A/N: Let's just explain a couple of things here. 1) I have this miraculous ability of having written while having seen almost nothing of Supernatural (except for season 9 cause I'm all caught up on that). 2) Basically any interpretation I've put down here I've gotten from fanfiction and Tumblr. 3) First Supernatural thing posted here. Thank God for Tumblr.
Anywho, any feedback on this one'd be good because this thing was floating around on Tumblr and then it turned into a Casablanca thing.
UPDATE 8/7/14: I changed the chapter title from "Literally Running In" to "I Ran (So Far Away)" by A Flock of Seagulls.
"My brother's coming into town."
Castiel Novak looked up from where he was cleaning glasses. "Isn't that a good thing?" He spun the glass with one hand, the other holding the rag he was cleaning it with.
Sam Winchester smiled sadly at the glass in his hands. "Not with Dean. He's always in some kind of trouble – or some kind of trouble's following him." Castiel nodded understandingly, refilling Sam's drink with his free hand, the other putting away the glass before resting on the bar. "Bobby, Bobby Singer – he told me on my way over here."
Absentmindedly, Castiel nodded again before something the younger Winchester had said caught his attention. "Dean?" Sam nodded, staring into his drink. The bartender paused for a long moment before resting both of his hands on the bar. "I knew a guy named Dean once."
"Really?" That had perked the young lawyer up.
The ghost of a smile passed over Castiel's face. "Yes. We were very close at one point." The bartender's mind started drifting, back to when it had all started when he realized Sam was still looking at him expectantly. "It is of no importance now," Castiel said quickly, pulling out a dirty glass and beginning to clean it with his rag.
Suddenly, the sounds of someone being chased could be heard through the bar's open doors. The sweltering summer hit Sam and Castiel as they quickly abandoned their spots at the bar in favor of looking outside to see who was being chased. "Damn mobsters," Sam muttered under his breath, earning a nod from Castiel. As the chase came closer to Castiel's bar, the brunette noticed his customer automatically reaching for the gun at his side...which he no longer carried. The figure being chased suddenly rammed into Sam, forcing both of them farther into the bar, knocking a table over in the process. Castiel's entire stance changed as he moved to fill his doorway, preventing the mobsters from entering and most likely killing whoever was now laying on the floor of his bar. Seconds after Castiel had re-adjusted himself, the mobsters appeared at the door.
"Move," the thug in the front of the pack demanded, his hand already resting on his weapon.
In the seven or so seconds it had taken Castiel to take his current position, his entire demeanor had become cold and hard, ready to withstand whatever these idiot mobsters had to offer. "No," he said, otherwise not moving a muscle. Some of the minion mobsters behind their leader began to get the idea, slowly inching away inconspicuously. Upset and impatient, the head mobster there moved to go around Castiel. The brunette held an arm out to stop him, not flinching when he felt the cold metal rest against the inside of his arm. "I'm not going to move," he stated, "until you and your boys leave my place and never come within then feet of it ever again."
The mobster grinned darkly, going toe to toe with Castiel. "Do you have any idea of who I am?" His eyes glinted dangerously, never shying away from the bartender's.
Castiel half-smiled, making a chill run down the leader's spine. "I believe you do not know who I am." He took a moment to be dramatic, blue eyes flickering over the group before returning to the man in front of him. "You are part of Crowley's group." His voice lowered to a raspy dark whisper. "I can end your lives without even lifting a finger." The dark brunette looked over the group again, internally nodding at the terrified faces looking back at him. "Now," he began. "Leave." Within fifteen seconds, the street in front of Castiel's bar was empty. The bartender allowed himself a moment to breathe before closing his doors and hanging up his CLOSED sigh. Castiel then walked to where Sam and the mystery man were. Carefully, he shook the younger Winchester's shoulder, painfully aware that the sheer force of them landing on the hard floor probably knocked them both out.
Apparently Sam was in better condition than he though, surprising him by slowly blinking his eyes. "Castiel? What happened?" He attempted to sit up, groaning as he did.
"You were run into and knocked over by the man whom we heard being chased around."
Sam groaned again, this time finding his feet. "Yeah well, I think I figured out who that guy was." He huffed out a sigh, looking down at the unconscious figure. "Hey, Castiel, can he stay here? I mean, I seriously doubt he'll be able to get out to his hotel in this state."
Castiel nodded. "Is he trustworthy?" He carefully eyed the unconscious man.
With a laugh, Sam nodded. "He's my brother." The bartender nodded again, this time understandingly. There had been a time once where Castiel would have trusted his family to Hell and back. Nowadays, he was reasonably sure they'd kill him if they even saw him. Sam pulled him out of his thoughts. "I can carry him wherever you're letting him stay."
"Yes." Castiel began leading Sam to the only bedroom in the bar. "He may stay in here for the evening." He looked back at Sam, who had a curious expression on his face before he decided it wasn't worth being rude.
Five minutes later, the two of them were at the bar again. "So, this guy you knew." Sam segued after a long round of silence. "What made him memorable?" Confused, Castiel cocked his head to the side slightly, making Sam huff out a laugh. "I mean, you've probably met dozens of people in your life. What makes this guy – Dean – so memorable?"
A smile ghosted over Castiel's face again. "He pulled me out of a very dark time in my life and put me on the correct path as payment for saving his life." He caught the confused look on Sam's face. "I was in the same groups as those mobsters we saw earlier. It is not a particularly fond time of my life." Castiel stood up straight, obviously about to change topics. "Will you be staying to watch over your brother?"
Sam shook his head. "Nah. I trust you to watch over my big brother, Castiel. I know you don't get much sleep, and honestly I'm exhausted." He stood, pulling his suit jacket back on. "I'll come by tomorrow to check on the two of you though. See ya tomorrow." With a wave, Sam left.
Castiel sighed before downing a shot of whiskey that practically burned his throat. "Dean Winchester, huh?"
There was a vague shuffling noise and a clatter from the direction of his bedroom. Castiel quickly capped the bottle and put it away. Before he finished, he heard a wry chuckle. "So, this is what you decided to do with yourself?"
That was not possible. That was so very not possible. He'd looked at him earlier. There was no way... "Dean?" Castiel found himself turning to look at the man, hope rising in his chest.
Dean Winchester smiled back at him. "Hey Cas. Long time no see."
A/N: So? Hate me for it? Love it? I've actually gotten the majority of the second chapter written if anyone's interested...