The Hand He Had Been Dealt | Destiel

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The alarm blaring in his ears didn't feel near as bad as it had in the past, his body feeling more rested than it had been in a long time as he yawned, stretching and feeling his back crack pleasantly. With a slight sigh of contentment, he rolled out of bed, finally feeling as if he was actually going to make through this mess.

He didn't even bother adjusting his clothes as he padded into the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed to Sam's room to get him ready before work. A shifting form in the guest bedroom caught his attention and Dean tipped his head in confusion until he remembered that Castiel was sleeping over. He smiled, shaking his head and turning the doorknob to Sam's room. He wouldn't wake Sam up, not if Castiel was over already.

He couldn't help but wonder if it would be like this all the time if he ever tried to be with Castiel.

Dean pushed the thoughts from his head, rolling his eyes when he saw that Sam had gotten out of bed, his covers thrown back towards the bottom of the mattress. He had taken to getting up thirty minutes before Dean, trying to get dressed himself and get his own breakfast. While he never managed to do it, Dean appreciated Sam trying to make his life easier.

Still, Sam usually made a mess, so Dean was shocked when he found no milk spilled on the floor, the kitchen untouched from Castiel's cleaning yesterday. He frowned, looking around the room before turning to the living room, the TV off and only sound of the fan rotating above his head.

A low roll of panic settled low in Dean's chest, pain erupting along his rib cage as his heart thudded. He moved quickly through the house, calling Sam's name, his eyes widening every time Sam didn't reply. He nearly tripped as he busted into the guest room, the clatter of catching himself on the dresser jolting Castiel awake.

"Dean?"

"Please tell me Sam is in here," Dean asked, his breaths coming in slight heaves as he began to truly panic. Castiel was scrambling to his feet in an instant, his eyes alight with worry as he looked around before shaking his head.

"Oh God, he's disappeared," Dean stated, his hands finding his hair and tugging at the small strands as he struggled to keep his nerves under control. He was no use to Sam being in a panic attack, but he still couldn't control the shuddering of his breath as he ran out of the house and into the dawn around him.

Castiel was behind him, talking into the phone of what Dean could only hope was the police. He didn't wait for them though, looking both ways before hurrying over to Castiel's house and testing all the doors and windows. Finding all of them locked, he continued further down the road, shouting Sam's name and vaguely noting that Castiel was doing the same as he hurried down the opposite side of the street.

When it turned eight, three hours after Dean had gotten up to find Sam missing, and the toddler was still not found, Dean was in a borderline mental breakdown. People leaving their house for work that morning gave him strange looks, but he could only shudder as he begged if they had seen Sam, his hope sinking every time someone replied with a no. He was in the middle of interrogating a seemingly harmless teenage worker in a fast food uniform when his phone's ringtone went off.

Dean's hands shook harshly as he pulled out his phone and saw it was Castiel. He pressed the answer button, not daring to have his hopes raised as he held it up to his ear.

"Dean, the police found him. He's at the station now," Castiel's voice said over the line, nearly sending Dean into a collapse on this stranger's yard when he realized that meant that Sam was okay. He barely managed to make a noise of confirmation before he was hanging up, running back towards his house. He was going to get to that station, hug Sam to death, then kill him for making Dean worry so much.

Castiel was already waiting by Dean's car when he skidded to a halt in front of him, attempting to catch his breath for just a minute. Castiel tipped his head, studying him before he threw the keys onto the car's seat through the open door and turning back to Dean.

"Calm down, Dean. He's okay," Castiel assured softly, stepping into Dean's personal space and raising his hands, his thumbs spreading across his cheekbones gently and wiping away the trail of tears that Dean didn't even know was there.

"I could have lost him," Dean said with a shaky voice, his entire body feeling as if he were going to collapse in an instant. Castiel's hands kept him up though, gentle caresses slowing the shudders that wracked through his body.

"You didn't, Dean. Sam is fine," Castiel replied, his red eyes catching Dean's eyes when he finally managed to see passed the blurriness of the vision. Dean took in a deep breath, finally giving a shaky nod before stepping back from Castiel's touch.

"I'm...I'm going to go get him," Dean stated in a distracted tone, stepping around Castiel to get to his car.

"I'll drive this time," Castiel replied grabbing Dean's elbow gently and pulling him back, meeting Dean's gaze gently.

"Cas, you don't hav-"

"Just get in the car, Dean. I want to be there too," Castiel interrupted, his tone making it clear that Dean wasn't to argue with him. Dean stared at him for a moment before he cleared his throat, looking down at his feet and nodding.

"Okay, just don't scratch Baby or I'll kill you," Dean grunted, moving to the passenger side of the Impala and climbing in.