after a storm (destiel)

Part Four

When Sam comes home with a sad potted plant he got for a dollar because it's sporting a look Dean terms "Purgatory chic," Cas becomes a gardener.

Dean's nervous to let Cas go outside, so he follows him up with a small arsenal. Cas clears a two-foot plot out of sight from the road while Dean keeps watch. He scoops soil away with his hands and gingerly removes the plant from its pot, then places it in the hole. He tumbles soil in around it and pats it into place with a look of satisfaction.

He pulls weeds while Dean watches, consulting a guidebook Sam found for him. After an hour, there's dirt beneath his fingernails and smudged on his cheek. The only interruption is Sam popping up to ask what they want for lunch. Cas asks for a sandwich and a container of water for the plant.

Sam brings it, and he stands sentry while Cas waters the thing—it's a Gerber daisy, according to the tag. Cas visits it every morning after that and waters it with his mug once he's finished his coffee.

Dean feels strange following him outside every time, but it's necessary. Zeke might not be willing to bring him back again if something happens. This is the Winchester family. Something always happens. And Cas is...well, he's as good as a Winchester now.

Castiel Winchester. Dean ought to get him an ID with that name for the hell of it.

As it turns out, Dean's concern and mother henning aren't necessary this week. The worst injury Cas sustains is another nick while he's shaving, just at his jaw line. Dean soothes the cut with his thumb, easing it along the remaining stubble on Cas's chin to brush the corner of his mouth. Cas gasps. Dean wants so badly to kiss him, to fit their mouths together and feel connected for a while. Nothing heavy, no tongue, just the soft pressure of Cas's mouth. He wants to bear Cas onto the bed and map every inch of him with his lips and teeth, but he restricts himself to the barest motion of his thumb dragging across Cas's lip.

Cas shudders and shuts his eyes, angling his face away. Dean, panicked, leaves the bathroom in a fog and finds Sam bent over a book. Cas goes outside to water the plant by himself. Dean watches him ascend the stairs and jumps when the door thuds closed.

With Dean and Sam left alone with only ghost stories between them, Zeke flickers into being across the table.

"I grow tired of waiting."

"If having Cas here was gonna be such a problem for you, how come you didn't say anything while we were on the road?"

"You test my patience."

"I want you to be straight with me, cause he told me you're an upstanding guy. Angel." Dean shakes off a frown. "You got a beef with Cas? What's the deal?"

"The deal is that he leaves, or I do."

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Dean quips, calling his bluff. "Funny how you're both still here."

"Excuse me?"

"Look. If you really felt threatened by Cas, you would've left already. You want to tell me the real reason you don't want him around?"

Zeke places both palms on the table and pushes to his feet. Dean lifts his chin in challenge.

"I will let Sam die."

"See, that's the funny thing," Dean says, tilting his head toward his shoulder. "I don't think you will."

Zeke, with Sam's face cranked up to homicide-level red, circles to Dean's side of the table. Dean's heart beats erratically as he decides on the best weapon to take down an angel without harming his brother. It arrives in the sound of the outside door reopening. Cas tromps downstairs. Zeke fucks off. Sam blinks, stumbling forward two steps, and stops.