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1)
The first thing Sam noticed was subtle. Nothing big.
He and Dean were on a hunt. They slashed the heads of a couple vamps, then came across something neither them or Bobby could identify right away. Of course, they called Cas in to help them.
Cas did all he could, conferring with Bobby over the phone, and they found the name of the thing. Sam immediately got out his computer, searching for lore on the creature, as Cas got up to leave. He gave his usual speech on ‘heavenly duties’ or how he was ‘fighting a war’, and Sam, as usual, wished him good luck, more focused on the task at hand.
“Yeah, about that… Um, how’s that going? You’re okay?”
Sam looked up as he heard Dean speak, and the look of genuine, open concern on his brother's face almost knocked the wind out of him. He watched as Cas reached and placed a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I will be. I’ll stay in one piece. Promise.” Then the angel was gone.
“What was that?” Sam had asked, still staring at his brother.
Dean got up and started packing his gear, filling shells with salt and sharpening his knives, just in case. “What was what?” He countered, giving Sam a weird look. “I just asked the guy if he was okay. He’s got a war on his hands, Sam.”
Putting his hands up in defeat, Sam sighed. “Okay. Yeah, no, makes sense.”
Dean didn’t bring it up again. So, Sam didn’t either.
2)
A couple months later, Sam got another puzzle piece.
This time, they’d hunted something like a shapeshifter, though the lore and it’s powers were a little different. It turned into whatever it’s victims feared, cycling through their worst fears and using those to render them powerless until it could kill them. Each person saw something different when looking at it. Sam saw harrowing things: Dean on fire, back in hell; Bobby’s death; Jess, then his mom, burning on the ceiling.
He didn’t tell Dean what he saw. Dean didn’t tell, either, but Sam could tell they had to have been pretty heavy. Dean hadn’t slept in the 4 days they spent hunting the thing, opting instead to sit in the corner with a beer, then an energy drink, watching the sun set, then rise. As soon as they’d ganked the damn thing, Sam was more than relieved to see Dean fall asleep so quickly back at the motel. He himself passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
He woke up a couple hours later to Dean’s voice. It was still dark out, the moonlight barely illuminating the room. As Sam listened, his eyes still closed, he realized Dean was having a nightmare.
He finally made out what Dean was saying, and it left him more confused than before. His brother was calling out for Cas.
Sam opened his eyes, debating waking Dean from his nightmare, but he saw another figure. Cas.
Cas was sitting on Dean’s bed, rubbing his back and combing through his hair gently. He was whispering in response to Dean’s wails, a comforting stream of words that Sam recognized as Enochian. He couldn’t understand most of the words, but a couple that he’d heard before jumped out at him. ‘Here,’ ‘safe,’ ‘protected,’ and … ‘love’?
It worked. Dean quieted, his wails becoming whimpers before dispersing completely. Cas stayed long after Dean had quieted, holding Dean’s head in his lap, running gentle fingers through his hair, rubbing his shoulder. Sam decided, as he watched Dean curl his entire body toward Cas, that his brother deserved the comfort. So he went back to sleep.
3)
After a simple vampire hunt, Sam and Dean met up with Cas at a local diner, discussing how they could help Cas with his celestial war. Sam left the table and headed to the bar, asking for three beers (one for himself, two for Dean. Cas didn’t really like beer, too much for his angel tastebuds). He sat at one of the barstools, watching a football game on a nearby screen as he waited.
“Third wheeling for your buddy over there?”
Sam looked up at the bartender. “What?” He asked.
The bartender shrugged, turning back to making drinks. “Hey, no judgement from me. It looks like you’re quite the wingman.”
With a weird look, Sam turned around to find out what he was talking about. He was greeted with the sight of Cas and Dean, across from each other in the booth they were sharing. Dean was giving– no, feeding Cas a fry dipped in milkshake. Cas ate the fry, giving Dean an approving grin. He said something Sam couldn’t hear, and Dean laughed, waving him forward and gently holding his face. He wiped a bit of shake from Cas’ lip, and smiled.
“Huh.” Sam blinked, looking back as the bartender placed the three beers in front of him. “I guess I am a wingman.” He brought out his wallet, threw a quietly surprised look at Cas and Dean, then handed the bartender the money, plus some tip. “Thank you.”
4)
Another month passed, and they didn’t see Cas. Then two months. Three. Four.
Half a year passed with no word from Cas. Before he’d basically vanished, he’d told Sam and Dean that the war was getting difficult. That he might be hard to contact for a little bit. They didn’t know that ‘a little bit’ would be six months.
Sam had found out that Dean prayed every night, and almost every spare moment, to Cas. He only prayed out loud once, when he didn’t know Sam was listening, and Sam left immediately. He felt like he was reading someone's text messages to a room full of strangers.
They spent some time in between hunts at Bobby’s place. Sam had watched Dean sit down in the study, burying his head in his hands and groaning. He shook his head at Bobby, who looked like he was about to ask what was wrong.
He could tell when Dean started praying, rather than moping. He seemed to shrink on himself, shoulders tensing, drawing his legs in. He intertwined his fingers, even as they continued to hold his head up.
Then Sam heard the tell tale ‘woosh’. And he whipped his head across the room to find Cas.
The angel was beaten. Sam could see bruises along his arms, through the now tattered trench coat, and his shirt had a little blood near the bottom that still looked fresh. He was pretty sure Cas was bleeding from his lip, too, and a bit from his nose. But before all of this even went through his head, Sam watched Dean fly across the room in under a second, grabbing Cass immediately and pushing their lips together. Cas kissed back, arms circling Dean’s waist as Dean’s hands reached up to caress his face.
That final puzzle piece clicked into place, and Sam stood, ushering a slowly understanding Bobby out of the room.
5)
The last piece wasn’t a surprise to anyone.
Life returned to normal– normal for a hunter, anyway. They kept traveling. They asked Bobby for help identifying monsters and their weaknesses. Called on Cas when they needed him.
The only difference was the simple silver band that appeared on Cas’ hand a couple months after he got back. Then, the identical band that Dean was suddenly wearing.
They never mentioned it, any of them– Sam, Cas, Dean, Bobby. They kept their mouths shut.
But Sam watched them with a fond smile on his face, as Dean would walk over and hug Cas from behind in the mornings. As Cas would continue murmuring comfortingly to Dean during nightmares, from the bed the two now shared. As they would lean into each other during movie nights, whispering and giggling, but letting Sam lay on their laps and fall asleep halfway through the movie.
If anyone so much as made an off handedly rude comment about them, Sam hunted them down himself.
He was just happy his brother had finally sorted out his feelings. Dean was finally happy.
That was enough.