To Live Is To Fly
It wasn't long before three slices of pie had been consumed and four cups of coffee had been finished. Susie came back to take their bowls away and laughed when Sam told her that he agreed that the pie was delicious.
"If the FBI ever needs a caterer…"
Dean smiled at the thought. "I'll have a chat with our supervisor." he looked at the time as Susie walked off. "Right. I figure we can get a good six hours driving in before we stop for the night. There's no way I can put up with you lot for that long though, so we'll have a break after a few hours and Sam can take over driving."
"Stop for the night?"
Dean looked at Crowley. "Yes. Some of us need sleep, even if only for a few hours. We can't all be angels or demons."
"Well, you could…"
Dean glared. "You shut your damn mouth. One more comment like that and you'll be spending the next six hours in the trunk."
Crowley pretended to zip his lips. Sam ignored him, instead pulling out his wallet to pay the bill. He did a double take, then chuckled to himself.
"I think Susie likes us. She's only charged us for my salad, one slice of pie and the four coffees." he squinted at the bottom of the piece of paper and grinned. "Oh, hang on. Turns out Susie likes you." he pointed to Dean and Cas simultaneously. "I'm almost offended."
"What?" Dean tried to snatch the receipt off his brother, but Sam held it out of his reach and began to read.
" 'It's been a long time since I met such an adorable couple who liked my pie so much - the last ones were my parents - so your three helpings are free. You two are an inspiration, proving that nothing gets in the way of love and that workplace romances can work. Come back any time for a slice of pie.' "
"She… She can't!" Dean spluttered. "She didn't! She never said that." he grabbed the paper and read it himself. "What the hell. Seriously, what the hell." he stared at the receipt in disbelief, refusing to look at Cas. Then Crowley started laughing, quietly at first but gradually getting louder. Dean crushed the note in his fist and looked at Crowley with hatred. "Right. That's it. You're going in the trunk."
"And yet, somehow, still worth it."
If Crowley had been sat in a more convenient place, Dean would have punched him. As it was, he settled for giving Sam, who'd also started laughing quietly, a clip round the ear. Sam stopped laughing, and had the decency to look slightly abashed. Dean stood up, still unable to look straight at Cas, and walked out of the diner. Almost reflexively, he uncrumpled the receipt and tucked it into his pocket, next to his FBI badge. He turned as the diner door opened and Sam and Crowley emerged.
"Where's Cas?"
Sam shrugged. "He said he had to get something. I'm sure he'll only be a couple of minutes."
Dean closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, then threw Sam the car keys. "Put Crowley in the trunk. I'll go get the little nerd to hurry up." Ignoring Crowley's facial expression, he turned to head into the diner again. He opened the doors and looked around briefly. Where the hell was Cas? A prickle on the back of his neck made him turn around. He nearly jumped out of his skin seeing Cas there, less than a foot away. "Damnit Cas!" he groaned. "I thought we agreed - no using your angel juice unless absolutely necessary!"
Cas' face fell. "I'm sorry, Dean. There was something I needed to get, and I felt it would be quicker if I flew." his head tilted towards the ground, but he looked up at Dean nervously.
All Dean did was glance at Cas and he began to feel guilty. He spotted a sheet of paper in Cas' hand and focused on that instead. "What were you getting?"
If anything, Cas looked even more nervous, but he handed the paper over to Dean.
"Is this Susie's apple pie recipe?" Dean tried to sound disapproving, but couldn't hide a smile. "You stole it?"
"Copied it." Cas admitted.
Dean shook his head and snorted. He looked at Cas fondly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Want me to look after it for you? I wouldn't want it getting lost before you've made me a pie, and you do have a habit of trashing your trenchcoats."
Cas nodded, slightly embarrassed. Dean folded up the recipe, tucked it in his pocket, and the two of them headed off to the car to find Sam. He was leaning against the impala, waiting for them.
"Crowley's shut in the trunk. Didn't even put up a fight, which worries me. I thought I'd have a kip while you drive though, let Cas have shotgun."
"You don't have to do that."
"Cas, it's fine." Sam insisted. "I need some shut eye if I'm being trusted to drive later. If I crashed her, he'd kill me."
Dean nodded. "Yup. Glad you understand the rules, Sammy."
Sam smirked. "I wouldn't have got far if I didn't, would I."
"You'd have made it six feet under…"
The pair of them laughed. Cas hesitated before joining in. The Winchesters might be comfortable joking about their own demises, but he wasn't, not completely. They died frequently enough that he didn't find it amusing. Sam and Dean were still laughing when the three of them got in the car. Sam lay back, having to curl up slightly to fit led down on the back seat, and put his jacket over his face to block out the sunlight.
"Wake me up when you want me to take over driving." Sam said. Despite the coffees, hours of sleep deprivation finally took over. He was asleep in the space of ten minutes. Up until then there'd been silence in the front seats but Dean heard his brother snoring quietly and glanced back.
"Aww, just look at him. Sleeping like a baby." he realised that Cas was frowning, apparently having taken his words literally. "I didn't mean… I just meant that it's nice to see him getting some sleep. I am aware that my brother is much too big to be considered a baby. Except by me when he's asleep or being a wuss."
Cas nodded seriously. "I...think I understand."
There was a pause.
"So Cas." Dean began, trying to fill the silence (they'd left the music off so Sam could sleep). "How have you been doing?"
Cas was about to reply, when he realised that he wasn't sure why Dean was asking. "Is this a general question? Or do you want specifics?"
Dean chuckled. "I'm not just asking out of politeness. I want to know how you've been, what you've been up to."
"I'm fine. I know you won't believe me, but I really am fine. I know the spell I used has its flaws…" he hesitated, looking across at Dean to see if he was going to start shouting again. It seemed that wasn't the case, so he continued. "But I feel more like myself than I have in months. I have purpose again, Dean. I can do some good."
"Cas-"
"- It isn't just about having my angelic power again, though obviously it's good that I can be there immediately when you need me instead of having to drive. I just feel more…" he tried to search for the right word.
"Together?"
Cas nodded. "Yes. I can't tell you why." he smiled at Dean. "I just know that this is what I'm supposed to be doing."
"Saving people? Hunting things?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"The family business." Cas continued with a smile. "Something like that, yes."
Dean grinned happily. "So you'll be doing something other than just sitting in the bunker all day reading? Planning on coming back as 'hunter-in-training'? Maybe you'll finally learn which way up an FBI badge goes."
"I know which way up it goes."
"Course you do." Dean was quiet for a moment, lost in memories of the first time Cas had tried masquerading as a government agent. "In all seriousness, Cas… I know what you mean about feeling whole again. God knows there have been times in my life when I've fallen to pieces. But it's doing this job - being myself - that put me back together again. I'm just saying… I know what it feels like. That feeling when you get yourself back… I'm happy for you."
Dean heard Sam move restlessly in his sleep, still just about remaining on the back seat, and stopped talking. No sense giving him more ammunition than strictly necessary. Besides which he didn't want to disturb him and stop him getting a few hours kip. Again, they drove along in silence for a while, Cas staring out of the window at the scenery most of the time, with occasional glances at Dean. It felt odd to just sit in the car, doing nothing specifically productive. Not bad, just odd.
"Dean, can I have that recipe back for a bit? I want to work out what ingredients we need for the pie."
Dean pulled a wadge of stuff out of his breast pocket one-handed, keeping hold of the steering wheel. "It's in with that lot. And there should be a pen and paper in the door pocket next to you if you want to make a list."
Cas took the bundle of things from Dean and began leafing through. Fake FBI badge, fake Press pass, photo of Sam and Dean leaning against the impala, laughing, drinking a couple of beers… He wondered briefly who could have taken the photo, but then recognised the background. Bobby's place. He kept looking through the pile of assorted papers etc. on his lap. The receipt from the diner just now - odd, he'd thought when he crumpled it up that he'd have thrown it away - a few loose business cards claiming to be 'Special Agent Corleone', the apple pie recipe and another photo. It was more recent than the one of Sam and Dean, Cas vaguely remembered Sam taking it. He's been in the bunker kitchen with Dean. Dean had been eating a sandwich and flicking through news reports on a laptop, while he, Cas, read through yet another lore book from the library. Sam had come in and snapped a picture with his phone. Well, evidently a few photos. The one Cas had seen previously showed himself looking at the camera confusedly while Dean ran at his brother. This one was obviously from a few seconds earlier. He had his head down, concentrating, while Dean was looking at him, not taking any notice of either the laptop or the food in front of him.
Dean looked over to see Cas staring intently at a photo. He suddenly remembered - he'd nicked Sam's phone one night and printed a photo of the pair of them off to go in his pocket with the one of him and Sam. Oh well. Cas knew more embarrassing things about him than a habit for keeping family photos on him at all times in case of emergencies. Cas eventually stopped examining the photo and began to rummage in the door pocket for a pen and paper. A couple of minutes later he was still searching.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Isn't there any in there?"
"I've found a pen…" Cas replied, still rooting through the door pocket. "But the only paper I've found is your father's hunting journal."
"Oh, just write it in the back. I'm sure there's space."
Cas looked at him, uncertain. "That doesn't seem entirely in the spirit of the book…"
"Just write the damn shopping list already." Dean's eyes began wandering towards Cas, but he forced himself to concentrate on the road, listening to Cas hum as he wrote. It took him a few repetitions to recognise the song. "Believe it or not?" he guessed. "Greatest American Hero soundtrack?"
Cas kept writing. "I find it soothing."
Dean looked at him weirdly for a second, then shrugged and turned back to the road. "You're road-tripping with a guy who hums Metallica to relax. No judgement here. It's a good song."
Sam gave a small cough from the back seat, his eyes staying closed. "Cas-Dean." he murmured just loud enough for it to carry to the front seat.
Dean swore loudly. Cas looked at him in surprise and asked what was wrong.
"You didn't hear?"
"I heard Sam say our names, if that's what you're referring to. I assumed he was having a dream."
Dean opened his mouth to explain the situation - that Sam was wide-awake and teasing them - then shut it again. It would take too long to explain, especially as Sam wouldn't be able to resist joining in. Besides which, he didn't want Cas knowing.
"A dream." he eventually responded. "Right. Well, I'm glad he's asleep. Otherwise I might have had to help him out with that. And I'm pretty sure people aren't s'posed to drive with concussion." Dean scowled at his brother in the rear-view mirror.
Sam gave a small smile, but didn't move. Sure he wasn't asleep, but he wasn't exactly awake either. Dozing was probably the best description, dozing and listening. Listening to his brother at least vaguely open up to someone for one in his life. God knows he needed to. And it was nice to hear Cas sharing too, even if he hadn't entirely been following the conversation. He smiled wider as Cas began humming again. Cowboy Junkies. Where the hell had he heard that? Surely not from Dean…
Dean recognised the song Cas was humming about the same time his brother did. Misguided Angel - Cowboy Junkies. He rolled his eyes before glancing down at what Cas was writing. He gave an exasperated sigh.
"Have you written the shopping list in Enochian?" he waited for an answer, but didn't get one. "You have, haven't you."
Same couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. "Seriously?"
Cas frowned. "I thought you were asleep, Sam."
"I was. Dean woke me up." he was careful not to say when. "You wrote a shopping list in Enochian? Nice one volunteering yourself for the supermarket run."
"I could write the English words beside the Enochian."
"Oh, awesome." Dean said with half-hearted sarcasm. "Let's start my English-Enochian phrasebook with what we're getting from Gas'N'Sip. I'm sure knowing the Enochian for apple will be really useful."
Sam sat up in surprise. "You're planning on learning Enochian?"
Dean shrugged and tried to make light of it. "Figure it might come in handy." he stared at the road ahead, ignoring Cas' eyes boring into him. It was amazing how much a pair of bright blue eyes could look like lasers. It felt like Cas was scanning his soul looking for a motive. Honestly, it was just something that had been in the back of his mind for a while.
He half expected Cas to say something, but Cas simply began writing the translations down. Dean smiled to himself, caught Sam watching him, and turned the radio on. It wasn't like they'd be waking Sam up, and it might give them an idea of the kind of traffic they'd be heading into, as well as if there were any demonic omens in the New York area. Something this big you'd expect some disappearances and freaky weather at the least. Lost in thought, he jolted slightly when instead of one of his preset stations Taylor Swift started blaring out. He looked at his brother accusingly, not fooled by the expression of innocence. Sam had done this, he had no doubt. Well, he wasn't going to amuse him by acting embarrassed.
"...the haters gonna hate hate hate…"
Dean turned it up, and was rewarded with Sam groaning loudly.
"...I'm just gonna shake shake shake shake shake, shake it off…"
There was a loud banging from the boot of the car. Evidently Crowley wasn't impressed with Sam's music choice. The loud knocking continued until the song ended, when Crowley stopped suddenly, apparently listening for what song was coming next. There was a slight delay while the radio DJ talked, Cas finished writing his shopping list and Dean put the photos and other odds and ends back in his pocket.
"... I knew you were trouble when you walked in…" Taylor Swift sang loudly from the stereo.
Sam's phone started ringing. He looked at the screen, laughed, and asked Cas to turn the music down before answering and putting it on speaker.
"Hi Crowley. How's the boot?"
"Cramped. And apparently not soundproofed. When you said that you'd prank your brother if I climbed in here without making a fuss, this isn't what I had in mind."
"Not a Taylor Swift fan?" Dean asked.
Crowley didn't respond. Dean grinned and turned the radio up.
"Your apprenticeship with Alistair really shows." even on the phone it was obvious that Crowley was speaking through gritted teeth. "This is worse torture than anything you'd get in Hell. Turn it off. Please. For the love of all that's unholy."
Cas scowled at his words and turned the radio up another notch.
"Nice one Cas." Dean nodded approvingly.
"That was Castiel?" Crowley yelled loud enough that they could hear him both on the phone and (muffled) through the back seat. "You know, for an angel, you can be pretty sadistic. Maybe that's why Dean likes you so much…"
"Can it, Crowley." Dean and Cas spoke in unison.
"Only when you turn the bloody music off! Honestly, it's worse than the classic rock marathon. What do you people have against a little variety?"
"If it's a choice between decent music and pissing you off, there's no contest." Dean explained happily.
Crowley sounded sulky when he eventually replied. "You're cutting off your nose to spite your face."
Sam laughed. "Got any more pearls of wisdom from Mummy?" he enquired patronisingly. There was no response, so he looked at the phone. "He hung up!" he said, surprised.
"He is the King of Hell." Dean pointed out. "Rude's kind of in the job description."
Still, he began searching for another radio station, one that played something other than Taylor Swift. He stopped when he found a news reporter talking about a recent upsurge in car thefts, and waited for the guy to finish and move onto traffic and weather. A couple of traffic accidents, nothing on their route, no crazy weather. Nothing out of the ordinary. Weird.
"Does it seem odd to you that we're supposedly hunting some high level demon, trying to open the gates of Hell, and there's nothing? No omens, no weird disappearances, no freak lightning storms…"
Dean shrugged. Sam was voicing thoughts that had been running through the back of his head. "We're still like a day's drive out. Could be it's all focused closer to the gate." he was aware he was making excuses, and by the look on Sam's face so was he. "I know, I know. But we've come this far. We should check it out."
"Sure. And if he's been lying…"
"Like I said. Cas gets first dibs. Though I'm hoping he'll let us help."
"Well, I wouldn't want you two to miss out on the fun." Cas agreed wryly. "Though if there is by some chance a Devil's gate in the centre of Manhattan… What is the plan?"
Dean smirked. "We cut down anyone in our path." he paraphrased the second Pirates of the Caribbean film, earning a laugh from Cas.
Sam was confused. "I thought you said you'd watched the first Pirates movie with him."
"I did." Dean nodded as the radio started playing Motorhead. "But you weren't back yet when it finished, so we watched the next one too."
There was a long pause. Then Sam began coughing loudly and falsely. In the midst of the coughing, Dean heard his brother say clearly "Destiel".
"Shut your damn piehole."
"What?" Sam objected. "I was just coughing!"
Dean ignored him, scowling at the road ahead. Sam simply chuckled to himself and stretched out across the back seat again.
"Who's Destiel?" Cas asked quietly.
"I'll let you take that one, Dean." Sam raised an eyebrow and settled down smugly to listen to his brother attempt to talk himself out of this one.
Dean hesitated. He could feel Cas watching him, waiting for a response. Damn. No chance of fobbing him off with a sarcastic comment. And he didn't want to lie to the little guy. So that left the only other option.
Editing the truth.
"A while ago," he began, "Sam and me, we worked a case at this girls' school. They were doing a play-"
"-a musical-" Sam interrupted.
Dean ignored him and kept talking. "-based on the Supernatural books. You know, those books Chuck wrote."
"The Winchester Gospels." Cas confirmed. "Of course."
"Yeah. Well, long story short, while we were working out what was killing people and how to gank it, we ended up watching a load of rehearsals and chatting to the directors. They had a ton of slang they used for certain moments during the show."
Sam started humming the tune of 'A Single Man Tear'. Dean nudged the brakes so that he almost fell off the seat and he stopped immediately, recognising the warning.
"Well, one of the things was that they had a load of names for when certain characters were on stage together." Dean suddenly realised that the only name he knew was Destiel and cast around for something other than that to make the point with. "Say Sam and Gabriel did a scene together. That would be Sabriel."
"Low blow, Dean."
Dean continued to ignore his brother, instead watching Cas attempt to process the new information.
"So Destiel is..?"
"You and me."
"Oh."
There was an awkward gap before Sam spoke up.
"I still think it should be Deastiel."
Dean was about to berate him when Cas started talking. "That is a more accurate contraction of our names." he agreed, nodding. "Though I don't understand why there would be specific terms for when it was just two characters on stage together. Surely there would be a lot more examples where 3 or 4 main characters were seen at the same time? Besides which, is it really so much easier to say 'Destiel' instead of 'Dean and Cas'?"
"Cas-Dean." Sam whispered.
"Who knows." Dean said in response to Cas' questions, talking over his brother. "Theatre kids… They're a load of fruit loops. Who knows what crazy stuff they're thinking!"
"Hey! I was a theatre kid!"
"Yup. And you're definitely looney tunes." Dean was completely aware that he was only saying any of this to spite his brother for taking the piss out of him and Cas. The fact that Cas hadn't realised that Sam was teasing him didn't change the fact that he was. "Certifiable. We should probably just drop you off at an asylum. Again."
"I'm pretty sure there's only one person in this car who hasn't been in a mental asylum, and he's locked in the trunk." Sam paused. "Well, I assume he hasn't. I don't actually know."
Dean considered that for a few seconds. "That is a really sorry state of affairs."
"You're telling me. Now d'you want me to take over driving soon? Or can I go back to sleep?"
"As if you ever actually went to sleep." Dean said, rolling his eyes.
Sam went on the defensive. "I was asleep for a while! You woke me up!"
"Whatever you say, Sammy." Dean sighed. "I'll pull over in a bit, let you take over. I could definitely do with a break."
