(AN: Thanks to all of you who have stuck around, and/or left reviews. I love your insights and your comments and your questions, so keep them coming. I do have a lot of writing projects at the moment, but I don't want to neglect this story. The characters have won me over. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!)
"How's your halo?
Just between you and I
You and me and the satellites
I never believed you
I only wanted to
Before all of this
What did I miss?
Do you ever get homesick?"
[Strays Don't Sleep - For Blue Skies]
Dean's bed was big enough for the both of them to comfortably lie down and read in silence. Castiel had insisted that reading was a solitary task, but Dean was having none of it. He told Castiel that if he was to be forced to read his books, then Castiel would have to read alongside him.
They'd been slowly reading throughout the week, but neither of them was finished with their books. Apparently, it was harder to read beside Dean. In bed. The problem was that once they got under the covers, Dean's foot would play with Castiel's foot, and Castiel would try to ignore it for as long as possible, until he would finally put his book down and wrestle Dean on the bed, exerting the sexual tension in the room.
Because, dear lord, there was a lot of sexual tension in the room. Being alone in the bedroom room didn't help the case.
On Friday, after another long day at work, Castiel came to find Dean in his garage, working under the hood of his Impala. Castiel hovered nearby, watching Dean—filled with oil and soot—work in deep concentration. The image did things to Castiel's lower regions that he tried to shrug off. Finally, he grabbed a chair from the corner and sat down.
"How come Sam didn't take the Impala today?" Castiel wondered. Sam wasn't home yet.
Dean rolled out from under the car and grabbed a towel to wipe himself off. "Baby needed an oil change, but then I found other problems. I told Sam to get a ride from someone. He's going to buy himself a car, anyway. Can't take care of her like I can." He got back on his feet and gave a loving pat to the hood of the Impala.
"Is she doing okay now?" Castiel asked. It was interesting seeing Dean speak of his car with so much affection. Moving, even.
"I hope so," Dean said. He sighed longingly, crossing his arms as he admired his work under the dim light of his garage. "Wish I could take her for a spin. I haven't driven her in a very long time."
Castiel stood up, walking over to Dean. The Impala sure was beautiful. It was definitely a shame to keep her locked in the garage. Castiel felt his angel blade on his waistband, and it brought a sense of comfort and security to him. With it, he could kill off any possible danger to him and to Dean. And with Dean's knife—which apparently killed demons—they wouldn't be entirely defenseless.
"Let's you and I go somewhere," Castiel said, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. Dean turned to him, eyes widened and confused.
"Go where?" Dean asked quietly, almost as if he wasn't allowing himself to be hopeful.
"Wherever you want, Dean. I think you deserve a night out. I'll protect you, and you'll protect me." Castiel smiled at that. He knew that in another lifetime, they had done just that. Even if Dean didn't know it.
"But Sam—"
"Sam won't get home anytime soon," Castiel said. Usually, Sam stayed out on Friday nights. He'd started dating, which Castiel realized was healthy behavior, considering how their lives used to be. Maybe this life wasn't as awful as it could have been. Maybe Castiel hadn't completely ruined Dean by not saving him from Hell.
A slow smile shaped in Dean's lips. He grabbed his keys and headed over to the driver's seat. "We better get going then." He winked at Castiel before he climbed inside.
Castiel got in the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt. Dean inhaled deeply before he started the engine. When he heard the loud rumbling noise of the engine running, Dean chewed on his lower lip, barely containing his excitement. There was a faint scent of vanilla from an air freshener hung on the rearview mirror, mixed with leather from the seats. Dean ran a hand on the dashboard, almost like he was petting a horse before riding it.
"Ready?" Dean asked, glancing over at Castiel. Dean's smile was contagious.
"As ready as I'll ever be getting in a car with you," Castiel said.
"I'm the best driver that's ever lived," Dean said with a smirk.
"You're also overly confident." Castiel relaxed back on the seat. As Dean backed out of the garage, Castiel reached for the radio, but Dean slapped his hand out of the way before he made it. "Ow."
"Sorry, man, but if you ain't driving, you ain't messing with the radio. Don't be a barbarian."
Castiel rolled his eyes. He remembered something from Dean's life, and it made him laugh. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. Isn't that right, Dean?"
"Damn right." Dean turned on the radio to a classic rock station. Led Zeppelin's Heartbreaker started playing. Dean didn't sing along, but he kept the time with his hands on the steering wheel. Castiel rolled down the window as they speeded on and let the wind hit his face.
Who would have thought that driving in an Impala with classic rock playing in the background would feel so peaceful?
They didn't do much talking. Dean was so caught up in driving that his mind seemed to be miles from there. Castiel knew how much this meant to Dean, to be able to drive his Impala. But just as he thought that Dean had forgotten his presence, Dean turned to him, and reached across the seat to take Castiel's hand in his. Castiel straightened on the seat, feeling a tingling feeling at the nape of his neck. Dean held his hand, but he didn't utter a word. His eyes were back on the road, and the music was loud enough that Castiel couldn't hear the loud beating of his heart.
Castiel decided not to mention the gesture; he simply stared out his window, smiling out into the night.
Dean released his hand once they reached White Castle. He ordered two cheeseburgers, two milkshakes, and one order of fries on the drive-thru. Then they got back on the road. When they came across a desolate road, Dean pulled over on the side of it and they both got out.
They sat on the hood of the Impala and started eating. The night sky was a thing of beauty. They were out in the country, so most of the stars were brightly visible. They were glowing with intensity. Castiel knew that this was the longest both of them had gone without speaking to each other, but he didn't want to break the silent streak. Sometimes, he thought, words didn't measure up to the feeling of someone beside you. Holding your hand.
When they both reached in for the fries, they brushed their hands. Dean moved his hand away, allowing Castiel to take the fry first. Castiel locked eyes with Dean for a long moment before he decided he was full and looked away.
"You have a good time?" Dean asked, clearing his throat. In the quiet of the night, Dean's voice was almost like the blowing of the wind.
Castiel turned back to him. Dean was sipping on his milkshake, waiting for Castiel's reply. "I did," Castiel said.
"Good," Dean said. "Me too."
"I haven't had a cheeseburger in months," Castiel said, not wanting to stop speaking now that they had started.
"You must have celestial self-restraint," Dean said, snickering.
Castiel grinned softly. "Yeah, maybe."
"Sometimes, when the music is loud enough, I forget to think," Dean said. He was gazing up at the stars, but Castiel was looking right at him. "It's better that way. Not having to think. Tonight was good for me, Cas."
Castiel didn't want to imagine what Dean was afraid of thinking about. He knew a lot of it had to do with Hell. Most of it had to do with Hell.
"I'm glad to hear that," Castiel said, keeping his hands steady on his lap rather than reaching out to comfort Dean like he wanted.
A car drove past them on the other side of the road. The bright headlights made Dean look back down, and then he faced Castiel. "I wish I couldn't remember a damned thing, Cas. I wish you could make me forget."
"I can't." Castiel swallowed hard. The guilt was eating him alive. He knew how selfish he'd been. Only thinking of himself. He never, not once, considered that his choices would affect others. If he'd known, maybe things would have been different. "I don't have my grace anymore, Dean."
Dean snorted. "We can't have everything we want in life. I've known that my entire life."
Castiel pushed some of the food sitting between them away. He wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders, pulling him closer. Dean let Castiel hold him. Castiel leaned his forehead on Dean's temple, listening to the sounds of the night and the rhythmic breathing of Dean's breath.
Castiel wanted to tell Dean so many things. He wanted to say: You have me, Dean. I can't heal you, and I can't mend the past, but I'm here. He wanted to find a way to help Dean understand that he wasn't guilty of anything. That the guilt fell entirely on Castiel. But how? How could he convey that with words?
Dean returned to staring up at the stars in the sky. With his free hand, Castiel reached for Dean's hand and held it firmly in his. That seemed to ease both of them, the simple gesture of holding each other's hand. Castiel finally looked up, trying to see what Dean was seeing. His arm around Dean's shoulder loosened as he relaxed.
"I can't forget the bad stuff, but I can forget that the stars exist, right there," Dean muttered. "How is that possible?"
"Dean, look at me." Castiel released Dean's hand and captured Dean's chin in his hand. Dean blinked at him, bemused. His eyes went full black for a second, and Castiel smiled. "You're a demon."
"I am."
"You're beautiful," Castiel said, surprised to hear the sincerity in his voice.
"I am?"
"Very much so."
"Cas."
"You're human, too," Castiel said. "More human than a lot of humans, actually."
"You're confused," Dean said, frowning.
"I'm not," Castiel said. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and pressed his lips carefully against Dean's lips. He moved his hand from Dean's chin to his cheek, holding his face while he kissed him once more, this time a little bit more determined. Dean parted his lips, and Castiel kissed him again. When he pulled back, Dean's eyes were still closed. His brows were furrowed, almost like he was frozen in a state of confusion and want.
"Cas," Dean said, opening his eyes. "You should do that more often."
"Yeah?" Castiel said, removing his hand from Dean's face.
"Yeah," Dean said, smiling. His eyes were back to green, although their shade was all wrong due to the darkness of the night. "I'd like that."
"Me too." Castiel shivered, and he moved closer to Dean's body.
"You cold?" Dean asked, wrapping an arm around Castiel's back, pressing closer to him on the hood of the Impala.
"A little."
"Let's go back home." Dean reached for his keys in his front jean pocket.
Castiel grimaced, blowing warm air on his free hand. It was a chilly night, but not all of his chills came from the cold. "Maybe you're right. Sam will probably be home by now. He'll kill us both."
"I'll tell him it was your idea." Castiel gave him a look, and Dean laughed whole-heartedly. "Kidding. I'm kidding." He stretched out his arms and jumped down from the car. He picked up the mess they'd left behind.
Castiel went to the passenger side once again, glancing at Dean over the roof of the Impala. Dean winked at him, just like he'd done back in the garage. It was almost like he was daring Castiel to get inside the car with him. "Did you believe me when I told you that you're human, Dean?"
Dean looked away, already opening his door. "Does it matter? I know what I am, Cas. I'm a demon with a fake humanity."
"It's not fake, Dean."
"Yeah, okay." Dean shook his head. "Come on, let's go."
"Dean."
"Let's go, Cas." Dean got back behind the wheel.
Castiel sighed, opening his door and getting in. It was no use trying to convince Dean with words, and maybe even actions. But he wouldn't give up. Castiel had to help Dean see himself for who he really was.
On the way back home, Castiel tried to memorize some of the melodic songs on the radio. They were loud, and often their lyrics were very sad or very angry. He could understand why Dean enjoyed them so much. Castiel usually stuck to his slow songs, the ones that he played while he read before going to bed.
Castiel was busy reciting the current song in his head when Dean shouted something incoherent and hit the brakes. The Impala screeched in complaint, spinning around on the road a few times while Castiel held onto his seat. Castiel jolted forward, pressing into the tightness of his seatbelt. Then, everything was quiet.
Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and bolted out the door. Castiel followed suit, already reaching for his blade. He had no idea what was happening, but he was ready to fight.
When he made it out of the car on the lonely road, he noticed a dark figure right in the middle of the street, limping tiredly. Dean ran toward whoever it was, holding out his arms. Castiel followed behind, but he stopped in his track as soon as he caught side of the person, seconds before she collapsed on the cold ground at Dean's feet. Dean scrambled over, lifting Anna's head and holding her off the ground in his lap.
Shaken out of his momentary frozen state, Castiel walked over, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. Anna's shirt was covered in blood, which seemed to be coming from her stomach. It looked like a knife wound. Dean clutched at her stomach, putting pressure on the wound, and then Castiel heard Dean shouting orders, "Call the police! Call for an ambulance, Cas, hurry!"
Castiel nodded, searching every pocket until he found his cell phone. He dialed and announced his situation, never once taking his eyes off his friend. Anna's eyes had gone completely blank, and the pool of blood was quickly increasing.
Is she dead? Is Anna dead? Castiel couldn't ask the question out loud for fear that the answer would be yes. His knees went weak and he knelt on the ground, near the limp body of his best friend. Castiel's eyes flickered back to Dean for a single sign of hope, but he saw none.