The Boy With The Big Blue Eyes (Destiel)

Chapter Eighteen

Dean closed the new motel room door behind him quietly as he saw Sam already in bed. He picked the set of keys up off the side table and locked the door securely, pulling the handle twice just in case. Dean walked over to his single bed, grunting as he sat down on the cheap, creaking mattress. He sniffed as he ran his hand through his hair once, looking around the new motel room. It was silent.   He looked over to Sam's bed, his back to Dean, body under the covers, his hand clutching the side of his pillow. Dean knew he was awake, Sam did this a lot when he didn't want to talk, but it was fine with Dean. He slid his coat off and kicked his boots off his feet, lying back oh his bed, propping a pillow behind him to support his neck. He grabbed the remote on the bedside table and pressed it at the TV. The high pitch static of the cheap set filled the room. Dean winced, clapping his hands over his ears at the almost painful sound. Sam jerked up, startled. Dean fumbled with the remote, managing to turn it off. The static stopped. Dean sighed in relief, throwing the remote carelessly onto the covers. He looked over to Sam to laugh with him about it but Sam had already turned away again, covers over his head this time. Something was up with him, he was upset. Dean rubbed his forehead. He didn't want to ask, he didn't want to know, because of the fear that he already knew the reason... Dean felt too warm all of a sudden from his troubled thoughts and he turned roughly onto his side, his back to Sam. He exhaled sharply from his nose, pulling the pillow closer under his head. Dean expelled the thoughts from his mind and instead thought of tomorrow, Thursday, a whole day with Cas. Dean felt a small smile, growing on his face as he dreamed, eyes slowly closing as he thought of Castiel. His beautiful Castiel.

Dean heard a sudden loud knocking, pulling him back to consciousness. The knocking continued and Dean jerked awake. He quickly blinked his heavy eyelids open, noticing that the room was considerably darker, he must have been asleep for quite a while. He jumped off the bed and made his way to the door. His fingers instinctively itched for the shotgun propped up against the wall but he decided to look through the peephole first. He put his eye close to it and saw John outside. Dean turned the key and unlocked the door, John pushed it open forcefully making Dean step back quickly. He shut it closed firmly behind him and locked it again. Dean looked at his father expectantly, waiting for word of how it went. His eyes scanned over him looking for any possible injuries, but there were none. John made his way over to the small fridge and pulled out a beer, he then shrugged off his coat and threw it over the chair. Dean watched him as he took a long swig from the bottle before turning to Dean. He gave him the thumbs up "I got him kid." He grunted, smiling "I got him." Dean's tense body relaxed as he smiled back at his father. John nodded at him before making his way over to Sam's sleeping self. He rested his hand lightly on his youngest son's head, causing Sam to move slightly in his sleep. Dean couldn't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy at this show of affection that Sam wouldn't even remember. He removed his hand and looked back to Dean. "No problems, I take it?" he asked. Dean cleared his throat "No, sir." he replied, voice slightly croaky from sleepiness. "Good." John replied, looking down at Sam. Dean looked away. He heard John walk over to his bed and sit down on it with a humph. "You gonna get some sleep boy?" Dean looked up again "Uh- what time is it?" John looked at his watch "2 am." Dean shrugged "Yeah I suppose I'd better." Dean walked over to his bed and slowly sat down. "Night, Son." John said as he lay down to sleep. "Night, Dad." Dean replied mechanically. Dean rolled over onto his side and shut his eyes. 

Dean woke up to a sunlight filled motel room. He stretched out his arms and groaned as he blinked sleepily. "Mornin." Sam said. Dean turned his head and saw him standing by his bed, folding a shirt. "Hey." He replied as his eyes followed the shirt. "Hey... Is that yours?" Dean asked, pointing to the new looking plaid shirt in Sam' hands. "Oh... Yeah, Charlie gave it to me." Sam shrugged. "Really?" Dean questioned, standing up and scratching his head. He quickly slipped on his boots and reached over to grab his jacket. "Yeah, as a leaving present." Sam said. Dean stopped suddenly. "A what?" Sam looked over to him casually "A leaving present." he repeated simply, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Dean stared at him "And since when are we-" the door was suddenly pulled open and John walked in. "Howdy boys, you get packed Sam? Good man."