Family Don't End With Blood /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

Headlights

Cas had had enough. His thoughts and emotions were running wild and the longer he started into the flames, the more effort it took to maintain a cool and collective pretence.

To start with, he was hurt that Dean had lied to him.

All those times he'd asked about Bobby, or anything to do with the Winchester family history, the questions had been brushed aside or given a vague response; there had been endless defences and deflections to even the simplest of queries. But the second Gabriel asks, Dean miraculously decides to talk. Sure, he was a little drunk, but that was hardly and excuse.

Then, there was the fact that Dean clearly didn't trust him.

That, or he wasn't serious enough about the relationship to bother opening up. How the hell was that fair? Cas had shared so much with Dean, so damn much, none of which had been easy, and was only now realising how one-sided this 'trust' seemed to be.

Worse still, Cas couldn't help but dwell on the fact that Dean's biological father was in prison. That was ominous in itself, but the way Dean had laughed about it, the hidden bitterness that seemed to surge forward, and then the casualness with which their dead mother had been mentioned — alarm bells were not just sounding, but screaming.

Cas had barely spared a thought for the other two Winchesters.

Still, he remembered how drawn Sam had looked, with his eyebrows tugged together and the line of his lips tightening, and how his sister had seemed the opposite: her features almost softening as the expression faded from her face but left her eyes alight.

But they'd lied too.

It wasn't all on Dean.

Glancing across at Gabriel, Cas could see his brother on a similar train of thought. In fact, the whole group probably was: everyone having sunk into silent contemplation.

Cas stood up, several faces turning to look as he dusted himself down and strode away up the bank.

Gabriel watched him go.

~~

Sam leant on the side of the Impala with his head in his hands.

He had absolutely no idea what to do.

Both his siblings were still sat inside the car; Dean, now getting on his nerves, was mumbling along to AC/DC, pausing at intervals as his liquor-induced brain struggled with the lyrics. In the back, Elsa was still curled up on the seat and had taken to staring blankly through the front windscreen.

Sam sighed aloud, and raised his head.

The campfire still flickered on the grass near the lake, occasional sparks escaping from the main body of flame and extinguishing themselves in the damp grass.  Everything else had fallen to darkness, with the pale orb of the moon casting only a ghostly essence over the veil of the lake.

Movement caught Sam's attention.

Peering through the backness, he found a figure approaching the car and, guilty, half-hoped it wasn't Gabriel; he had no idea what he'd say to him.

"Sam?"

The deep voice was unmistakably Cas'.

"Here."

The Novak stalked into view.  "Can I talk to Dean?"  It sounded more like an order than a question.

"You can," Sam ran a hand through his hair, "But he's drunk, I doubt you'll get anything out of him."

Cas shrugged.

The Winchester stepped aside.

Two car doors opened simultaneously, as Cas slid into the driver's seat and Elsa climbed out of the back, joining Sam on the summit of the bank who, taking her arm, began walking steadily back in the direction of the campfire.