There was something innately peaceful and serene about the way that Dean Winchester slept. This wasn't the first time that Castiel found himself sitting in a dimly lit, swanky motel room, half-expecting the walls to cave in around them at any moment. The loud clicking of fingers pounding against the keys was heard on the opposite side.
Castiel had learned from his charge that this gap in between was their 'down time,' though Sam's face remained illuminated by the ghastly glow of the computer screen for hours. He never stopped researching, it seemed.
Their latest case wasn't a demon, or a sign of the apocalypse. No one was possessed, unless you counted his vessel, but even then he was a willing participant in all of this. So it doesn't really count. Their main objective as of late was making him, shall we say, current.
Eventually Castiel grew tired from watching Dean and reappeared beside the younger Winchester, whose facial expressions weren't nearly as amusing as when he interfered with his 'personal space.' Castiel still didn't understand that concept.
"Have you found another case?" the angel asked, furrowing his brows as he looked at the screen. "On… Facebook?"
Sam merely snorted, while Dean slowly cracked open one eye in their direction while he learned back on his entwined hands resting behind his head. "No, that's one of Sam's porn sites," the eldest chuckled, his tone slightly deeper and thick with sleep. Dean was pretty sure that Sam turned at least four shades of red…
Heh, maybe even five.
Castiel gave them each a blank stare in turn, before repeating, "Porn sites?"
The Winchesters exchanged smirks, before they burst out into laughter. "Dean, Myspace was not a porn site. Neither is Facebook. They're social networking sites," Sam explained in a matter of factly way. This time, Dean stretched his arms over his head and moved to stand on the other side of his brother, all three of them flanking the computer now.
"Uh huh," Dean mumbled slowly in a skeptic manner, before staring straight at the screen in disbelief. "So you expect me to believe that you have nearly 200 friends? Come on, Sammy. You can barely flirt with the cougar waitress on 4th."
Castiel's gaze remained transfixed on the screen, blinking when a small red box suddenly appeared on the upper left side. "It looks like you have an exorcism pending," Castiel informed them in his deep, smooth monotone voice while a small, but awkward smile crossed his lips.
Dean laughed, tossing the angel a bemused look. "Cas made a funny. I knew you had it in you," he said in approval with a thumbs up sign and a supportive shoulder squeeze, to which Castiel shifted uncomfortably in his never ending confusion.
"Technically, I'm inhabiting a vessel… and your notion of comedic relief remains a mystery to me, Dean."
Sam minimized the page and turned to them, not amused by their scrutiny of the small—and possibly only—shred of a normal life that he had left. "I just joined last week, what do you expect? They're some old friends from college," he paused to swallow the lump in his throat, before continuing, "and some people that knew Jess." Even after all of this time, his significant loss still affected him every now and then.
There was silence floating in the air between them. Dean let out a small sigh, before retreating back to his bed and grabbing the remote. Maybe they'd have some Casa Erotica on tonight.
Sam maximized his window again, fully aware that Cas was still standing behind him. "Do you want to see how it works?" he offered after he shook his hair out of his hazel eyes; the same ones that the angel could see a hint of amusement lurking behind.
"It's not going to benefit your hunting skills. It lacks a purpose," Castiel pointed out, glancing over at Dean and a few dirty magazines resting by his feet. On the box they called a television, the humans were standing in some rather… compromising positions, to say the least. Seeing that his choices were limited, he relented. "Okay."
Sam was a little surprised when the stickler gave in so easily, moving aside a little to make room for Cas to pull up a chair beside him. "All you really need to sign up is an email and your name." The angel gave Sam a pointed look, to which the Winchester's lips parted into an o-shape at the realization.
"Right, you don't have an email address up there… but given how hard it is to reach you guys sometimes, you might want to reconsider."
A beat passed.
"No? Alright," Sam continued, before a snicker that came from Dean's side of the room interrupted him.
"Dude, I got it! Halo patrol at sons of bitches dot com," Dean remarked with one of those cheeky accomplished grins, though Castiel couldn't find the humor in his words. Then again, maybe he simply didn't want to. It was hard to tell the difference with the stoic, heavenly being.
Sam shook his head in dismissal, before looking back to their holy roadie. "Umm, do you even have a last name?" he asked in curiosity, although he was pretty sure of the answer already.
Castiel simply shook his head, before responding with, "You don't really need a full name as an angel."
Dean immediately opened his mouth to say something, but Sam gave him a firm look of discouragement and he mumbled something about being an only child.
"What are the red boxes?"
"Those are notifications, sort of like—"
"The voice on the phone that says you're running out of minutes," Cas finished grimly with furrowed brows, obviously still holding a grudge against technology or just automated machines in general.
Sam couldn't help but chuckle, before reaching up to scratch the back of his head contemplatively. "Uhh, sort of… yeah, I guess. Right, Dean?" He looked over to his older brother for comfirmation on the analogy, only to find the clearly more immature Winchester holding a pillow over his face to muffle his laughter.
Castiel tilted his head at this odd display, before the lights started to flicker and went off completely. The boys immediately went for their guns or the closest weapon to them, but when the lights came back on, they were alone. Their party of three had, in fact, been reduced to two.
"Think we pissed him off?" Dean asked sarcastically with a lopsided grin.
Sam put his hands up in the air in a surrender motion, before countering, "We? Hey man, it was all you."
Dean shrugged his broad shoulders, feeling pleased that at least he would be able to watch TV in peace. Picking up the TV guide and flicking through it, his eyes lit up at the late night rerun of Casa Erotica on pay per view. He fumbled around the sheets for the remote to turn it back on, letting out an "aha!" of triumph as he turned the television back on. But this time, all he got was static. Dean tossed his head back and glanced up towards the ceiling.
"Oh, come on!"
