It's been five weeks and four hunts and they've finally hit their stride as a team. But now they're in a lull, stuck in this miserable place. August is just ending but in Alabama you can't tell. The night air's practically dripping with humidity, even while the cheap air conditioner in the motel rattles on, and if Dean were to take a step outside he's sure his skin would feel like it's boiling right off of him.
At the moment Dean's sprawled nearly naked on his bed, arms and legs as wide as he can get them in hopes of cooling off a tad bit more. Sam's been out since early evening and isn't expected back for the rest of the night. Taking that stuck up blonde from the cafe out on a date or something, doing Dean doesn't care what.
All he does know about it is that it makes him angry. Or maybe not angry exactly, but something negative that's for sure. That emptiness has crept back into him as it always done when he's left alone, and being left to simmer in the heat with it is not helping.
He gets up, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and grabs another cold beer from the mini-fridge. The three he's had so far have done plenty to make him feel better temperature-wise, but the alcohol is loosening up his emotions more than he'd like, spikes of fear and loneliness rising up unbidden every now and then. Still, better than slowly roasting to death.
He settles back on the bed and sips at his beer, absently watching the western that's on the TV. It's a boring show but the small runner at the bottom of the screen advertises that his favorite, 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly', is on next.
Without even thinking it through he prays up to Cas, "Hey Cas, no rush or anything, just a heads up if you want to join in 10 minutes. Watching a show and would love the company."
Well, fuck, that was monumentally stupid.
Dean looks down at himself, taking in all the skin he'd forgotten about before calling the damn angel to hang out. Maybe a shirt and some pants would be a good idea. Even though it's a million degrees, better safe than too exposed around another dude. Sam wouldn't care, they're brothers after all, but he's not sure how Cas would take it.
Grumbling at himself he goes to pull on some clothes, stopping in the bathroom to run a wet washcloth over his neck and face. And while he's at it maybe fix his hair. It was looking a little flat from laying on the bed.
He goes back into their room and goes about straightening their things that are laying around. No reason to not look like they have their shit together. Not that Cas has judged them on anything yet, but even so he'd rather put forward their most organized face.
And crap, where's the angel going to even sit.
Dean hasn't thought this through at all. Another one of his split second decisions that end horribly. Why the hell did he invite Cas here without even considering it first? He makes an annoyed growl at himself, going to straighten the sheets on Sam's bed. With no chairs in the room that'll have to do.
He grabs two more beers out of the fridge, and turns around to see the angel calmly standing directly behind him.
"Hello Dean."
"Hey Cas!" he says far more brightly than he intended to. They look at each other for a moment too long, Cas a picture of patient while Dean's sure he's doing a good impression of a deer in headlights. Finally he breaks the gaze, holding out a drink which makes Cas tilt his head. "Here, I know you don't need to drink but it's hot as hell here today."
Thank God the angel has gotten used to some rules of politeness. He takes the beer with a nod, "Thank you Dean. What will we be watching today? And will Sam be joining us?"
"Yea uh-" he starts, but his train of thought derails as Cas walks over to sit on his bed. "Yea that's...uh."
Cas looks up at him with wide confused eyes then glances around at himself, clearly trying to see what the problem is. He tilts his head again as he regards the rest of the room.
"You're making me sweat in sympathy dude. Lose the monkey suit, it's like, a million degrees."
"Temperature does not affect me Dean. But if it would be more socially acceptable I will oblige." Cas deadpans, setting his unopened beer on the nightstand to pull off the trench coat and suit jacket. He folds them with delicate movements and sets them next to himself on the bed then looks up expectantly. Dean can't help but draw a comparison to a puppy when the head tilt kicks in, and he gives a nod of approval at Cas.
Cas seems satisfied at that and goes to grab and open his beer. "You haven't answered my question yet," he reminds Dean.
"My favorite western is on. And Sam is out." Dean throws himself onto Sam's bed, setting against the headboard, a mirror of Cas. He's sweating again, though it's probably just from the heat, which is not getting better with midnight approaching in a few hours.
"I'll be sure to pay attention. However I have a question..."
As it would turn out, watching movies with Castiel entails less 'watching' and more 'explaining' than Dean had anticipated. But as he discusses the finer points of old western justice he finds himself enjoying this. He's paid very little attention to the plot, though Cas seems to be memorizing everything while simultaneously listening to Dean's explanations, and yet he doesn't mind missing most of it. Getting to relax and share some camaraderie time is something he hasn't had in a while. For the moment he can forget about that aching in his chest and just enjoy. And Cas is an easy companion, even if he did steal Dean's spot.
The time passes swiftly, and before he knows it the credits roll while Cas gives a long winded critique. It's more talking than he's ever got out of the angel, and even though his opinion is a bit wrong (in Dean's opinion) it's entertaining to listen to.
It's been so long since Dean had a friend he could just enjoy being around. Sure Sam fills that place a lot of the time, but there's something different about having your brother around versus someone else. And yea, Cas is weird, but Dean would never hold that against him. Dude's spent literally forever up on Heaven, he can't be blamed for not getting how to act human. Though he's certainly picked up on plenty in the short time he's been around them, like the way he runs a hand over his face when annoyed or how he plays with the bottle while drinking a beer.
And now that he thinks of it, maybe this loneliness for a friend was that empty feeling he's had, it certainly goes away when they hang out with Cas. Regardless, he's generally felt better since Cas joined, so he's not going to complain.
They talk for a few more minutes before Cas gets the spaced out look on his face he gets when listening to his angel radio. "I must return now, my superiors are searching for me."
"Alright, no problem. Thanks for hangin out tonight, we should do this more often, lot of movies to see," Dean says smiling over.
"Yes, I would like that Dean," Cas's mouth twitches up into his approximation of a smile. "Until next time." And with that he's gone, jackets taken with him.
Dean lets out a deep sigh. Without Cas here the motel feels infinitely more depressing. And then the air conditioner makes a fatal clanking sound and kicks off. Almost immediately the air turns oppressive.
Fucking great.
Dean decides that 1 am isn't all that late, plus he will never sleep without that machine running, so he strips back down and sets to work fixing the air conditioner. It's hot miserable work, but gives his hands something to do while he lets this thoughts wander. The monotonous motions easily keep him focused.
He makes a short mental list of movies he should make Cas watch. There's so many that he and Sam reference on a daily basis, but he should stick to a manageable list. Definitely Star Wars and Indiana Jones. Maybe some Disney movies, but not the princess ones. And Pulp Fiction. That's making the list for sure.
Once he has the air pulsing back through the room he grabs a quick cold shower to rinse the sweat off and cool his body down some for sleep. He doesn't bother with clothes, just slips on a pair of boxers before sprawling across his bed. With a big sigh he face plants into his pillow.
Which now smells like pine needles and open air. Thanks Cas.
He'd be more annoyed if it was a bad smell or if he had the energy to really care. As it is, the humidity has sapped what strength he had left and he swiftly falls into a fitful sleep.
His dreams are nothing terribly special. Full of the usual; hunting, women, etc. Only bits of the last one stay with him once he wakes.
He and Sam running through houses on search of who knows what. He stops to take a breath, sure that they've passed through this hallway several times already. Sam rounds on him demanding that they keep going but at that moment Cas appears down the hall, his hair and coat whipping wildly about with his sudden appearance. He yells something at them, but the sound doesn't reach. Sam takes off the opposite way, resisting the arm Dean throws out to keep him there. There's no way they can hunt separately and survive.
But Cas starts running and Dean takes after him, leaving Sam to take care of himself. Within a few steps the house starts to dissolve around them into the field that he's often seen in his dreams. He keeps chasing after the angel, never running out of breath in this dream world.
He sees Cas come to a stop ahead on a small hill, the flowers brushing his hands and swallowing him up. But when Dean gets within a few feet the angel vanishes, leaving him alone in the meadow wondering where Cas has got to and whether Sam is coming back.
The next morning's weather is no better. Fortunately the air conditioner seems to have held up overnight, but Dean still feels sticky with sweat when he goes to get out of bed.
He grabs a fast shower that's more tepid than cold and runs through the notes on the witch case they're investigating. He's about to get up and get breakfast without Sam when said brother comes slinking in.
"Morning. Have fun with Taylor?" he says without glancing up from reading.
"Huh?" Sam stops and gives him a puzzled look. Then his eyes light up a bit, "Oh yea she was great. Had a good time!"
"Wow. Regular Casanova now, eh Sammy?"
Sam gives a noncommittal answer and goes into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He sticks his head back out while he's waiting for the water to heat, "Oh yea and I looked into the case a little this morning, definitely not witches or our thing. Just some pretty ingenious pranks."
"When the hell'd you have time to do that?"
"I woke up early and figured I should be productive," Sam says with a shrug, "Might as well pack up and head out. Preferably somewhere less humid."
Dean mutters to himself as Sam ducks back into the bathroom to get showered. Damn kid has been way too productive since Dean came back from Hell. Barely even need to do much investigating with how much research he can accomplish.
He's just finished putting the last of their things in the car when Sam comes out duffle in hand, "So what'd you get into last night?"
"Not much, watched a few westerns and tried not to die in this heat." He says, conveniently avoiding the topic of Cas.
"Sounds like a blast," Sam says smirking, "Come on then, let's get going."
Dean drives to the diner down the street before heading out of town and Sam calls Bobby for a lead while he's inside getting their food. The diner has decent looking breakfast, but he's in agreement with Sam, too hot to stay this far South for long. He grabs up the bag of food and coffee holder then plunges back out into the soupy heat.
"-good we'll head up there. Should make it by night. Thanks Bobby. " Sam shuts his phone and grabs the drinks from Dean. "Did you get me hash browns?"
"Yea they're in here," Dean starts digging through the bag to divvy up their food. "What'd Bobby have for us?"
Sam stuffs a mouthful of breakfast sandwich in his mouth, "Got some weird murders up in Connecticut. Looks like some kind of animal, but it's particular about the organs it wants."
"Spare the details til I finish eating, 'kay? Just happy to be going North." Dean says, praising God for the soon to be cooler weather. He gets the car going then pulls out onto the road, taking the next available North exit.
Around Roanoke, Virginia Dean starts to get stir crazy. He'd let Sam drive for a bit after the first 4 hours, but they've switched back and there's only so long he can stare at the highway.
Now Sam's curled up against the door reading a book giving Dean nothing to entertain himself with. Just endless stretches of road around mountains and valleys. Music is apparently too distracting for the nerd to read with. Damn little brother.
Well if he can't have his tunes and has to stay awake for the rest of the drive then he ought to have some company. "Dear Castiel, hope you're listening-"
"Really Dean?"
"- we are on Route 81 close to Richmond if you want to come hang out."
He turns to look at the face Sam is making at him and gives his own right back. Before Sam can start protesting the sound of moving air announces the arrival of the angel.
"Hello Dean. Sam." Cas says in his trademark monotone looking at Dean in the rear view.
"Heya Cas, what's shakin'?"
"I'm fi-..what?" Cas tilts his head and squints at Dean.
"You know, how're you doing?" Sam mutters irritably.
"I am...well? Why would you ask if I am shaking? I can assure you that I am in no way afraid at the momen-"
"It's an expression. Hand me my bag will ya Cas? I need my headphones." Sam leans back holding his hand out. Castiel searches for the correct bag then passes it to him while Dean shares a silent conversation with his brother. Sam's blatant rudeness is uncalled for and Dean's raised eyebrows and insistent look get the point across. Sam just shakes his head and glances away, not in the mood for having this discussion. He takes out the noise canceling headset and dives back into his book.
Dean glances up into the rear view and is immediately met with concerned blue staring at him, "Is Sam alright Dean?"
A honk draws his eyes back to the road where he's drifted a touch into the next lane. He corrects quickly, "Yea Cas he's good."
"Then I have offended him in some way?"
Of course the angel is being selfless, assuming that anyone's discomfort is on his behalf and not their own poor damn attitude. "No he's just being a little bitch," he jabs Sam lightly in the ribs, startling him from his reading and getting a quick glare, "aren't you Sammy?"
He chats with Cas as Sam goes back to his reading for a few hours. Cas is always reluctant to answer many questions about himself, but is full of questions about Dean. He tells Cas about his parents, glossing over some details, tells him about Bobby and the salvage yard, they discuss his musical preferences and he retells his favorite story about winning a wrestling medal when he was 16.
All in all it's a pleasant drive and in no time the sun has gone down, taking Sam's reading light, forcing him to join in the conversation. Cas politely asks questions of him as well, sticking to topics that are simple enough to talk about without getting into any emotions. At first Sam hesitates, but within a bit he opens up a touch. It's more than Dean expected from him, considering his mood lately.
They talk about nothing important for a time until Cas announces that he must leave. With a promise to come when they call next he flies off, presumably back to the church inside Boston or up to Heaven.
"See? That wasn't so hard now, was it Sam?"
"I never said it was. It's just..." Sam trails off and slumps down into his seat. "Knowing what we do about me having demon blood...I just feel so much lesser with an actual angel around."
Ah that explains it. Dean had been worried for weeks that it was something he wasn't picking up on that had Sam annoyed about Cas. But it's just the same old crap they've always dealt with. And yea he kinda gets it. All his time in Hell can make him feel inferior to Cas too, but it's not like the guy treats him any differently.
"Dude if he's cool with me having gone to Hell, then I doubt he's judging you for what that bastard did when you were a baby. And besides, it's not like you're doing anything with that stuff anymore. Let it go man."
Sam huffs a little in amusement, "Yea I guess I should. But whatever, he's your friend, not mine."
"He's-'" Dean stutters out before Sam cuts him off.
"You were the one that found him and you are the one he likes. I'm just third wheeling it here."
"Well you don't have to say it so fucking weird," Dean grumbles. Seriously, makes it sound like he's dating the angel, "He's just more comfortable with me because I actually put forth some effort in the friendship. You just shut down."
They sit in silence for a few moments, lit by passing headlights every few seconds. Sam huffs at something he'd thought then scoots down in his seat, "Whatever just wake me up when we get there."
And of course the killings stop the minute they roll into town. Dean's had just about enough of questioning people in town with no real reason to give them. The local police are still investigating, but only half heartedly. And it's starting to look suspicious for supposed FBI to hang around.
The killings have all been occurring to employes at a factory on the outskirts of town. They've just finished yet another bust interview with yet another employee when Dean suggests calling in Cas for some direction.
"Dean no, we can deal with this on our own. You rely on him way too much already, we should stay self-sufficient," Sam says from across the diner booth, "and before you start in on me not trusting him again that isn't what I'm saying right now. We just shouldn't have him helping out on every single case. Plus you are way too obsessed with him. I know it's hard not to play with your shiny new toy, but come on Dean."
Dean hates to admit it but Sam is right. He just really enjoys getting another person around, and essentially getting the walkthrough on what they're hunting has made this job a lot more enjoyable. After 40 years in Hell it's been nice to have it easy for a while. Not have to get as stressed and paranoid as they used to, take a day or two off here and there, he's even started hoping that they can take an extended vacation of sorts at Bobby's.
"I'm just sayin' Sam, it's been four days and we're just chasing our tails at this point. Bet he could figure it out in a few hours if we ask nicely," Sam rolls his eyes at that, "and I do mean we Sammy. He thinks you hate him."
"I don't hate hi-"
"Then stop being a bitch! We have an angel on our side. It'd be best to keep him on our side."
Sam mutters under his breath and goes back to drinking his coffee, glaring into the bottom of the mug like it had just smacked him across the face. Leave it to the bitch to be a bitch. But, it would be even worse if his own brother wasn't on his side.
"Ok fine, we'll give it another day. After that I'm calling our trump card."
Sam glances up through his lashes quickly then looks away, "Yea ok, fair enough," he makes a small grimace that disappears as soon as he makes it. Clearly he doesn't think it's fair, but at least is accepting Dean's compromise. "I'll look through the notes again, I'm sure I've been missing something."
"Huh, yea you do that nerd. I'm going to enjoy me some of that pie that's been calling my name while I wait," Dean says, mouth already watering at the sight of a perfect cherry pie on the counter. He waves over the curvy little waitress to get a slice while Sam pulls out his notebooks and begins reading.
He's halfway through a truly fantastic food experience and contemplating the waitress' phone number he got when Sam slams down his pencil and looks up wild eyed.
"We've been...I'm an idiot...how did we miss this?" he demands before plowing on into an explanation without waiting for Dean to respond, "We couldn't figure this out because there are always organs missing from the victims, but we were focusing on things that just go after general organs. We didn't take into account that they might be covering their tracks by taking ones they didn't want! Now, each victim is missing different organs, but there's one that is always missing in all of them, the brain. But also they were all really pale and looked kind of, drained? Ok so what would want anything to do with the brain and drain people?"
Sam's looking at him expectantly and Dean stares back with a blank look. Past simple ghosts and the like he's not that good with mythological anything. That's what Dad's journal's for, looking up the weird stuff. But he'll throw Sam a bone if that's what it takes, "I don't know, maybe the aliens from Mars Attacks?"
Sam huffs a little but is too excited to be deterred, "No Dean, a kitsune. We haven't seen one in a while, they usually stay pretty well hidden. I wonder if this is a tailed one, that'd be a fun change. Finally get a good challenge!"
Dean stares at Sam in disbelief, "Why on earth would it be a kitsune? There has to be, like, 20 other things that want brains."
"Yea but remember that security guard we talked to? He said he saw blue flames out in the factory. That must be fox fire!"
"Or...he was high," Dean reasons. The guard had been pretty stoned when they talked to him so they'd written off anything he'd said.
"No I'm sure Dean. We need to start searching for who it is and how to kill them. It'll most likely be a woman. I'll pull up the list," Sam says as he digs out the laptop to begin more research. "Ok so kitsune are afraid of dogs and will show their tails if they're drunk. Shouldn't be too hard to get the two women on this list to go out with us for an evening."
"Even if you're wrong I could use a good night out. You've been having all the fun lately," he slaps down a few bills and collects his stuff, "you comin'? Want to get a good nights rest in if we'll be out late tomorrow."
"I've fucking told you a hundred times, we can this without the angel!" Sam bellows from the passenger seat, alcohol loosening his tongue. If Dean had any less restraint he would give him a punch in the arm for the tone and damn superior attitude, but he'd rather keep Baby on the road, and truth be told he'd had one or two too many at the bar. The plan with the girls had worked well, but Sam had ruined it by dragging them out the minute the small mousey girl's eyes started flashing red and three fucking tails began flickering in and out of visibility.
"Congratulations Sam, you found out what's killing folks, but do you have any idea on how to stop a kitsune without some Shinto blessed stake?"
That certainly put a stop to most of the chest puffing Sam's been doing, but he's still smirking like the cat that ate the canary. "I'm sure we'll get that figured out. Call Bobby and see if he knows of anyone in the area that has one."
"Seriously? Do you know how far fetched that is? Even if some one does we don't have time-"
"Don't have time? Dean there hasn't been a single killing since we got here. I doubt we'll have to act that quickly. We can wait if we have to." They've arrived back at their motel and Sam hops out, a skip in his step that hadn't been there for a few weeks.
"Spoiled brat. Has to have everything his way," Dean grumbles while he locks up the car and shuffles into the little motel room. Sam's disappeared into the bathroom so he flops down on the bed he claimed and lays there for a minute while the alcohol makes his head spin a little. The sound of the toilet flushing and bathroom door opening announce that Sam has come back in the room, and he can practically feel the pride radiating off his little brother.
"Should I call him now or in the morning?" Sam asks.
"Who?" Dean turns his head over to give Sam an annoyed and confused face. He'd been a minute or two away from sleep.
"Bobby, about the stake we'll need."
Oh yes, of course, because that's a pressing matter. Dean can't find it in himself to care much right now, sleep beckoning him to just close his eyes and drift off. "Don't care Sam, just...do whatever, an' wake me up in the morning."
Sam chuckles as he grabs his phone from the table, "Such an old man already? Can't party anymore?"
"Shut up bitch," Dean slurs out, sleep already taking him. So what if he's not much of a partier anymore? Hell has a way of sucking your taste for that kind of stuff right out of you. Sleep and relaxing, now that's the kind of life he could use. With a last thought about calling Cas in the morning for his help and a barely registered sound of 'Jerk' from Sam he drifts off.
"Dean! Fucking come on man!"
"Whathoware. Sam?" Dean mumbles, swinging wildly about himself anticipating an attack.
"Dean I've been trying to get you up for hours, now come on, we need to go take care of that fox," Sam says while slamming things about. He's scowling around at everything and moving jerkily.
Dean glances at the clock, already 10 am, and shoves up into a sitting position while he orients himself. The hangover he was expecting to have isn't even there, but the sudden wake up didn't do much for his thought processing. He watches Sam packing up their duffles for a few minutes before noticing the new item in the room. "Where the hell did you get a stake already?"
Sam glances over at the wooden stake resting on his bed then goes back to his packing, "Called Bobby but apparently no one around here would have what we need. He suggested calling Cas too, so I had the angel pick it up for us overnight."
That certainly woke Dean right up, "You what? You were literally yelling at me for suggesting that last night."
"Yea well Bobby had a few things to say about it. And it was pretty fast too." Sam is pointedly avoiding looking at Dean, keeping his head down while he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
"The hell kind of speech did Bobby give you to change your mind?" Dean whispers to himself. He can vividly remember the speeches he himself has gotten over the years from Bobby. Each and every one was deserved and had the desired effect. It's the reason he stopped smoking cigarettes when he had just turned 18, the reason he went and got Sam from college. In fact, most every difficult conversation he needed to have was through Bobby. John didn't really have time for much other than giving orders.
Sam comes back out and shoves his bathroom bag into his duffle while Dean's finishing getting dressed, "Think we should take care of this sooner rather than later, that girl will hopefully be sleeping in with as much as she drank last night."
"Yea ok," Dean stomps into his boots and sits on the edge of his bed to lace them up.
"Want to stick around here for a while after or head out?"
With a grunt Dean stands up and searches around for his keys, "Doesn't matter much to me, but looks like you've already packed us to leave. Now come on, let's not wait all day."
Sam gives him a searching look then follows him out the door, "The hell has your panties in a wad today?"
"They're not-! I'm fine Sam," he throws open the door to the Impala and gets in.
"You don't have a hangover or anything, right? Cause Cas took care of that when he was here."
"Seriously? The dude was actually in our room and messed with me, and you didn't wake me up. That's so creepy." Dean clenches his jaw and backs out of the parking space. It's one thing for Sam to get help from Cas, but another to invite the guy over while he's sleeping for God's sake.
"What? Are you gonna pout about it all day?"
"I am not pouting!" Dean says a little louder than he intended to.
Sam huffs and the sides of his mouth turn up in a little smile. "You totally are."
"No! It's just weird."
"I didn't let him bad touch you so don't-"
"Fucking drop it Sam or I swear to God all of your pants will find themselves burned!" Dean yells at him while Sam laughs hysterically.
After a few minutes Sam settles back down and smiles over at Dean, "Ok man, I'm sorry. It does sound weird, I'll give you that. But you were drunk, so I didn't want to wake you up. Plus it only took him 5 minutes to get the damn thing," he reaches back for the stake, "And it was his idea to 'cleanse' you, or whatever he called it. I don't think he approves of drunkenness."
Dean grumbles to himself but lets it go. There's far worse that could have been done than simply taking alcohol out of his system. And besides Sam had been there. Still, it feels weird for them to have been hanging out without him.
By now they've gotten a few blocks away from the kitsune's house and pull over to get the plan in order, so Dean pushes his annoyance, which is not jealousy, out of his mind for the hunt.
I apologize for the weird leave off point...the next section will be long as well, so there wasn't a good place to stop :/
