Take Care of My Baby

It's Monday morning and Dean is dropping Castiel off at his house when Cas peeks his head into the door and says, "Be here tomorrow at nine. Feel free to park in front of the house. I'm moving out," in that grave tone of his before he closes the door and walks up to his front door.

And so Dean is there at nine o'clock the next morning, right on the dot. Instead of his baby, he's driving one of Bobby's pickup trucks, since he figures that's better for hauling things around. He doesn't stop to ponder what it means that he's even on time and that he's up this early and not working. He might have one of those emotional revelations, and he's too sober for that shit.

Dean isn't exactly sure what he's supposed to do when he gets out of the truck. He takes a moment to smooth his hands down on his jeans, to curse the spot of grease that he hadn't noticed when he put them on, and to stare at the front door with intensity. Dean Winchester has had his way with more women than he can count, but not once has he properly courted anyone. He has never come knocking on the door with a bouquet of flowers or whatever the hell people brought on dates, and he's sure as hell never helped a secret male lover move into his home before.

"Don't be a pansy, Winchester," he mutters to himself as he finally musters up the courage to start moving toward the house. "All you gotta do is knock."

And so he does. Three quick raps, just like he does when he bothers Bobby in his office at the garage, and then Cas is there, looking a little bit wild-eyed and frantic. His expression, however, softens as soon as he sees that it's Dean.

"Uh, hey, Cas," he says with a quick wave. Castiel grins and drags Dean into the house with no warning, and once the door is closed, their left in a warm embrace.

"My family has left for their respective jobs, but Gabriel is supposed to be returning home at noon," Cas says, sounding tense and worried. He's looking all around the house as if he's trying to take stock of everything in it. Dean grabs the man's shoulders and coaxes Cas to look at him.

"Calm down, Cas. This is all gonna be okay." He hopes that he's being a grounding presence. Castiel is nodding at him, and some of the stiffness of his shoulders is easing. "We'll be outta here real soon. If you still want to."

"Of course I want to, Dean," he sighs. Dean can't resist pulling him to his chest.

"Gonna make everything okay for you, Cas. Promise," he murmurs into the man's hair.

When they finally pull apart, Castiel's demeanor has brightened considerably. He's even wearing a smile.

"I packed everything last night. We only have to pack it into the car," he tells Dean.

"Truck."

"What?"

"I... don't have my car. I brought Bobby's truck," Dean elaborates.

Cas tilts his head slightly. "Bobby?"

"My boss. Basically my dad," he shrugs. "He let me borrow it today."

"Oh. Oh, good. That'll do nicely," Castiel says with a smile. He still looks a little out of it, but Dean doesn't blame him.

Without saying another word, Cas takes Dean's hand and leads him into his bedroom. Everything inside of it is packed up, though there really wasn't much to pack anyway. The fact that everything is done already really speeds up the process of leaving. Dean hauls the heavy boxes out the door and insists that Cas take all of the lighter ones.

Castiel seems to return to himself the more they pack. Dean had worried the previous night that perhaps Cas would be upset while they packed, as this was the first time in all of his nineteen years that he'd be leaving his family behind. But as they carry box after box out to the truck with the early morning sunlight shining on Cas and through the wide-open windows. Dean captures some of the moments in his mind. Cas sitting on the edge of a bare bed, glancing through the copy of a book he hadn't found until the previous night with a look of intense concentration in his eye. Cas with the sunlight shining down around him like he's an angel descended from heaven with holy purpose. Cas sneaking little touches as they choose which box is heaviest. Cas surprising Dean by taking pictures, and Dean wrestling the camera back to take some of Cas.

Dean doesn't realize he's doing it, saving these memories. He doesn't think about how he's never bothered to savor those little quirks about anyone else before. It just seems to come naturally. And it's nice.

The packing doesn't take very long at all, possibly because it's not technically packing; it's just loading things in the back of Bobby's truck and fooling around. Only an hour has passed when Cas checks the clock.

"Wow. I was under the impression that I had a lot more possessions than that," Castiel laughs as they inspect the back of the truck. Everything fits in the back with not even the slightest bit of overflow into the cab of the pickup. "I thought it would take much longer."

"That's just 'cause you got a strong guy like me to help you out," Dean teases. The other man leans into him, and it's nice, to show that affection out in public even if no one is around to see them.

"I should write a note for everyone," Cas states quietly. "Would you like to come in and have something to eat while I do?"'

"Sure."

Dean just winds up silently sipping a Coke while Cas sits across from him, scrawling some words in a notebook. He fills a few pages before Dean realizes that he's writing a different note for everyone.

Dean watches, not reading the words that Cas writes, but just the way he writes them. How Cas will pause for a moment and look up into space, as if the dust motes floating in the air hold the words that he wants to say. And then when he finds his inspiration, he returns to translate the thoughts onto the paper.

He wonders what it is about Cas that turns him into a fuckin' poet. Sam would never let him live it down if he finds out.

A few minutes later, Castiel puts the pen back into a mug on top of the refrigerator and says, "I'll be back in a moment," before disappearing into the depths of his soon-to-be former home. Dean can hear him entering and leaving several rooms, and then he's back in the kitchen, taping a note to the refrigerator. He turns around and leans against the counter.

"Ready?" Dean asks. All he gets is a nod in return. "You need a minute or anything?"

The other man pushes himself up. "No. I'm not particularly attached to this house."

"Guess that's true," Dean shrugs. He stands up and offers his arm to Cas. "Ready to go?"

Cas's lip quirks up at the corner, and he slides his hand into Dean's arm. "How charming."

"I do my best."

__________

When Dean pulls into his driveway and turns off the truck, both men stay in the cab for a few moments. The ride had been pleasant, and Cas doesn't appear to be upset, yet Dean can't help but wonder what's going on in his mind.

"So how about a grand tour?" he proposes.

"I would like that very much."

They keep a respectable distance between them on the way into the house. Dean lives in the view of far more people, and he knows that exhibiting any sort of physical contact can spell out danger for the both of them.

As soon as the door is shut, however, Dean places a hand on the small of Cas's back and keeps it there as he shows him from room to room, starting with the kitchen and ending with what is now Castiel's room.

"I said I wouldn't force you into anything, and I meant it," Dean tells him as Cas looks around. He leans against the doorway, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Used to be my old room."

"Where do you sleep now?" Cas asks him as he looks up from the windowsill that he had wandered to.

"Master bedroom. Took it over after my dad died." Dean looks down at where he's scuffing his boot into the floor. It's not a topic he likes to breach, no matter how many times Sam has tried to get him to talk about it

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Dean shrugs. "That's life. But, uh, you wanna start bringing in your stuff?"

"Sure."

The head back out to the truck to find Sam looking in the back of it with a confused look on his face.

"Hey, Sammy. What're you doin' home so early?" Dean asks.

"My teacher was sick," he replies, almost absently. "Dean, what's going on?"

"Oh, uh... guess I forgot to mention it, but Cas is gonna move in with us," he says sheepishly. He had been so wrapped up in his own worries about Cas that he hadn't taken a moment out of his day to mention it to his brother. A wave of guilt washes over him.

"It's cool. Nice to have you livin' with us, Cas." Sam pulls Castiel into one of his ridiculous hugs - ridiculous only because he's so tall and too compassionate for his body.

"It's nice to be here."

"Wanna give us a hand carryin' this stuff in?" Dean asks his brother.

With the three of them working together, moving all of the boxes into the house doesn't take long at all. It does, however, leave Cas's new room in quite a state of disarray.

Cas and Dean stand in the doorway, just looking at the stacks of boxes.

"Quite the mess," Dean nods, stating the blatantly obvious.

Cas nods as well. There's a look of trepidation on his face, almost like he doesn't want to even begin the process of unpacking so soon. They both continue to stand there. Both men are wondering at the possibility of unpacking the boxes using just the sheer willpower of their stares alone. Needless to say, they get no unpacking done until Sam wanders up and peeks in the room.

"Wow. Weird seeing that room with stuff in it again," he says with a laugh. "Hey, Dean. I gotta ask you somethin'. If you're not too busy."

"No, I'm not busy." Dean pushes himself off of the wall and glances at Cas. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

He gets a warm smile in return, one that seems to be filled with an adoration that Sam has seen in Jess's eyes. "Take all the time you need."

It's the smile Dean gives Cas that really comes as a surprise. In all of the years that Sam has known Dean, he has never seen his brother look that fondly at anyone, the only exception being the pictures of their mother before she passed away. And even then, there are so many different emotions now. There's no hurt in Dean's eyes, no longing for something that can never be. Because Cas is here, a tangible presence living under the same roof. Maybe that's why Sam can almost see the awe radiating from his older brother.

The moment ends when Dean breaks eye contact and follows Sam into the kitchen. They both lean against their respective counters.

"So, whattya need?" the older asks with his usual confidence.

"You're really serious about this," Sam says. It's not a question as much as it is a recognition, a confirmation between the both of them that is agreed upon in spoken word. "The Cas thing?"

Dean shuffles, sticking his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it's pretty serious. I mean, he still has his own bedroom. Just don't like him in that damn house."

"You realize that you... it's not gonna be easy, Dean. This can be real dangerous if people start to talk. And they're gonna talk."

"I know that, Sammy. God, I've thought about that a hell of a lot," he says with a humorless laugh. "Havin' him here will just be easier for us anyway."

"I don't wanna see you get hurt, Dean. Cas either."

The older Winchester scoffs. "Don't you worry yourself, Sammy. Worryin' is my job."

"I just wanna know you're gonna be okay," Sam persists. "You... you tell me not to worry, but I do. You never tell me what's on your mind. I just... want you to know that sometimes you don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I can handle some of the burden, too."

Dean's face softens. He's realizing more and more with each passing day that his little brother isn't so little anymore.

"I'll be fine, Sammy. I knew full well what I was gettin' into, and I decided to do it anyway. This one's on me, and I know I can handle it." He says it with his usual self-assurance, and he truly does feel that he can handle it. He's Dean Winchester, goddammit. He lived through the death of both of his parents, he's watched his little brother get stabbed, he's raced death more times than he can count, and he can damn well handle himself in a fight. There's nothing the world can throw at him that he can't take in stride.

Sam smirks in amusement at Dean's words.

"What?" Dean demands of him, pushing him slightly as he goes to grab a beer.

"Ah, nothin'. Just never thought I'd live to see the day that Dean Winchester talks about his feelings and admits to caring about someone in the span of five minutes."

The older Winchester rolls his eyes, shoving a bottle of Coke into his brother's hands. "Shut your cakehole," he gripes. He digs around in the refrigerator until he can wipe the smile off of his face. Only then does he resurface with a beer for himself and another Coke.

"Aw, is Dean embarrassed?" Sam teases as his brother heads to leave.

He pauses in the doorway to turn around and point a finger at Sam in warning, despite the fact that his thinly veiled happiness lends nothing in the way of menace. "I'm serious, Sammy. I know where you sleep."

"Oooh, I'm so scared!" he calls as Dean takes his leave.

"You will be when you wake up with a new haircut!" Dean yells back as he heads down the hall to Cas's new room.

Cas has his back turned for the moment, sorting through one of the many boxes. He lingers in the doorway for a moment, because he still can't get over the fact that Cas is actually here. Hell, the fact that Castiel even talks to him is a mystery, but Dean isn't about to go into particulars. His moments of doubt have long since passed. There was a time, years ago, when he hated himself for looking at men in the same way he looked at women, when he spent hours trying to figure out what was wrong with him, why he wasn't normal like everyone else, why he was something abhorred, why he would never be able to have what he wanted.

That was years ago. Now, despite the voice of society that still shouts from the depths of his mind that he's unnatural, he has come to accept it. And now he's got a goddamn angel living with him. He felt his heart leap the first time he saw Cas, and he didn't think to pursue anything until he couldn't get the damn kid off his mind. He doesn't know why Cas picked Dean, out of all people. Things like this, he thinks, just don't happen outside of fantasies, and yet it's happened.

He knocks on the door. Castiel abandons the box for a moment and turns around.

"Brought you a drink." Dean gestures up with the bottle of Coke.

"Thank you, Dean," he says as he accepts the drink.

"D'you, uh... need help with any of this," the older man asks with a wide gesture at the room.

"I don't think so. Your presence is always welcome, though," Cas smiles with a gesture at the bed. And, really, Dean could never turn him down. He ducks into the room and stretches out on one half of the bed, the side that's not littered with various items that Cas has brought.

"Thank you for offering me this," the man says with a look of genuine appreciation. "I can't express how much it means to me."

Dean shrugs nonchalantly. "Not like I don't want you here."

He doesn't miss the way Castiel's lip quirks up at the corner as he pries open the next box. Dean takes a swig of his beer and just watches. Cas, in his dark blue sweater and jeans. With his perpetual bedhead and stubble. Dean has never met anybody whose demeanor could be described as quiet, but Castiel certainly shows that it's possible. Maybe Dean has simply never noticed people like that before, the kind who are content to sit at home with a book rather than showboat around town in shiny cars and leather jackets.

It's pretty damn hard not to notice Cas, though. Dean is pretty sure he'll never stop noticing.