Freedom of Fate ~ Castielxreader

16- Ages 18 and Up

A few hours of restless sleep granted you with a pounding migraine. Pulling yourself out of bed you fumbled through your pockets for the prescription the doctor gave you. You made a mental note to pick up the Rizatriptan later then headed out to find the others. Castiel and Dean were in the library watching a movie on Dean's laptop, something Western based on the gunshots and cowboy lingo. Cas' eyes were vacant with disinterest but continued to watch loyally until he noticed you enter the room at which point his expression lit up with delight and he waved you over. He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your torso, nuzzling his face into your back. Dean groaned, pausing the film as it lost Castiel's attention. Cas asked how you were feeling and you replied with 'better,' then mentioned the prescription you had to go pick up. 

'I'll take you,' Dean offered, 'we need to get groceries too'.

'How's Sam?' you asked, leaning back into Cas who answered you.

'Sleeping in. I healed him so don't worry'. You realised you needed him to fix you up too, but he must've seen the look of remembering on your face because he said, 'I healed your head injury after you fell asleep, you don't have to worry about it anymore either,' and you settled back into his embrace. Saying his name must've summoned him to the room because Sammy groggily stumbled into the library, his hair wildly disheveled and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He gave the three of you a gruff 'good morning' as he shuffled through the room. You watched as he left to the kitchen at which point Dean jumped up and chased you out of the bunker, speaking too loudly and aggravating your headache. When he noticed you massaging your temples with closed eyes he lowered his voice and even the music that he had put on. He was unusually chatty on the drive, while he walked you to the pharmacist and as you strolled around the supermarket. 

'Remember that casserole you made for Thanksgiving?' he casually asked, picking up a packet of grated cheese. You nodded, approaching him with the shopping trolley so he could chuck it in, 'from like 2 years ago?' you replied. 'Yeah. Can you make it again? I'll help,' he flashed you his sweetest puppy eyes, a ploy you had become immune to over the years, though you agreed complacently and together you hunted down the ingredients you needed. When you asked why he suddenly wanted your cooking he said, 'you used to cook loads. I miss your food,' with a wide grin. 

Dean dumped the grocery bags into the back of the Impala, leaving the door open for you to drop your bags too. You leaned in, shoving the bags up the seats, when you noticed the toy car from the arcade on the floor. The box was crushed, probably by Sam when Dean threw him into the car, and there were a few smears of blood on it too. You picked it up and took it with you to the front seat. Grieving the unfortunate turn of events of an otherwise fun family night out you fell silent again, the car's symbolic nature solidifying your intent to leave. Dean picked up on your depressed mood and took the toy from you. 'That's where it was!' he said joyously, rotating it as he inspected the dents, 'I was gonna take it out of the box anyway,' he tucked it into his jacket pocket and smiled at you, thanking you again for getting it for him then starting the drive back home. 

Cas called out to you when he heard the heavy slam of the door and you joined him and Sam in the kitchen. With a kiss on the lips he started doting on you, taking the shopping bags from you, pouring you a cup of coffee, asking what you wanted for breakfast and leaving a kiss on your cheek every time he passed you. It was an embarrassing form of affection but you lavished in it. He was your inclination to stay and because of this you were conflicted. Ideally you would distance yourself from him, the brothers too, but you wanted to enjoy the time you had together, not abandon them with bitterness and resentment after you ran away. 

'You guys up for Family Game Night?' Sam said, peering into the fridge and assessing what you bought, confused by the assortment of fresh ingredients rather than instant meals.