Fandom Supernatural
Character(s)/Pairing(s) Castiel, Dean, Sam; Cas/Dean
Genre Drama/Future!fic/Romance (sort of)/Slash
Rating PG
Word Count 946
Disclaimer Supernatural c. Kripke, CW, WB
Summary Castiel appears before Dean after a long absence before beginning another in a snow-filled parking lot.
Warning(s) spoilers up through season six episode twenty-two
Notes I just had this image in my head and had to get it out.
What's Down
It was winter in small town Indiana. Six inches of snow covered the ground and still more fell around them. The motel had a draft, but Sam and Dean were lying low with Ben, who joined them after he regained his memory. A demon ate Lisa a month before Ben got back in contact with them. The three were concentrating on surviving more than hunting currently. About the same time Ben contacted Dean, Castiel stopped harassing the Winchester brothers with his soul driven powers. One time Sam suggested maybe Castiel had died, but never suggested it again. However, when Dean went outside to take a breather while Sam and Ben slept, he saw Castiel standing in the middle of the snow-filled parking lot. Castiel's hair was browner than black now and his eyes were now a dull blue instead of the bright blue Dean knew. Dean's mouth opened and closed and he stopped in his tracks.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel greeted him. He wore a black trench coat with a dress shirt and jeans underneath. The clothes were clean but rumpled. He lowered his eyes and then looked back up at Dean's face.
"If you're here to make me bow," Dean found his voice, "I'm not bowing."
"I know," Castiel said. "I'm not God anymore." He took a breath looked down at his feet. "I never was."
Dean put his hands in his pockets. The temperature was dropping. "I'd offer a beer from the back, but…"
"I'll take one," Castiel answered. "I'm not an angel anymore either."
The beer was cold from sitting in the car. Dean brushed off the hood and the pair sat on the Impala. It was freezing but Dean was not ready to let Castiel into the two adjoined rooms he rented out yet. Dean twisted his cap off his beer and took a swig. Castiel tried to twist his cap off but it hurt his hand. He carefully put the cap along his teeth and pried it off. Castiel spit the cap off into the snow and took a long drink of his beer. "I don't plan to stay."
Dean's head turned to Castiel mid-drink. He lowered the bottle from his lips.
"I saw the Impala," Castiel continued, "thought I'd," he paused to think of the right phrase, "say 'what's down.'"
"It's supposed to snow ten inches tonight," Dean said and ignored Castiel's mistake. "If you don't have your angel mojo –"
"I'll be fine." Castiel drank more of his beer. "This isn't the first snow storm I've been in. I just…" his voice trailed and he looked to his beer bottle and hunched his shoulders forward. He shook his head and a small smile played onto his lips. "You don't want to hear this."
Dean leaned back and set his beer on the hood in a place it could balance while Dean put his hands back in his pockets to warm them. "I should kick your ass." He could feel Castiel's eyes on him. Then Dean reached out and grabbed Castiel's arm when the fallen angel tried to slide off the Impala's hood to stand up. "I'm not going to." He caught Castiel's gaze and held it. "But I should."
Castiel looked down at the hand on his arm. "I've got things I have to do." He ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. "I have one of those phones again. That voice hasn't come on to tell me I've run out of minutes."
Dean let go of Castiel's arm. "You've got my number." His face morphed into disappointment but with a blink, he schooled his features into something more neutral.
Castiel shifted his weight and studied Dean. "I'll see you later." Then he leaned over and his lips pressed to Dean's mouth, mimicking a kiss from a black and white movie. Dean almost pulled back but pressed forward, tilting his head. Castiel's fingers glided through Dean's hair before grabbing a fistful with his freehand. Dean's beer bottle rolled off the hood of the car and landed in the snow. Dean pulled back.
Castiel rested his forehead against Dean's and closed his eyes briefly before opening them. He moved away and slid off the hood of the Impala. "I want to see things. Do things. You have things you have to do still."
"Yeah." Dean slid off the hood and put his hands back in his pockets.
Castiel retrieved his phone from his pocket. He held it up so Dean could see the screen when the phone turned on. "My number."
Dean watched the number flash on and off the screen. "555-2…"
Castiel turned the phone off and back on again. "174," he recited when the number flashed on the screen again.
Dean's phone was in one of the motel rooms charging on a nightstand. He mouthed the numbers and nodded. "Got it. 555-2174."
Castiel reached out to touch Dean's shoulder than thought better of himself and started to walk away. "Goodnight, Dean."
Dean watched Castiel leave through the gathering snow. Once Castiel was gone, he took a deep breath and asked, "How long have you been staring?"
"I just stepped out," Sam said from behind Dean in the doorway of the room next to the one where Ben slept with the inside doors between the rooms open. "You've been out here a long time, Dean. You're going to get frostbite."
Dean turned towards Sam. He reached down, picked up the beer bottle out of the snow, and chucked it in a nearby bin. "You saw nothing." He paused and stated firmly, "Nothing."
"Of course not," Sam snorted. He followed Dean back into the motel, shut, and locked the door.
The End