Color Me Descending

by Vampire Louis

In heaven there are two types of angels: those who were created from thought and spoken into existence, and those who were once human souls that ascended and forgot their humanity. Or in Castiel's case, almost forgot their humanity. Destiel

3. The Emerald City

Title: Color Me Descending

Co-Author: BlackFruitBat

Chapter: 3/?

Pairing: Eventual Dean/Cas

Rating: PG (eventually R?)

Spoilers: Just assume everything up to Season 5 episode 15.

Feedback: Please? We're big fans of it. Keeps us going _

Warnings: While the story is set in the SPN verse, it is ever so slightly AU as we are making up a background for Cas pre-show. It also deals with reincarnation/past life recognition ideas for the boys and their angel.

Authors Notes: Sorry this took so long to get out. Chapter 4 is already done and under final edits now, so, it will be out much sooner than this chapter was. We just ran into a lot of life problems (moving, school, sick etc..) and it slowed us down. Also I should make a big note that everything written after the boys leave the SAM was done by Blackfruitbat and all credit should go to her. With that said, on with the show!

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"Let's review."

"Tomorrow night you want me to go into the museum after hours, take the box, and bring it back here… how is this not stealing?"

"Because, Cas, we don't want to keep the box, just the thing inside it."

"So we're stealing the sacramental blade inside the box that we're not stealing."

"It'll only be stealing if we die before we kill Lucifer and return it." Dean argued, assuming the world didn't blow up before then.

"Dean. I don't understand how this isn't stealing."

"Come on Cas, you rebelled from heaven - Why the hang up on morality now?"

Castiel was starting to get irritated and Sam tuned in just in time to realize they were treading on very thin ice. Time to cut in and save them from breaking it.

"As soon as we have the blade we can tell if we need it or not. If not, we'll return it right away. If we do need it, we'll use it and if the museum is still around afterwards, we'll return it to the box." Sam was ever the pacifier and Dean was.. Well, Dean was just being Dean. Standing there grinning while Sam was pleading and Cas staring. Skeptically.

"So it's temporarily stealing."

"Borrowing," the brothers chimed in unison.

The angel remained unimpressed with their fallible logic but Sam could tell he was going to give. Cas always gave when they needed him to. Or, at least, when Dean needed him to.

The youngest Winchester wasn't as oblivious as he seemed sometimes. He simply couldn't afford to be anymore, and it kind of helped that the signs were plainly written on their faces. Cas was no longer just their (read: Dean's) angel, no longer just their back up, no longer just their friend. He was on the very edge of becoming family and that… that clearly terrified Dean.

Friends… family.. they were all liabilities and they all could be lost. While Dean and Sam were experienced in loosing loved ones, that didn't make their passing any less painful.

Cas was in deep now though and it didn't look like Dean was too keen on letting him go. Not that Sam's stubborn pig-headed dip of a brother would ever admit that, least of all to Cas, but Sam knew it to be truth and that was enough for him. Hell, he had already welcomed Cas with nearly open arms upon meeting him. If not simply because he was an angel but because he was the one who pulled Dean out of hell and returned him to Sam.

Rising to his feet, the youngest glanced out the window of their motel which was awkwardly placed next to a giant pink elephant car wash. A sigh escaped him because there were some things even he didn't understand about humanity, and giant pink elephant car wash signs was one of them.

"We should walk over now and scout the area, check out the box.. You know, the usual?" Sam knew they didn't actually need to investigate tonight because they were just going to send Cas in tomorrow, but this was one of the few times they got to stay in a major city and he wanted to look around. Couldn't hurt the other two to come along anyway.

"I don't know Sammy..." and there was Dean's usual protest.

"There's a strip club less than 2 blocks away."

Sam couldn't even feign surprise at the turn around in his brother's attitude when he mentioned the local talent.

"Sammy, I'm surprised at you! What kind of person do you think I am?" His mock horror had Sam rolling his eyes as he slipped on his coat.

"It's a 'Vu."

And Dean was out the door before he could say another word. With a very resigned noise of exasperation, he turned and looked at Mr. Socially Awkward who was still standing, well, awkwardly in their motel room.

"Come on Cas! We have some finer points of civilization to cover." Came the call from the parking lot.

Cas frowned, eyes drifting over to Sam. "He's not talking about the museum." It wasn't a question. Predictable as ever.

"Probably not." Sam ushered his friend out of the room and locked the door behind them. "After I drop Dean off, I was going to go site seeing. You could come if you want?"

Now there was a social dilemma Cas clearly did not know how to approach. Go somewhere he didn't want to because Dean was calling him, or do something he might like with Sam, who was not Dean. The youngest watched in almost sick fascination as the angel was forced to chose between brothers. Something told him this must have felt remarkably like a man forced into siding with his girlfriend or his friends.

Now that was an unnecessary mental image he could have lived without.

Cas eventually nodded to Sam as he passed by him and trailed after Dean who was aimlessly walking down a street he didn't know. It wasn't an "okay" or even a real answer, just a pseudo confirmation that he was considering the options. Sam didn't envy him even a little.

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"Do we really have to do this first?" Dean was not whining because Dean Winchester did NOT whine. Perhaps complain loudly and use a certain tone to emphasize said complaint -but that wasn't whining. Even if it was.

"If we do this first, you'll have more time for.. miscellaneous activities."

Now, see, if Sam had pointed that out, Dean would have made up a thousand different excuses as to why going later would be better and if Sam didn't agree he'd just be getting his panties in a bunch; however, since it was Cas saying it, suddenly actual thought had to go into a bit of the process. Shock me, shock me. Granted, it only gave them a second or two more of his silent contemplation before the grumbles rose again, but that was another story altogether.

In the end Sam weaseled all of them into the museum first after a solemn promise to pay for Dean's cover charge later. A small price to pay for broadening his brother's cultural experience -or lack thereof.

Quickly snagging a brochure (and bickering over directions), Team Free Will made their way up the stairs and around the corner to the special display set dedicated to Egyptian artifacts found in a more recent dig.

"There." Cas spotted the box first, not surprising, and Dean quickly followed after, also not surprising.

By the time Sam got over there, he could see a wrinkle in Cas' brow beginning to form a known expression of concentration or aggravation. The resulting head tilt informed Sam that the angel was unmistakably confused. See, he usually was looking at Dean when he did that and Sam couldn't blame him. Dean WAS a very confusing (and probably very bad) example of humanity

"This is old." The angel muttered.

"Thank You Captain. Do you have anything else for the crew of the obvious ship?"

Naturally, Cas ignored him. "It's a cursed box and it's much older than the artifacts around it. Looks like it was relocated to the tomb a long time after it was created."

"Well that makes sense," Sam came closer to the glass display, starring at all the items encased within. "They stored valuable items in tombs from all eras. Only question is, why a cursed lock box?"

As they all knew, the only reason someone would put a cursed box in a tomb was to keep anyone else from opening it. The wheels of thought clicked and turned inside Sam's head and he began to have second thoughts. They had to be careful. Really very careful, because he remembered the rabbit's foot and he really didn't want to lose any more shoes.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say we shouldn't open it until we know more about it." Obvious statements were obvious.

Apparently Dean agreed. "Good to see the crew is sticking together for the sake of the ship. And since we're still out to sea I'll add that once we have it, we can send pictures back to Bobby and see what he thinks."

Decisions made, place scouted and plans in place, it became obvious that Dean was done with being there. He punctuated this by the way he began to fidget in correlation with his rapidly growing disinterest. Sam knew it was mostly because these sorts of things (as in: museums, art galleries, science buildings… nerdy things in general except libraries because hot Librarians tended to be freaky in bed) were just not his style. Dean was more of a bars-and-pubs-and-clubs-with-the-occasional-seedy-motel-and-lounge type of guy. Anything more than that and he started to feel out of place like a mutt at a pure breed dog show.

So, being the benign brother that he was (read: getting bored of watching Dean fidget), Sam concluded they could leave with a sigh of exasperation and a "Okay, let's go…" escaping his lips.

"Great!" was the beamed response he was given, a sudden liveliness dancing in his brother's eyes. The older man then slapped a firm sort of pat down on Sam's shoulder, similar to how a father would applaud a son he was so very proud of. "To start, I think I saw a couple of bars we passed on the way here-"

"Dean..." Came the inevitable groan and eye roll with accompanying protest, "You want to drink now? It's only 2 in the afternoon."

Cas gave a mental nod, for he too thought that early consumption of alcohol would only lead to more trouble than good; although, he knew actually disagreeing with Dean's recreational activities would not exactly stop him from doing them.

"Sammy, Sammy," Dean merely grinned, "it's the perfect way to prep for the local female talent. Trust me, this I know for sure: Seattle doesn't have bars in their strip clubs. You have to take care of that yourself first."

Sam only managed yet another sigh- although he was a little surprised Dean took it upon himself to know what the drinking and strip club laws were in other states. Funny how he couldn't manage to stay awake long enough to research their next hunt online but when it came to these obscure laws no one else would have bothered with, he could research long enough to commit them to memory. Figures.

"Alright, we'll go to a bar. For a bit." His disgruntled expression only thickened as Dean celebrated like a ten-year-old who just got a bike for Christmas.

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During their short adventure of wandering around, Cas had come to the realization that while this city definitely had some unique individuals with an interesting way of dressing themselves, there was still a sense of calm and peacefulness drifting throughout the streets. It was not something he'd expected a city to feel like; yet, this tranquility was not long experienced while the boys traveled to Dean's anticipated destination.

The eldest Winchester had decided to "grab a few shots" (and by a few, he meant 7) to "nurture the soul before lovely ladies had the chance to," or so he so eloquently put it. Dean had wanted to share this nurturing as well, forcing shot number 4 on a very surprised Cas who mostly choked and sputtered on it after being suddenly assaulted with a windex-tasting liquid nearly poured on his face.

Dean, of course, hardly seemed to notice this in the middle of his festivities. Nor did he pay any mind to the fact that he was on the brink of stumbling- actually, no, clearly stumbling, by the time the three of them stepped up to the strip club's entrance. Yes, everything was fine and dandy until they noticed something amiss, Dean's smile from ear to ear vanishing almost immediately only to be replaced by a greatly perturbed "Dean face." The reason for his upset being what Cas was currently eying on the main door.

"Whaddya mean culosed!" The oldest brother looked as though he was pissed or about to faint from shock (What? These things were hard to tell sometimes).

Running his eyes over the sign again, Cas just blinked at Dean. "There's not much we can do, they don't open until 10pm," The older brother just thought that he was so matter-of-factly about a crisis that it was uncanny. Of course, this earned a noise from Dean that sounded greatly like a whine- but since he didn't whine, it could only be labeled as more of an irritated groan.

"That'sso ridiculous! I know... plenty ostrip clubs that areopen in theafternoon." Sam couldn't help being amused at these slurs, but Cas was more preoccupied with watching the other gesture by swinging his arms around, hand clenched in a fist of disapproval. He was going to hit someone unnecessarily at that rate and then they'd have another mess to clean up.

Noticing Dean wobble a little, Sam disguised his sudden support for helping him stand as a consoling pat on the back. "Well like it or not, that's how it is. In the mean time, we could instead go check out-"

"I'll find my own strippers!" Dean announced suddenly (read: loudly) breaking away from his brother, causing a few passersby to turn heads in their direction.

"How about we move," Sam started to suggest to, well, Cas, as Dean was already ten determined paces ahead of them. "We didn't even eat today, so maybe we could go get lunch?"

And Castiel would of agreed if it were not for his attention being taken by something far more pressing. Dean had reached the end of the block at this point, and apparently made a new friend: a brunette with long wavy hair, thick red hoop earrings, tall, TALL heels, and a certain taste for very short denim... garments. And of course, Dean was busy trying to covertly convince his new friend to be his stripper (just what did they put in that alcohol?). Cas had a sudden and pressing feeling that this may not be the best person to ask.

Sam followed the angel's gaze, blinked upon realizing what was happening, but instead of being alarmed like his brother's angel, he broke out into a painfully amused smile right before doubling over in laughter.

This was not helping.

Castiel briskly walked up to Dean just as he slurred, "Noreally, you are... SUCHapretty lady... how about you and me. Forget the boyfriend fora night and lemme showyou around."

"Dean."

"I bet you like strip clubs!"

"Dean."

"Imean, you are wearing shoes like theydo. Eh butyou're better than they are."

"Dean."

"C'mon let me showyou a good time. I know how to-"

"Dean."

"WHAT CAS?" the man exploded at once, sporting a small lack of volume control to say the least.

"You should realize that is a man."

Dean froze, clearly attempting to work through the alcohol before he gave up and laughed it off. "Nooooo, this is Candy. Candy an-I were just talking about whatare good strip clubsto go to that aren't closed!"

His new friend Candy only smiled, lips gleaming with what appeared to be quite a few coats of red lipstick.

Castiel lamented for small towns with less obscure complications.

"Dean, for your sake, you should realize that this isn't someone you would normally look for at your... strip clubs."

"Hey hun," piped Candy, in a masculine voice with a feminine twist that made Dean's eyes suddenly boggle. "I used to dance, don't knock it just because you don't like it. We don't play that way around here."

Spinning on heel with a glare in Cas' direction, "Candy" flipped her hair and marched off. Dean's momentary realization that he didn't exactly bat for Candy's team flew from his mind as he watched her miniskirt sway from right to left.

Castiel tilted his head in complete befuddlement but, nevertheless, cleared his throat. "We should go."

"She was totally into me. Thanks Cas." the inebriated one grumbled, seeming as though he completely forgot about what seemed a little off about his new female friend.

Sam, who had laughed until tears creeped into the corner of his eyes, finally joined up with the them at this point. He took the opportunity to consider but inevitably NOT point out that Dean must have some deep rooted attraction for men if he could profess his feelings to one easily, especially if he was only a bit intoxicated. "Let's get some lunch," he suggested instead to his comrades, one of whom was glaring death and the other who carried an unnerving frown.

A bus (because there was no parking to be found anywhere in downtown) and a few blocks of walking later, Dean was significantly less fuzzy about his perspectives and surroundings. Although he was still pleasantly buzzed and couldn't help wondering aloud why that man was wearing a leather vest and matching leather pants, awesome that those two girls were holding hands while they walked, and why were there were so many unsightly rainbows everywhere.

Cas remained quiet, and Sam came up with whatever he could to answer Dean's questions when he himself wasn't entirely sure why there was some sort of strappy thigh belt... device, hanging in the window they just passed. Or what exactly were those mannequins supposed to be doing. But one thing he was sure of was the magazine article he read in their motel room about fabulous places with fantastic food sure as hell left out any mention of where all these places were located.

While walking along and passing their umpteenth clothing store, they happened across a young man about Cas' height. He was blond, sporting a short bed head inspired haircut and dressed in a very flashy pinstripe pants, a tight white T-shirt with black decals swirling around in some sort of design, and black boots with a very pointed toe. He was setting up a shoe display outside of an odd looking building comprised of large windows, white columns, and blaring loud dance music to the passersby.

Castiel, being who he was, was perplexed by what the building's exact existence was for (shoes? music? it didn't make sense), and he slowed his pace in an attempt to study it. The angel's perplexity caught the attention of the man apparently called "Justin," as read by his name tag, who turned from his set-up and gaped at him.

"Sir? Sir!" He announced with some outrageous hand gestures as he approached the unsuspecting Castiel, "You are too gorgeous to be wearing that oversized trench coat! It doesn't show off your figure at all!" He stepped up quite close to Cas. In fact... Cas would have called it uncomfortably close if he had such a thing as a 'personal space bubble' (or so Dean would call it). "And I bet you have a good figure to show off much better things," Justin finished with a smile.

Cas just stared at him as though he was speaking another language, his silence not helping to stop Sam and Dean from continuing their wandering on ahead.

"If," Cas uneasily placed his words together carefully, "if you are referring to my clothes, they are just fine. Thank you." He hoped this would be enough to detour the young man into leaving him alone. However that proved to be moot as moments later his eyes widened as his wrist was suddenly gripped and he was dragged arm-first into the store, vanishing between the doorway and bold music into the shop labeled Panache. For a split second, he debated defending himself, although the other young man didn't exactly look strong nor appear evil and thusly smiting would be unjustified. Really an unfortunate thing.

"Now now," Justin remarked in a scolding tone, "we are having a huge end of the month sale right now, so I won't take no for an answer. 80% on everything but the pride items, since that's coming up," he nodded to a shelf they passed by which was covered with rainbow... everything. "And don't be nervous!" he laughed on, eyeing that Cas looked as though he wanted to vanish (literally) from sight. "You're in good hands. If you aren't used to shopping I can certainly help you pick out some fabulous things."

Castiel gave something that sounded like an acute muffled yelp of surprise when he found himself shoved in a changing room. Soon dress shirts, vests, t-shirts with designs, jeans, jackets, blues, blacks, whites, pinks, you name it, were bundled in his arms. "Give these a try," beamed the sales clerk, "I bet you will look excellent in all of them! You have a look that is very versatile, it'd be a shame to waste it."

The angel morosely looked down at the pile of clothing he held, then a little helplessly at the door. Best not to do something... Unexplainably alarming, like vanish, so he concluded that the only way to be free was to appease the young man of the store. With a heavy sigh, he started unbuttoning his trench. This shouldn't take too long.

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Not more than a few stores down at a window that displayed corsets, handcuffs, and leather pants, Dean was wondering aloud to Cas if the angels had some sort of handcuffs in heaven and if they used them to detain someone... or for recreational activities. When Cas was more silent than usual, he looked back and saw that the angel wasn't anywhere in sight. Normally this wouldn't call for any type of alarm except that he had made plans for that Holy tax accountant and having him vanish suddenly would ruin them all.

In a breath, his eyes became clearly focused, sobering up instantaneously, as a clear cut and serious tone sprang up in his voice.

"Sam! Cas isn't here."

Sam, who had been gawking at what appeared to be a fetish set (but could have just as easily been the shoes because this WAS Sam after all) , suddenly looked back at the empty spot where Cas was supposed to be, apprehensively looking around elsewhere as well. "What? Where did he go? When did he go?"

"Not sure," Dean stated, turning on heel and taking off at a jog, "but he couldn't have gotten far. We only passed a few stores since he was last here- Check those two there, and I have those other three." The brothers split up, feeling a little more worried about "who" may have happened to Cas instead of "what." Angels in gay fashion districts seemed like a recipe for disaster.

"How are you doing in there?" Justin questioned with a smile, organizing one the racks within hearing distance of the dressing rooms.

Only a few moments had passed and Cas was just barely finishing undoing the last button of his shirt, let alone making an attempt to try anything on except one pair of jeans that were... uncomfortably tight. "I need... more time," he managed, feeling almost... panicked? Just how quickly were people expected to put their clothes on? No wonder so many humans were so stressed all the time, being pressured like that.

Cas picked up the item that was laying on top of the clothing pile he had dropped on the floor. It was gray and black, with these odd little... diagonal zippers in a few places. He tried unzipping one, but it was only a few inches long and did not go anywhere or do anything. Brow furrowing in confusion, he unzipped the other, also having no avail. "What the..." Trying the buckles next, he found that these too were useless. Just what kind of clothes was he given? Why would someone put on a fastening device with no purpose? Where they even clothes?

"Excuse me," Cas called out, but no one answered except a quick pair of silent, hurried footsteps entering the store. Hearing nothing and unsure if the young man had left, Cas called out louder... feeling rather silly now that he had to ask for assistance. "Excuse me, I need … help!"

"CAS!" boomed an all too familiar voice and, before Cas knew it, there was Dean, who just rammed into the dressing room and broke down the door as he did so. Cas wasn't sure what to be more alarmed by, the fact that Dean just exploded through the door out of no where, or the fact that he unnecessarily damaged property in the process. He blinked at Dean, who straightened up and brushed wood chips and flecks of dry white paint off his clothes.

"Thank G-uh, I... I found you. Why are you here?" Dean breathed, his frantic state beginning to die down upon finding Cas safe unharmed. But then, much to Cas and Dean's surprise alike, a very red color welled up on Dean's cheeks as he looked down and realized the angel who was always swimming in a trench coat and suit was standing before him in nothing but a very tight pair of undone distressed jeans.

"Um-" was all Dean could bumble out, Cas just starting at him evenly and not noticing how Dean seemed to be getting frantic again. This was the first time Dean saw the angel without his usual attire, and much to his surprise his chest was deceivingly fit, which one would never guess thanks to all those layers and loose clothing. Dean wasn't sure if it was his posture, but the way he held himself also defined every muscle of his arms, chest, stomach... It caught his attention in a way that he just couldn't break from, staring unblinkingly at the shirtless Castiel.

"I'm sorry, I was dragged in here..." The abrupt voice broke Dean's trance in a way that made his heart jump. "He was persistent, and he told me to wear... this," Cas hung the shirt up in front of Dean's face, who only reddend more as he looked the zippery, strappy, suggestive looking shirt, imagining that Cas might actually look pretty good in tha-

"We're leaving!" Dean announced, grabbing the shirt and throwing it on the floor. "Put your clothes on Cas, we gotta go."

Stepping out of the broken door, they were greeted by Justin who looked a little surprised at seeing one of the doors mowed down. "Hmm," was all Justin said at first, and right when Dean was about to apologize he was surprisingly cut off with a laugh. "Don't worry about it, it's not like it's coming out of my salary," he grinned. "Besides, I know how those spats can be. When you want to make up nothing will stand in your way!" The wink he finished with earned all sorts of shades of red on Dean's face.

Why did they always assume?

"By the way," the clerk added as nonchalantly as possible, "if you are interested, we are having a sale today! 80% off, which it looks like you could use. It's not very flattering to be wearing jeans that are falling apart and a dead cow. Especially when you have someone so cute to impress." Justin nodded in the direction of the dressing room, that grin saying so much more than his mouth was.

Dean rubbed his face, hoping that the heat he felt emanating from it would start to go away before Cas finished getting dressed. "No thanks," he choked out, making his way to the door while taking out his phone to call Sam.

He never used to get this embarrassed over the commentary people made about him and Sam but.. This was different. At least with Sam he could clearly point out that he was his brother but Cas? Cas was his… friend. It wasn't so easy to brush off the allegations and even when he did, it started to make him wonder. Why did people suspect so much?

Cas finally emerged, dressed in his usual clothing which earned a small sad look from the salesman. "I'm sorry," the angel fumbled out, "but we need to go."

"I completely understand," Justin waved it off with a knowing grin. "These things happen, so you two can work it out." Cas had no idea what the young man was talking about, but took up the freedom to leave anyway, trailing after Dean to the outside of the store.

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"Okay, great, thank you!" A relieved smile beamed at the world as the younger Winchester jogged back to his not-so-patient company, the angel of the two looking like he was quite done with this day. They couldn't find the restaurant they were originally looking for, so Sam took it upon himself to ask the locals for some personal favorites.

"That guy over there said that there is a really good place that has amazing burgers, and it's just down the street." He nodded in said street's direction.

"Good," was all Dean could managed, lumbering off with the other two trailing behind him. At least there was some silver lining to this ridiculous day. After walking a few more blocks, they finally reached it and that silver lining was starting to look at little more like aluminum.

Dean and Cas stared, brows furrowed in part confusion and part disbelief.

The eldest Winchester cleared his throat. "This... is what they recommended to you?"

Sam nodded solemnly, a defeated sigh parting his lips because he was feeling as though he was a little at fault for the irony of this one.

"Jesus Sammy!" Dean barked, ignoring the dirty look Cas shot him. Blasphemies aside, the exasperation was called for. "Of ALL the places we have to wind up eating at tonight, it just has to be called Dick's."

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By the end of the whole day, only two were standing at the entrance of the strip club (which was now open because it was thankfully 10pm and time to get Dean's masculinity back). Sam had split ways after their meal: he apparently went off to entertain himself, partly because he didn't like strip clubs and partly because Dean had an odd feeling that he would somehow wind up professing his attraction to another man if his brother continued to stick around (and, yes, he was blaming it on his brother). At least, in this city -it had a weirdness to it that he couldn't shake.

However, in retrospect (and retrospect was always 20/20) with Sam gone, the commentary didn't exactly stop and the remarks of how Dean and Cas looked very suited for each other, by the small number of people they passed by on the way to the strip club, continued. This, naturally, made their entire time alone together rather awkward. Or at least for Dean. Cas being Cas probably didn't even notice.

"Come on." The more human of the two rolled his shoulders back and stepped into the first door. They were going to have a good time and that was that.

tbc