Some Kind of Beautiful Smile (Destiel)

PART FIVE: Sobering Morning

Last part was long right? I know! I wanted it to be longer, but got cut off...Anywho, this is really PART FOUR: Part 2.
Enjoy!

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He kissed me.
He kissed me?
Castiel, kissed me.
He ran away, but he kissed me?

No matter how many times Dean repeated what had happened an hour ago it still seemed impossible. He thought to himself that it must have been some weird trick or an extremely vivid dream. It had to have been, yet he pinched himself over twenty times to no avail and still he was wide awake. He relived it over and over in his head.

After Castiel kissed him... and then ran away, Dean wanted to go after him, but his legs wouldn't move. He wanted to say his name, but his lips wouldn't obey. He was locked in place, unable to do anything. He stayed frozen for what seemed like hours until he finally pulled himself from the coma-like trance and walked out his door. He walked down to Castiel's room and paused. His mind drawing blanks. He hadn't even begun to process what really happened. He wanted to ask Castiel why. He wanted to scream at him for running from him after landing the most wondrous kiss on his lips. He wanted to tell him how much it meant to him, that his lips were the softest lips to ever touch his. Most of all, he wanted the chance to return the spontaneity of that kiss back to Cass. He yearned to see his big blue eyes bat at him with confusion and surprise.

Dean smiled at the thought of Castiel's face going wide as Dean leaned in without permission and invaded his personal space for once. He chuckled at that, it have him confidence. He raised his handed fist to the door, and dropped it. He couldn't do it, he wasn't brave enough, sure throw a vampire in there and he'd bust the door down to save his fragile former angel, but a simple knock at the door to express his feelings? Hmph, fat chance. Conflicted, and pissed at his cowardice Dean stomped back to his room and slammed the door. He paced. He didn't know what else to do so he grabbed the vodka on his bedside table from earlier and took a full gulp. Then he paced. He drank, and then he paced. Back and forth and over again. Drinking and pacing until he got dizzy. He felt the first wave on intoxication and crashed on the bed. He could do nothing but sit there.

Bringing himself to now. An hour later, still crashed on his bed going over it again and again. He listened to the utter silence until he couldn't stand the cold lonely feeling in the pit of his stomach, he fell asleep some time later, with eyes full and wet.

***

Dean, had no dream, just sleep. He groaned, all the same when his alarm blasted into his head. He knew the song instantly, humming along to AC/DC before he rolled over to hit snooze.

Ridin' down the highway
Goin' to a show
Stop in all the by-ways
Playin' rock 'n' roll

Gettin' robbed
Gettin' stoned
Gettin' beat up
Broken boned

Gettin' had
Gettin' took
I tell you folks
It's harder than it looks

It's a long way to the top
If you wanna rock 'n' roll
It's a long way to the top
If you wanna rock 'n' roll ...

He turned over hitting snooze, reading the time, 7:15. He groaned grumpily, not only because he only slept three hours, but because his head reminding him he drank a half bottle of vodka last night. He griped when he remembered exactly why he drank so much. Waking up is always an unpleasant affair to Dean, but waking up grumpy and pissed from the night before, he pitied the fool who looked at him sideways.

He rolled off his bed grabbing clothes and his tooth brush to head to the bathroom to unfortunately start his day, praying he didn't run into Cass.

Dressed and fresh, Dean walks in the kitchen to put on pot of coffee on. He mentally blessed Sam for having done it already for him. Grabbing the closest mug, he poured himself a delicious amount of coffee, taking in his favorite smell to start the day. He jumped when he heard someone clear their throat, whilst he and his coffee shared a moment.

"Morning, grumpy." Sam chuckled. "What, I don't get a 'Thank you Sam for the coffee, good morning, how'd you sleep?' The rudeness in some people." Sam scoffed.

Dean snorted, but plastered the most artificial smile he could muster on his face and sat down across from Sam, all to say (in his most condescending voice);

"Thank you Sam for the coffee. Good morning, how'd you sleep?"

He rolled his eyes and continued to drink his coffee, ignoring the scowl coming his way.

"Mmffggn, jerk!"

"Bitch."

At that he smiled. He couldn't help it, even in his worst mood Sammy could always get him to smile. However, it was short lived when he remembered they weren't alone in the bunker. With a lump forming the size of a boiled egg in his throat he looked at Sam.

"So, wh-where's Cass?" Dreading the answer, the lump becoming hard to swallow.

"I don't know, I got up this morning to take a quick jog and he was leaving the bunker. I asked, but he just got all awkward and Cass-like and left anyway. Been gone an hour or two." Sam said nonchalantly.

So it wasn't a dream. He thought to himself, forcing the lump to dissipate. He wanted to see Cass so bad it made him antsy in his seat.

Breakfast came and went, while Dean waited impatiently for Castiel to return. Leaving at the crack of dawn was not a smart move, because on top of last night Dean still had to worry about him being out there alone. Which, in turn made him furious. By noon he was fuming with anger. Whenever, Castiel decided to walk through that door he'd give him a piece of his mind. He stated the door down as if it would give him the answer to Cass' whereabouts. Sam tried talking him down, telling him not to worry, but Sam didn't have all the details. He didn't know what happened last night, so he chose to ignore him.

Thirty minutes later they heard the door unlock and Castiel stepped in (more so, he trembled in) he was covered in blood and he had scratches all over his face. New bruises overlapping his old ones. If Dean hadn't known better he'd say he got hit by another car, but he did know better. He looked terrible.