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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?"

Oh gosh, Dean. That part is the simplest thing to understand. Cas would've gotten it even as an angel, why don't you? "If our positions were reversed, would you look for me?"

The last thing in the world Castiel had wanted to see was that expression on Dean's face, and the last thing he wanted to hear was the anger and hurt in his voice. As long as he knew Dean and Sam were alive, that was enough for him. More than enough, and more than he deserved, really. Dean thinking Castiel was dead- it had been apt, and it was something Castiel was sure Dean could come to terms with.

Edited 2011-11-20 18:26 (UTC)

....Right. Dean clears his throat again, for no real reason. "Yeah. Okay. I guess not."

Those are as many feelings as Dean can manage for now, so he just keeps driving in silence. Unfortunately for Cas, they're really in the middle of nowhere, so there isn't even a gas station for Dean to stop at. They're trapped in the car together for the moment and Dean hasn't even seen fit to turn on the radio. Uncomfortable silences all the way!

So it's up to Cas to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I hadn't thought you would want to see me again after what I did to Sam."

...by saying something to make things even more uncomfortable. Well, that is his usual MO.

Wow, Cas is really good at that, isn't he. It's like some kind of bizarre angel talent. Or maybe they read it in Angel Cosmo. How to piss off your humans in 10 easy steps!

"Damn right I didn't!"

No. Dean. Keep it together. Do not snap at Cas while doing 90 down a rural highway. Bad plan.

"You almost killed him--you almost killed all of us! You might have, if these Leviathan things have their way. Dammit, Cas." He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "I wish you'd asked. Even if I couldn't have done anything, I'd have tried. Not like I haven't faced bad odds before, y'know?"

In retrospect, Cas knows how horribly he'd always explained himself. It was almost a thing lost in translation; moving from Grace and Enochian to a human mouth, through English language, it was as if everything he needed to get across fell to the wayside and left him speaking the bare bones. 'I did it for you' contains so much more meaning in Enochian, in Heaven, than it did here on Earth.

Words are so insufficient sometimes, but they're all Cas has now. "It's in the past. My reasons, your reasons. We should leave them there." It's too much to explain and it feels as if it would hurt coming out. Cas doesn't want to lay himself raw and open for anyone, not even Dean.

Dean would really like to rub his face, but again. 90 on a rural highway. Might be a bad plan. What is also a bad plan is attempting to get Cas to actually spill his guts. He's been trying to get that to happen for...how long now?

"Fine. Fine, whatever. Leave it in the past. Yeah, Cas, because you're so good at leaving the past alone." Dean, stop sniping. He takes another deep breath. This time it almost helps. "Look. Pissed as I am--and I'm pissed, don't get me wrong--I'm...well. We all figured maybe you'd finally bit it. Considering."

"I had. 'Bit it.'" Castiel looks out the window. The headlights of the Impala catch short scrubs and throw huge shadows behind them that melt into the darkness of night. "I felt my Grace leave me. My wings are scorched into the lake bed."

"Wha--" Thank god for Dean's driving control. He turns his head to stare or glare or something at Cas, remembers he's speeding and snaps his eyes back to the road in front of him. At least he's slowed down a little. "Cas, I've seen angels bite the dust before and I know as well as anyone that once they leave that feathery shadow behind, there's no coming back. So why are you back?"

Another thought occurs to him.

"And why are you in Jimmy's body if you're not using it anymore?"

"I don't know."

That also hurts to admit, though not as much as the other things he'd refused to tell. Castiel places a palm flat on his chest, as if he could feel Jimmy's soul inside of him, but there's nothing. No echo, no whisper.

Castiel's voice is low, a whisper. "I think I may have killed him with what I did." The admission sounds more ragged than it would have when he'd been an angel.

That's it. Dean pulls over, stopping the car.

"Cas just. Just tell me one thing, okay? Did you know--did you have any idea--just how bad that deal could go?"

Of course he had.

A being doesn't live to be over four hundred million years old and not be able to perceive possible outcomes. Not to mention that Castiel is first and foremost a soldier, a strategist and is practically built to consider the worst case scenario and then take measures against it.

He'd just...hung his hopes on the wrong coat rack. That was all.

"Yes."

He won't lie to Dean again, though. That was a lesson he'd finally, finally learned.

"Okay. Yeah." Dean rests his forehead on the steering wheel for a moment before sitting up straight and getting the car moving again. "You're an idiot, just so you know. And I'm not sayin' that lightly, you out-idiot all the idiots, and coming from me, that's pretty impressive. And I dunno if I can trust you like I used to, but I am not leaving you, Cas. I'm just not."

Or he's not letting Castiel get away this time is what he means. It just came out a little bit sideways.

Castiel looks up toward the roof of the car, up toward the heavens in a gesture carried over from his time as one of the Holy Host. Searching for a Father who cared, brothers and sisters who listened, a plan that would work, that would save the world and the Winchesters in it.

Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

Castiel had already broken other commandments. What's one more?

"I will do whatever you ask of me, Dean." And ask nothing in return. True devotion is the only thing left that Castiel still understands without a single hiccup, and if Dean doesn't want him to go, doesn't want to leave, then Castiel will devote himself fully.

"Look, Cas, all I'm asking is that next time you need help, you tell me. And no more of this sorry, Dean, can't tell you what's goin' on in my head because it's classified Heaven business, okay?"

Dean wants to trust Castiel again, really wants to reach out and drag him back into the little circle of Dean-Sammy-Bobby-Cas-family he belongs to. It's just going to take him some time to really believe the words that fall out of Castiel's mouth.

"Your, uh, your coat's in the back. If you want it." The damn trench coat Dean's been carrying around for months because he couldn't make himself give up or throw out the only piece of Cas still on this earth.

Oh. That's right, he'd woken up without it. So Dean had found it and actually kept it.

"...thank you."

Suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown, Castiel wants to tell Dean everything. About returning to heaven expecting a reform, a revolution or at the very least open minds and encountering nothing but angels lost without a God to lead them, and after that, pain and fear and war. He wanted to tell Dean about watching him rake leaves, about being torn between asking for help and leaving Dean to the peace he'd found. He wanted to talk about how he'd planned to double-cross Crowley from day one, about how he tried to monitor what Crowley did so there would be as little backlash as possible.

He wanted to talk about how, after he was caught, it didn't matter how far he'd fallen from Dean's favor because nothing could compare to how much he hated himself.

An absent Father. The weight of Heaven and Earth on the shoulders of a rebellious foot soldier. The desperate balance between remaining the human he'd become with the Winchesters and becoming the general he had to be to save everything from Raphael. Through it all he only told Dean snippets, to protect him and Sam and then later, to protect himself.

Then the rush of godhood, the swell of power that bowled him off his feet and left him screaming in the waves, clinging to himself long enough to surface and put the souls back. And-

"I could use some help killing the Leviathan."

Oblivious as he is to all the thoughts swirling in Castiel's head, Dean just snorts.

"No kidding. If you've got any ideas on whacking those things, I'll hear it. So far, slowing 'em down is the best we've got. You've been at them for a couple months, right? Found anything better?"

It's easier talking about a case than about people. Dean actually almost relaxes.

"No." Castiel sighs as if he's relieved they've moved on to more neutral conversational ground, too. "They were created and confined before my time; all methods available to me have failed. I doubt even an angel could kill them. The angel sword doesn't seem to work, at any rate."

"Maybe that's just because you didn't have your mojo?" He takes a hand off the wheel, wiggling fingers for effect. "Bobby's been doing research for us, but I dunno how far he's gotten. Can't even call him. I don't have a damn phone."

Cas produces a cell from his pocket and holds it for Dean to take.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean snatches it, dialing Bobby's number from memory. "If you had this all the time, you should have called us!"

Bobby picks up on the first ring, distracting Dean for a while. He gives Bobby a quick run-down of the situation, though he leaves Castiel's name out of it, just saying that he ran into another hunter while after the Leviathan and they're helping each other out for now. See, sometimes Dean can be tactful. Too bad for them, Bobby doesn't have any good info yet, but he assures Dean he's still working on it. Dean grumbles, cuts off the call, and chucks the phone back into Cas' lap.

"Bobby's got nothin'. We're on our own. You hungry?"