Sorry it took so long to post this one. We've got...I think...three or four chapters left to go, I think, if all goes according to plan. Thanks to all of you lovely bastards for sticking with me and reviewing! I'm unreasonably happy that you seem to be enjoying it. Enjoy this chapter-I had fun with it. And the next one is even funner-er. Er. In my opinion at least.
Dean was not in his right mind. To Castiel this was quite obvious, but nevertheless his brain continued to repeat that mantra back to him. Every act he chose and word he spoke was influenced by a fabricated yearning that had nothing to do with his actual thoughts and desires. It wasn't Dean's fault that Castiel couldn't properly handle extraordinary human emotions when ordinary ones already escaped him. It wasn't really Dean who had kissed him like a lover—it was the poison in his system. Dean—the real Dean, who was in control of his own mind—would never kiss him. The situation was simple to understand, simple to forgive, simple to overlook. Why, then, did he feel so utterly confused?
Castiel flexed his grip against the railing of the dock, shaking his head to himself. He wasn't sure why he had come here. Perhaps it was because the area was secluded enough for him to be left alone, perhaps it was because it was far away from the scene of the debacle, or perhaps it was because a place like this had existed in Dean's most peaceful dream and Castiel, having had no similar relation, chose it out of mere mimicry. Whatever the case he knew he wouldn't be able to stay here much longer. He had already left Dean on his own for hours now, and the guilt and worry gnawing away at his gut would not allow him to carry on this way. Even if he was terrified of going back, though that thought struck him as absurd. Dean would not harm him, and even if he were so inclined he would be hard pressed to succeed. Perhaps what he was feeling was not fear at all then, but he didn't know what else to call it.
Dean's words continued to circle in his head regardless. He had indirectly declared his love for Castiel, at least that was Castiel's best assessment of the dialogue exchanged. This was a difficult concept for him to comprehend. Angels felt fraternal love for their fellowmen and reverent love towards their maker, but Castiel was well aware this was not the love that Dean had spoken of. To humans, confessing one's love meant something different; something far more complex. Castiel had all the pieces to this puzzle but lacked the means to construe them. Love involved sex, but humans often had sex for reasons other than procreative with those they did not love. Love involved companionship, devotion, and reliability, but Castiel expected this of any benevolent relationship. Romantic love appeared to be inexplicably different. This was part of the reason he had been so confused when Sam had insisted to him that Valentine's Day was something other than a simple mating ritual.
"Maybe it is for some people," Sam had thrown a sidelong glance at his brother, "but it's supposed to be about love."
Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Love seems a superfluous reason to mate."
"Well, romance isn't exactly about the 'mating', Cas."
Naturally more confused than ever, Castiel had merely diverted the subject to remind Sam of more pressing matters. Having been saddled with this new dilemma, however, he wished now that he had acquired a better understanding of romance before having dismissed the notion. He supposed that he did love Dean. He loved Sam as well. Friends did bond so far as love, did they not? It was still strange to think of himself as having "friends", but that was indeed what they were. Did this concept of "romance" factor in between the three of them somehow? He certainly did not want to mate with Sam, and Dean…Dean, he…
Dean was still alone back at the motel. Castiel felt a very human urge to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat, unable to justify standing around out here uselessly any longer when his friends were in danger. With a solemn sigh, he closed his eyes and took off towards his destination.
As soon as he arrived in the room his eyes fell upon Dean, who was sitting at the table with his hands on his head, an expression on his face that was close to frantic. Castiel moved forward in concern. "Dean?"
The man in question looked up quickly, eyebrows rising. "Cas!"
"Yes," Castiel agreed warily as Dean stood up.
"You scared the hell out of me! I-I didn't know where you went, I thought…I don't know what I thought, but I was really worried, you know?" Dean sputtered.
Castiel drew in a breath. "Dean, I apologize. I know that this must be difficult for you, but you will come to understand."
"What is it?" Dean's face suddenly dropped, eyes widening. "It's not…I mean, it's not someone else, is it? Like another angel or something?"
"No." Castiel almost felt an out of place pulse of laughter. "There are more important matters at hand than romance, Dean. Mere days ago you yourself were avidly stressing this point. When you are back to normal you will remember."
"What do you mean back to normal? What's not normal?" he asked with a brief moment of clarity in which he ran his hands over his body to ensure that he was in fact whole.
"Your curse, of course."
"Curse?"
Castiel raised his voice slightly in exasperation. "The curse that is forcing you to believe you are in love with me."
"Forcing me?" The ensuing wounded look he adopted made Castiel feel an unexpected stab of discomfort in his chest. The man had never looked so pathetically vulnerable and betrayed. He gave into the unbidden instinct to reach for him, but Dean took an uncharacteristically timid step back. "Hell, Cas. …I…"
Dean trailed off as two figures suddenly reappeared in the room behind Castiel.
"We're back! How are the Fairly Odd Parents doing?"
Castiel turned to see Gabriel standing behind him, Sam at his side, lovingly fatuous as ever and drinking a large Slurpee. Castiel was suddenly bombarded with an intense feeling of white hot rage—a culmination of his frustration with Dean's state and his own brother's shenanigans. "Gabriel!" he hissed.
"Hey, hey, whoah!" Gabriel at least had the decency to wince at Castiel's temper. "Easy, slugger."
"Do not patronize me!" Castiel snapped. "This is not a game! You cannot kidnap a man at your leisure, not with so much at stake! Sam Winchester is in my care, and if you've laid even a finger on him I'll drag you into the pit by fistfuls of your feathers and hand deliver you to Lucifer myself you—you—smarmy little ass-clown!"
Gabriel blinked, pulling back slightly. "Wow. You need to take a few less footnotes from lover boy over there." He shot a glance to Dean. "And relax! As you can see, your second favorite pet's in one piece. Better, even. Don't you feed these kids? He was half starved by the time I got my hands on him." He gestured to Sam, who pulled the straw from his mouth and stuck out his now discolored tongue as far as it would go.
"Hey Gabr-ll, ith mah tongue bluh?"
"It sure is, champ."
Castiel resisted the urge to slam Gabriel into the wall. It wouldn't aid his cause and the archangel was far more powerful than him anyway. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly before finally managing to hold himself together. "Why didn't you go to the witch's shop?"
"I did. Scout's honor," Gabriel defended, holding up two fingers. "It was closed for the holiday."
Castiel floundered. "But…then surely you have been tracking her down."
"Nnnnot so much," Gabriel admitted. "What's another measly twenty-four hours gonna hurt? Don't tell me you didn't have at least a speck of fun with chucklehead."
Castiel made several twitches and jerks, stuttering half-growled words and looking as though he were about to erupt.
"Come on, Castiel, it's Valentine's Day!" Gabriel assuaged.
Castiel grit his teeth. "You…have potentially abolished…any chance we had at gaining an upper hand in this war."
"Don't be so dramatic. Typical Daddy's boy. You're wound so tight you think that one day off is the end of the world."
"Do not insult my intelligence, Gabriel. You cannot divert my purpose so easily with mere wordplay."
Gabriel snorted. "Losersayswhat?"
Castiel made a face. "What?"
"Aaaaaaaaah, Cas is a loser!" Sam jeered in delight.
Castiel deflated, dropping his face into a hand and rubbing his temples. "Sam. You have my deepest apologies. I should have heeded your warning."
Sam furrowed his brow in confusion before smiling again and attempting to offer Castiel his drink.
"Okay, okay, okay," Gabriel raised his hands, trying to diffuse the tension. "Maybe I was a little less helpful than I claimed to be. How's this? Tomorrow morning we'll track that witch down and get a refund for her whacky Valentine crack once and for all. I promise."
"I can do that myself. I don't need your 'help'," Castiel grumbled.
"Well then, bossy-britches, what do you want?"
Castiel shook his head, turning away. "I want you to crawl back under whatever rock you've been hiding beneath for the past few centuries and stay there."
Gabriel pouted. "You know Castiel, that really hurts. Here I am baring my soul to you in an honest injun effort to make nice and you're too wrapped up in what I'm guessing is a lover's spat to give me a chance."
Castiel could admit that his situation with Dean was playing a large part in his mood, but he was still no more pleased with Gabriel than he appeared. "A chance to do what? Make this worse? I have plenty of faith in your ability to do that. If any of this mattered to you at all, perhaps you would have chosen the path of a warrior and not the path of a fool."
That time a chord really did strike in Gabriel. He straightened up, the mirth wiped from his face. "Listen, kid. Don't talk to me about what it takes to be a warrior," he warned. "How exactly do you think you get to be an archangel? Cuddling kittens? I was fighting the righteous cause long before anyone ever rang your bell and gave you those fancy little wings. When you get around to my age, maybe then you can preach to me about what a difference fighting makes."
Castiel eyed him severely, his anger sobering, and said nothing.
"Now I'm offering to help. For what it's worth, I happen to like you three idiots. Take it or don't, but you're giving this gift horse a tooth ache."
Castiel averted his gaze. "Very well. But I will not tolerate facetiousness on behalf of everything I have sacrificed."
"Fair enough." Gabriel tilted his head slightly. "…You know, I've always wanted to ask why this whole doom and gloom earth mission is so important to you, but…" His eyes slowly went to Dean, seeming to hold some understanding that Castiel did not possess. His gaze fell back on Castiel and he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I guess that would be a stupid question, wouldn't it?"
Castiel didn't catch Gabriel's meaning, but it sounded enough like the end of an argument for him to walk away. He went back to the table where Dean sat, who seemed to have forgotten his previous fret and smiled happily when the angel appeared beside him.
