Castiel (angelofnowhere) wrote in papillonlogs, @ 2010-09-02 22:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | x castiel, x dean winchester |
Who: Castiel 1 and Dean 1
When: The day of their arrival
Where: The square to start
What: Their first meeting.
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Dean wasn't sure what to make of the conversation he and Cas (both of Cas?) had had over the PDAs. It was one thing to be transported into some sort of strange Twilight Zone like fantasy world, the building's looking like someone's failed art project and the people just a little too... chipper to really sit well with him. But now, to hear the different stories, the memories not adding up. And two of Castiel? A woman who called herself Anna, but looked nothing like her? Dean was at a loss.
He was equal parts relieved and anxious, when he saw Castiel waiting in the park ahead of him; relieved because it was Cas, the one being Dean had actually come to trust implicitly since after Hell, the one person he knew really got it. But... also a little on edge. Because this wasn't Cas, or it wasn't the 'right' Cas, or something. He didn't know. He didn't understand. And more than that, he'd lost his faith. The angel had been the one to encourage- insist- Dean's commitment to his ordination after returning from Hell. He wasn't devout- he drank, and cursed, and missed his Hours more often than not. But he was mindful. He tried. After everything, that had to be good enough. But to know this was Castiel, his guardian angel, stripped of his power... why? Because he was through with his 'mission'? Upset Dean on a deep level. Was that what this was? Was God simply... done with them?
Pushing the depressing thoughts aside, Dean held up a hand in greeting to Cas, forcing a tired smile. "Please tell me you're the one that remembers,"
"I am Dean," he said, just as tiredly. He was relieved to see Dean was dressed as a civilian, He did not think he could cope with Holy vestments on top of everything else he'd been though that day. The demon, the dead friends, the other Castiel... That was, by far, the most unsettling and yet... oddly reassuring. It was clear his other self needed help, needed direction. Having something to do, to work towards, made him feel a little less directionless himself.
On the other hand, he wasn't sure what helping Castiel entailed. He wasn't sure it wasn't letting him go on oblivious with at least a chance of faith.
Faith. Dean was a... man of the cloth. A servant of his Father. A better servant than he himself, he decided. He didn't move closer to Dean, just stood stiffly, his hands in his pockets. Suddenly there seemed a great distance between them. The former angel stood tense and solemn, the effect only spoiled by his growling stomach.
Something in Castiel's posture brought Dean up short, pausing midstep. He felt the familiar awkward tension grip his shoulders, hand still reflexively moving to rest on the hilt of the iron blade at his side. Dean forced a breath, reminding himself this was Cas, it had to be- no one else could made Dean feel so comforted and so guilty all at once.
"Are you-?" Don't ask stupid questions, Dean. He could almost hear the annoyance in Castiel's voice at the remembered phrase, and it was enough to get a more genuine, if infinitely more sad, smile out of him. "Come on. We need to eat," Hands burrowed down into his pockets, Dean turned on his heel and led the way back out to the main street. He'd passed a pizza place not too far back- like he'd promised Anna they would bring her. Having a destination might make the conversation feel a little less stifling, if no less awkward.
Castiel fell into stop beside Dean. "Where are we going?" he asked stiffly. He kept glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye as if trying to assure himself it really was Dean. He knew it was rediculous. It was Dean. Not his Dean, perhaps, but then also his. There was no version of Dean who was not.
"It is... I am glad you are here," he said stiffly. "Though not that anyone is here." He decided against mentioning the demon at least until they were seated, perhaps when they had eaten. For some reason Castiel was not that concerned about Crowley. It made no sense...
"It is also good to see Sam. I... it didn't feel right without him. Lisa was not the same," he said sagely.
What might have seemed 'stiff' to Castiel was just typical angelic attitude, to Dean. Of course he knew Castiel was different than the other angels, or so he thought. But it didn't strike him as terribly out of the ordinary. No more than anything else about the situation. "I passed a pizza shop, a couple blocks back. You said you were going to visit... Anna, right?" The woman Dean had just blithely believed to be Anna Milton, "I told her we'd bring a pizza."
He didn't know what to make of the comment about seeing Sam- he took a minute to try and work something out himself, before arching a brow over in the angel's direction. "Who's Lisa? You mentioned her before."
"I plan to see Anna, yes... She is distressed. I think my presence upsets her but I am not willing to leave it at that. She is my sister. I cannot leave her in that state... Did she say what topping?" Castiel was starting to relax a fraction. Going for pizza was something he had done with Dean and his family. Dean had tried to hard to engage the angel in their life. His success had been mixed.
Dean's question confused him. "Lisa is the one you love. She is a yoga instructor. You care for her son as your own. She... let us live with her after..."
The non-sequitor question at the end of Castiel's little speech made Dean's smile grow a fraction; that was more what he was used to. "She didn't. I didn't think to ask. I... wasn't really expecting her to be human, I guess. I just offered out of habit," Which probably wasn't the best thing to admit to, but it had the benefit of being honest. Dean wasn't the most overtly religious man around, but he had fallen head-first into the service aspect of his new unlikely family; he no longer shied away from the idea of offering to help others whenever he could manage.
Lisa... Yoga instructor... Why did that- "Wait. Lisa Braeden? As in, Gumby chick Lisa, back in... what was it, 98?" It had been a long time since Dean had thought about her. "...After-?"
"Yes... Gumby. That's what you called her...
His voice trailed off. "I trust you to choose for Anna. I always liked what you offered me... aside from the one with the fish. Please do not offer me one of those again." His lip curled up a little in distaste.
His mind was more on Anna to be honest. His sister in the same situation he was. It made his stomach tighten in distress.
"Anchovies?" Dean's face screwed up in much the same way. "I was probably jerking your chain. You should've decked me," Unsure of just what else he could say, about Anna or about Lisa, Dean let the silence rein unchecked for a few minutes, lost in thought. Heaven, Hell, or something in between, someone was messing with him. Them. All of them. The one person Dean would normally turn to for direction (at least, the one he actually expected to answer him) was clearly feeling even more lost than he was. He was tired, he was hungry, and oh yeah- he was more or less positive he had just died. And Bobby thought he missed the life.
"They were salty," Castiel complained. The memory made him feel a little closer to Dean. "I forgave you the once..." It was almost a tease. Castiel walked in silence, matching Dean's. His thought went to the demon and his son. His son. The son he showed condern for, care for. A demon. Worried about his son while...
"Dean, do you have accomodations?"
That was... a really good question. Dean looked from Cas, back down to his PDA. "It listed a number at the apartments we were supposed to be headed to. So I guess? I don't know. I wasn't..." He wasn't what? Planning on staying? He was dead. But, then... he didn't sleep much in Hell, or really have anyplace he called 'his' to spend time. It should have occurred to him that Heaven- or wherever this was- was probably different. It just... hadn't. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't dead anymore, not in any 'real' sense. He was hungry, but not the gut-wrenching hunger of Hell. He had bled, with the sharp physical pain of the living, when he'd tested his arm carefully with his knife. But still. To have no idea where they were. He frowned, looking around the street as they walked. "Do you? Have a place, I mean."
"I have a number." Clearly, to Castiel, both has about as much meaning as each other. A bed. Shelter. They were for his body, a body he hadn't even had for two years... that had only really been his for a couple of months. It wasn't him. He lived in his head. The body was there only to carry his essence, his mind. But it's care was required so he went for food.
"I will need... money," he said. Castiel, the angel of the Lord, had never had a job in his existance. A mission yes. A purpose sure. A role but never a job. "I... need a... job." He sounded disbelieving.
"Woah, now," Dean tried for 'lighthearted' and ended up landing somewhere far closer to 'desperate'. "Let's not get ahead of things, okay? Food, and find Anna, and see about getting some sleep. Then we can worry about how we're going to pay for it," Dean had never been a 'rich' man (he had meant what he'd said, about the vow of poverty), but he had never struggled for money. Between his works with the parish (that he hadn't asked to be paid for, but tradition was tradition) and his work at the auto shop, he'd always had enough to get by, pay his rent, keep his car running. Without his Baby to take care of, he could probably manage to help keep Cas on his feet, at least for a while. Assuming any of his money from before had followed him. If they even took cash, and Jesus, this was getting complicated. Thankfully, they happened upon the pizza parlor just then, allowing Dean to distract himself by leading the way into the building.
Castiel had to admit that the idea of food and rest was appealing. Especially rest. The day was starting to catch up with him and he was glad to slide into a cushioned booth. His legs were aching from standing for so long, his shoulders tense from every conversation he had had and his stomach was tight from looking at Dean. He couldn't get past it. He would do his level best not to let on but Dean's vocation bothered him. It felt like betrayal. He kept remining himself that this Dean had a difference experience. That his...
"Dean, in your world, was I happy?"
Dean folded himself into the other side of the booth, visibly balking at Castiel's question. The silence that followed was probably the polar opposite of comforting, but it was as true as it was harsh. Dean swallowed, looking from Cas, out the window, as he spoke. "I... I don't know, Cas. I. Really don't think so. You were always so tense, so... worn down about what we were doing. The last time I saw you, you were frantic. I..." Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry," There went the guilt, again, but this time, it was sincere- It had been easy enough to think of Cas as just another angel, in the moment, in that battle. But here- after quickly starting to grapple with the idea of being dead (or having died, at any rate), and now this Castiel who didn't know him at all, seeming so much more... human than the one he expected? Why hadn't he thought to ask before?
Castiel was quiet for a long time. When he spoke it was softly. "Thank you for being frank, Dean," he said, his eyes out the window. They only left that direction when the waitress arrived to take their order. Castiel ordered a BBQ chicken pizza and a raspberry spider (Ben's influence) the he went back to staring out the window.
"The demon was worried about his son," Castiel said suddenly several minutes after the waitress left.
He smiled apologetically at the waitress as he gave his own order- a simple pepperoni pizza and a coke- before his attention was left falling back on Castiel. The lost look on his face was deeply unsettling to Dean; Cas had always been the one with direction, with the answers. If he didn't know what to do... "...Wait. What demon?" Had he missed something? Anna had said there were demons around, but he hadn't known she was speaking so immediately. "What do you mean 'son'?"
"The demon Crowley," he said before turning his eyes to Dean. "I was spreaking with. He... showed far more concern for his son that for fighting me or arranging the harm of others or any other adgenda. "I..."
"You were talking to a demon?" The rebuke was harsher than Dean meant to sound, but only half as severe as he felt; remembering what the death of two demons had cost him not mroe than an hour ago, it shouldn't have been surprising. "Fine. Let him worry about his kid," Something in the way the statement hung left an ominous tone to his words; he would get around to dealing with the demons later. First, he wanted to make sure Cas- this human, oddly... relatable Cas- and Anna (again, human, and how was that even possible) were alright. The waitress finally came back with their drinks, and Dean reached for his to take a drink, catching himself regretting not springing for a beer.
"I may speak to whom I wish," Castiel snapped. It wasn't like a priest was who he really wanted to be with. It was harsh, yes. It was also true.
"The point isn't he wasn't a demon. The point is he was a demon who..." Castiel stared back out the window, his lips pressed together. He didn't want to have this discussion with Dean. He didn't want it all to come out now. They needed to eat, get food to Anna and rest. Not fight.
Dean glared over at the angel when he was snapped at, a sudden affront. "I never said you couldn't. Jesus, Cas, I just-" He scoffed, shaking his head to try and calm himself down. When that failed, he took another drink of his coke. Another failure. "A demon who... what? Has a child?"
"I don't know how it works Dean. He was... I don't know how he got the child. That, also, isn't the point." His voice was tight. Clearly he was holding a lot in and doing a rather ordinary job of it.
"Then what is the point, Cas?" Dean's tone shifted abruptly from tense to tired- he didn't want to fight with Castiel, he didn't have the energy, or the will to bother.
"His concern was for his son. The demon... was only concerned for his son." It was all he said, not wanting to spell it out.
Dean nodded once, twice, a slow and almost skeptical motion. "And so..." Concerned for his son. Dean visibly winced, when he reached a conclusion. "I... I don't know what to say to that, angel."
"I envied the child of a demon," Castiel said, sipping his frothy drink like a hardened drunk. "The only good thing about this day is it ends at midnight."
Despite himself, one corner of Dean's mouth quirked at the cynical little quip- coming from Castiel, of all people. If he didn't try to smile, he might just start to wallow. No one wanted to see that. Still, the moment passed quickly enough, not wanting to seem like he was actually amused by the angel's pain. "You can talk to me, you know," A gentle offer, Dean very careful to keep his tone 'friendly' rather than 'benevolent'; he was acting as Castiel's friend, not a man of God.
"You won't want me to," Castiel said frankly. He would never be less that honest with Dean was he wasn't above detering him. More froth, more soda, more empty eyed gazes into the street.
i
"It's gotta be better than this." Dean would rather Castiel talk, let out some of... whatever it was he was holding in (he was emoting, which was odd enough for Dean until he reminded himself Castiel was human). Watching him suffer the way he was just set Dean on edge.
"It's not your fault Dean. Your experience was different. It is not for me to say."
Dean shifted one shoulder in a tired shrug. "Doesn't mean you're not feeling like crap, Cas." He almost tacked on the usual 'I can't help you unless you let me,' but figured that might be baiting the angel a little too far.
"No, it doesn't. But making you feel like crap won't help me."
"You're managing that just fine without trying," Dean took a longer drink from his coke, sighing as the fizz did absolutely nothing to quench his craving for a drink.
That pulled him up short. "I am? But I haven't... you really want to know?"
Brows furrowed as Dean looked over Castiel's face, apparently searching for something. "I don't ask if I don't want to know, you know that." Or, at least, he should.
Castiel sighed deeply. "It bothers me," he said vaguely, looking out the window.
Well, that was... wholly unhelpful. "What bothers you, Cas?" In the last two hours Dean had believed he left Castiel to die, killed two demons, started the apocalypse, landed in some new... place, and met human versions of both the angels he'd befriended. 'Bothered' didn't hold a candle to how Dean was feeling- and he was used to being human, more or less. He could only begin to guess at what was irritating Castiel.
The angel shook his head. "It's wrong. I cannot influence you." He wasn't trying to he stubborn. He was genuinely conflicted.
"Influence me about what, angel," His tone was walking the line between fatigue and annoyance again; he knew the angels struggled (or pretended to struggle) with open communication. That didn't make it any less of a hassle to try and get a straight answer out of one.
"Your calling," he finally admitted, his body stiff and tense.
An odd, thoughtful look worked its way over Dean's features, eyes examining just how uncomfortable the conversation was making Cas. Of course he wasn't going to feel comfortable discussing God- Dean could understand that. But the job? "Cas, it's not..." Dean sighed deeply, looking down at the peeling finish on the table in front of him. "You knew me as a hunter, I guess?" If he wasn't a mechanic, or a deacon, that was the only thing he could think of himself doing. "Did you ever talk to him about why he hunts?"
"It is all he has ever known. I... he hunts because his father hunted, because his brother needed protection, because he wishes to help those who are vulnerbale to things they don't come close to understanding. Then it became a battle for himself, his world."
Dean shrugged again. "I protect people. I help those that are vulnerable to things they won't ever understand. I fought for myself, and Creation. I just... lost one father and found another." And it was as simple as that, for Dean. There had been no great revelation, no one outstanding life-changing event. He had just needed someone, or something, else to help guide him. To remind him what was right, to keep doing the right thing.
"I see," said Castiel, his lips pressed together, the strain obvious on his brow. He could have said he understood and, to the first part, he did. Dean helped others a great deal. It was something he respected him for. It was the second part of his statement Castiel was struggling with.
The conflict was clear on the former angel's face, but Dean had no idea how to explain himself to Castiel. He hadn't gotten very far trying to explain to Bobby, and Sam had never seemed to care. Castiel had just understood, and the fact that he didn't here... "Did I ever even end up in San Jose? Or was I on the road?" 'All he ever knew' suggested Dean had kept traveling with John- 'protecting his brother' meant Sammy was along, too. And then it hit him. "They traveled as a family?"
"Until your father went missing. Then you and Sam travelled together. You did not settle. You remained on the road." His voice was still tight. He suspected Dean was trying to make a point. Castiel was sure he didn't want to hear it.
He nodded slightly- that would make sense. "I've been on my own since I was 22, Cas. Almost ten damn years. I tried the solo hunting thing for a while, it ended in various shades of fucked up," Dean winced at the curse, taking a breath to try and center himself again. "I did a string of jobs up and down California, trying to stick close to Sammy. There was this skinwalker just outside San Jose, sleepy little church town, it took me the better part of a month to hunt down, and.. I was so damn sick of moving on my own. I just wanted time off. And, eventually... it was like a home. Those people became family. The jobs were just... how I helped them. It was never really 'the calling', Cas. Just another part of the life,"
"So this isn't about my Father? You serve these people? Your family?" His sounded a little sceptical but he was also caught in a wave of relief. It was far easier to accept Dean as a helper of man than a servant of God.
There was a moment's hesitation, before another shrug. "A while back, it might have been. Before the Deal, I... it's a really nice sell, you know? Heaven. The Host. The idea of Righteousness..." He scoffed, bitter, at the word. "Whatever might have been about God before, I've lost it," If Castiel was paying attention, he might notice the slight lilt of regret to the last phrase- It had been so much easier, Dean had been happier, when he had allowed himself to nurture that bit of faith. Ignorance really was bliss. But he wasn't any good to anyone, if he couldn't be realistic about things. And so he'd forced himself to remain distant- for his parish, as well as his own sanity. Frank seemed to understand, as much as he could, being retired from the life. But there was still a part of him that almost wished for that simpler life.
Castiel shrugged. "God is a dick. I'm sorry we had to find that out. It was... better before." The angel's voice was soft. He didn't want to say those harsh words about his Father. He wanted them to be untrue. He wanted his Father to come down and prove him wrong but, so far, there had been no hint of that.
"There is Righteousness, Dean. It is just generally not found where people think it lies."
"I know, Cas." The words had almost left his mouth 'I knew'; because what sort of righteous God would take his mother, his father, and his brother from him, the way they had been taken? What God would let one of his servants- if not his most faithful- go to Hell? Yes, he may have sent Castiel to fetch Dean and return him to his mission, but look how that had turned out for them. Then again... Cas was right. There was righteousness- if was just often hidden behind stoic rationale and an ugly trenchcoat. "...You deserve better than this, Cas. We'll find a way to make it work, alright?" Not 'fix'; Dean was still unsure if the angel really wanted to be 'fixed', or just comforted. But either way, they could work something out.
Castiel nodded then, more to acknowledge Dean support than to agree with him. He had no idea what they were even trying to make work but Dean was here, assuring him. He was trying when no one else was. He had made sure Castiel had somewhere to go when he was left homeless. Made sure he had something like a direction when he was lost. He had saved Dean. Dean was returning the favour. It did... work. Just then the pizza arrrived and Castiel was lost for a moment in a little cloud of steam.
"I have never supported every choice you have made, Dean, but... I trust you. I know you better than I know myself. I have seen what it is that forms your foundation. I believe you when you say you will find a way. We always have." And he smiled. It was small and weak and unpracticed but it was there.
Castiel's words brought Dean up short, distracting himself with his pizza rather than trying to form an answer. He knew, on some level, that what the former angel had said was absolutely true. Someone must have rebuilt Dean, put him back together on the numerous levels that Hell had broken him down. But something about the way Castiel said it, the conviction in his words... Dean had never thought of it like that. The scar on his shoulder and the vague, troubling memories of being terrified were all he had of his being saved; the idea of just how much deeper that all ran was all at once awkward and... somehow comforting
Dean's first slice of pizza was sacrificed quickly to his hunger, before he finally spoke. "What was it like? Your life, after... all that?"
"It was... strange. I lived with you and Lisa and Ben but I know I did not belong there. I don't think you knew what to do with me and I... certainly didn't know what to do." He chewed thoughtfully. "I used to take walks. Some days I would forget to come home. I wouldn't care. It wasn't really... There were some thing I liked. The food was good and Ben would show me amusements... I think, in time, I could have..." He gave up trying to articulate himself and just ate in silence.
"I would have wanted you there. You're family, Cas." Moreso than either of the other names that were mentioned, at any rate. Dean couldn't possibly see that changing in a universe where Cas had obviously given up so much for him. "You could have been happy?" He tried, looking down at his food to avoid making things any more awkward; he knew it was pushing, but it suddenly seemed incredibly important to know.
He picked at the topping of his pizza. "I... I don't know Dean. I only know that that was your life, not mine. I was there because there was nowhere else for me to be. I do not know if there is a home for me there or here but I doubt it is to be found in someone elses home. It doesn't not matter Dean. I do not expect to be happy. I am not concerned."
Dean looked back up at the last, brows furrowed in almost-offense. "Bullshit, angel. After all that, you deserve..." He could feel the anger rising, and the attempt to settle himself was visible; he took a deep breath and continued, somewhat more subdued. "I get that it's not fair, Cas. And I wouldn't... wish any of that on you. But you should expect to be happy. You deserve that. That's the one good thing that could come out of that,"
"It doesn't matter, Dean," Castiel said, his voice small. "I have what I chose. I have accepted it. You need to also." His ate in small bites now, his eyes tired. He looked like he carried the weight of the world and has stopped even carring about that. "Can we talk about something else?"
If the look on Dean's face was any indication, it was on his tongue to argue, to insist it did matter, to try and make Cas see that it was important to him, and should be important to the other man as well. But he knew that look- it wasn't going to work, not then. He ate in silence, unsure of just what else he could talk to the former angel about. "...What were they like? Lisa and Ben?" Probably not as far from the point as Castiel was hoping for, but Dean was curious. More than once, before his deal, Dean had caught himself wondering what that life would be like- the wife and kid, steady job thing. He'd loved Rachel more than enough- she was a good woman, from a good family, the perfect balance of belief and removal from his insane 'calling'. But he'd lost that, after Hell, unwilling to seek her out, to bring the weight of the world- literally- down on her. That some version of him had finally found that was... interesting.
"They were good people. Ben was... a small version of you. Lisa was kind and patient. She... I don't think it was easy for her to have in her house. She chose you, not me, but she made great effort to accomodate me. I... appreciated it." He looked thoughtful, a little more engaged. "You were... happy. She was kind to you too.'
"Lisa Braeden," He muttered absently, almost nostalgic. She had a kid. A miniature... Dean's face turned thoughtful for a moment, eyes sliding from Cas to his drink as he turned the glass slowly in his hands. "...How old was Ben?" The fact that Dean had managed the more 'polite' version of the question was really only to do with the shock.
"He was ten years old," Castie said. He knew exactly why Dean was asking but he didn't let on.
Ten years, plus nine or so months... Dean sighed again, nodding to himself. "Huh." There was a moment where he almost screwed up the courage to ask, before he decided against it- all of this alternate universe crap going around, there was no saying she had... if they had even... right? He went back to his pizza, lost in thought.
"Dean, you were happy, that is all you need to know. That is not your life. Your life is here, at least for now. You have already been what you would call family to me. You have... Rachel? waiting for you."
"I know," Reflexive denial; that wasn't his life, he wasn't entirely sure he had a life to get back to... and then Cas mentioned Rachel. Dean's eyes fell to his plate, head shaking, small but sharp, in the negative. "No. I haven't... I didn't go back, after Hell. I couldn't bring that to her. Them. Any of them," He had thought about it, when hope started to fade- trying to find some way to save them, or at least warn them. But he knew it wouldn't do any good. They would be better off ignorant, like the rest of the world. He couldn't face them, knowing he'd been the one to fail.
"Dean..." Castiel wanted to say something but it wasn't his place to influence Dean in such a thing and it was none of his business. It was far too personal a thing, foreign thing, he was not qualified to talk on so he said something he did feel qualified to say. "Dean, you deserve it too, you know. Happiness."
Dean felt his jaw clench as Castiel started to speak, and forced himself to breathe through it, when the other man redirected. That was one of the main reasons he hadn't bothered going back- Hell had changed him, more deeply than he wanted to admit. He would rather he thought of his family mourning the man they knew, than being horrified at what he was. How could Castiel claim he deserved to be happy, after that? "I... yeah, I guess," Now, maybe. After doing what Heaven expected of him- even if it was becoming the man that brought about Judgment. "But so do they,"
"I am not suggesting you go back to her if you do not feel you can or should but I tend to find people do not like having decisions made for them. That is all I wish to say aside from the fact that Lisa was very happy with you, after Hell. You can make other's happy, I have seen it. Do not doubt yourself."
His frustration grew, at that, a common sign that he was being proved wrong. And so he did what he always did- redirected. "It's not like it matters. I died, Cas. I don't think there is a 'going back' for me, anyway,"
"Dean... I don't think this is the afterlife. This is not what is waiting for me... you are not dead and, even if you were, it doesn't mean you cannot find happiness here. There are many people here also looking for the same. I am sure you will find one you care for."
"That's not the point," He managed to keep his voice down, if not exactly level; another breath. "Look, I'm... trying, okay? I just..." Unsure of how he wanted to finish that, he took the easier option. "What do you mean, this isn't what's 'waiting for you'?"
"You think a pizza joint will feature in my afterlife Dean? When I die my brothers will have me back. I know how that will go," he said, matter of factly,
"How?" Genuine curiosity- Dean had the vague sense that he was missing something, but... Castiel was going back to Heaven. Wasn't he?
"Dean... you need me to say it?"
His curiosity was chased away by concern, then shock, before a sort of chagrined understanding. He shook his head, silent, as he turned back to his food.
"So, we are not dead," Castiel assured him. "This is good news."
"Is it?" And God help him, Dean just sounded tired with the question, suddenly even more bitter than before. How much were they going to have to give, before it was done?
"Only if you find the concept of hope appealing," Cas said dryly.
Lacking a good answer for that- actually realizing he was being absurd, at that point- Dean just shot an arch look over at Cas, then finished his pizza; not quite sulking, but close.
Castiel did the same, licking his lips when he was done. "We should order for Anna," he said when he has emptied his glass.
With a nod, Dean waved the waitress over and ordered another pizza to go, and another coke for himself. He only just stopped himself from making it a beer, but he wasn't looking to get into that conversation, on top of everything. "Did you... talk to her?"
"Yes... she said she understood... why I was cautious of her. What she said about Uriel was most interesting."
He caught himself just short of asking why she had worried the other man- not his business. "What, about Uriel?"
"In her time he never... he never took it upon himself to kill the other angels. Anael never fell. She thinks, when she did in our world, that unsettled him so much he... I am not sure."
"She said she didn't fall, but. I guess I never... huh," Dean didn't know enough of what the angels did when he wasn't around to really comment. But the idea of Anna- Anael- helping them, rather than being run off, was... different.
"The one here didn't." He wondered, for a moment, how close Dean and Anna were in his time. "But, then, no one seems to be as I knew them." It was surprising how easy he was with Dean, aside from one obvious change that concerned him. He certainly felt a sense of the familiar.
Dean found a laugh, soft and dry, for the comment. "No kidding. But hey- if things started getting easy at this point, I'd probably worry,"
Castiel was quiet for a while, his eyes looking somewhere out the window. When he spoke his voice had an odd lilt. "Dean... I don't know if I'll find a home here."
i
"Why not?" His tone was soft, likely more serious than Castiel was used to hearing; it was something to do with his occupation, yes, but far more to do with his concern.
"It... feels wrong like... it's trying to push me away. I don't want to be here."
"What? I mean... I don't really think anyone wants to be here, but... push you how?" Another angel thing?
"I don't know... I think so. This place is empty. The people who were here before us are soulless. It feels like a copy to me."
Dean balked again- he was getting sick of the confusion, even as an irrational part of his mind reminded him that Cas always confused him, and he found a brief moment of comfort in it. "You can still...?" Feel... whatever it was he was feeling? Dean wasn't sure how to word it, and made a small motion with the hand not holding his drink to forgive the missing words.
"I can see things, a demon's form, an angel's. I can see the flunctations of time. I can see these people have no soul. I mau have lost ,my Grace but I am not human Dean."
"Oh," It was inadequate, but really, what else was he supposed to say to that? "Then what- can anything do that?"
"My father, an archangel... the antichrist... a demigod, there are a few possibilities."
Dean gave that a moment's thought. "And of those things, do we know how many are here?"
"Angels and... Crowley's son. I am not sure what his nature is. I haven't seen him."
"Crowley?" Dean really hoped he'd stop feeling like he was missing things, eventually.
"The demon... fallen angel."
Dean's eyes narrowed at that. "A demon's son."
"Yes."
"Why were you talking about this, again?"
"He... was worried about his son, didn't know where he was."
Dean remembered that conversation, vaguely. "Do you think they're going to be a problem?"
"No, I don't know why but... I trust them."
He sighed. "Then... I guess we keep an eye out." Dean didn't like it- considering where trusting demons had gotten him, lately. But there wasn't anything to do about it, right then. Thankfully, they were saved from the awkward pause by the waitress bringing the third pizza, and the check.
Castiel took the pizza and left the check for Dean. "I will be," Castiel said in a 'if I haven't left in the next 24 hours' way.
Something about the tone struck Dean, although he didn't know quite what it was. "Anything else you need, before we head..." To the apartments, which Dean suddenly realized he had no idea how to find.
"There is nothing I need," he said, his tone flat. "Anael is waiting."
That time, he did catch it. "Woah- I missed something."
"What did you miss?"
"I don't know. Whatever made you..." He waved a hand vaguely. "You okay?"
He turned to face Dean directly then, looked him in the eye and said, "Anael is waiting."
A moment's defiance left Dean just staring- but before anything could come of it, he nodded, and led the way out to the street in silence.
Castiel followed like a baby duck, holding the pizza close. He walked with his head bowed a little, his eyes downcast, trusting Dean to lead him.
"You can talk to me, you know," Dean offered as casual-sounding as possible, as they rounded a corner and the apartment complex- or what vaguely looked like an apartment building, if not for the odd orange color of the building- came into view.
"I... wish I was him," he said without preamble, still following behind Dean.
Dean fought the urge to glance over his shoulder, knowing all too well it was likely to cow Castiel back into silence. "Wish you were who?"
"The other me."
"...Why?"
"You don't know?
"Say I don't," He didn't mean for it to come off as patronizing, but he got the sense Castiel needed to talk things out. Dean wasn't the kind to make the hard conversations easier, not if they were necessary.
"He doesn't... remember being an angel, Dean."
Dean made a face halfway between a smile and a scowl. "And you really want to forget?"
"Of course," he said in his 'well duh' tone.
"If it meant forgetting your family. Heaven. Your grace." Me. "Not knowing who you are. What you could do. What you liked?"
"Yes." There was no hesitation. "He is... happy."
Dean was quiet for a while, after that. "He's happy, Cas. But he's not you anymore. There's got to be some other way."
"I do not see the problem," he said to Dean's back.
"You hate yourself that much?" Dean finally turned around, as they reached the next corner, the look on his face guarded, but definitely a scowl this time.
There was steel in his voice now. "I hate everything about my situation Dean. I have seen what it takes for me to happy. Why shouldn't I want it?"
"Why does it take losing yourself for you to be happy, Cas?"
"I don't know Dean but it apparently does."
Dean turned and led them along the next block, silent. When he did speak, it was soft, reluctant but nonetheless resolved. "Then we find a way to make you forget,"
Castiel followed on for a few more metres. "Thank you Dean," he said softly.
"You're wrong," He said, with the simple conviction of a man who had nothing better to say. "But it's your life. If that's what you want."
Castiel sighed loudly. "How am I wrong Dean?"
"I guess I just don't see how more people abandoning family is really going to solve this situation,"
"I won't be going anywhere Dean."
Dean rolled his eyes skyward, a moment's annoyance. "And then what? You wake up tomorrow, and don't have a damn idea who you are, what you're doing here, who any of us are. And you find out I'm a lapsed deacon who talks to angels. You really think you're going to talk to me again? Let alone your actual family? No. You'll think we're friggin' nuts." Which, objectively, Dean guessed was half the point. That didn't make it hurt any less.
"So, you wish me miserable so I will... speak to you?" Castiel said slowly.
It did sound a lot more awful, when he put it like that. "No," A lie, but it had the benefit of being what he was supposed to say.
"Then what Dean?"
"I wish your idea of happiness didn't have to do with writing all of us out of your life."
"Not you, Dean... It's only... all or nothing."
He nodded once, turning his attention back to the direction he was walking. "I know. I get it. Doesn't mean I gotta like it."
"I don't," he said softly.
"You don't what, Cas?"
"I don't like it."
"Then we find another way." Selfish? Maybe. But Dean was having enough trouble trying to deal with the hypothetical of losing the one person he actually trusted implicitly in Papillon. Dealing with the reality- especially knowing he would end up taking it upon himself to take care of Cas, anyway- might break him all over again.
"Dean... there is no 'we.' He stopped walking, standing in the middle of the block, holding a box of pizza.
He paused midstep, taking a deep breath. There was another pause where it seemed like Dean might say something, but he continued walking without comment, giving the building the usual cursory glance as he went inside. Cas would follow him, or continue gaping with his pizza. He apparently had nothing to do with it.
Castiel started walking again, his point made. He followed Dean into Anna's building, his sleeves already damp from the steaming box.