The Hand He Had Been Dealt | Destiel

Early Morning Talks

Dean had to admit; for all the issues his jobs had been causing lately, his bosses sure were forgiving for missing two work days in a row. His boss, Barbara, even offered to let him have the day off from the gas station as well, which he declined. It felt good to work again, even if he was falling back into the feverish state of moving between work and sleep with little time for anything else in between.

That was probably the reason he hadn't noticed anything off about Castiel at first. By the time Dean stumbled into Castiel's house to pick up Sam for the night, he didn't even realize in the haze of his exhaustion that Castiel was careful around him, moving as if he was treading on eggshells, going as far as to stand several feet away, like Dean had some disease that caused him to smelled bad.

Well, Dean had noticed things were off, but his need for sleep overtook any thoughts of staying up later, though he did take to smelling his clothes every morning just to subconsciously make sure that wasn't the problem.

Even when he did eventually notice, he didn't mention it. He figured that it was just Castiel being awkward ever since Dean happened to publicly assault him with an impromptu makeout session, but the final straw was when he was putting Sam to bed, who stared at him with wide eyes.

"Daddy's upset," Sam murmured, his voice a tiny whisper as if it were something he wasn't supposed to say out loud. Dean paused from tucking him in, tipping his head and looking down at his little brother.

"Why is Cas upset?" Dean asked with a frown lining his features. Sam fiddled with his fingers before stuffing them under the covers and shrugging.

"I dunno," Sam replied, rolling into a small ball and pulling the freshly tucked blanket closer, ruining what Dean had done like he did every night.

Dean watched his brother for a minute, but he finally gave up when he heard soft snores coming from Sam. With a hand running through his hair, he headed into the kitchen, pulling out a beer and taking a sip of it. Suddenly, he didn't feel so tired anymore.

Still, despite his mind racing, he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

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"Are you okay?" Dean blurted out as Castiel took the drowsy Sam from his arms, his face heating up a little after the words left his mouth. He hadn't meant to say it out loud.

Castiel looked at him in surprise, the first real emotion Dean had seen on his face in a week, "I'm fine, Dean," Castiel responded, turning away with Sam in his arms to take him towards the guest bedroom.

"You don't seem fine," Dean uttered, following after him and focusing on Castiel's tensing shoulders, "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing happened," Castiel replied, though his voice grew a little tighter as he laid Sam in the bed and turned, his eyes icy and nearly freezing Dean on the spot. That stare made him want to drop the subject, though he held resolute as he gazed back.

"Obviously something did," Dean huffed, barely able to blink before Castiel was leaving the room, skirting around Dean without so much as a brush of their arms.