The Knock (Destiel)

Chapter seven

7. We're all just a little bit cursed

       Gabriel walked in the hospital room with a determined look on his face. Both the Winchester brothers looked up from their current positions. Sam had taken a chair and was leaning on the small table in the room with his elbow. Dean leaned against the same table, his arms crossed. Castiel soon followed, grabbing his brother's arm and shooting him a warning look.

       "Are you trying to hurt my brother?" he said, ever so subtly. Castiel let go off his arm with a defeated look and walked back to the corner of the room. Dean and Sam frowned.

       "What do you mean? Of course not!" Sam said indignantly. "I'm his roommate. Why would I ever hurt him?"

       "Remember, what was it, ten years ago
Illinois?" Both men still looked confused, yet they seemed to realise where this was heading. Sam looked at Dean, who held his cold look now. He always did this while hunting. Now, Sam saw his brother's eyes flash with guilt and fear, wondering what had happened.

       "Doesn't ring a bell? How about the names Wendell and James Novak? Do they seem familiar?" Dean didn't move, his hands clenching. Sam noticed this and stepped in front of him slowly. He knew now why Dean acted so strange.

       "Gabriel, what happened to your grandfather wasn't our fault. You don't know the story, nor will you probably ever understand it. Please, don't make us get you involved in this."

       This is what Dean always admired about his little brother: his patience. Every time something like this happened, or when they had to explain what they did for a living, Sam knew exactly how to handle things. While Dean had a bit of a temper on the subject, Sam didn't show it. Now too, he knew that he needed to keep quiet. That was until Gabriel made the next comment.

       "My fucking grandparents died that day! How could you not share how they died, knowing that you were there? I want to know what happened, god damn it!" He had raised his voice slightly, knowing that they were still in the hospital.

       "You will never understand a single fucking bit how that moment still haunts me," Dean spat out.

       "Dea-"

       "No, Sam. He wants to know? Then he will fucking know. Your grandmother had been attacked and couldn't be saved. As a result, we got distracted and our enemies surrounded us. They held both James and Sam under shot. I had told James not to come because he was getting too old, yet the son of a bitch insisted. Wendell would always follow him, of course, cause hey, that's the vow you make when getting married, right? I was tied up, as they made me choose which one of them could live, and who would die. I worked on cutting the ropes, buying them some time but they insisted.

       "They shot Sammy in his leg first, who screamed in pain. These screams still haunt me. At that point, I increased the speed of getting those damn ropes off. That was until they shot Wendell in his knee and untied me themselves. They - they gave me a gun and said I had to choose. I-I couldn't let Sam die again. He was the only one in my life still alive."

       Dean clenched his eyes shut, as tears fell freely. He could feel his brother's stare on his back. After all, he had never explained or even talked about what happened that day. Opening his eyes again, he was met with two glossy blue ones. Castiel had been standing in the corner, listening to Dean's story silently. He felt a pang in his chest when the man started to stumble over his words. All he wanted to do was hug him and - for once in his life - whisper comforting things in his ear.

       "They stomped on Sam's leg, and screamed at me to choose once again. I just - I pointed the gun at your grandfather and I pulled the trigger. His lifeless body fell on the ground, as others knocked Sam out. I managed to break free and shoot one of them. It turned out to be the - eh - leader. After that they just bailed. Fuck, if I had just done that earlier-"

       "Dean, hey," Sam rushed to stand in front of the older man, holding his shoulders. "God I never knew you blamed yourself for this. Don't. You wanted to save us both, that's what really matters."

       Dean didn't look his brother in the eye. It didn't happen often that his walls crashed like that. Actually, it happened quite rarely. He shook his brother's hands off and shoved passed a speechless Gabriel, before running out of the door. Both Sam and Gabriel didn't notice Castiel following him quietly. Castiel wasn't surprised. He had been in the shadows for years.

       Much to his surprise, Dean hadn't run off far, only a dozen feet. Castiel could see the hands clutching his hair and the shaking posture. Slowly, he walked over to the man, swallowing soundlessly. He could see the outline of the gun, hidden in his pants. He figured that his grandfather hadn't been his first kill, what made him come to the conclusion that Dean wasn't exactly innocent.

       Scarred, was what Castiel decided to call it. They both were, in other ways. They both witnessed things they never wanted see and wished to forget as the memories haunted them at night. They both held more guilt than a human body could handle. In that perspective, Castiel noted, they had more in common than anyone could realise.

       He touched the shaken up man's shoulder gently, trying to turn him around. When the 25-years old wouldn't budge, he stepped to his front, meeting the fiery yet amazingly sad green eyes, surrounded by tear stains and irritated skin. Castiel wiped away some falling tears. As they were almost the same height, he didn't need to lift his arms too high.

       Arms wrapped around his shoulders, leaving a weight on them for a second, before he was pulled closer. He tensed up, not moving at first, but when Dean laid his head on Castiel's shoulder, he snaked his arms under the older man's arms and hugged back. He hadn't hugged anyone in years, holding on tight as never wanted to let go. He opened his mouth a few times, sighing after. Damn it, Castiel. You can do this, He thought.

       "It's OK to cry, Dean," he mumbled, closing his eyes after the shaky words had left his mouth. At first, Dean tensed up, which made him feel even more insecure. Then he felt something wet on his shoulder. He sighed in relief, as the man fisted his sweater and buried his head even more in it.

       He didn't know how long they stood there, in the middle of the hallway. Castiel held the strong body close, closing his eyes in appreciation. Dean had stopped crying what seemed like hours ago, yet they enjoyed the closeness while it lasted.

       "You should seriously talk more," Dean mumbled against his shoulder. His voice was rough, even more than usual. "I like your voice. It's soothing and low."

       Castiel looked up at the hallway as he spoke, burying his head in the leather jacket soon after to hide his blush. Dean's body vibrated, chuckling slightly. The hunter pulled away, not moving his arms from the man's neck.

       "Hi," Castiel spoke, after a short silence. His voice cracked, it skipping an octave by the one simple word. The green eyes in front of him widened slightly, as they shone happily now. A smile made it's way up Dean's face.

       "Hi," he replied, the broad smile not leaving his face. "I don't know what I did to make you talk, but please tell me what it is because I command you to read me a story every day now. Please, keep talking forever."

       Castiel watched the Winchester's lips as he was talking, zoning out the sound completely. They were still standing really close to each other. It confused him. He had never felt this urge before, just to kiss someone randomly, worrying about the consequences later. He never even dated somebody, like, ever. He slipped his hand away from Dean's back, up to the man's freckled cheeks. It seemed to stop his ramble, as a somewhat uncomfortable yet calm silence fell over them.

       Dean was the one to break it, by pushing his lips on Castiel's gently.