CHAPTER II: ROCK ME


In which there is everydays, personal hygiene and the flu.


Dean wakes up at nine, just in time to clean up himself up and get to the market on Downey Street. He needs more lemons for fancy drinks, and he's sensing that he'll need more pickles than are in stock. He dresses quickly in beige slacks and blue shirt, washes his face and drinks a glass of water. The hobo is asleep, lying still on the sofa like a dead man, with his hands crossed over his chest. Dean figures that it'll be okay to leave him there by himself for a little while.

The morning is fresh and cool. He's almost alone in the store, so picking out the lemons and jars of pickles is quick. Because he smiles so prettily at the young lady behind the counter, she lets him have previous day's newspaper for free. He whistles on his way back, Children of Zion by Blind Gary Davis. It's going to be a good day, he can feel it already. Cas is still asleep when he comes back.

Dean starts cleaning up the Roadhouse from last night, sweeping the floors, picking up dropped napkins, polishing the bar top, and so on.

At eleven, he climbs the stairs again and dresses for work. Dean takes care of his appearance and dresses up nicely before opening the bar. Ellen doesn't mind what he's wearing as long as he's all tidy, but he takes pride in looking good for the job. Every day he irons his shirts and pants, and makes damned sure his waistcoat haven't got any stains. When he's all dressed in brown pants, striped shirt and waistcoat, he whips out the brylcreem and starts working on his hair. Up and slightly side-ways, just like Dad used to.

"You look good," someone rasps from behind him. Dean jerks and almost messes up his hair.

"And don't I know it," Dean replies and fires off his patented heartbreaker smile into the mirror. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you for letting me sleep here and giving me dinner," Cas says. "I am very grateful. But I should probably go now."

"No! I mean, you don't have to. You can hang around for a little longer if you feel like it. Stay a couple of more hours, and there's lunch in it for you."

Cas stays.


It's a calm afternoon. It's burning hot outside, but in the bar it's cool. Dean's feeling shaky, like he's got a cold coming on. Some of the regulars come in as usual, there are some others who buy a beer, some pickles or a shot of bourbon, but that's it. Cas sits at the far end of the counter with his elbows on the top. He's mostly silent and just watches Dean work. Dean feeds him a sandwich at two o'clock, and expects him to leave soon after that, but he doesn't. Dean wonders how long he's going to stay like this, but he doesn't ask. It's strangely nice.

A man storms in at five sharp. He's got the strangest haircut in town and an absolutely filthy cover-all on. If Dean didn't know him, he'd call the asylum and make them pick up their latest escaped patient.

"Change the radio station right fucking now."

"Hello Ash, nice to see you Ash. Why, Ash, I'm fine today, how nice of you to ask. Would you like a beer, Ash?"

"Dean, I ain't kidding. Babe-fucking-Ruth and the Yankees are playing against the Athletics in two seconds." The man smirks and adds: "And I don't want a beer, I want two. And you better put som Jaeger in 'em too. You should know me better than that, son."

"I'm sorry I do." But Dean smiles and changes the station on the radio. The game has already begun.

Dean isn't particularly interested in baseball to be true. If there's any sport he's interested in it's boxing, but that kind of loses it's spark when you have to listen to it on the radio.

"Who is that?" Cas asks.

"Babe Ruth is the greatest baseball player in the history of the world. He's got the record with sixty homeruns in one year. The man's a living legend. How have you not heard of him?"

"No, I mean, who is that man?" He points at Ash.

"Oh, that's Ash. He's the mechanic in town. Ellen took care of him the way she took care of my brother and me. Results may vary, as you can see. But Ash's the local genius, so if you need anything at all repaired, you just go to him. But just because he's Mr. Einstein doesn't mean that he's not an asshole." Ash flips him off without turning around.

Cas doesn't listen to the game, at least it doesn't look like he does. Instead he sits still by the counter and watches Dean chop lemons and pour beer. It's strangely reassuring.


Cas is still there when it's closing time. He fell asleep sometime after eleven o'clock, and Dean didn't have the heart to wake him up. But he can't sleep at the counter the whole night, so Dean pats his shoulder until he stirs awake.

"Wakey-wakey, sunshine! You wanna move somewhere comfier for the night?"

Cas looks dazed for a while, smiling mildly at him in a way that makes Dean a bit weak at the knees, but sobers up pretty quickly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I'll go right n-"

"Why don't ya take out the trash for me?" Dean says. It's not really a question. "You can stay on the sofa one more night, no problem."

Closing up takes half the usual time when they're two. Cas doesn't only take out the trash, he helps sweeping the floors and washes dozens glasses. It's great to have some help, especially since Dean has started coughing and wondering if he doesn't have a fever after all. And he doesn't mind sharing the silent after-closing hour with Cas, since he shuts up. It's nice.

They brush their teeth together that night. Cas gets his own brand new tooth brush, because he doesn't have one. He says thank you so sincerely, Dean almost chokes on his toothpaste. If Dean throws another blanket over Cas when he is pretty sure the other man is asleep, there's nothing to it.


Dean coughs himself awake the next morning. His lungs feel raw, like they lost a fight with a lawnmower sometime during the night. But he'll feel better once he's had his cup of joe, he reasons.

Over breakfast, Dean's mouth-to-brain filter stops working, but for once he doesn't regret it. Cas woke up before him and made coffee and fried eggs sunny side up, just the way Dean likes them. He blames that for losing track on his tongue.

"So, Cas. I want to pay you for helping out last night. I'm thinking that maybe you could stick around and do that for a while?" he says. He hasn't given it much thought to be honest, but he knows he means it as he says it. Cas gets something holy in his eyes, like Dean just told him he was the good savior Jesus Christ.

"Thank you. Yes. I would like that."

Which brings Dean to point number two on his list. This one is not as spontanious, as it has been on top of his mind since he first laid eyes on Cas.

"Look, if you're going to stick around this joint for much longer, you've gotta wash up. I want you to pull yourself a bath, shave and put on some clean clothes. Okay?"

Cas looks like he's about to bitch along the lines of last morning, that Dean shouldn't do stuff like allowing him to have a nice day. Dean is having none of that and gives him the crazy eyes, the quickest way of telling someone to shut up and rethink their life choices.

"But I don't have any clothes except from the ones I'm wearing," Cas says lamely.

"I figured as much. Why don't you pick something from my drawers to wear while we have your stuff cleaned up?"

Cas finally nods, and there's that. Dean shoves him into the bathroom along with some clothes and tells him it's okay if he uses Dean's own straight-razor. Cas closes the bathroom door, but he doesn't lock it.

Dean finishes off his cup of coffee and listens to the shower going. He's not feeling too great today. The coffee didn't perform a miracle on him as he had hoped, so now he just have to pull it together to make it through the day. His hands are stupid and won't stop shaking. That's going to be a problem, he thinks.

Cas takes his sweet time in the shower, but when he steps out from the bathroom he looks like a brand new man. He looks younger when he's all tidy and clean-shaven. The borrowed shirt and pants are cut for someone taller with broader shoulders and hips than he has, but he looks better nonetheless. Dean's knee-jerk reaction is thinking he looks pretty. Because he does, in his own peculiar way.

"Lookit you, all nice and clean," Dean says and clears his throat. "Hey, will you help me with the dishes, and…?"

Then he stands up too quickly and the world spins and goes beige and fuzzy at the edges. Dean faints before he knows it.


When Dean wakes up again, he's laying on his own bed. He tries to sit up, but it's a bad decision. His head hurts like a bitch, so he's thinking he hit it when he fainted and fell down. He feels like throwing up. The shakiness is worse. Dean may be sitting down, but he feels wobbly. It isn't the hit to the head, he knows that, but it sure as hell doesn't help. He's taken enough hits to the head to know the difference.

"Dean," Cas says. Dean turns his head and finds himself staring straight into a pair blue eyes, way too close. Cas is sitting by his side, trying to push him back down to the sheets again. "Are you all right? You hit your head when you fell."

"'S'alright," he musters. "I just think I got the flu. I should… I should lay down now." He lets Cas pull up a blanket over him. He even puts a hand on Dean's forehead, like Ellen used to when he was a kid. His hand feels cool and dry. Cas looks worried.

"You have a fever."

"Yup," Dean says after a while. "Cas, you know what? Why don't you take care of the bar today? You know how to open and close up." He coughs, and it hurts bad. "All you have to do is to give people what they ask for. You gotta check that they have the money for what they order first though. Don't forget to lock the doors when everybody's out. It ain't that hard."

"Dean, are you sure? You hit your head badly. I should watch you, so you don't…" Cas sounds broken, like he's about to abandon his own kid, and Dean won't have any of that. It's very nice and all, having someone to care for you this much, but still.

"I'm positive Ellen will kill me if I kept the bar closed on a Friday night if I had perfectly capable workforce at hand," he wheezes. "Tell you what, I'll come down and check on you when I wake up. Is that alright with you? I'll kick your ass if you mess up."

Famous last words. Dean doesn't even hear Cas leave before he falls asleep.