Rewritten

Chapter 5

Going through Bobby’s files and books proves a little bizarre, because some of the information is kicking of waves of nostalgia in Dean, but they’re for things that this Cas and Bobby have no memory of yet. So they’re constantly confused when lines keep crinkling at the edges of Dean’s eyes and his lips turn up. Bobby asks once or twice what the hell is wrong with him that he smiles at the information on wraiths and golems, but gives up eventually when Dean keeps his mouth shut.

At one point, Bobby asks Cas to go check in the panic room for a particular stack of books he wants to go through. The second Cas flutters out of the library, Bobby spins his chair to face Dean. “Please. Tell me you didn’t spend the last five years mooning over that angel,” he begs.

Dean drops the file folder on kitsunes. “What are you t—”

 “I’m not stupid, boy,” Bobby drawls. “You’re different around him. Different than your past self.” He frowns, and amends this. “Well, your past self is pretty far gone too, but you’re so gone you might as well have hearts in your eyes or something.”

 “It’s not like that, Bobby,” Dean protests as he gathers the last of the papers into the folder. “I—”

 Bobby glares. “I ain’t no idjit, Dean. Don’t even try with me.”

 Dean opens the folder on top of the coffee table, stacking the pages against the folder to straighten them all together. “Yes. Okay? Yes. It is that way. I won’t lie to you. But I can’t do anything about it in my time. Things… It’s terrible fucking timing, is all I’m gonna say.”

 “At least you finally admit it,” Bobby says, snatching up his bottle of beer. He takes a long drink. “Progress. I was beginning to think you never would.”

 “How long have you kn—” And then Dean swallows the rest of his sentence when Cas suddenly appears with a tottering stack of books in his hands reaching up to his shoulders. “Uh, hey, Cas.” A few of the books at the top start sliding forward, and Dean quickly makes a grab for them. “Here, I got those…” His hands brush against Cas’s shoulder as he moves, and he is absolutely not going to look at Bobby right now because his face is probably a little red at the contact.

 Luckily, just then the phone rings. Bobby backs away to get it as Dean sets the books down on the coffee table and starts sorting them. Cas steps away. “There are a few more downstairs,” he says. “I wasn’t sure which others to bring.”

 “I’ll go with you in a bit here,” Dean tells him, leafing through another book and setting it aside. He can’t stop going back and forth in his mind. Honestly, his and Cas’s lives are so entwined at this point, what would it really change? Cas is so stubborn, there’s a good chance he would have gone ahead with the Purgatory/Crowley plan anyway.

 Dean can’t see a way where his current endpoint wouldn’t be the same, or similar. But if somehow, he could find a little bit of happiness, he and Cas both… It might make things a little easier in the meantime.

 Cas takes a seat on the couch next to him, watching him organize but evidently not wanting to mess anything up by helping out and sorting things wrong. Dean tries to ignore the fizziness in his stomach at how close Cas is right now.

 Subtle. He has to be subtle. He can’t leave tell himself things like when you meet Metatron take him out immediately or don’t let Sam do the trials, they nearly kill him or for fuck’s sake don’t let Cas make the deal with Crowley. For one, who the hell knows how much the bigger changes would ripple out through the rest of the timeline? For another, Dean knows damn well he’s stuborn and suspicious and might not listen anyway.