His Fallen Grace

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dean was quiet on the drive there. Sam on occasion broke the silence with a light cough or the small clearing of his throat, but neither helped. Earlier on, he'd turned on the radio, but Dean'd shut it off. He hadn't said a word since leaving Esbon.

Sam eyed his brother, his face impassive and eyes fixed on the road.

"Hey uh, Dean... How're you feeling man?"

Dean was silent for a moment before replying.

"I'm fine, Sam. Good, actually."

There was another long, stifling silence between the two. Sam spoke again. He couldn't take it any longer.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"I mean... You don't even seem relieved or anything."

Sam watched Dean's hand tense around the leather of the steering wheel, his grip on it tightening.

"I don't know how to feel, Sam. Honestly, I don't."

But Sam knew better. Dean might've been putting on that I-Don't-Give-A-Crap show, but beneath the mask, there was something more going on. That was just Dean, though. Dean, no matter what it was, shoved whatever deep within himself and piled it along with all the other crap prodding at him, then dealt when he finally burst.

Sam just had to wait for the dam to break.

***

They booked a room in the first motel they came across. They lugged their bags in and tossed them carelessly upon the floor. Sam looked up at Dean as he heard the keys jangle.

"Hey, where you going?"

"Out for a drink."

He was out the door before Sam could protest.

***

What Dean told Sam was true. He didn't know how to feel. He knew he should be relieved, glad even, and he was--but he was also mad. He was pissed. He was beyond upset. When they found Cas, he didn't know what he was going to do, how he was going to feel. There was a lot of things Dean didn't know. He just couldn't be sure anymore.

He parked the Impala, pulled the keys from her ignition before pushing open the door and stepping out. His breath fogged the air, his eyes glancing around. Besides himself, the street was mostly empty. For a reason he couldn't quite name, his eyes locked on a man up the road.

He couldn't see any features, just an outline. Messy hair was clearly visible, and he could make out a long coat, and suddenly he couldn't believe his eyes. He couldn't believe his head, or his heart. It started as a walk which turned brisk, but broke into a run.

He seized the man's shoulder and turned him round, the man looking startled before realizing. Before both realizing. They both froze. They stood positively still, eyes locked and breath held.

He never thought he'd see those blue eyes again. That messy bed hair he never bothered to fix. That filthy trench coat and backwards tie.

Dean moved, but not to bring him into and hug, or pull him into a kiss. He hadn't even thought to move, but it happened, and before he could stop himself, his tightly clenched fist collided with Cas's face.

***I know I said I'd update yesterday, but I went to a friend's house as well as watched the Doctor Who Season 8 premier in theater and was really tired afterwards. Capadli, btw, is just aweSOME. But I promise you'll get two updates today. :]***