The Angel Seed

Heaven

Dean stood by the door again. The one he wanted to run away from, the one he didn't want to look in. The doorway that held the room where his dad laid in a bed, sick and dying. His eyes closed and his face still, he looked better off sleeping peacefully then for Dean to wake him up. He turned for the hall.

"Dean."

A voice so scratchy ripped into his ears. He wanted to ignore it, to walk down the hall like he didn't hear it but he turned. Dean turned to his waking faith in bed, his eyes slowly opening and his head turned to Dean. He held out his hand weakly for a sign of wanting comfort of his only son. Dean stared at his open hand. His dad smiled, a weak and miserable smile. "Dean." He chimed as he tried sitting up himself but only sitting up in the tiniest bit. Dean watched his father suffer in that bed, he didn't want to look any more. He turned his eyes down. "Come here. Dean." His father said, voice innocent and wanting. It only teared Dean even more as he clenched down on his jaw. Slowly he shuffled to his father's bed side. He dropped his head on his pillow looking up at his son like looking at a tall building, "You're grown." He smiled. "You're bigger than the last time I've seen you."

Dean kept his eyes averted from seeing his bed­sick father, pained to be in the same room hearing his voice. "Cain said that Ellen and Jo came by yesterday. Guess I missed them." He said still smiling, looking up to his son. "How are they? Ellen still making her house special apple­wine pie?" He stood quiet. His father's expression deepened, his smile fell and his voice dropped. "Dean?" He mumbled, "Dean, look at me." He couldn't look up. "Dean Winchester." He demanded. Dean struggled to pull his eyes to his father's, and when they did ­­ they burned. His father nodded, "Now, I know you don't like me here. You always hated hospital beds." He smiled lightly, "I don't like it either." He said, looking to Dean. "But whatever you have to say about it, say it now. Tomorrow's too late." He cleared his throat from a cough.

Dean clenched his jaw together, then he inhaled quickly through his mouth. Tears welling in his eyes, he covered his mouth with his hand and dropped it. "What am I suppose to say? 'The dad that was never there for me is dying, and I'm gonna throw a huge bash for it so every one could cry about it'­­?"

"Now you stop it."

Dean swayed his head.

"I was there for you­­."

"You were never there!" Dean muttered, "You were never there." He repeated, "You were never there when I needed you, you never were there to teach me anything, I taught myself. You were never there to show me what was wrong and what was right. You were... never there!"

His dad coughed.

"All these years you've been out and about and not once did you stop by the house, you never had dinner or breakfast with us. You never even sent a letter. Now that you need me to put you six feet under, you think I'm going to be there when they bury you under and there's nothing left to remember you but a tiny piece of stone with your name on it?"

His father stared.

"You want me to tell you how my life is going? I can tell you anything because you're already a dead man walking. For these past years, I've shown myself respect and dignity. I've made my own decisions with out having to have you there, I've put my blood and sweat in the house that you decided to leave, and I've fought to keep what land is mine. You wanna know what i've been doing? Raising a damned seedling for God's sake, and you won't even see the last of it. When they put you under, I hope you bring down the rest of the trouble with you." Dean started towards the door, "I'm done with you."

"Dean, wait." His father called.

Dean had the power to stop himself from leaving the doorway, but he didn't turn to his father.

He stared at Dean's back, "What is it's name? The seedling you're raising? What it is?" He asked softly.

Dean turned so ever slightly to his dad, he turned his head to look to his father, He inhaled softly, "Castiel." He mumbled, this time his voice wasn't anger or mean. It was soft and kind to the angel's name. "It's name is Castiel."

His father's face grew shock and confusion, but Dean didn't stay to hear the rest. Walking out of the building he returned home, coming into the door Castiel stood just feet from behind the door. Watching Dean, waiting for him. Dean glanced to him and took off his jacket looking to the hook.

"You didn't have to wait for me. I said I'd come back." He mumbled low as he hung up his jacket.

"I was worried."

"Worried?" Dean threw his arm around Castiel's shoulder, "Where are you getting these words from?"

"Joanne." They walked into the kitchen where Jo was cleaning off the table, and stood up to the words approaching. Dean looked up at Jo, pausing in his step as Castiel turned his head to Jo standing beside the table. She gave him a flicker of a smile, weighing her eyes to Dean. "Good afternoon. I was just cleaning up." She stated keeping her eyes adrift on the table.

He nodded, "Cas' learning the words you told him." Jo seemed to prop up, aware of the room's density. "I just taught him a few things. Certain emotions, human things."

"Like teaching him what a kiss is?" She turned pink for that one. She gulped. Castiel looked up at Dean, staring at the amused expression on his face.

She nodded, "I may have told him a bit more than the usual." She admitted.

Dean slowly took in the thought of Jo teaching Castiel human things, like children and more about the planets or about the birds. "I'm glad you're helping him understand." Dean said, but without a sense of smiling. Jo nodded, and glanced to Castiel who looked back down from Dean to her. For the hour, Dean stood in his room pacing back and forth. His actual room this time, the one where Castiel would abandon in the night only to over to the guest room and sleep in the same exact bed with him. He didn't find it weird, he just found it amusing how one creature could appear so human. Castiel looked into the room, and pushed the door open when he saw Dean in it. "Worried."

Dean stopped pacing, "What?"

"You're ­­ worried."

Dean sighed, "She needs to stop telling you things you don't need to know." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, I'm not worried."

"You're L...lying."

He glared. "What else did she teach you?"

Castiel shrugged.

"She even showed you how to shrug, didn't she?"

His eyes avoided Dean's, rolling his eyes.

Dean pressed his eyes. "Okay." He whispered to himself. "Alright," he clapped his hands together, "I'm worried, okay? I'm I'm worried about what's gonna happen to the town when my dad's out. I'm worried about keeping my part of the deal. I'm worried about hiding the number one thing people fear. I'm worried that once everything changes ­­ I won't be able to fix it."

Castiel held out his arms.

Dean put up his hand, "And stop with the hugging. Okay? I'm not mad at myself, I'm not mad. I'm worried, okay? Worried and mad are two completely different things so just ­­," he paused, "Stop."

Castiel still held out his arms.

Dean stared at them, "What? What do you want?"

He held out his arms, "Joanne says that worrying is ­­ another... thing for angry."

Dean stared into his arms, he swayed his head. "No, Cas. I'm sorry." He said sitting down on the bed, and Castiel followed.

"Cas, I'm not in the mood. Please just, leave me alone." He asked nicely, voice sincere and sorry.

"I'm angry." Castiel whispered.

Dean nodded, "I know."

"I'm angry, Dean. For you." He mumbled, "Angry because the... world, is mean to you."

He drew his eyebrows together, "Don't be mad at the world Cas, it gets worse if you are." Getting up, he moved for the door.

"You know that?" Dean turned his head to Castiel, watching his expression still. He turned his back to him, "Good night." He called, and left the room. Only to be woken by alert.