Title: Tell Me How You Really Feel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: G
Length: 452
Content Notes: a bit of schmoop, a touch of pre-slash

Summary: Another case done and Team Free Will is onto the next town. While Sam naps in the backseat, Dean and Castiel have a little chat.


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Castiel relaxed back against the seat, head tilted as he stared out at the window and watched the world whip by.

Dean sat beside him, one hand on the wheel and the other resting in his lap, fingers curled around the top of his thigh, blunt nails scratching at the faded denim. Sam lay scrunched in the back seat, head pillowed on a combination of a jacket and his arm, shoulders curled and legs hanging off the bench into the footwell below. His snores were light, nearly masked by the low music flowing out of the speakers.

Green grass shuddered as they passed, dancing and twisting in their wake.

An elbow nudged Castiel, warm and insistent, impossible to ignore. "Thinking hard or hardly thinking?" Dean asked, flipping down the visor as he turned the car west, into the setting sun.

Castiel turned to stare at Dean. Dean stared at the road ahead.

"I like your car," Castiel said.

Dean's eyebrows pulled together, bemused, but he laughed all the same, mouth curling into a bright smile as orangey-red light filled the interior.

Castiel watched, curious. "You disagree?" he asked.

"Hell no!" Dean replied, still chuckling. "Just… not what I was expecting you to say."

"It's slow," Castiel said, and Dean's smile disappeared as quick as it appeared. "Small. Archaic. Dinged and nicked and-"

"Dude," Dean warned.

"It smells heavily of body odor," Castiel said.

"That's Sam's fault," Dean said, frowning.

"But for all its flaws, for all its cons, it's home. More so than any I've ever known," Castiel admitted. Dean glanced at Castiel from the corner of his eye, surprised, thoughtful. "It's reliable, dependable, steadfast and unwavering," Castiel continued, gaze moving about the cabin. He settled on Dean's fingers, watched the way they tightened around the wheel, watched the way his jaw ticked as Castiel talked, day old stubble casting the barest of shadows across his cheek. "Perhaps it’s a little rough around the edges, seen one too many battles," Castiel said, words soft. "But there is great strength here, determination and resilience. There is compassion and comfort. Love."

Castiel touched the leather seat, felt the barely-there imperfections, saw a lifetime of memories, good and bad, flash by as quick as the scenery outside. "It has come to represent everything I adore about this world."

Dean's lips parted, knuckles turned nearly white. He swallowed, throat clicking softly. "Yeah," he said after a moment, sun dipping behind the tree line, revealing the rosy tinge coloring Dean's cheeks. "She's pretty great."

Castiel nodded. "Still slow, though," Castiel added, returning his gaze to the world beyond the windows.

Dean sighed. "Had to ruin the moment."

Castiel rubbed his fingers across his mouth, hiding his smile.

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End.