Family Don't End With Blood /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

Don't Pity Me, Dean

A coolness had settled within the air.  The sky had already started to dim and the sun, having lost some of its golden glow, was threatening to retire.  The wildlife seemed to have sensed this, and some birds had begun their dusk chorus prematurely, as if to give their nocturnal friends and early rise.

Elsa had enjoyed this chatter immensely. 

Now, having dawdled back as far a the front door, she balanced the pie in one hand and used the other to ease open the door.  "Back," she announced, entering the kitchen, where Sam and Bobby were still sat talking. "Ellen sends her love."

Bobby nodded.  "How is she?"

"Good, I think," she turned to her brother, "I saw Jo too. That's the café she was telling us about, though it's a diner really."

"Cool, is their pie any good?"

"I haven't tried it.  It looks nice though."

"Dean will love it," Sam agreed.

~~

Dean had been lying on top of his bed, attempting to nap, when he was disturbed by a warning knock on his door, that then swung slowly open, revealing Sam standing in the entrance with a large container in hand.

"You feeling okay?" Sam was trying to tread carefully, making sure he said exactly the right things to avoid upsetting his brother further.

His caution didn't appear to be necessary though.

Dean had simply smiled and passed off his earlier behaviour as tiredness, before turning his attention to the mystery object.  "Whatcha got there Sammy?"

"More pie," Sam explained. "Elsa went to get it for you. It's from the diner Jo's family owns."

"Sweet. What flavour?"

"Apple."

Dean laughed.  "From Elsa, I'd expect nothing less."

Smiling, Sam placed the container on top of a set of draws and turned to leave.

"Hey, Sammy?  Thanks."

"No problem. But, Dean, seriously; Sammy was a cubby twelve-year-old."

"What, and he can't be a chubby fifteen-year-old too?"

"Dean!" Sam feigned outrage, "Are you saying I'm chubby?"

The elder Winchester was too busy laughing to give a coherent response.

"If anyone's chubby," Sam retorted, "It's you."  He closed the door firmly as he left the room, cutting off the remains of Dean's laughter.

~~

Wednesday morning came and went. 

Dean didn't have any classes with Cas until after break and, though he'd decided to try to speak to the Novak, he wasn't convinced that his attempts were likely to get him anywhere.

Cas, on the other hand, was thinking of more ways to avoid Dean.

Balthazar had teased him about falling for the Winchester and, though Cas had blatantly denied it, he was starting to think it may be true.

Every time Dean looked at him, with every flashing glimpse of those green eyes, Cas felt almost hypnotised.  He wanted to be around Dean as much as possible. He wanted to listen to him speak — even about the most mundane things — just to hear the melodic lull of his intonations.  He wanted to make him laugh, that laugh he did with his whole body: throwing his shoulders back as a bright smile lit up his face.  He wanted to be in his presence and get to know him, he wanted to learn about everything he liked and disliked, if only to satisfy his own sheer curiosity.  It was as if Dean Winchester was the most interesting human in the entirety of humanity and something in Cas wanted desperately to know him.