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Holding A Grudge

Summary:

Anonymous on Tumblr asked for an installment in the Problem 'verse in which Dean and Castiel find out about what happened in Oklahoma.

Notes:

I accept prompts here, on FF.net, and on my Tumblr.

Work Text:

Dean Winchester was a big fan of good company and good beer. In the months since the Apocalypse had come to a halt, he'd been finding that there was a lot more time to appreciate the simpler joys of life. Of course, this particular occasion was the result of Sam getting himself injured, which wasn't Dean's first choice by any means, but the younger Winchester had forced Dean and Castiel out the door of the motel room to go hang out. According to him, the two of them hadn't been spending as much time together, and since Sam needed to rest up, they might as well take the opportunity to hang out.

Dean would never have complained about Sam stealing his best friend, since that's not what had happened, but he had to admit that just hanging out with Castiel was refreshing. They really hadn't done much of that, and it was nice. He'd had to reassure Castiel about half a dozen times that Sam's sprained ankle and various new scars from their last hunt weren't going to kill him in the hour or so they'd be at the bar. Sam needed rest, not babysitting. He'd told them he'd be going to bed, and Dean didn't doubt that Sam was passed out already. The pain pills he was on had a habit of doing that.

"This is pleasant," Castiel said, echoing Dean's thoughts.

Dean held up his beer and tapped the neck against Castiel's. "To peace in our time," he joked.

Castiel mimicked the motion solemnly. "Agreed." He took a drink from the beer, not that it would inebriate him in any way, and asked again, "Do you think Sam is all right?"

Rolling his eyes, Dean had to suppress a chuckle. "Relax, Cas. He's had much worse. A few days rest and he'll be fine. There's some hauntings up North I was thinking we could take a look at, then maybe take a break to do something wild and crazy, like skiing." Dean hadn't ever tried skiing, but it seemed like the kind of thing Sam would enjoy, and it was hilarious to watch Castiel try new things. They'd found more new opportunities in the past few months of places to visit or things to do, and both Winchesters were enjoying it. Castiel had made a point of saying that whatever made Sam smile was a worthwhile activity, so he was with them more often than not. After Dean had finished pretending to throw up a little, he had to admit that he was happy for them. 

"Well looky what we have here!" A voice boomed out, breaking Dean's reverie. "Dean Winchester, as I live and breathe."

Dean sat up, racking his brain for a split second before the name came to him. "Tim Janklow!" He laughed. "Damn, I haven't seen you in years. What have you been up to?"

Tim was rough looking, but what hunter wasn't? The larger black man trailing behind him looked familiar, and Dean remembered after a moment that his name was Reggie Hull. "Well, we were gearing up for some Apocalypse sized trouble, then apparently that all got fixed and nobody bothered to tell the rest of us."

Dean shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to handle the topic. He glanced up and realized Castiel was looking moderately puzzled, so he jumped on the obvious way to change the subject. "Oh, Cas, sorry, this is Tim Janklow and Reggie Hull, friends of my dad's. Wait, wasn't Steve Bose normally with you guys? Where's he?"

Tim and Reggie scowled in unison. "Dead," Tim spat. "Demon in Oklahoma, going on a year ago now."

"Damn, I'm sorry, man," Dean offered, knowing exactly how much it hurt to lose a friend to the hunt.

There was an uncomfortable pause, then Tim changed the subject back to his original probing question. "So, you know anything about the Apocalypse that wasn't?" He asked, his tone hinting he was expecting an answer.

Dean huffed in exasperation. "It's over, ain't it? Why's it matter how it was stopped?"

"What, did you save the world?" Tim scoffed, his tone getting decidedly less friendly. "Cause I gotta say, I was expecting to hear you'd found an early grave after you teamed back up with the oversized Anti-Christ."

Dean froze, straightening in his seat and glaring at Tim. "Excuse me?"

"Your brother's the reason Steve's dead and there was a damn Apocalypse in the first place," Tim hissed. "How do you justify the fact that you didn't end him?"

Before Dean could even react, Castiel was on his feet and in Tim's face, a storm cloud of epic intensity in his expression. "Watch yourself, hunter," Castiel warned, his tone darker and more threatening than Dean had ever heard. "You should not speak of what you do not know."

Tim jerked himself away from the angel, still fuming. "Look, Dean, we always seemed to be more or less on the same page, and I know you and Steve got on fine, so explain to me why you're letting Hell's demon blood jacked-up bitch run around free."

This time it was Dean on his feet, one hand fisted in Tim's jacket and the other poised to reach for his gun, a warning glare given to Reggie should the other hunter try to interfere. "I don't know what the hell you think you know about my brother," Dean seethed, "but that kid saved the damn world, okay? You don't know him, you don't know me, and you sure as hell don't get to be his judge and jury. As far as I'm concerned, Sam has more than made up for any mistakes, and he's the reason you're not living on a doomed world anymore, so lay the hell off. If I ever hear so much as a peep about you threatening him, you're dead men. I don't care if you're human."

Tim was breathing hard and looked like he was building up to a rebuttal, but when Reggie's hand gripped his shoulder, he snapped out of it and turned to leave. "Fine, but don't come crying when you all end up dead because of that bastard."

Dean grabbed his jacket and jerked on Castiel's sleeve. "C'mon, let's go. They're probably leaving town, but I'm not leaving Sam alone, not when those kind of assholes are nearby."

"I concur. Do we have to drive or will you allow me to transport us?" Castiel asked, urgency in his voice.

"Wings are good, just bring my baby with us," Dean compromised.

In the blink of an eye, they were standing in the motel room, and a quick glance out the window confirmed that the Impala was parked out front.

"You're back kind of early." Sam's voice was relaxed, but a glance at his propped up position and the book in his hands indicated he had been reading, not sleeping.

Dean wasn't entirely sure he was glad Sam was awake, but this didn't feel like a conversation either of them were going to enjoy, thankfully, Castiel saved him from having to initiate it.

"We encountered an element at the bar that concerned us, so Dean and I decided it would be wise for us to all stay together," Castiel explained.

Sam sat up, alert now. He sat his book aside and adjusted his position, careful not to jostle his injured ankle too much. "Why? What happened?"

Dean scowled. "Ran into Tim Janklow and Reggie Hull." As soon as he spoke, Sam went deathly pale, and after a beat Dean realized his brother was holding his breath.

Castiel moved quickly to Sam's side, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting a hand along Sam's back. "Breathe, Sam," he said gently.

Sam relaxed marginally, looking up at Dean with wary eyes. "What happened?" He repeated.

"They were assholes is what happened," Dean answered, shrugging. "They seem to have some kind of major beef with you though, which was news to me. I mean, we haven't even seen them since we were kids, so I don't know -"

"Last year," Sam corrected, interrupting his brother in a defeated tone. He found himself leaning into Castiel without realizing it, thankful for the support. "I ran into them when we were apart. The first time," he clarified after a moment's thought.

"When you were in Oklahoma?" Dean asked, surprised. "What happened then? Why didn't you say something?"

Sam winced, like it wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. "I recognized the signs of demonic activity in the town where I was hiding out, so I called Bobby since I wasn't hunting. He sent Tim, Reggie, and Steve. Steve was killed, and the demon they captured told them what I'd done."

Dean froze. "What did they do to you, Sam? Why didn't you tell me?"

"They came back to the bar later, and Tim used one of my co-workers as leverage to get me to admit to it. They tried to give me demon blood, so they could use me as a weapon to get revenge for Steve. I spat it out and managed to free Lindsey - that was my co-worker - and get us out of there." Sam sighed, not enjoying the trip down memory lane.

Dean swore a blue streak and kicked at the other bed in frustration. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"

Sam hesitated. "That's the night Lucifer visited for the first time," he admitted.

Castiel rested an arm around Sam, pulling him into a side hug. "All of that is in the past now," the angel said firmly. "Thanks to you, Sam, Lucifer is back in the cage. The world is safe, and the opinions of these small hunters are irrelevant. Their friend's death was regrettable, but not your fault. If they choose to debate me on this fact, they will not survive much longer."

Sam smiled and huffed a laugh at Castiel's intensity. "Thanks, Cas," he murmured.

Dean sat down on the other bed, opposite Sam, and shook his head. "Okay, I get that that wasn't really a good time for us, but for future reference, if you get attacked by anyone for any reason, I want to know about it."

Sam's lips twitched. "Duly noted."

Dean stood again and pulled out his cell phone. "Does Bobby now?"

Sam hesitated. "...yes," he admitted reluctantly.

Dean huffed at that, irritated at being left out of the loop, then headed for the door. "All right, well I'm going to go update him then. I'm not having those two walking around babbling propaganda about you because they need a scapegoat for Steve's death. This whole thing ends now." He walked outside the motel room and shut the door behind him, already dialing.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys," Sam told Castiel, relaxing and adjusting his position again so he was nearly lounging again, urging Castiel to sit next to him up against the headboard.

"I understand, Sam," Castiel assured him. "I trust you will tell me if you are ever accosted in such a manner again."

"Of course," Sam promised. He took a deep breath, reveling in the realization that the final secret of the Apocalypse was no longer his burden. He hadn't even realized how much it had been bothering him until Dean had confronted him, but having that memory shared by the two people to whom he was closest made a world of difference.

"I believe Dean is considering taking us all skiing," Castiel added conversationally. "I am unsure if that is a secret, so you may have to pretend to be surprised."

Sam laughed, pleased with the suggestion. "That'll be fun. He must be looking at those hauntings up North we were reading about. I'm sure my ankle will be better by then. Do you like snow?"

"I am not sure I've ever truly formed an opinion," Castiel admitted.

"Don't worry," Sam assured him. "I'll teach you all about how to have fun in the snow."

Castiel smiled softly and pressed a kiss to Sam's forehead. "I'm sure you will. Get some rest, Sam. I will watch over you." 

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