Fake ID's

Fake ID's

Dean fidgets with the small item in his hands.  He's ridiculously excited- and not in a girly way, he tells himself- and slightly nervous.  A small smile plays at the corners of his lips and he fights to keep them down as he approaches the slump shouldered man at the table.

Cas has been having a hard time since "the fall."  Finding Castiel had surprisingly not been difficult and Dean had not expected their reunion to go as it had.

When the sky lit up that night with Sammy in his arms he had been scared and his world had started falling apart.  The helpless feeling he had was unbearable.  Here was his brother presumably dying in his arms (again) and his best friend he could only assume was dead now.  Again.  

And there was nothing he could do to stop any of it.  Not a damn thing.

So he did what he could and took Sam to a hospital, hoping that someone there wouldn't be as useless as he felt at the moment.  There was nothing he could do for his angelic friend and he tried not to think about it.  Between the angels ALL falling to Earth and his little brother's condition (which was of top priority) he hadn't had the time to dwell on his friends' death. 

Dean spent about two weeks next to Sam's bedside in the hospital where thankfully the youngest Winchester had fallen into a deep sleep.  Thankfully, because he didn't appear to be in any pain now, though the comatose state didn't exactly make the knot of unease drift away.  

Kevin had called several times after Dean dropped Crowley off at the Men of Letters bunker.  He would either complain about Crowley's new state of reformation (which was supposedly annoying as all hell) or ask about Sam's condition.  

In those two weeks Dean's only friend had been a cup of coffee that kept magically refilling... possibly thanks to the nurse who was taking care of his little brother.  

Then one day, Sam sat up suddenly, gasping for breath like he had just been born and this was the first time air was touching his lungs.  As surprised and thrilled Dean was that Sam, who had all been but a vegetable, was now up and moving around- healthier than ever- he couldn't help the sense of foreboding.  

Nothing good ever came out of someone suddenly reviving with no idea how.  Not in their story anyways.  

And while the reason for Sam's suddenly healed state hasn't reared it's ugly head yet, Dean is waiting.

Kevin seemed ready to kill Crowley by the time that Sam and Dean returned to the bunker.  Crowley's "too good" behavior had been creeping out the poor prophet.  

Sam decided to take over watching the partial demon and to everyone's surprise, got along swimmingly well.  Dean would roll his eyes whenever he walked by and his little brother was girl-ing about something with the shorter man.

Kevin went back to translating the angel tablet, holing himself up somewhere in the large headquarters, occasionally coming out for some form of sustenance before retreating into the cavern of crazy he has built for himself despite Dean's efforts to get him to not work to death.

Left to his own devices, Dean worked on the new fallen angel problem.  Several problems seemed to have popped up all around the globe.  "Miracles" and oddities here and there.  A lot of people who shouldn't exist suddenly appearing.  You know... the works.  

The biggest problem was the media poking their heads into places it shouldn't be.  Hunters all around were trying to keep them in the dark with all the lies and tactics they could muster.  Didn't need a panic on their hands.

Then, about a month ago, Castiel showed up.  

Dean had been so busy, burying himself in this fallen angel business that he hadn't let himself dwell to much on his dead friend.  He didn't want to go there.  Not yet at least.

He was working at the table when he heard a knock on the door, which was strange.  No one had ordered food (as far as he knew) and no one besides Charlie knew this address... at least he hoped not.  

He gave a quick glance around the room to see if anyone else residing in the bunker was going to get that.  Apparently not.  

Grabbing his gun, he headed towards the thick door.  Hand firmly on the handle he peered through the small viewer.  

The moment he saw who it was, against all better judgement he flung the door open with a loud, "Cas?!"

Cas looked worse than he did in purgatory.  Once again unshaven, disheveled, and dirty.  He had bags under his eyes and his blue eyes seemed exhausted and weary.

"Hello, Dean."  

Dean should have been suspicious, should have tested him for every known thing in the book of monsters, but some how he just knew it was him.  And all the anger that he had felt previously concerning Cas' lack of trust in him, leaving once again, and most likely causing all the angels to fall to Earth flew out the door.  

"Dean, I-... I di-"  Cas began, his brows upturned in was looked like regret mixed with guilt and sadness.  But Dean cut him off in a rare show of affection, tugging the other man to him in a fierce hug, tucking his face into Cas' neck and squeezing his eyes shut tight, holding his breath.  

Cas stiffened underneath him before tentatively returning the hug.  At that Dean let go, standing back a little, still keeping one arm on his friend who was alive.  Alive.

"It's good to see you."  And it was.

"Dean...  I thought you would be angry with me," Cas said disbelieving this warm welcome.  

Dean smiled a bit, like he was enjoying some sort of personal inside joke, at this before patting Cas on the shoulder and then pointing a finger in between his big blue eyes.  

"Don't get me wrong, man.  All is NOT forgiven," Cas seems to deflate a little at this, "But I am glad to see that you're still in the land of the living." Cas looks up a bit hesitantly, quirking his mouth slightly to one side in what Dean has come to realize was his "I'm ashamed" look.  

The look quickly goes away as realization plays across Cas' features and he starts, "Dean.  The angels-  they've all-"

"Fallen.  I know.  It was kind of hard not to notice the apocalyptic rain of flaming bodies hitting the-"  Dean cuts him off and then pauses.  Sniffs the air and at Cas' questioning look continues.  "Dude... when was the last time you bathed?"  

Cas gave Dean an exasperated look before Dean invited him in to wash off the grime and explain how he was no longer an angel (which explained the smell) and his experience as a traveling homeless man in order to get there.

A month later and Castiel was adjusting, but his mood had yet to improve.  Rightfully so.  He had made a poor choice, yet again, and it resulted in the mass of his family to become humans.  The guilt had to be extraordinary and Dean felt for his friend.  

Dean had cornered him about his mood once and had got slapped with a very bitter answer.  One that dripped with the overwhelming power of loneliness.

"I have no family Dean!  My brothers and sisters have ALL suffered because of me," he was furious, red in the face, "So excuse me if I have a 'sour look'," there went the air quotes.  

The former angel had went on further, calming down slightly and explaining that he previously had those that believed in him, in what he stood for even if he made poor choices.  Now... he worried that he would be estranged from his family.  That he would no longer be welcome in any part of it.  That he was, for all intents and purposes, alone.  And without the voices of his siblings crowding in his head, he was feeling it more than ever.

Dean had sat through and listened to his friend.  He was getting a little better at this sharing and caring thing.  

Seeing his friend slumped over himself, head in hands and a shadow of his former self made him want to do something.  Alleviate a little of that loneliness and self loathing.  

Which brings us to present day.  

Dean wasn't very good at this sort of thing...  In fact he was quite possibly terrible.  Gift giving was not his forte and providing comfort was something he wasn't exactly keen participating in. 

But for Cas... he could try, he supposed.  As long as it would wipe that sad look out of his blue puppy eyes and he could get on with his life.

"Hey Cas," Dean started, gaining the attention of the newest member of the Men of Letter bunker.  The former angel turned to look at Dean.  Dean closed the distance between them, standing in that uncomfortable, yet oh so familiar personal space of his friend.  He had Cas' full attention now.  

"Look I know this whole no mojo thing hasn't exactly been easy on you.  But I thought-," he stumbles a bit flustered now, doubting the validity of his idea.  "I got this for you," he settles for instead and hands the small item to Castiel.

Castiel took the piece of plastic in his hands, squinting at it and looking at the piece as if it held the answer to all of life's problems.  

"It's not real, it's a fake ID.  You know, can't really hack into the government and turn you into a real boy," he gives a hesitant laugh, trying to fill in the silence, "but it's yours.  I wanted you to have it."  He stops and purses his lips, looking at Cas all wide-eyed, waiting for a reaction.

Cas stops looking at the card and looks up at Dean, tilting his head slightly and Dean dies a little at the sincerity of emotions that are displayed on the former angels face.

"It says...  Castiel... Winchester," Cas says it in a way that makes Dean shiver a little.

"Welcome to the family," It comes out almost as a question and Dean hesitantly manages to give a half smirk at Cas who suddenly looks a little overwhelmed and to Dean, maybe a little bit warmer and a little less lonely.

"You've earned it Castiel," Sam says suddenly from a doorway in which he was not five minutes ago.  Dean steps back out of Cas' space and rubs the back of his neck, a little embarrassed now.

"Thank you... the both of you," Cas gives a little smile at the brothers and Dean knows that his gift was appreciated.

"Don't I get one?"  All heads present turn to look next to Sam as Crowley appeared.  "I mean we're practically blood brothers you and I," the man looks at Sam, trying to argue his case, and the taller of the too huffs and rolls his eyes at the mere suggestion.  

"No."  Dean says.  Crowley looks a little put out.    

Cas smiles a bit to himself.  

He tucks the little card, fake or not, into his pocket where he would treasure it for a long time.  

Dean turns to Cas and their eyes catch and neither can help the warm looks that enter their eyes and the smiles that catch their lips  

And if Dean at that moment entertains the thought of Sam finding a strong gal, settling down, growing old in their new home and of Cas and himself riding off into the sunset, hell bent on protecting some poor bastard from the things that go bump in the night, no one needs to know.  

  OMG.  So sorry about my horrible writing skills.  So out of practice :(  But, I just had to get this idea out of my head! :)  I would so love for Dean to give Cas a fake ID with Castiel Winchester on it :D