inonebasket | (no subject)

Of all the things Dean had expected to shout at the Leviathan, that hadn't been it. Yeah. Well. It's been said now, and angry as he is, Castiel's still family. Even at the worst he'd been hoping Cas would come to his senses, and it's just unfair that the moment Cas did the Leviathans walked him into a damn reservoir.

It's also a little unfair that Dean's blaming Cas for that, too, but it is what it is.

Dean grunts, already wiping the muck off his machete. "Course I do. Why, you want a ride? Not gonna use your mojo to just fly away?"

"No." Castiel doesn't elaborate because Castiel just doesn't elaborate.

He knows Dean wants to talk and Castiel doesn't feel like walking when the Leviathan could easily catch up to him after pulling its head back onto its shoulders, so he flicks the safety onto his shotgun, retrieves the knife from the door as he passes and heads out to the side of the Impala.

...actually, he isn't sure if he's allowed in the front seat or if he has to sit in the back. It seemed like the front seat was usually reserved for people Dean liked, so Cas shifted on his feet awkwardly, feeling too different in his jeans and shirt and army surplus jacket, gun cradled in his arm, knife strapped around his leg.

Flying blind. That was the phrase.

Dean does want to talk except for the part where he really doesn't because he doesn't know what to say. He's bad at talking, especially about things like feelings. Crap.

He gives the body a good kick on his way out, just to turn it around and slow it down a little further (he's got no idea if it'll work but that isn't stopping him from trying.). Outside, he yanks the back of the Impala open, stowing his machete and gesturing for Castiel to do the same to his arsenal. Lucky for Cas, Dean's not so unobservant that he doesn't see the fidgeting--and since when does Castiel fidget?

"You gonna get in or not?" Dean slides into the driver's seat, stretching across the seats to shove the passenger side door open.

Since a few months ago. Woodenly following Dean's lead, Cas rests the shotgun on the backseat and climbs in next to Dean. He closes the door and leans against it, as if trying to keep as far away from Dean as possible.

Once again Castiel remembers how much he hates that Dean can make him feel so unsure of himself. That floundering, pathetic tumble as he slips off of his chosen path, careening through uncharted waters like a torpedo without a target. He'd been satisfied, just concentrating on hunting Leviathan. He had his reasons, his wonderfully simplistic reasons, and then Dean had to show up and complicate everything straight to Hell and back again. The bastard.

Castiel looks out the window. He wonders if he should apologize. It seems like the acceptable thing to do. "...Dean, I'm-"

"Can it, Cas, I don't wanna hear your excuses."

He doesn't.

Dean peels out of the driveway in a spray of gravel, heading for the nearest highway. He has no real destination in mind. The original plan had been to head back to Bobby's, regroup, get some info and try to find and stop or slow down another few Leviathans. The original plan, sadly, didn't include Cas, which means Dean gets to take a detour, because like hell he's taking Cas back to Bobby and Sam. Dean wants to deal with Cas first.

"So you came back finally. Y'know, I was starting to think you'd just tucked tail and run, finally figured you'd done something so bad we weren't gonna forgive you. And don't get me wrong, Cas, you screwed up. In a big way. And I am pissed as hell that you didn't even think to ask us for help. Where the hell have you been, anyway? Living the good life up in heaven, huh? You get bored of paradise?"

He sounds a little bitter. He is a little bitter. He's spent half his time hunting Leviathans and half his time having nightmares about Castiel walking into the reservoir. The damn trenchcoat is still tucked under the backseat.

Castiel lets Dean's anger soak into him like rain, like hot shower water because he deserves it and he thinks he might be happy to have it. Dean's anger is a sign that he cared, once upon a time, a sign that he hasn't lost the will to fight and if anything at all Castiel is glad that Dean found it again. Whoever gave it back to him -Sam, Bobby, someone Castiel didn't even know- whoever it was, to them Castiel is eternally grateful.

"You once told me you didn't care about the bigger picture. You only wanted to save a pair of wayward orphans." Castiel touches the hilt of the knife at his thigh, adjusts the strap around his jeans. "I thought that would be a good place to start."

It was alarming, how often Castiel was beginning to look to Dean's words instead of the word of the Holy Father, but with no more Grace to preserve and probably no soul to be damned, Castiel thought it was all right for him to abandon God as his god. Dean's words always struck a deeper chord in him anyway. And well, with his perception narrowed and his ability to protect severely diminished, Castiel was beginning to understand why Dean never seemed to grasp the bigger picture as he had.

Two wayward orphans sometimes could mean more to a person than the entire world, in certain circumstances.

Dean spends a lot of time angry lately. Okay, yes, he's spent a lot of his life in general angry, but lately it's bothering him more. Go figure.

"Oh for--Orphans, Cas? You bring up the damn orphans?" Hello, sore point.

Sure, Castiel probably means to imply that even the worst decisions come from a point of goodness, but this is Dean. He's good at missing the point, so all he sees is the old "good job, Dean, you screwed that one up" barb.

Figures the parallels would fly right over Dean's head, along with everything Cas had been trying to say. At least that hadn't changed. Joy.

Castiel doesn't have it in him to explain, so he moves on.

"I've been attempting to track the Leviathan as they move. I knew they'd been focusing on you and Sam specifically when I saw the bank robbery footage." Actually Cas had known before that, had just felt it in his gut and his...something, but that had cinched it. It was what had pushed him into really moving, rather than just drifting and surviving.

"You didn't seem too interested in dragging your ass out of heaven before. What changed your mind this time?"

No, Dean hasn't figured it out. Yes, Cas is acting weird, yes, he was using weapons instead of angel mojo, but it's not the first time Cas has done that, and y'know what, it's not entirely unreasonable to think that he tapped himself out trying to hold the Leviathan's back.

God damn it Dean, stop gnawing on that bone. Cas doesn't want to talk about himself.

"I haven't been in heaven."

No. Dean likes gnawing on bones.

His second guess is a little more hesitant. "...Hell?"

"If I was, I don't remember it." He would have deserved it, he thinks, and for longer than the month he'd been out of commission.

Edited 2011-11-20 07:13 (UTC)

"Yeah. Well." Dean clears his throat, adjusting his grip on the wheel and driving just a little bit faster. "I don't remember much of hell. For the record."

Why are you talking about this, Dean.

"I don't think I was in Hell, Dean. I think I was just gone." Un-existing, as it were.

Because he needs to talk about something. Yes, this is a terrible something to be talking about, but he needs to...talk.

"Gone. So why are you back? Are you looking for forgiveness? Is that it?" Very bitter. Very...hurt.

"No," because it's true, because it hurts to hear but it looks like it hurts Dean even more to ask it. "I want to at least see two wayward orphans safe before I do anything else."

"Cas, the orphans are safe. Or they were until they got slaughtered. So unless you wanna go back in time and stop me from taking them out of the town in the first place, you're out of luck."

Seriously, Castiel, Dean is too obtuse for your subtlety.

Castiel stares at Dean in that vaguely uncomfortable, soul-searching way before looking back out the window at the scenery flashing by. "My first order of business is to either kill or banish the Leviathan. I haven't planned much beyond that."

"You might lose heaven in the meantime; Balthazar seemed pretty interested. Sure you're okay with that?"

Balthazar.

"Heaven no longer has a place for me. My only concern is here." 'Here' being any number of things. Hunting the Leviathan as a form of atonement, sure, but also to try and keep Dean and Sam safe in his own meager way.

Very meager. The only thing they've seen so far that could take out a Leviathan permanently came from down below. It stands to reason that angels could take Leviathans out, too, with effort, but so far, neither side seems interested in lending a helping hand.

Well, whatever. Dean's not in a position to be picky about allies.

"Sam and Bobby are gonna be pretty damn pissed at you."

Castiel feels his mouth go dry, marvels at it for just a second, hates it after that and tries to form words around it that don't sound pathetic. He's not sure if he succeeds. "...I was hoping you would let me go after our discussion."

"No way."

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel now.

"You gotta own up to what you did. Face the music. You made your bed, you gotta lie in it." Wait. "Don't you dare fly away this time. Sorry's not gonna cut it if you do."

"I'm trying to take responsibility, Dean." Castiel snaps before he can stop himself, and his hands clench tightly atop his knees. Guilt so easily transforms into anger, into something ugly and defensive and that isn't what Castiel wants but even now, even in his most humiliating moments there's still that damning pride hanging on, stubbornly.

After a moment, more calmly: "There's no need to trouble Bobby and Sam with this. Just say what you need to and send me away."

"What I need to say? Cas, you almost brought the end of the world on our heads for the second time--maybe you did! With these damn Leviathan things, I don't know. There is so much I want to say it'd take weeks to get it all out!"

Lots of it is very angry. An equally significant portion of it is just kind of wounded and betrayed. Still.

Well, maybe he'll just start with the most important thing.

"Where have you been? Cas, if you were back, why didn't you come find me?"