inonebasket | (no subject)

(no subject)

This was not how Castiel had wanted to reunite with Dean Winchester. In fact, now that he was at that point, Cas wasn't sure he'd wanted to reunite with Dean Winchester at all. Guilt sank heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach and he was still getting used to the intensity of feeling.

He'd thought things were confusing as an angel. Twenty times worse with a human ticker pumping away in his chest.

Still, there wasn't exactly an option of running when the only exit was prowled by the Leviathan just beyond the door, held at bay only by the wards Cas had carved into the wood and accented with blood from the gash clotting on his forearm. He checked the shells in his shotgun (useless), the bowie knife against his thigh (also useless) and finally, finally looked over at Dean, not sure what he was going to see.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, Dean doesn't like it either, but it's effective, if stupid looking.

He's not apologizing, dammit.

Dean sits on the bed, running his hands over his face.

Cas sits down next to him, elbows on his knees. "Maybe this one will have more of my Grace than usual. Then we can start to hunt them in earnest." Even if his Grace wasn't at stake, Cas would want to hunt the Leviathans in earnest. It was his arrogance that brought them into this world and if it's the last thing he does, he'll put them away.

"Let's hope. It'd be nice to have your ass powered back up."

Dean knows it's as much about redemption as it is about retribution. He understands it. But Cas has fast redeemed in himself in Dean's eyes.

"Just don't get your ass kicked, got it?"

Dean's biased. Cas can still hear the caution in Sam's voice every time he calls, and Bobby doesn't talk to Cas unless absolutely necessary. All of that aside, Castiel still hasn't forgiven himself, and he doesn't expect anyone else to.

"I won't." Cas reaches over and pats Dean on the knee firmly, as Dean had done earlier in the car, before standing up and heading into the bathroom. He cups his hand beneath the faucet for a drink of water. "Dean...it's possible that the Leviathan can also sense the Grace inside of me. We should be prepared."

Dean wouldn't know about Sam's caution. Aside from the brief conversation about the Leviathan, Dean hasn't talked to his brother. He should, he just hasn't. He doesn't want to know what Sam thinks of him still sticking with Cas.

"We're as prepared as we can be." He takes a deep breath. "I'm gonna kill this son of a bitch, Cas."

Cas glances up. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and turns off the water. "We'll kill it, Dean."

"Right." Dean frowns. "We'll kill it."

Shut up, he's feeling protective.

Maybe he shouldn't have jumped out of the car like that earlier. Looks like his little stunt shook Dean up.

Cas emerges from the bathroom and lays down on the bed behind Dean, hands on his stomach. "You should rest, Dean."

Dean should rest. He stretches out next to Cas, sighing. He's not really shaken up, just...a little worried.

"You rest, too. We don't know when that thing'll catch up."

"You should also call your brother."

Cas. Starting a conversation like that is not conducive to rest.

"I'll call him after the Leviathan's dead. No point getting his hopes up."

Cas twitches his fingers towards Dean's duffel. "I meant with your new phone number. So he knows what it is."

Oh. Right. Dean rolls over, reaching across Cas to dig his phone out of the bag before flopping back onto his back and dialing Sam.

The conversation is brief; he doesn't mention the Leviathan, though he confirms that he and Cas are doing fine. He does tell Sam about Cas' skill at poker, though, grinning a little.

"Bobby and Sam say hi." He chucks the phone back into his bag.

"They did?" Cas doesn't mean to sound so surprised, he- Well yeah, Sam he expected, just to be nice, but Bobby? Bobby doesn't do nice. He's too old and to tired for all that nicety bullshit. It's one of the reasons Cas likes him, actually.

To be fair it was more like Sam asked Bobby if he wanted to say hi and Bobby waved him off with a "not now, busy", but that's pretty close to hi for Bobby. That and Dean is lying to make Cas feel better.

"They dropped a Leviathan of their own a couple days back. Got your Grace in a jar." That should be good news, right?

"I hope they didn't look directly at it. It could cause permanent blindness." It's an honest concern but comes out sounding like a joke.

"Sam said they covered it up first, should be fine." It's okay. Dean takes it pretty seriously, jokey or not. He pats Cas' leg. "Soon as we're done with this one, we'll get up their way so you can pick up your spare mojo from storage."

Sounds good to Cas.

He rolls onto his side, then rolls just a bit further so he can rest his hand on the mattress on the other side of Dean's hip, caging him in slightly. "Do you want to keep our activities a secret from Bobby?" Cas considers himself highly insightful for even thinking of it. It took a lot of thinking to bring him to that conclusion, that Dean might prefer Bobby not know.

Dean looks uncomfortable. Dean is uncomfortable. "...Yeah. Yeah, actually, that'd be good." It's not that Dean thinks Bobby would condemn him, exactly, considering how determined Bobby is for Dean to find happiness. But happiness, for Bobby and the Winchesters, doesn't quite mean shacking up with another dude. It especially doesn't mean shacking up with a fallen angel who betrayed all of them.

See, Cas was going to kiss Dean after he answered, but now that he has that expression on his face he stops. "...there's a problem." He doesn't know what it is; just that there is one.

"It's not you." Which just means there is a problem. "I told you, Cas, this is just kind of weird for me."

Dean is supposed to settle down with a nice girl. Have a kid. Enjoy barbecues and working in the yard. Not...make out with an angel in a male body in a motel room in Vegas while hunting things that are trying their damnedest to eat him. That's not happiness.

And yet, Dean's feeling better now than he ever did living with Lisa.

Cas isn't always perceptive when it comes to nuances of human behavior, but he's depressingly good at reading Dean. He has the same look on his face that he had in the Lisa's hospital room, and when he'd walked away, a hand over his mouth, out of the hospital and down to the Impala. Cas had watched him go.

Bringing it up will hurt. It'll dig a knife into a closing wound, peel it open, expose something neither of them want to look at. "I'm sorry," Cas says, and that's all he says.

"Not your fault, Cas." Dean's voice is rough. He reaches up to pull Cas' head down to his shoulder. "Only one thing here was your fault, and you're fixing it. Can't complain."

A lot more things are Castiel's fault than Dean knows, and Cas shakes his head though he doesn't lift it. He grips Dean's sides, strokes a hand over his chest. "I said everything was for you but I was wrong. Everything I did, I did for myself."

"Everyone's allowed to be selfish sometimes, Cas." If only Dean would take his own advice. "You did a lot for me and Sammy. And even the end...it was a bad choice, Cas. But I know why you made it."

Dear God, they're having a conversation. Not for the first time, either. Dean must be sick.