And i will walk on water

Chapter three

Dean didn't tell Sam he'd more or less invited Castiel to hunt with them because that was one argument he preferred to put off for as long as possible. He figured he could mention it casually after Castiel showed up at some point and did something badass, while they were high on a job well done. Castiel didn't show up to do anything badass at any point during their next three hunts, though. He didn't show up at all, and now Dean had to wince in sympathy as he reset Sam's dislocated shoulder and his little brother grunted in pain through the washcloth he was biting down on.

"Sorry, Sammy," he said lightly. "It's what you get for letting a girl beat you up, though."

Sam took the washcloth out of his mouth and he was still white with pain around the red and purple cuts and bruises, but he managed a decent bitchface anyway. "That was so not a girl, Dean."

Dean smiled blandly. "Minor detail. Now you sit tight like a good invalid while I go buy you some painkillers."

"I'm not--" Sam protested, but Dean gave him a wave over his shoulder and was out the door.

"Cas," Dean called as soon as he was in the car, half irritated because Sam wouldn't be in pain right now if Castiel had shown up like he'd agreed to and half concerned because another week had passed since Dean last seen him and what if demons or angels or something else had happened to him? He'd thought that by asking Castiel to stick around, he wouldn't have to worry about the stupid angel anymore, but apparently that wasn't the case and that irritated Dean in and of itself. "What is it with you never being around?" he asked, and because that came out sounding far more fretful than he'd intended, he added a little gruffly, "You owe me some painkillers."

Castiel materialized in the passenger seat before Dean even got a chance to start the engine, and he had a bottle of painkillers in one hand. Dean looked at it in surprise and pulled the key out of the ignition, distracted from whatever relief he was feeling. "You didn't really have to bring painkillers, you know," he said. "I was gonna go buy them myself."

"You asked for them," Castiel said simply as he handed them to Dean, as if that was a good enough reason for him to do anything.

Inexplicably, it made Dean uncomfortable, but he filed it away for later. "I was kidding, Cas," he said, though he took the painkillers anyway. "But, uhm, thanks. Where have you been, anyway? I thought you were gonna help us with our demon infestation problem."

"You've been avoiding the subject with Sam," said Castiel, who was apparently quite observant. "I thought my presence might cause problems."

And Dean supposed that kind of self-pity crap was sort of sad, but mostly, it was just beginning to get on his nerves. No matter what had gone down, Castiel was a goddamned angel, not an emo high school girl, for Christ's sake, and Dean had tried to be patient and understanding about it for awhile, but now it was getting old and he was no longer in the mood to humor him. At least Castiel hadn't started crying yet, though, which was more than Dean could say for himself. If he had little patience for Castiel's woe-is-me act, then he had even less for his own, and those were memories that never failed to embarrass and annoy him. Still, if he could get over it, then so could Castiel, and now Dean said in a possibly-snide tone, "Which problem do you think Sam would have preferred, getting tossed out of a second storey window by a hell-bitch or having you around and, oh, not getting tossed out of a second storey window by a hell-bitch?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed, and Dean knew it wasn't his fault that Sam had gotten hurt, but Castiel said nothing to defend himself and Dean blew out a slow breath as he let the issue drop. "You never answered my question, what've you been up to?" he asked after awhile, voice light and trying to ease the tension.