Chuck F Shurley's Story

(Kevin locks himself outside XD)

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Dean stood there, looking down on his beaten and battered friend with the utmost sympathy, green eyes alight with too many emotions to register. Today he wouldn't say his usual snarky line about "Don't be such a wuss, you only almost died, no big deal." Or "Come on you big baby, need me to change your diaper too?" Because today, he could barely process having Castiel safe and there, let alone tease him as he normally would. He could barely process that Cas was now very fragile, very human. He was no longer Castiel; who used to be stars all bottled up in skin and bones, grace knitted veins, and a skeleton wired by mountains and meteor dust...He was Cas, a mortal man without a clue how to live as such, and this frightened the Hell out of Dean.

Dean attempted cracking a smile as Cas heaved himself off of the bed silently--the memory foam mattress aiding his quiet ascension but not giving him much support to push off of. His bandages stretched and pulled at bare skin when he moved, drawing Dean's eyes down to his chest for fear of tearing open newly healing wounds, but his gaze lingered for other unknown reasons...Dean's skin burned under Cas' touch as the ex angel braced himself on Dean's shoulder, it always did--even more so if he was touching the handprint scar he had seared into Dean's flesh the day he rose him up and out of Perdition. But it wasn't a painful or unpleasant sort of burn, but more like a prickling anticipatory sensation, hot skin flushing. Dean opened his mouth to say something, what he wasn't sure, but was quickly interrupted by the distressed rapping outside though it was not coming from their own bedroom door."Dean, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to excuse myself to the shower. It would appear you have a visitor. I won't keep you away from much longer." He cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing nervously under a layer of fine light stubble. "You going to be okay in there all by yourself?" He asked, genuinely concerned that Cas might slip and fall in the shower or pass out from the heat of the water. "Need me to come help?" He asked before realizing the implication behind his words and nearly choking on them. Luckily, Castiel didn't seem to be aware of his mistake. "Thank you Dean, Sincerely. You don't need to concern yourself with me at the moment. Worry more about Sam until he's fully healed. I assure you that I'm alright." He replied before tearing his gaze away from Dean's and trudging on to the bathroom.

Dean watched his retreat longingly, not sure he was ready to be out of Cas' presence so shortly after only having found it again. He wanted to tell his friend about how frantically he had searched for him--all the avenues he had tried, but if he was being completely honest with himself, it was probably for the best that he took a breather. Cas needed a deep clean and at the rate that Dean was rambling, he would probably screw the pooch on the whole secret keeping and confess everything that had transpired with Sam since Cas' fall. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea yet or not. So when Castiel softly closed the bathroom door behind him, Dean found himself marching out of his bedroom and down the hall to the work center.

"Dude, who even know's where we live?" He asked Sam as he passed, doubtful that his brother had even heard the knock with how out of it he had been as of late. "It's not like we gave our address out. 'Hey! Just moved in! If you aren't one of the bastards trying to kill us, drop on by for a house-er bunker warming party! There will be booze, pie, a fallen angel and a prophet!'" He sarcastically griped as he stalked up to the entrance before pulling out his pearl handled nickle-plated Colt 1911 A1 .45 caliber semi-automatic from his waistband yet again and aimed it at the door. How many times am I going to have to do this in a day? He idly wondered as he wrenched the big steel barricade open to reveal one rather confused looking Kevin Tran.

"Speaking of Prophets...." He said; Eyes rolling as he lowered his gun. "Dude. What the Hell? Weren't you supposed to be in your room studying a tablet or something? Go on a beer run without telling us?" He chastised, worry evident in his tone. "What if something would of happened to you, you idiot."

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