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Castiel wanted to check in on the Winchesters, maybe even show up in their motel room. Except that Castiel wasn’t sure what one was supposed to do on Christmas. Of course, Castiel was older than most of his Father’s Earth and had seen the birth of Père Noël and every other iteration of Santa Claus. Still, he was perplexed. Other families seemed to be celebrating grandly, even ostentatiously, while his humans did seemingly what they did every night. Dean had whiskey, Sam had beer, they sat down together, and they handed each other newspaper.
Newspaper?
It took Castiel a mere moment to figure it out. They were exchanging gifts. Castiel did not exactly feel like interrupting his charges, but the road was long ahead of him. Stopping Lucifer and the angels was a two-front war. He needed a break from the pressure on all sides. Just two minutes with the people whom he considered his friends, whom he left Heaven for, that would make the war possible to fight, the problems possible to solve.
However, Castiel had no idea what to get the boys. It seemed that dropping in unannounced while they exchanged presents without presents of his own would be rude. Dean often criticized him for forgoing human niceties, and Castiel assumed those would be unwelcome on a holiday.
That’s why Castiel found himself knocking at the motel door, grocery bag in hand, and his toes imperceptibly tapping inside his shoes. Nervousness did not become the earth-bound angel, and he almost left after waiting a moment. He heard the clicks of locks being removed and Sam was standing before him, Dean peering over from the couch.
"Cas, come on in," Dean didn’t bother getting up as he invited the angel in, but Castiel kept his eyes trained on him.
Castiel pulled the pie out of the grocery bag, and handed it to Dean. It took Dean a moment to realize the significance of the pie, that it was a Christmas gift.
The angel almost felt his face lit up by the gracious smile Dean offered him.
"Thanks, buddy." Dean’s warm hand rested on Castiel’s a moment before he took the pie from the angel’s hand. The hunter walked over to the counter of the motel room, getting out some forks from a take-out bag.
"Want to hang out for a bit, watch the game?" Castiel didn’t know what the game was, but he nodded his head anyways, glad to have a reprieve with the Winchesters.
Several hours later, Dean and Sam had fallen asleep on their beds while watching the game, which actually turned out to be a battle-like sport called American football. Castiel cleaned up a little, reluctant to leave without saying goodbye. He turned off the television, brushed a few crumbs off Dean’s mattress. Castiel contemplated tucking the tired hunter in for a moment, eventually deciding to do it, knowing that humans got cold.
After Castiel felt like he couldn’t do anything else, he settled down to watch the Winchesters sleep, hoping that he was really protecting them as best he could on their holiday. The contented smile on Dean’s face as he wormed around in the warm blankets told Castiel that he was doing his best, and he couldn’t help but smile in return at the sleeping man.