WHO: Sam Winchester + Cas WHEN: Evening, August 17 WHERE: Cas and Dean's apartment WHAT: Cas shows Sam around the new place while Dean's not there, and Sam has some concerns about the current situation. WARNINGS: This is inevitably going to have a discussion about Cas's rampant drug use.
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Cas had lived in a lot of places in the last five years.
He'd stayed in abandoned suburban homes and motel rooms, he'd spent nights in the backseat of Dean's car. He'd slept in military bunkers and tents, in hovels and shacks. He'd gone for days without a bed or a roof, and he knew how to survive on next to nothing. His needs weren't great, but his desires were many -- but he was used to not being able to indulge in an extravagant lifestyle. He found decadence in other things: in sex, in drugs, in the occasional really good food or liquor. Housing had never been good until they'd setted at Camp Chitaqua, and even then they really didn't have much by way of plumbing, and no heat other than the warmth of fires.
So this place wasn't the worst place he'd ever lived. It was above a Chinese restaurant, accessible only by fire escape or by going in through the restaurant itself, heading into the kitchen, and going up a narrow flight of stairs. That led to a narrow hall, with four small apartments. Cas and Dean lived in the second door on the right (and the door was barely on its hinges).
The apartment smelled like weed and incense (and sex? maybe, who knew). The floorboards were splintery and covered with grass mats to make up for it, and there was a sunken, dirty couch in the middle of the living room -- which also doubled as a kitchen, with a stove and an avocado-colored fridge and a counter with some drawers up against one wall. There was evidence of a fire around the stove. The living room window had a hole in it; it was sealed with plastic wrap and duct tape.
There were two doors leading off to the left, one into a bedroom and the other leading into the tiniest bathroom possible, lit with a flickering bare bulb that Cas had forgotten to shut off.
"So this is it," said Cas with a smile -- and he actually sounded kind of proud. He'd decorated, with the mats on the ground and there seemed to be a little altar for meditation off in one corner, and a few fabric wall hangings from a Tibetan merchant at a flea market.
He slipped his shoes off and walked barefoot to the couch, flopping down on it with a contented, heavy sigh. "You want anything? Beer, Coke ... coke, leftover pasta?"