Chapter Text
“If you can’t do it, I need you to tell me.”
Sam closed his eyes and leaned onto his kitchen counter. “Dean, I said I would do it.”
“I’m serious. It’s no big deal if you can’t. I’ll figure something else out. I just gotta know.”
“What did I say? Did I say I would do it?”
His brother heaved a sigh that seemed to have too much adrenaline behind it. “It’s just a lot to ask, and I know that. Ellen knows some people. I could go to them.”
“Dean. Stop. I know you can’t tell me everything, and that’s okay. You said this wasn’t putting me in any danger or anything. It’s fine.”
“I would never put you in danger. You know that.” The man’s voice was muffled for a moment, as though he were covering the mouthpiece of the phone, but Sam could still hear him speaking to someone else. “Yeah, spasibo, yeah,” he said when the line cleared up. “Sammy, you still there?”
“I’m here.”
“Okay, I gotta go. You’re sure, right?”
“Dean, stop asking. This is important; I can tell. It’s fine. I’m happy to help out.”
“Okay. Thank you, little brother. It’ll just be for a little while. I promise. And I’ll never forget it.”
“Just stay safe yourself, okay?”
Dean never responded directly to that request, and it made Sam a little crazy. “He’s on his way. Be there in forty-eight. The guy dropping him off won’t say much. Don’t ask him any questions. He’ll just make something up anyway.”
“I won’t. It’s fine.”
“I won’t forget this, Sammy. Four weeks, five tops.”
“As long as you need,” he soothed. “You take care of you, and I’ll take care of your buddy.”
“Gotta go. I’ll text you.”
Sam stared at his dark phone and sighed softly. “No, you won’t,” he grumbled. “And I’ll worry about you every night that you don’t.”
But that was an issue for another day. Today, he was hurrying around his house, cleaning, straightening, arranging, preparing. For the first time in years, Sam was going to live with someone. He hadn’t shared space with anyone since he and Rudy had finally admitted to themselves and one another that it was never going to work out for them. That was six years ago, right out of graduate school. After that toxic relationship ended, Sam had been relieved to have the place to himself.
When he had moved into this new house, he had thought having three bedrooms just for him was a complete waste of space. He had turned one of the extra rooms into a den of sorts, filled it with his books and put in a nice desk for work and a small recliner for reading, and the other became a guest room for the very rare occasion in which Dean was on the same continent. Most of the year, it was empty and the house was lonely.
Sam had spent all weekend turning that guest room into a real habitat. Part of him tried to pretend that he was cleaning up the place for Dean to come home permanently, that Dean had done his job out there, done good work, and now he was coming home to retire and live a normal life in the civilian world. Sam knew that was never going to happen. Nothing short of catastrophic injury could take Dean Winchester out of the life, and catastrophic injury was exactly what Sam was so afraid of. So he supposed he should be grateful that it wasn’t Dean he was preparing this space for after all.
Two days later, Sam was reading in his den when he heard the car door slam outside his window. He glanced anxiously at his watch. They were early, but that was just as well. All this waiting was making him crazy. He hurried down the stairs just as the doorbell was ringing.
He took a deep breath and opened the door.
Whatever he had been expecting to find on his front porch flew from his head in an instant. The first feature to strike Sam was a pair of sharp, intelligent blue eyes beneath dark hair, and the second was the way the man was standing, as though he was ready to defend himself in a physical altercation.
Sam stared at him.
A voice spoke for them both, from behind this man. “Hello, Sam. This is Castiel. Cas? We talked about this.”
He glanced down to see that the other man’s hand was near but not touching Castiel’s wrist, as if ready to grab him if necessary.
The blue eyes lifted to meet the dark ones of the man behind him. “We don’t know him.”
The other man sighed. “Dean does.”
Castiel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he gave a tiny, slow nod. “Yes. Of course. Dean.”
“Yeah. You know Dean. And Dean knows this guy. So make this work, buddy.”
At last, those sharp eyes lowered, and Castiel swallowed. “I will. I’m sorry.”
Sam tried to smile. “I’m glad you’re here. Come on in.” He stepped aside to let them into the house.
The other man ushered Castiel in, and then he himself immediately began to look around. “I’m Cole,” he said pleasantly. “Nice place you have here. Looks just like what me and the wife want for ourselves someday. Mind if I snoop around, get some ideas for a house I’ll probably never buy?” he laughed.
Sam watched him. He smiled tightly. “Sure, knock yourself out.” Dean had warned him the guy escorting Castiel would need to search the place. He just wished Cole would come right out and say that was what he was doing, since they all knew it. The playacting irritated Sam. It reminded him that Dean’s whole life was lies on top of lies on top of secrets.
So he let Cole wander his house, and he tried not to feel violated by that. He had agreed to help Dean’s colleague. He had known what he was agreeing to. He couldn’t get indignant about it all now that the day was here.
“The windows are nice,” Castiel mumbled.
Sam turned to him with surprise. “What?”
Castiel cleared his throat. “The…the way they’re covered completely for privacy, but…but also with a sort of material that lets in so much sunlight. The…curtains. You know. It’s nice.”
A real smile came over him at last. “I’m glad you like them. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing when it comes to decorating. I just go with whatever I like in theory and hope it all comes together in practice.”
His guest nodded thoughtfully. “It works. I like it,” he said, and then he fell silent again.
Sam watched him as one hand smoothed down his long coat, and the other gripped a black bag too tightly. “Can I take that for you?”
The fist closed even tighter. “No. Thank you.”
“Okay. Um. Are you hungry? I was about to start some lunch. I didn’t know much about what you like, except that Dean says you don’t have any allergies or anything. So I made up a deli platter. Just…you know, cold cuts, cheeses and veggies for sandwiches. I figured you can’t go wrong with sandwiches,” he shrugged awkwardly. “And while we eat, you can tell me the sorts of things you enjoy most, and we can get them for the rest of the time you’re here. I figured it was a waste to do a bunch of grocery shopping before we talked about what you like.”
A tiny smile shone in Castiel’s eyes. “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you. I’m sure I would be happy with anything you provided. You’re doing me a great favor by letting me stay. They…arranged for compensation, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, no, that’s all taken care of.” He snorted. “That was a nice surprise, actually. I thought I was just doing a favor for a buddy of my brother’s. When the check showed up, I wasn’t even sure what it was for. It was…” He chuckled and put his hands out to his sides. “We can buy a lot of cold cuts with that stipend.”
Castiel gave him a bit of a smirk. “Considering what I’ve done for them, the government can buy us sandwiches for the rest of our lives.”
He wanted to ask. He knew he couldn’t, but he wanted to.
Cole tromped down the stairs, whistling softly as though he really were just looking at the layout of Sam’s house due to an interest in real estate. He poked around in the kitchen and bathroom on the first level, discreetly glancing around each corner on alert for any threats. Then he returned to the living area and smiled. “Yeah, nice place. My wife always says we need something bigger. Who knows? Maybe we’ll look at a neighborhood like this someday?” He looked at Castiel when he said, “I might just drive around the block a little bit on my way out. See if this kind of place is what she might like.”
Castiel was silent, but he gave a single nod.
Cole reached out and smacked Sam’s arm. “Thanks again for helping out, Sammy.”
“It’s Sam,” he muttered. It didn’t matter. The guy was leaving.
“Right. Cas? You gonna be able to relax and get some rest? Those are the doc’s orders, right?”
Castiel was frowning down at his bag now. “Yes. I know what my orders are. I’ve never needed reminding before.”
Cole gave him a strangely fond sort of smile. “No,” he said softly. “You’re a legend, Cas.”
Sam stared at him in surprise, but Castiel did not look up.
Then the moment was over, and Cole wiped all real sentiment from his face to return to the mask of very fake politeness. “Anyway, my friend Kit will be checking in now and then to see if you guys need anything. You each have my number. If anything isn’t right, just call and leave me a message that I need to come for dinner. Okay? Nothing else. Just say, Cole, man, why don’t you come for dinner tonight? And no matter what time of day or night, I’ll be here. You got it?” He looked hard at Sam. “Say it for me, if you don’t mind.”
“Cole, man, why don’t you come visit for dinner?”
The fake smile was back. “That’s it! Okay, have a good visit, Cas! And remember what I said. Check in with your doc every day, or I get a phone call from him suggesting I check in with you.”
“Goodbye, Cole. Thank you for your help.”
Sam smirked at the dryness in Castiel’s voice.
Cole went to smack him on the arm too, then seemed to think better of it at the last minute. He waved instead and hurried from the house, and the whistling followed him from the porch.
“He’s going to check your yard. And back yard.”
Sam nodded. “I know. Dean said he would do that.”
Castiel sighed. “As if I couldn’t take care of checking the place myself, they have to send a kid to do it for me.”
“Not a fan?”
His guest sighed and shrugged. “He’s a good man. Believe it or not. It just irritates me that I’m finally back in America and still need a handler. And it irritates me more that he’s the most hands-on handler I’ve ever had in my career, and being ten years my junior just makes it worse.”
Something about this complaint made Sam feel better. So Castiel wasn’t going to pretend, as Cole had tried to do, that Sam couldn’t be told anything at all. He knew there were aspects of this, secrets, that he wasn’t allowed to know. But he couldn’t help being relieved that they didn’t have to pretend that Sam didn’t know he was providing a safe house for a government spy.
Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. It isn’t very professional of me.”
Sam hurried to shake his head. “No! I was just…I was just thinking, I’m glad you aren’t, like, pretending to be a tax accountant or something. It’s kind of insulting to both my intelligence and my willingness to help.”
Blue eyes blinked at him for a moment, then a slow smile shone in them, even if it didn’t truly extend to his lips. “You’re Dean Winchester’s brother. Aren’t you?”
“Yes. He’s my older brother.”
“Then you can’t know the truth, but I’m not going to fabricate anything for you either. Cole’s right. I don’t know you, but I know Dean. If he trusts you, so can I. Forgive my occasional bouts of paranoia. It isn’t personal.”
“It’s an occupational hazard, as I understand it.”
Castiel smiled and looked into the distance for a moment. “It’s strange,” he said at last. “What we do…it’s a strange combination of being trained to trust no one, even our closest allies, and yet being forced to trust strangers all the time in order to build alliances and get the job done.”
This fascinated Sam, and he watched him in silence, mulling over this concept.
His hand gripped his bag even tighter. “Sam, I don’t know what they told you. What Dean might have told you. But I’m not entirely well.”
He winced. “PTSD, Dean said. Bad.”
Castiel lowered his gaze. “Sometimes I’ll be more…rational than other times. So let me apologize up front. When you first greeted us at the door, I wasn’t…I am grateful for your help, Sam. I don’t mean to ever seem that I’m not. I’m still…relearning how to…I spent many years unable to-to talk to anyone, and…and it’s been over four years since I had any contact with anyone who wasn’t…hostile.”
Realization came over him, and his heart began to ache. “You were a prisoner somewhere.”
“Before the series of events in the last three weeks to secure my release and bring me home, it had been four years since I even spoke any English, Sam. So please forgive me when I hesitate sometimes. I’m relearning…everything.”
“That’s why you need me. A safe house, I mean. To recover before you can move on.”
“As I say…I’m very grateful.”
Sam lifted his hand to offer.
Castiel stared at it, then lowered his bag to the ground and took Sam’s hand in both of his own.
“Welcome home, Castiel. Make yourself comfortable, and rest. You’re safe here.”
The way the man’s sigh shuddered broke Sam’s heart completely.