Disclaimer and A/N: I have not copyrighted any part of this story. Any copyrighted material does not belong to me. I am the author of this fanfiction. It was beta'd by Stitchpunk, whose account can be found at .net/u/1497997/ and I am eternally grateful to her for making this piece of something or other readable in any sense of the word. Believe me-it was in chat format, I literally forgot what an apostrophe even WAS, and she had to add in something like a dozen commas. That being said, my spelling was pretty good. Can you tell that she's the one writing this A/N? However, she is completely sure that these are my sentiments exactly, and therefore took the initiative to write this out for me. And she is right.
ON WITH THE STORY.
The moon was full in the night sky and perfectly silhouetted Cas, who was gazing up into a single streetlamp, his face illuminated by its light. His phone rang.
"Hello?" Cas asked before pausing briefly. "Actually I am not currently in possession of a refrigerator. I am, however, acquainted with someone who is. And it is, as far as I am aware, functioning at full operational capacity. You see he uses it to..." He paused while the person on the other end spoke. "What? Yes. Yes, his refrigerator is running." His eyes narrowed. "Who is this?
At the other end of the call was a musty room full of teenagers who were crowded around one skater-punk-looking boy with a cell phone.
"Then you better CATCH IT!" Danny yelled and the room burst into laughter, his friends giving him pats on the back as he hung up the phone, taking a swig out of a bottle of liquor.
Travis laughed, completely intoxicated. "Dude, Danny, that was epic. Let's do another!"
"Ha, aight, Travis, lemme just-...Oh, wait a sec...Dude's calling me back," Danny said, putting the phone back to his ear. "Heh heh...Hello?"
Cas was still standing underneath the streetlamp.
"It would seem there was a slight miscommunication during the course of our earlier correspondence. I was under the impression that your inquiry was in regard to the operational status of my acquaintance's kitchen appliance," said the angel. "...Would I be correct in assuming that your query was more in regard to whether or not the device in question was both sentient and mobile?"
Laughter sounded throughout the room, but began to whither so the boys could listen in.
Danny elbowed Travis as he spoke. "Haha, look man we were just..."
Suddenly Cas was behind Danny, his voice lowered to a threatening pitch. "What form of witchcraft are you and your underaged companions practicing?"
Danny wheeled around to face him. "Holy shit! L-...look man I didn't mean any-...I mean, how did you-..."
The group of friends stared at Cas through various stages of drunken and drug-induced stupor.
Cas raised a hand and an invisible force slammed Danny back into a chair. "Who are you working for?" he demanded.
Danny was trembling as he struggled against the invisible restraint. "L-...look man...I won't call the cops if you just-..."
"This is going to sting a bit," Cas said flatly before reaching his hand into Danny's chest, sending waves of amber light through Danny's body. Danny screamed in agony as his friends rose to try and help him only to be pushed back by an invisible force into the wall that pinned them there. Cas looked off into space as though observing and contemplating.
After what seemed like an eternity, Cas withdrew his hand and Danny fell over into a fetal position on the floor, sobbing and begging while his friends stared at Cas in sheer terror, some of them with tears in their eyes.
Cas stood over Danny, silent for a moment before speaking. "...You masturbate with deviant frequency." He paused, looking up as though deep in intense thought."...And who is Justin Beiber?" His head snapped over to Danny's cowering friends. "So, who's next?" Eyes skimming the frightened group, he settled on one individual. Cas made a 'knife hand' gesture towards him. "You."
Meanwhile, Dean Winchester was drinking a beer and watching TV. His phone rang.
"Hello?" he asked, pausing briefly for the voice at the other end. "Woah, woah, Cas, slow down man." He waited as the angel explained what was happening. "Justin Beiber? Cas, no, he's a singer...ish. Dude...where the hell are you?" he asked and waited again for Cas to try and explain himself. "They asked what? My refrigerator?" An ashamed look spread over Dean's face as he listened. "Oh, Jesus, Cas, no, that's-..." The angel kept speaking. "No, Cas, listen to me, leave the kids alone. Get over here."
Cas immediately appeared before him. "Hello, Dean."
"Cas...we have some things to talk about," Dean said.
A while later...
"Crank call?" Cas asked his charge, sitting across from Dean and looking down contemplatively.
"Cas..." Dean started, searching for words and rubbing his face with his hand, exhausted. "Yes, Cas," he ended up with.
"Dean, I had no way of knowing..." Cas said almost apologetically.
"Just-...yeah...just-..." Dean said, head down, motioning haphazardly toward the door. "Just go."
Cas made a quizzical, intensely thoughtful expression, and Dean was suddenly alone.
Much later...
Dean was in bed sleeping. The bedside digital clock read '4:00am'. His phone rang.
Dean, bleary eyed and rubbing his face, reached for the cell. "...Hello?" he asked without checking the caller ID.
"Dean. Is your refrigerator currently serving its proper function?" came Cas' voice.
Dean sighed and clenched his jaw, speaking slowly. "Do you mean, 'Is my refrigerator running?'" he asked tiredly, though not entirely due to sleepiness.
"Yes."
"Yes, Cas, my refrigerator is running," Dean indulged him. There was a long, pregnant silence. "...I guess I better go catch it."
"Yes."
"Goodnight, Cas," the hunter said and hung up.
Cas hung up his phone after he heard the click and cocked his head, furrowing his brow. With a single, purposeful nod, he said, "Oddly exhilarating," and walked away.