Dean didn't quite know why himself, but he would rather climb into Cas’s window every time he wished instead of doing the proper thing and just using the front door. There was something nice about it, daresay, romantic, and he knew that although Cas complained about it often, the Milton secretly loved it too.
That is, boundaries came into question when Dean once randomly climbed into Cas’s bedroom with no warning (as usual) only to find him aggressively mouthing the words along to the “Best of Both Worlds” by Hannah freaking Montana and dancing really badly.
Dean still hysterically laughed whenever he thought about it.
That was the day that Cas had made it a rule for Dean to text or call, then wait for Cas’s reply. before he came, so the Milton could force Shiba out and make sure he wasn't doing anything super embarrassing that Dean would tease him about for the rest of his life. When Dean had suggested that that rule only existed so he didn't walk in on him jacking off, Cas had shoved him, rolling his eyes and burying his nose back into his book.
Today was April Fool’s though, and as Dean expertly climbed into the tree he figured that if he didn't call at least this time the only thing it would do was just ruin the joke he had planned. And it was a pretty damn good joke.
He climbed inside Cas’s room smiling, then immediately tensed up, his whole body going into defensive mode.
The first clue that something was wrong was the dark.
It was completely pitch black in the room; which was weird because Cas hated the dark and always kept a lamp on even when he wasn’t in his room. Dean had teased him about it when he found out, but Cas quickly shut him up by reminding him that he was terrified of cockroaches.
The second thing he was aware of was the sound. Faint and barely noticeable unless you were listening hard for it, it was a quiet noise that resembled…crying?
He craned his neck toward the sound coming from the bed; he couldn’t see a thing, and hesitantly walked forward a few steps.
Okay, this shit is officially freaking me out.
He was just about to call out Cas’s name when his noise twitched, making contact with something it didn't like. Out came a thunderous sneeze, followed by ferocious more. It was Shiba, he presumed. Frightened, the feline meowed softly and scampered out the room; the door was wide open but the whole house was dark so Dean still couldn't see a thing.
As Dean’s sneezing stopped he realized that the other noise coming from the bed had stopped as well, and he froze, terrified. For some reason, the Winchester felt like he had been caught doing something wrong, like he was stealing something instead of visiting his boyfriend like he did almost everyday.
The voice was rough, small, and pitiful, but Dean had heard it more than enough times to know who it was.
“Dean?”
“Cas!”
Of course, who else would it be? Still, a huge wave of relief washed over him, and the first thing he did was run to turn on the lights because being in the dark in someone else’s house in the middle of the night, even if it was your soul mate’s house, was reeeaaallllyyy creepy.
He wish he hadn't flicked the switch as soon as he had.
Cas was lying in his bed with the covers up his chin, curled up in a fetal position. His eyes were bloodshot and he was clutching something tightly to his chest. He looked miserable and depressed and terrified and Dean’s heart broke in two just looking at him.
It was obvious that he’d been crying.
“Cas,” Dean whispered softly, walking towards him, “what happened?”
He sat down on the bed next to him, and watched his soul mate look helplessly up at him, unable to speak. Cas huffed, his eyes traveling down to his phone.
Dean let out a breath, climbing on the bed and laying down on the other pillow, sliding into the covers. Cas’s body was warm, no, hot, and Dean knit his eyebrows together in worry as he put a hand on his soul mate’s forehead.
“Angel, you’re burning up.”
Cas swatted Dean’s hand away in annoyance, his eyes closed, and Dean was getting to the point where he was about to shake his boyfriend if he didn't say something goddamnit when Cas let out a soft sob and buried his face in Dean’s chest.
Oh
Dean let out a shaky breath and rested his chin on the top of Cas’s head, drawing small circles with his palm on the Milton’s back. It was heartbreaking really; Cas didn't get like this. No, Cas was a stubborn little shit who read 500 page books in a day and laughed at really bad puns. He wasn't this pitiful little ball of…being, who looked like death itself and was clutching his phone for some reason. He didn't say anything, Cas deserved his space, but it went on for so long that Dean was starting to get really impatient and so he pulled back and cupped his soul mate’s face gently so he didn't seem too harsh.
“Cas.” he asked, more firmly this time. He gently brushed away a lock of hair from the 19 year old’s face, watching it fall back in place and curling at the end. “What. Is. Going. On.”
The Milton took a shaky breath, obviously trying to calm down, and he gestured to his phone.
“It’s Anna,” he finally choked out, “she’s been in a car accident.”
“What?!”
“It was a drunk driver,” he continued in a raspy voice, and anger and disbelief rose up inside Dean.
“I don’t think she’s going to make it."
***********************
After 5 minutes straight of hysteria from both of the boys, they finally calmed down enough for Cas to tell Dean the full story.
Anna had been driving back from a friend’s house when Mr. Milton got a call that a car registered to their address had been in a car crash. The person who hit them had been a drunk driver speeding way over limit on the wrong side of the road. Panicking, Mr. and Mrs. Milton had hurried to the hospital, refusing to bring Cas with them despite his protests. They had told him that he was to stay home and not worry; they would sort it out themselves. When Cas told that part of the story to him, furious at his parents, Dean numbly thought that they were right; if something had happened to their dad he would want to sort it out quickly himself, not have Sammy freaking out and doing nothing but make everything more hectic next to him. Cas had no choice but to stay anyway, his parents had took the car and Anna had been in the other one.
When Cas finished, he gestured to the phone that he was clutching so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
“My parents have been keeping me updated by texting me. So far the only information I have is that she has major head and rib injuries.”
“What kind of head and rib injuries?”
“That’s all I know.”
Cas continued, blinking back tears, “I do know that the drunk driver was a hit and run. They haven’t found him yet, but the police are working on it.”
Dean sighed, rubbing at his face. He was so tired of it all. Just when things got good, just when he thought that maybe everything was alright and they were going to be happy and then this…!
He scooted closer to Cas and put an arm around him, and as he did, he wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort his soul mate or himself.
Maybe both.
He was so tempted to get up and grab his keys and drive to the hospital, but of course Cas’s parents would not like that one bit and they were right; it was better for them to stay here. His car was just sitting there in the driveway, and it took a lot of self control for Dean not to suggest to drive him and Cas there.
Of course, Cas was set one getting there, and he was a stubborn little shit, seeing no reason.
“Dean,” he said suddenly, wriggling out of his grip and getting up from the bed. He had turned from depressed to incredibly determined in two seconds flat, and it kind of amazed Dean how he could do that. “The Impala is right there.”
He jerked his thumb towards the window where the old black car was sitting in the driveway.
“Cas…”
The mechanic shook his head, knowing where his boyfriend was getting at.
“You have to drive me to the hospital.”
Dean sighed once more, getting up as well and gently taking Cas’s hand in his own. Cas resisted, pulling back and curling his hand into fists.
“I’m so sorry, angel.”
“Dean, you have to drive me to the hospital!”
“I wish I could.”
“You can!” Cas nearly screamed, gesturing wildly to the Impala. “You absolutely can!”
Dean let out a shaky breath, tears clouding his vision.
“Cas, no. Your parents are right. You’re freaking out and…just…go to bed, angel. It’ll be alright, she’ll be alright.”
“No!” Cas yelled, startling Dean; he never thought he would ever see Cas so furious and upset and…frazzled. Cas was generally a very calm person. “She’s my sister Dean. I might’ve not raised her like you did with Sam, but she’s my sister and best friend and even though we annoy the hell out of each other all the time, she’s been the only person who’s been there for me my entire life! So you,” he jabbed his pointer finger into Dean’s chest, and his eyes were filled with blind rage and a hint of sorrow, “are going to drive me to the goddamn hospital or so help me God.”
He spit out the last word when he was all up in Dean’s face, their noses almost touching. Breathing heavily and gritting his teeth, Cas pulled back and straightened his trench coat and then proceeded to glare at his soul mate, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. His hair added to the whole “I am a crazy person” thing going on, defying gravity without any gel or product by sticking up in random directions impossibly.
Beyond everything, he just looked sad. He just looked plain depressed, and Dean knew that he was turning that depression into anger because that was what he used to do too. He used to take all his sadness about his mother dying and his dad being a deadbeat and him having to pay for his little brother’s education, and turn it into blind rage; multiple fights and suspensions in school became the effect of this, until he finally just dropped out. Dean didn’t want that to happen to Cas, he didn't want Anna to…die and Cas to turn into another version of him. Because the worse thing that the mechanic could ever think could happen to a person was for them to turn into him, Dean Winchester.
It was so hard for him to say his next words, because he wished so desperately that he didn't have to.
“No.”
Cas let out a scream of frustration at him, throwing the nearest object at him (which was only a pillow, thank god) and Dean noticed that tears were openly streaming down his soul mate’s face, and it hurt, it hurt so bad. It hurt Dean to see Cas like this, and he hated it.
Why him? Why Anna?
But, why anyone, really? Why did anything happen to anyone? Why did sweet little kids die of cancer when they barely had even begun to live, why did mothers die in fires so that their husbands could become deadbeat drunk abusive dads who were never there for their children, why did beautiful kind 19 year old girls who had just quite started to figure out the world get hit by people that they didn't even know?
Because that was life.
And life sucked.
Cas cursed under his breath as he hastily tried to tie his shoelaces with shaking fingers, waking Dean out of his haze. The Winchester turned around and frowned at his boyfriend, who was having a little more than trouble attempting to tie his shoelaces. It was probably because he was sitting down on the carpet with his foot propped up in front of him, resting a few inches above his head on a bookshelf. His knee was sticking out in an awkward angle, almost stabbing him in the eye, and his fingers were trembling a lot as well.
“Cas, what are you doing?”
“Tying my shoelaces.”
His voice was even, hard, and that scared Dean more than when he had just been screaming. Kneeling down next him, Dean didn't try to touch him because he knew he’d just end up getting shrugged off, and watched for a few seconds as his boyfriend desperately attempt to tie his shoes to no avail.
“I just said I’m not driving you.”
Cas scoffed, standing up with his shoes untied. He brushed himself off, shoving his phone in his coat pocket and walking past Dean. The mechanic watched in confusion as his boyfriend calmly buttoned his coat and tightened the straps around his waist, not bothering to tie them.
“I know, I’m walking. I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me before.”
Dean snorted, causing Cas to turn around in anger.
“Don’t snort at me!”
“The hospital is 10 miles away. It’ll take ages for you to get there, and it’s pitch black outside. No way in hell are you walking.”
“Don't tell me what to do, Danny. I don’t take orders from anyone.” Cas replied icily.
The last comment and the sass that had been directed at him from the moment he had refused to drive made Dean snap back in annoyance.
“You’re being a overdramatic freaking idiot, calm the hell down! I’m trying to help you, you little shit!”
Dean inwardly slapped himself as soon as the words left his mouth and he saw the stunned look on his soul mate’s face.
That is literally the first thing not to say when someone’s sister is possibly dying in a hospital. I am such a jerk.
The words spat out at him next from Cas was what he deserved, Dean told himself, but it didn't make them hurt less.
“I hate you!”
It stung, it really did, but Dean knew that Cas didn't really hate him and was just acting in the heat of the moment. He stared at his soulmate as he realized what he had just said, and Cas looked up at Dean in horror.
Breaking the unspoken rule that Cas had set up of “don’t touch me” in the last few minutes, Dean stepped forward, enlacing his soul mate into a tight hug. There was slight resistance at first as Cas stubbornly attempted to wriggle out his grip, rather out of pride than anger, but then he gave in, sinking into Dean’s arms. The Winchester closed his eyes, sighing in relief that this whole fight didn't go on for too long, and felt Cas hug him back. Hearing a faint sob emit from his soul mate that was muffled because Cas’s face was buried into his shirt, Dean hushed him softly, rubbing a hand across the Milton’s back.
“Shhhh, angel, it’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.”
Cas sobbed once more, muffling out, “I don’t hate you Dean.”
Dean just smiled sadly, kissing his soul mate’s hair gently.
“I know.”
They fell asleep with their breath hot against their skin and hands clutching to each other in desperation to cling to something good.
******************
30 MINUTES LATER
Dean’s eyes snapped open as his phone- that was currently wedged into his jean’s pocket- starting obnoxiously ringing his classic rock ringtone that he had loved before but now was freaking loud jesus christ. He yawned, blearily rubbing his eyes and taking it out as fast as he could half awake so he didn’t startle his sleeping boyfriend, who was gently snoring like an idiot, with one leg thrown over his own and an arm dangling off the edge. He didn’t bother checking the number- Dean didn’t want to go blind because of the brightness of the screen- and shoved the cell to his ear.
Who the hell calls in the middle of the night, jesus christ.
If this is Sam, I swear to God I’m taking away that little punk’s Sherlock Holmes novels that he probably jacks off to every night.
“Hello?” he inquired, grumpily.
“Dean.”
The Winchester stiffened a gasp, and shot up in the bed, suddenly wide awake. Cas groaned softly in his sleep, mumbling something and turning over, and Dean’s head pounded wildly as he waited for the person on the other line to speak again.
Why is he calling?
He never calls.
I’m surprised he even knows my number.
There was a silence from the phone, and Dean realized that the speaker was waiting for him to say something, to acknowledge his presence. He finally breathed it out, terrified of the possibilities of why that person could be calling.
“Dad?”
John Winchester made no noise as he paused, probably searching for the right words. Each breath from the other line caused Dean’s heart to beat faster and faster and faster as he imagined all the things that could've happened.
“Son-”
Son? He doesn't call me that.
“I’m in jail, and there’s no bail.”
Dean blinked, his brain not quite processing what his father had just told him.
“You what?”
John replied in a tone that Dean had never heard his father use before. It was a scared tone, a slightly panicked one.
“I was driving by here and I hit some car.”
Dean was having trouble breathing now, and as he sat there, making the connection, he was so close to screaming out loud in anger.
“Were you drunk?!” he spat out, furious.
“Yeah, I-”
“Were you speeding on the wrong side of the road?”
“How do you know that?”
Dean ignored him, his blind rage building up.
“After you hit the car, did you run?”
“Listen to me, goddamnit,” his father whispered fiercely, not used to being talked to like that.
“No, you listen to me!”
Dean was practically foaming at the mouth, and he felt a hand on his back. Glancing back, he realized that he had woken up Cas and the Milton was sitting there, listening with an incredibly worried look on his face.
“After you hit the car, did you or did you not run?”
His father paused, clearly trying to think of something to say other than the answer.
“ANSWER ME!”
“Yes! Ok? Yes! I can’t go to jail Dean!” his father was yelling into the phone now, and he sounded like he was crying, but no, that wasn’t true, he couldn't be. His dad was a tough man, he didn't cry.
“I ran because I knew that I would be facing years in prison and a damn big fine hanging over my ass.”
“You…you…” Dean simply couldn't find the words; nothing that he could possibly call his dad right now would ever do justice in a thousand years. This, this was the lowest thing that anyone could do, and he couldn't believe that his father, someone that he had deeply admired once when his mother was around, could stoop so low.
So he opted for throwing his phone across the room at the wall instead, screaming out in rage.
To his frustration, the phone didn't break.
Not so much as a scratch.