How (thanks to Gabriel) Dean and Castiel raised each other (and Sam)

Chapter 19- Keep Calm and Carry On

When Dean and Sam were still young enough to solve their issues with wrestling matches and liberal use of the phrases ‘you suck’, ‘drop dead’ and ‘I’m going to tell Dad’, Castiel had developed a certain philosophy regarding their arguments. Mainly that philosophy consisted of staying out of it until someone drew blood. It continued to work as their fights grew more complicated, burdened with hormones, history and the wholesale consumption of several dictionaries.

Some people might call his wary separation cowardly, but Castiel liked to think of it as prudent. If he stepped in, inevitably his objectivity was called into question and someone wound up sulking. It should be much worse when Dean decided to sulk as it effected Castiel in a much clearer way. A sulking Dean was uninterested in affection of any sort and likely to hold the grudge for several days. The fact was though that Sam’s sulking took on epic proportions that shattered any attempts at peaceful contemplation for days. Sam in full on pouting mode tended to sigh loudly at odd intervals, stare morosely into space and generally manage to take up too much space with his long legs until Castiel wanted to kick him outside to walk it off.

The unfortunate side effect of Castiel’s insistence on quiet neutrality was that it inevitably dawned on one of them that winning him to their side would have a much greater impact.

“Look, just tell him I’m entitled to have my own life.” Sam wheedled. “I mean, it’s not up to him who I want to have relationships with.”

“Tell him yourself.” Castiel turned the page of the romance novel he’d found under the counter. The Wanton Cowgirl Meets her Match had been the first thing on hand when Sam approached with a determined wrinkle in his brow. The shop was devoid of customer’s on a rainy Monday morning, which took away that outlet.

“I did! He says I don’t know what’s best for me.”

“Mmm.” Castiel turned the page, then frowned. “Wouldn’t the straw be uncomfortable?”

“What? Cas? Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes.” There was something unappealing about the word ‘turgid’, he decided.

“Just look, you know I was in your corner when you guys hooked up. Can’t you talk some sense into him?”

“What makes you think he’d be any more receptive to me than you?”

“He always listens to you!” Sam whined. “Come on, man, I finally have someone in my life that I really care about and he’s freaking out, making ultimatums.”

“He came back from Hell a week ago.” He shut the book with a quiet ‘thunk’. “You’ve only just begun with Gabriel. There will be plenty of time to coax Dean into accepting it.”

“Well. Yeah.” Sam slumped over the counter, looking terribly dejected. “Guess that’s true. I...how’s he doing? I ask him, but he won’t say anything.”

“Sleeping is difficult.” Dean tended to wake up several times a night, searching the darkness for invisible enemies. “He remembers it all.”

“He’s quieter. Sometimes I catch him staring at nothing.”

“It will take a long time to heal.” That Dean would always be fundamentally different hung unspoken between them. No one could go through what he had and return unchanged. “But he has always been strong.”

“Yeah.” Sam pushed his hair back with one hand. “Um. So there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“If you wanted the last Oreo, don’t leave them on the table.”

“That was you?” Sam sputtered. “You know I- wait. No, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to ask you about Heaven.”

“What about it?”