inonebasket | (no subject)

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

Edited 2011-11-21 06:07 (UTC)

"We're all sorry for something, aren't we."

The tone is dismissive; this might be the closest Dean will get to openly forgiving Cas.

Cas sits on the edge of the bed, like he had when he'd just met Dean and woken him in the middle of the night to fetch Sam. He watches the rise and fall of Dean's side, follows the slope of his back all the way up to his neck, the short buzz of his hair. The way the fabric of his shirt bunched at his waist, how he placed his legs. The sound of his breath.

"I suppose so."

It had never been about him before. Only when it had been about him did Castiel start to screw up. Before, when everything had been about Dean, things were hard but things were right.

Castiel thinks he understands now. 'To love is to put it before yourself,' one of his brothers had attempted to explain to him, when he was still young and trying to grasp God's order to love the humans. Obey God, love Man. That had been the mandate.

Now, finally, Castiel thinks he might understand.

Good thing one of them understands, because Dean sure as hell doesn't.

"You gonna go to sleep or you gonna stare at me all night, because that is kind of creepy, Cas. You're human now. Sleep before you fall over."

"Dean."

Let him stay for a moment longer. Stop being insecure and macho for one minute and let him look.

He is not insecure! Much!

"Fine. Do what you want. I'm going to sleep since I gotta drive tomorrow." He rearranges one more time, tucking the pillow securely under his neck, and relaxes, breathing eventually evening out.

Lucky Castiel, Dean doesn't snore.

Castiel watches Dean sleep and feels a bit more like himself for it. When it comes time for him to pass out, his head nodding down to his chest, some deeply buried instinct has him sliding down onto the floor, sitting with his back against the mattress. He slumps, head tilted back, and doesn't realize he'll wake up with a terrible crick in his neck as he drifts off leaning against Dean's bed.

That instinct is going to make Cas miserable if he listens to it too often, but what does Dean care? He's asleep! For a few hours anyway. All too soon the sun is shining, the birds are chirping and the damn motel phone is ringing. Still mostly asleep, Dean fumbles for the phone, managing to whack Cas in the head in the process.

He grunts out an apology before answering the phone. The conversation mostly consists of Dean making incoherent noises into the mouthpiece while he slowly wakes up and the person on the other end eventually hangs up on him. Dean nudges Cas.

"Time to get a move on, sunshine. Sounds like they want us out of here."

Edited 2011-11-21 06:50 (UTC)

Like the nudge is at all necessary with Cas still shaking off that clumsy punch to the skull. Gosh, Dean.

Cas groans, rubbing at his neck as he climbs painfully to his feet. God, he's sore all over, this is ridiculous, this is awful, why did he sleep on the floor? "Who was that?" Because Cas doesn't understand the front desk giving wakeup calls just yet.

"Clerk just remembered where she'd seen me before and doesn't want any trouble. So we're gonna make sure she doesn't have any. Come on, move your ass."

Dean checks his gun, grabs his bag and, almost as an afterthought, chucks a couple 20s on the bed. That oughta help her keep her mouth shut.

Oh, running from the law; the usual. Cas obediently picks himself up, grabs their food and follows because he, unfortunately, has nothing to his name except his weapons and the clothes on his back.

He also snags the keys from the table, hurries out to the Impala and opens the trunk for Dean to throw his duffel in, climbing into the passenger seat and passing the keys over so they can get started on their grand escape. The remnant of last night's burger is already in Cas's mouth.

Worse than that. Damn Leviathans. Yes, yes, Dean should really use a different ride, but dammit, he loves his baby.

Without a word, Dean starts up the car and pulls out of he parking lot, heading for the nearest highway. The more miles he puts between him and this town, the better. Good timing, too. No sooner are they out than Dean hears sirens pulling in and thank you whatever god is or isn't out there, he's glad they left when they did. He also regrets leaving cash for the sell-out clerk. Bitch.

"We're gonna meet up with Bobby at some point. Unless you'd rather stick to the road, hunt Leviathans. We can stop by the house, stock up on supplies. Maybe we'll find something that kills the things." He's giving Cas a way out of dealing with Bobby and Sam. It won't last forever, but maybe it'll help Cas get his head on straight and help Dean get used to him being around again.

Castiel's hands clench around the takeout bag when Dean mentions going to Bobby's house. Eventually he'll have to face him, as well as face Sam.

God, Cas doesn't want to face Sam yet. He isn't ready.

Cas works his mouth for a moment before croaking out, "Whatever you need to do, Dean."

To be fair, Bobby's not at the house at the moment. A second later, Dean realizes Cas probably doesn't know that. He glances over and--actually can't remember the last time he actually saw Cas look distressed.

"Hey. Hey, man, Bobby's not there right now. He's doing research, remember? You're good."

Castiel grunts, because he wasn't distressed okay. He fishes out his piece of pie and pops open the container, picking up the damn thing and biting off nearly half of it.

God, that's another thing he has to get used to. Embarrassment. He doesn't want Dean to feel he needs to be protected, least of all from what he's got coming to him for being a vengeful, dickheaded god. "I'll need to face him eventually. When it happens doesn't matter."

Edited 2011-11-21 07:24 (UTC)

Yeah, he was totally distressed. Or worried. Or something. Dean's still learning how to read Castiel's facial expressions. Mostly he can tell the difference between good ones and bad ones. Mostly.

"Yeah, well. It doesn't need to happen right now, does it? So it's not gonna. Look, I'll uh...I'll call him later. Let him know you're around. Let him get used to the idea. He can tell Sam, I guess. Or I will. Later."

Cas suddenly loses his appetite, boxes up the half of pie left and stuffs it back into the bag.

It had seemed like such a rational course of action at the time. He would fix Sam when he had the power he needed to defeat Raphael. He would fix Sam, do it properly and kill Raphael and put Heaven into order.

Then it all went south, but out of everything Cas thinks what he regrets the most is what he did to Sam, because he couldn't even blame that on the power rush. That had been all him, all bad judgment and cruelty.

"All right. Later."

He's scared of Sam. No- not of what Sam would do to him. Scared of how Sam would look at him, because even after everything Sam had prayed to him like he was still Castiel and in the end, it had been Sam who'd called him back.

Dean's a little scared of how Sam will react, too, partly because he hasn't seen Sam in weeks. They're...estranged. And Dean's been lonely because of it. He's missed having someone in the passenger seat and now that it's Cas over there, he's suddenly feeling a little reluctant about heading back to Bobby or meeting up with Sam and that's nobody's fault but his own.

He notices Cas shoving the pie back in the bag. "Hey--hey, hey, hey! You be gentle with that! Don't you waste pie!"

Because pie is a much easier topic of conversation and Dean is very good at avoidance.

"I'm not." Cas is cranky on bad feelings and sore body parts and a lack of sleep. "Your piece is still in there." He forgets that technically all of it is Dean's, considering Dean is the one who paid for it.

"Good. Don't touch my pie." Cas knows how Dean feels about pie. Or he better know by now.

Dean glances over, giving Cas an evaluating look. "Get in back and take a nap. You look like hell."

"I'm fine." Cas licks his fingers and puts the bag down by his feet. He's actually better than he's been; he got to eat until he was full and even if he'd slept sitting up, it was indoors and in a quiet room. More than that-

More than that, Dean.

So really, considering the past few months, today is actually one of his better ones. He allows himself a small smile. Dean doesn't absolutely despise him. This is much better than he expected.

"You don't look fine." He looks over again, swerving a little. "Seriously, crawl in back and lie down. It'll make me feel better."

"Would it help you to drive properly?" Because you keep swerving, man. Call Cas crazy, but he thinks getting into a car accident might actually be a little more hazardous to his health than a lack of a good night's sleep.

He's only swerving because he keeps looking at Cas. Geez.

"Your sense of humor still sucks. But yeah, if I'm not looking at you ever ten seconds, I'll drive better."

"You could just try not looking over at me."