Dean had been visiting the bar almost everyday for four months. He had good reason to, after all. Four months earlier, Castiel had lost his grace. Dean wasn't exactly sure how, but from that day onwards, Castiel had lost his memory of everything: Sam, the angels, everything supernatural. He'd forgotten Dean. So Dean had come to the bar everyday, trying to remind Castiel of who he really was. Dean was at least grateful that Castiel's name had stayed the same, rather than changing back to Jimmy.
It was another normal day. Dean ordered the same drink, he sat quietly sipping it while Castiel served other patrons, and later in the afternoon when business had died down, he and the angel - now a human - talked. Like ordinary people. Dean always felt a odd pain in his chest to hear Castiel speaking about things his angel self would never had understood, like television and sport.
But today was different. Today, Dean was going to try something new. After all, he and this 'new Castiel' had been friends for a couple of months now. They knew each other fairly well.
Dean put his drink to the side and beckoned at Castiel. The bartender finished pouring another customer's drink before going over to Dean.
"Want a refill?" he asked, gesturing at Dean's half empty glass. Dean shook his head.
"No, actually. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner?" he said. Castiel blinked at him. Seeing the man's obvious confusion, Dean continued. "I mean, my brother and his girlfriend were going out for dinner, to celebrate the anniversary of when they met. They invited me along but, you know, third wheeling can get kinda boring."
He looked up at Castiel, silently hopeful. The bartender sighed and smiled slightly.
"I'm available at seven," he told Dean. Dean nodded quickly, relieved.
"You want me to pick you up then?" he asked slowly. "Dress smartly, it's at a damn fancy restaurant."
Castiel nodded, grabbing a napkin and scribbling his address on it. Dean grabbed the napkin and winked automatically. At Castiel's slightly alarmed look, Dean swiftly exited the bar. He didn't want to explain why he'd winked. He just hoped Cas would have forgotten by seven.
Time flew by for Dean. It was quarter to seven and he was wearing a dark suit with a stripy tie. Standing before the bathroom mirror, he stared at his reflection. He wondered how Castiel would be. He wondered if anything would change.
Pushing those thoughts away, Dean went and checked the address. Not too far away; he could probably drive it in ten minutes. He got into his glossy black Impala, recalling the last time Cas had been in it. A long time ago, it seemed. He drove in silence to Cas' address. Upon reaching the house, Dean hesitated before ringing the doorbell.
The door promptly opened and Castiel was stood there, smartly dressed and looking expectantly up at Dean. Dean stopped and looked at Castiel. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Castiel looked past Dean.
"Is that your car?" he asked, pointing at the Impala. Dean nodded, smiling. Castiel said, "Wow, she's a beauty," as he approached the car.
"Yeah, she's a classic. '67 Chevrolet Impala," Dean said to him. Castiel looked over.
"You've taken good care of her. Great work."
Dean opened the passenger side door for him and Castiel climbed in, almost hitting his head on the low ceiling. Dean climbed in behind the wheel.
"Let's go," he said shortly, revving up the engine.
