So, gay.
Gay, gay, gay.
He was gay.
That would explain why he'd been aroused by two men having sex, and when he'd been watching the straight stuff, it would explain why he was focused more on the man.
Another thing it explained was why, when he saw the men in the videos seemingly going insane over the women's boobs, he found himself questioning the appeal of a jiggling ball of fat with a nipple on top, in one of the videos that nipple having a piercing through it. There was nothing sexual about breasts. They had glands which produced milk during pregnancy to nurture babies. They were soft lumps on the chests of women. Completely unexciting, just a feature on a female.
Though admittedly, they did look slightly memorizing when they jiggled.
Cas, sitting in a hanging chair and staring blankly ahead of him, found himself wondering why people weren't built to be attracted to all people. But it was a built in thing, he guessed, people were born or made that way. There was no choice involved. If there was a choice, almost everyone would choose to be straight, to avoid backlash from the general non-understanding population.
Cas wondered what Dean thought of this new discovery. He wondered if he cared, if it changed anything, or if it made as little impact on him as finding out Dean's sexuality had made on Cas.
He wondered what Dean had been going to stay before Sam texted.
He wondered what Dean had been going to say yesterday before Sam texted looking for pictures.
He wondered briefly if Sam was spying on them and choosing to text at all of the moments he felt were leading up to something that felt like it might be important.
Then he had the horrifying wondering about whether it bothered Dean that he now knew he was living with a man who was attracted to men. He could see him as a predator or something. And Cas definitely wasn't going to be a predator, with how hard he was working to make sure he didn't make Dean uncomfortable.
It wasn't as though he hadn't accidentally thought about Dean that way in the past, in fact he had many times which was something that confused him in the first place. Though back then, he'd never assumed he was gay.
But yeah, he was gay.
Gay, gay, gay.
Just a casual fact that he couldn't help but linger on.
Like, now he knew that if he was going to do this whole humanity thing after the angels got back upstairs, if they didn't end up finding his grace, he wouldn't be doing as Metatron told him to do with finding a "wife." He'd be finding … a husband. It just sounded so weird. Almost as weird as finding a wife sounded, honestly.
He didn't know what to do with this information.
He had no desire to go out into the world and find that kind of life, even with this information in tow. His only desire was right now to help Dean with this case, and then …
Help him with any others in the future. And help Sam. Just like he'd been able to when he was an angel, only without his powers. He still felt useless without powers. But if they could use him in any way, any way at all, he would be there for them. For Sam. For Dean.
He had always done everything they asked, had always come running at Dean's every call, and he would continue to do that. His phone would never be off, lest Dean decide to call.
Although Cas wasn't sure whether he would or not once this case was over, because this case was … special. It was something only Cas could really do, but in other instances there was likely to be someone who'd do the job better than him … Cas wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the pretending to be a couple thing. If it was a normal, non-LGBT+ only building, Sam and Dean would have come as brothers and roommates, he was certain of it.
It was kinda funny, thinking about how they were pretending to be a couple and feeling like outsiders violating the rules of the building, when the two of them were the G and B in LGBT+.
And since the two of them were in that community, both of them attracted to men, technically that meant were they to really be in a relationship …
That Cas should stop thinking about that immediately, because it would never happen.
Despite it technically having a small gateway of chance of working out.
But still. It wouldn't happen in the first place. And Cas wasn't hoping it would.
He flicked open the book to where he'd last left off, and continued reading.
He'd lost track of time before he managed to stop himself and go back inside. He hadn't realized how long he'd been sitting. He was stiff, and his neck hurt from looking down at the book in his lap. He went inside, noticing Dean was in there, on the couch, and the TV was on. At first he felt like he should go back out and not disturb him, but Dean looked towards him at once, his eyebrows shooting up and he muted the TV.
'Hey,' he greeted. 'I thought you'd gone off on your own and left me behind.'
'I got distracted,' Castiel told him, approaching. 'This book is hard to put down. Every time it seems like I'll be able to put it down without feeling the need to read on … something happens.'
'Yeah, it does that,' Dean chuckled. 'By the way, I folded your towel and put it on top of the pile. It washed clean.'
'Good,' Castiel breathed, a sigh of relief escaping him as he sat next to Dean, keeping his book in his lap like a crutch to hang onto, because he wasn't sure what they were going to be doing next. 'Thank you. Did you talk to Sam?'
'Yeah, gave him an update,' Dean nodded. 'Told him what's going to happen tonight and about last night. Oh, and he asked about you.'
'Did he?'
'Yeah. I said we'd kept in touch. I told him your little anecdote about porn-bathroom-guy and I told Sam I told you about the case I'm on, but not the specifics.'
'Huh,' Castiel muttered, thinking it was nice that Sam seemed to be interested in what he was up to, and liking that Dean had said they were in contact. Then, he thought out loud, 'I wonder if that guy is still doing that. In the bathroom.'
'If he is, I bet they're missing you there,' Dean joked. 'Now someone else has to clean it up.'
'That's the best thing to come out of my leaving,' Castiel confessed, half-jokingly. 'My not having to deal with that anymore.'
'No, instead, you just get ectoplasm.'
'Ectoplasm doesn't come from a man's testicles.'
Dean almost choked on fresh damn air. Of all the things he'd expected Cas to say, that had definitely not been one of them. But … okay. He could … work with that. While attempting not to laugh. And also feeling a horrifying unexplainable blush trying to creep up on him, which shouldn't have been happening, because Cas had just stated a fact.
'Okay,' Dean relied carefully, trying to keep his breathing even, 'good point. Oh, and by the way, I finally read that damn newsletter.'
A quick subject change, to avoid having to face why he was suddenly trying to force away his blush that he desperately hoped Cas hadn't noticed. Why was this affecting him this way?
'Was there anything interesting in it?'
'Not really,' Dean shrugged. 'Some guy on the first floor got a dog. The drag queen – who's actually "Indie Ass" that was mentioned last night – is hosting a rewatch party for some show at a bar nearby. There's someone selling a keyboard. There's some general updates on the building and things going on in the area people could be interested in. And then there's us, right at the end, all the information they know printed up right there on the page.'
'Interesting name choice,' Castiel mused, thinking about Indie Ass.
'No real name listed, either,' Dean recalled. 'Maybe because it's a drag related news point. If it was related to the guy under the makeup they might've used his real name.'
'Perhaps,' Castiel nodded. Recalling ectoplasm, Cas suddenly asked, 'didn't you say we had to test the ectoplasm from last night?'
'Yeah,' Dean remembered, turning off the muted TV. 'Yeah, let's do that. Grab the tissue with the gunk on it, I'll get the equipment.'
They rose to their quick tasks, Dean retrieving the device – something Sam had acquired recently – from the cupboard and joining Cas at the table, where he was sitting examining the tissue, the goo just as thick and disgusting on it as it had been last night.
'Here, let me get some of that on this thing,' Dean requested, reaching out with the little tab on the machine, getting a scoop of the goo on the tissue onto it, trying not to inhale the stuff directly due to its unpleasant smell. 'Then I just …'
There was a switch on the machine that had to be pressed, then he had to put the dial to the substance they were testing. The blank screen flashed to life, the numbers getting ready to appear and …
0.
On the scale, it rated nothing.
'That can't be right,' Dean muttered in frustration.
He got even more of it on the tab. And waited. But there was no change.
'Try turning the dial,' Castiel suggested.
Dean turned the dial to the next several settings for substances, but the result didn't change. He set it back to ectoplasm and put the thing down, glaring at it as if it was disrespecting him. Though by not giving him a result he desired, it felt as though it was.
'This doesn't make sense,' Dean muttered to himself, while Castiel picked up the thing and examined it, but didn't find anything else that they could possibly do. 'I don't know how the hell this thing works. I'm calling Sam.'
Cas watched as Dean went through his recent calls and pressed the phone to his ear, waiting. He looked at the thing with the ectoplasm on it, frowning at the number on it that barely constituted a number. It rated a nothing on the scale … just … nothing. So … the thing wasn't dangerous, or wasn't manifested, or what?
Those questions Cas thought, Dean asked Sam and got answers to. When he hung up, he looked very confused.
'So, it's not ectoplasm.'
'It's not?'
'No. It's something else.'
'What does that mean?'
'I don't know.' Dean groaned and turned the thing off, using the rest of the tissue to wipe off the part of the device the ectoplasm was on. 'But we'll find out more tonight I hope.'
'And until then?'
Dean shrugged. He got to his feet and grabbed the tissue to throw away, it being no use to them now. He washed his hands for good measure after getting some of the unknown stuff on his finger, turning around at the sink back towards Cas who was watching him.
'Until then we just … hang.'
'What do you mean?'
Another shrug, then a bright idea followed by a mischievous smile. 'Feel like ping pong?'
'The table is occupied,' Cas pointed out, reminding Dean of the new tape player and his tapes.
'Stuff can be moved.'
'I … don't know how to play.'
'I can teach you.'
Castiel looked at the table warily, hesitated, then decided, 'fine. Teach me.'
Dean's replying smirk honestly frightened him a little.
But that was okay, because Dean was fucking shit at ping pong.
And so was Cas.
Dean could hit the ball when serving, but it usually hit the table, then bounced right onto the floor and rolled around resulting in a chase, or it hit the wall behind Cas and then resulted in yet another chase. And on the rare times Cas actually managed to hit the damn ball back, it went straight past Dean and halfway across the room, and once he hit it back with a swing from below so strong it hit the ceiling, bounced off the table at an angle and then flew back towards Cas and hit him in the face.
'It's not funny,' Castiel snapped at Dean's obsessive laughter which seemed to have no end.
'I'm – sorry,' Dean managed to wheeze through howls so loud that everyone else on the damn floor could probably hear him. Then he changed his mind at the look on Cas's face and decided, 'no I'm not.'
That resulted in Castiel whipping the ball at him unexpectedly and it bouncing right off his forehead. It signaled the end of Dean's laughter and the start of a blank look directed at Cas. Two blinks. And then Dean was laughing again, but at himself this time, and Cas joined in as the two of them turned in different directions to search for the ball again.
After that whole fiasco, it became more fun. They had been silently attempting to hit the damn ball back and forth, muttering curses when they failed, not really enjoying it. But now, Dean had put on some music blaring up from under the table, and they'd abandoned the back-and-forth thing. They switched between different things; who could get the biggest bounce getting the ball farthest from the table, then who could keep the ball balanced on their paddle the longest (they timed it) and then who could bounce it on their paddle the longest.
Time seemed to go by pretty quickly, the "oh shit, it's only three o'clock, what do we do for the rest of the day" vibe evolving into a "four o'clock, almost evening" one while they took it in turns counting how many shots they could hit against the wall repeatedly without missing the ball. Dean won once, Cas won twice, then Dean won once again. Now that it was a draw, they decided to call it a day and Dean figured he'd get started on cooking up some spaghetti.
'You meant that?' Castiel asked, when Dean suggested he start cooking. 'When you said you'd make spaghetti?'
'Of course I meant it,' Dean frowned at him as he placed the paddles and ball on the table, bending to put the tape player and tapes back on it, too. 'Why wouldn't I? Haven't I come through on all of my promises so far?'
'You have,' Castiel replied assumingly. 'I just … didn't think. That's all.'
'Well then,' Dean grinned, walking towards him, 'help me out,' he requested, slapping him on the shoulder, 'and fill a pot with water while I preheat the oven for the meatballs.'
Castiel was surprised to be asked to help with something like this, but he didn't object and got right to it. Then when his part was done, he stepped back and watched Dean work, enjoying the music still playing in the background, enjoying the relaxation of seeing Dean at ease as he prodded and prodded the spaghetti in the pot until it started to boil.
'How long will it take?' Castiel asked, once he saw Dean stirring and bubbles forming on the surface of the water.
'Around ten minutes,' Dean told him. 'Then I'll drain it and add the sauce and the meatballs. Speaking of the meatballs, grab those out of the freezer?'
Castiel once again did as Dean requested while Dean turned on the oven. Once those were in for the next ten minutes, he could relax and lean against the counter, occasionally stirring and keeping an eye on the boiling pot.
'You can go read,' Dean suggested, pointing at Cas's book on the coffee table. 'I'll let you know when it's ready.'
Castiel nodded, doing just as Dean suggested, the sofa welcoming beneath him after frantic ball searching for the past hour. His right arm felt as though it had gotten a good workout, his upper body too, and he was definitely glad they stopped when they did because any longer and he might be pushing it into stiff/painful territory.
The gory, bloody Seven Kingdoms welcomed him just as much as the sofa did, albeit with more blood, more sex and more plotting against everyone.
He was pulled out of that world too soon, although the smell of sauce and meatballs he hadn't noticed while reading was something he didn't object to while closing his book and going over to the table, sitting down where Dean placed the plates. Although it was tempting to start shoveling it in straight away, he waited for Dean to go grab some drinks and then sit across from him.
'Thank you for this,' Castiel told him, still trying hard not to just shove his face into his plate because it smelled so good. 'It looks … and smells … great.'
'Let's just hope it's not poisonous,' Dean replied optimistically, but joking.
'If it is, I guess that's two less people for the ghost to kill,' Castiel replied, equally optimistic, jamming his fork right into a meatball.
What Dean had cooked in the evening was better than in the morning. It showcased his culinary talents in an entirely new way with new flavors of all sorts involved. And spaghetti was really fun to eat, to suck up so long as the sauce didn't fly up in a speck and need to be wiped off with a napkin. Cas had to wipe off the tip of his nose twice, whereas Dean didn't seem to care and let his lips get stained orange with sauce and the flecks of sauce stay where they flew until each time he paused to take a drink, then again when he finished eating everything.
They didn't talk while they ate and finished near enough around the same time. Dean picked up the dishes and carried them over to the sink. Cas followed him over and stopped him before he could turn on the tap.
'Let me wash them,' he requested. 'You did it this morning.'
'Cas, I cooked,' Dean reminded him, 'so I should clean the stuff I used.'
'No, you cooked, so I should do the dishes because you've done enough.'
Dean raised his eyebrows and took a step back, surrendering, but grabbed the dishtowel.
'I'll dry,' he offered. 'You wash. It'll get done faster that way.'
Castiel nodded. That arrangement suited him just fine, so long as he felt as though he was helping, so the two of them got to work.
They were about half way done when there was a knock on the door and Dean went to answer it, letting Cas continue his washing without him, but peering over his shoulder to see who it was. When he noticed it was Harri and saw her nod and smile at him in greeting as he looked over his shoulder, he abandoned his task, dried his hands and headed over there.
'I just wanted to let you both know that we relocked the door leading to the hollows of the walls,' Harri was telling Dean, then Cas as he made it to Dean's side.
'So it was open?' Dean asked, mildly surprised as a ghost usually wouldn't need to unlock a door to get to a space in the walls.
'It was broken,' Harri confirmed. 'But there's a new lock on it. Oh, and cameras will be installed at either end of every hallway next week. There'll be something about it in the newsletter, but I thought I'd let those affected know personally.'
'Did you ever find out what that black stuff was?' Castiel asked curiously, receiving an approving look from Dean as he did.
'No idea,' Harri sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. 'But it wasn't easy to wash away, or so I'm told. Resilient. And it smelled awful. One of the janitorial staff said it smelled like rot. Or decay. But I don't see how it's possible to spread rot or decay in such a form, or so quickly …'
'I guess we'll never know,' Dean sighed, trying to keep some of the frustration out of his voice because he needed to make it seem like he thought he was one of the victims of a ridiculous late-night prank.
'Not unless we catch the culprit,' Harri agreed.
'Are you planning on that?' Castiel asked.
'We're hoping the cameras will catch something,' Harri sighed, looking hopeful but clueless. 'But you really never know. Now, I won't keep you, I noticed you seemed to be busy when I called on you. If anything else happens, let me know at once, won't you?'
'Oh, we will,' Dean bluffed, knowing that anything else that happened, unless it involved other people being affected, would be kept under tight wraps. 'Thanks for keeping us updated.'
'It's no problem at all,' Harri smiled warmly at them. 'All part of the job. Enjoy the rest of your evening.'
'We will,' Dean promised.
'You too,' Castiel offered.
Harri nodded last goodbye, beginning to walk back along the hallway. Dean closed the door and turned towards Cas, the two of them returning to their dishwashing post with mutual fazed looks on their faces.
'So, rot,' Dean remarked, picking up the dishtowel to begin his drying duties once more. 'It sounds plausible. Ghosts being dead and all.'
'Dead and decayed,' Castiel agreed. 'Perhaps literal semi-liquid rot is just … another form of ectoplasm. A stronger form.'
'Which means this thing is pretty damn well manifested,' Dean groaned. 'Maybe even a thing living here full time, not just appearing at will …'
'That would explain the knocking.'
'Yeah, and the whistling. And the lock.'
'So … it's living in the walls?'
'That's a big possibility.'
'So what do we do about it?'
'I don't know,' Dean sighed. 'I think we should just … do what we've got planned for tonight, then Sam will check in sometime tomorrow with everything he could find about for stuff that looks like ectoplasm but isn't. I'll text him about the smell thing.'
'It wasn't really noticeable last night,' Castiel frowned.
'We were confused,' Dean replied, shrugging. 'We were distracted. We didn't notice it, but it might have been there. Or maybe you just had to be … up close and personal with the stuff.'
'Maybe,' Castiel postulated. 'I think we should check inside the walls.'
'Do you?'
'There could be something … it could be in there,' Cas justified, looking sideways at Dean as he handed him the spaghetti strainer, the last thing to be washed. 'We could bring some salt. If it's there we can trap it. Question it. It's worth a shot.'
'You're right,' Dean agreed, nodding his head along as he dried. 'If nothing comes up tonight … then we do that tomorrow. Maybe we'll have more info them if things keep progressing at this rate.'
'Sam's research.'
'Exactly. So, until we can get busy with this again, the question is …' Dean paused, putting the strainer away and hanging the towel back on the cupboard door it was kept on, 'what do we do until tonight?'
Castiel shrugged, moving away from his post at the sink and walking back towards the living area, presuming that's where they'd be headed for at least a few minutes or so.
'Is there anything we need to do?' he asked, on route for the sofa where he'd left his book, Dean following closely behind him.
'Not exactly.'
'Then I suggest we do whatever we want,' Castiel reckoned. 'If there's any … human experience you feel the need to fill me in on. Like our house warming double movie night, or our ping pong playing and tape listening earlier.'
'You could use a lesson in aimlessly watching whatever's on TV with your feet up,' Dean suggested.
'Then turn on the television,' Castiel instructed, then remembering his shoes and cloth outside and thinking he'd better bring them in before he forgot them again he stood up and declared, 'I'll join you in a minute.'
'I'll have all of Westeros and beyond it to keep me company for that minute,' Dean jested, gesturing Cas's book.
'Try not to let anyone kill you,' Cas joked right back without looking back after passing Dean, yet somehow aware that Dean was now smiling in amusement at his retreat.
When Cas rejoined Dean on the couch, the TV was back on and playing a random show that Dean only seemed mildly interested in. Cas sat next to him, focusing on the TV and trying to get into what was on despite not knowing the names of the characters or the context in which anything was happening. It was hard at first, to relax, get into the whole TV watching thing which he hadn't really done in a while and when he had, only having gotten brief stints at watching things because he was usually busy with other things.
He'd missed television. He hadn't gotten to watch anything since those cartoons almost a year ago, when he helped Sam and Dean with that case. When lingering in the nursing home he'd experienced some bad quality daytime TV, then that was that until … well now, basically. It was ironic. He got back from purgatory and declared he missed television, then weeks later was away from it again.
The things that were on were interesting. Even the commercials, although it was frustrating when they played the same one twice during one break. And the shows that played weren't heavy or drama filled, but entertaining and the kind it was fun to watch while they were on but they wouldn't have you yearning for more afterwards, unless it was for fun and not for need to find out what happened.
They passed comments back and forth here and there and about a half hour in, Dean put his feet up on the coffee table. Castiel mimicked him ten minutes later and discovered he was more comfortable and relaxed at once. They watched one channel for a while, until seven, then flicked to another with a show less interesting so Castiel decided to read for a few minutes while Dean checked in with Sam via text, which he liked less than calling but there was no use for a call. Sam hadn't found anything yet but he had Kevin on it too, one checking books and the other checking the internet. Then they exchanged a few jibes, a few jokes and some comments about how research was tedious for Sam, while Dean got to lounge around in a fancy apartment and blah blah blah, then the conversation dried up as Sam got back to work and a decent show started, around 7:30, which Dean decided to get into watching, Cas continuing to attempt to read through it although taking several long pauses to watch what was going on, evidentially still listening even when reading.
Cas decided to make some hot chocolate when that show ended, leaving Dean to flick through the channels again in search of something interesting. They'd been watching TV for almost two hours now, occasionally pausing for conversation about one of the shows, but what else could they do to kill time until the building finally fell asleep? It was only eight, and Dean had settled on some show he seemed to know.
'I've seen this a few times,' Dean told him, looking over as Cas waited for the water to boil. 'It's pretty cool for a thing about fairytales. Don't tell Sam I said that.'
In fact, there were a lot of shows Dean found entertaining and interesting that he didn't tell Sam about. He often pretended to be less of a TV fan than he was. Another fun fact, but he happened to know this was a re-run of last week's episode, because this was not the Network it usually aired on and he'd watched the last few minutes of last week's episode and heard the next episode wouldn't be airing until December.
But like, Sam was still the nerdy one of the two brothers. Because this show wasn't nerdy. It was cool.
'Fairytales?' Castiel questioned, pouring the water.
'Yeah, like Snow White and stuff. But there's always a twist – that kid from that movie "Just Go With It" plays young Snow White sometimes. Come on, last time I watched a full episode a few weeks ago there was stuff about Peter Pan except he was evil. And last week I saw the ending, and he was even worse.'
'The boy who never wants to grow up and allows children to live with him in a land of magic and paradise and fairies is evil?' Castiel disbelieved, having heard tell of the tale throughout his time on Earth over the past years. He couldn't recall exactly where he'd heard it, he just knew that he knew of a lot of fairytales.
'Yeah, I know it sounds weird,' Dean agreed, 'but they'll explain. It'll probably make sense at some point. So how do you know about Peter Pan?'
'I don't remember,' Castiel relayed what he'd just been thinking about, bringing over the two drinks, with whipped cream and the last two marshmallows they had. 'I just … know. Maybe the fairytales invented by humans are something all angels know about because they're seemingly so common. Maybe I overheard a conversation I've long forgotten about. But most fairytales have the same gist in the end, as long as we're not talking about the original, darker versions. Like the actual story of Sleeping Beauty …'
Castiel shuddered. And then figured perhaps the former explanation for the fairytale knowledge was true, since he seemed to know more than he'd originally thought.
'I've heard that,' Dean replied, cringing as he thought about it. 'What the prince does … she wakes up pregnant … it's dark, man. All the originals are dark.'
'You know of the original stories?'
'I'm … sort of interested in stuff like that,' Dean admitted, looking as though he was shy about admitting it. 'There's a lot of stuff I'm interested in you wouldn't think I am. I'm like … Shrek.'
'What's a Shrek?'
Dean laughed, guessing he hadn't heard this particular tale.
'Shrek's an ogre from a movie series.'
'Why are you like an ogre from a movie series?'
'Because there's this one part where he says ogres are like onions because they have layers … so I'm saying I have layers too. Hidden ones. Unexpected interests. Secret interests – the fairytale thing is one of them.'
'Your secret is safe with me,' Castiel promised, giving him an odd look and muttering the word 'Shrek' under his breath afterwards. 'So who are those people?'
He was gesturing the people on screen. Dean explained who each was, thoroughly confusing him, then went about explaining the plot and developments of the show, which he understood more, then they got back to their fairytale conversation.
'What did you mean when you said most of them have the same "gist?"'
'A boy and a girl meet, usually at a very young age in their teens. They fall in love, either slowly or instantly. One of them is usually royalty. There's an obstacle, they overcome it, and live happily ever after. It usually results in the girl giving up everything to be with the boy. Like in … that one with the mermaid. She leaves her family and becomes human. Which sounds … oddly familiar, come to think of it.'
Dean noticed Cas frowning and made the connection.
'So you're Ariel, and I'm Shrek. Huh,' Dean huffed a laugh. 'An unlikely pairing.'
'Apparently, considering one's a mermaid and the other is an ogre.'
'Try not to think of it as a mermaid and an ogre,' Dean encouraged, 'think of it as someone now human who wasn't always human, and someone … who seems unapproachable at first, until you get to know them.'
'I knew found you unapproachable,' Castiel countered, raising his eyebrows at Dean.
'Oh, come on,' Dean scoffed. 'Guns blazing, shedding blood, acting pissed off most of the time … when we first met, I stabbed you.'
'You didn't know who or what I was,' Castiel rationalized. 'I could have been a threat. And in many situations, if you wait for an explanation, you die. And I presume you didn't want to die considering you'd only just come back from the dead.'
'You presume correctly,' Dean chuckled. 'So, you've never found me unapproachable.'
'No.'
'Not even once.'
'No, never.'
'You must be the only one,' Dean mused. 'Even Sam knows when to keep his distance.'
'Well, I'm not Sam,' Castiel pointed out, 'if you haven't noticed.'
'Oh, really?' Dean replied sarcastically. 'I had no idea. You're so alike.'
'We have some subtle differences,' Castiel replied, prolonging their little joke when clearly they both knew he and Sam were nothing alike. 'I'm shorter than Sam is. I have shorter hair. I wear a trenchcoat more frequently.' He paused, looking as though he was trying to come up with another difference and then added, 'and I'm gayer.'
Dean let out a boom of laughter, needing to turn away from Cas to regain his composure as quickly as he did, it being especially hard considering Cas's pleasantly smiling face, set so perfectly in non-laughter, almost looking smug at the fact that he could resist that temptation.
'Yeah, gayer,' Dean repeated, 'where Sam's attracted to pans.'
'He's what?'
'He told me he's pan sexual. I have no fucking idea what that means.'
'You should look it up and find out,' Castiel disapproved. 'It could be important to him.'
'I will, I will,' Dean promised him. 'He only mentioned it once. He was talking about this book he was reading all about that kind of thing, so I don't think it's something he wants me to know so we can have deep meaningful conversations about it. But I'll look it up.'
'Good,' Castiel smiled, approving this time. 'Even just to satisfy your own curiosity.'
'I'll do it now,' Dean sighed, pulling out his phone and going into settings to connect it to the WiFi, which he had yet to do, although he'd memorized the password from setting it up on his laptop. 'The password here is weird … "doubleshantay" … I wonder what it means?'
'I'm not sure either,' Castiel contemplated. 'What's a "shantay?"'
'I don't know, but apparently there's two of them.'
'Search that too.'
'I'll search that first.'
He typed "shantay" into the search bar, and shared his findings with Cas. In one case it was a person's name, in another a word from a Rupaul song which Ru declared meant "to weave a bewitching spell" and they came to the conclusion that in this context, building and area, it was probably the latter that it meant within the password.
He also read with Cas the definition of pansexual, frowning at a part of what it said, reading it out with distaste.
'I don't like where it says "a pansexual person can love not only the traditional male and female genders, but also transgender" people. Transgender people are "the traditional male and female" genders … they just have different junk.'
'The rest seems to make sense, though,' Castiel replied, looking over the definition again. 'Of the other genders pansexual people are attracted to.'
'Yeah, that part does,' Dean nodded, then distastefully again muttered the word '"traditional."' He sighed, putting his phone away and declared, 'so this has been a pretty educational day.'
'I agree,' Castiel nodded, folding his arms and looking towards the television. 'A lot of discussion of a topic I doubt many people delve into this much. And hearing you voice your opinions on these things makes my level of respect for you only grow higher.'
Dean was surprised to hear Cas say that, automatically turning his head towards him with raised eyebrows. Castiel seemed to sense he was being looked at and turned back.
'I didn't know you cared so much about this stuff,' Dean told him truthfully.
'I'm not exactly invested in caring about it,' Castiel replied, 'I just … care about humanity and letting people be who they are and do what they want to do. That's what it's always been about for us, remember? Freewill. This is just included in freewill. All angels have the knowledge that God never intended for there to just be two genders. He intended for there to be two sexes with the right reproductive parts to create more people, with either set of parts. It was always intended for humanity to figure out the rest and do with it what they wish.'
'Yet last week, you thought people could only be gay and straight.'
'That was never something we were to know about automatically,' Castiel shrugged, Dean listening carefully, highly interested in learning what all angels knew and what some grew to learn. Hearing about Castiel's past – or rather, creation and the knowledge he was granted with it – was a rare occurrence and he was appreciating it greatly.
'Then what did you know?'
'That God intended for men and women to reproduce, and for all people to love each other however they chose. And then I got to Earth, and when hearing about sexual orientation for years all I heard about was two which I've always been indifferent to. I remember when I went … sort of power crazed and tried to act as the new God I killed a group of people declaring God, or who I thought was me at the time, was against homosexuality. They never mentioned him being against anything in between, so I never assumed. In fact, only in recent months have I heard the term LGBT or LGBT+ and it's only very recently I learned what each of those letters stands for.'
Dean listened to him speak with utmost concentration. This wasn't something he usually discussed with anyone at all, it was just live and let live, hey that guy likes guys, hey that girl likes guys and girls, hey that girl was born male, hey that person over there prefers not to be called either a man or a woman. It was whatever, it didn't bother him, there was never any real need to get into discussing it with people until, well, now, besides the casual jab at the law now and then for being stupid and not treating all people with equality and whatever. But usually he steered clear of series topics.
'I think that's good,' Dean nodded seriously. 'That you're so … informed. As someone who used to be an angel it's interesting that you're just as knowledgeable about stuff as humans are. Especially considering you're human now.'
'I try to be a good person,' Castiel shrugged. 'That's all I ever tried to be. I tried to be a good angel, a good follower, until I realized that was bad. Now I just try to learn as much about humanity as possible, and I try to have the best opinions on things because frankly there are things you hear of happening that are completely ridiculous, like how people treat people who are different, or how people treat people with different colored skin, and I watched it all unravel for years, always thinking that this wasn't how things were supposed to happen … but it wasn't my duty to do anything about it, and now I can't. So I watch. And I try to be good and I try not to be like the bad people I've watched for so long.'
'You are good,' Dean reminded him.
'In some ways, yes,' Castiel nodded, 'but in others … I'm just as bad as people I've seen. Worse, even.'
'No, Cas,' Dean winced, 'that's not true. There's nothing bad about you.'
He placed his hand lightly on Cas's arm, internally screaming because Cas suddenly looked so down, and it wasn't right, he'd looked so confident and like he was in a decent mood just a moment ago and that needed to come back. Pronto.
'Many would disagree,' Castiel muttered. 'There's things I've done … people I've killed …'
'People who had it coming,' Dean reminded him. 'You just said they were bad people, you mentioned the kind of things they were saying … you're not bad, Cas. You're the best person I know.'
A smile started to creep back onto Cas's face, albeit a melancholy one.
'You really believe that?'
'Yeah, I do,' Dean professed. 'I believe it because it's true.'
The smile spread bigger and some of the sadness left it, Castiel's eyes flitting down, unable to meet Dean's for a moment, resting on Dean's hand on his arm. He glanced back up after a moment back into Dean's, seeing the sincerity, the true belief, which was uplifting beyond description. He looked right back into the focused gaze, a strange feeling, a pressure almost, in his chest and going up towards his throat, as if his chest had suddenly filled with air and was attempting to force him to speak words he couldn't find.
Then they heard a voice on the television hiss 'Neverland' and their heads snapped towards it, Dean's hand leaving Cas's arm at once, the absence Cas felt where the hand had left unusually pronounced.
'So Rumpelstiltskin and his father went to Neverland?' Dean questioned, looking between Cas and the television. 'That could explain … some things … but it complicates others …'
'What does it complicate?'
Dean began to fill in Cas on all the details he knew of Rumpelstiltskin's past.
It was an enjoyable episode of the show entertainment wise, but frustrating when it came to the end because Henry literally died and they didn't know what would happen next. They agreed to make this a weekly thing until they left, too, like the breakfast. Sundays were the days that consisted of Dean cooking breakfast and the two of them watching a TV show together at eight that night.
'What time do you think it would be safe to … y'know?' Cas asked, once they'd agreed and tired the subject.
'Ten?' Dean suggested. 'Ten thirty? We can scope the place out a little and see if it's safe first.'
Castiel nodded.
'So we have an hour at least.'
'Seems like it.'
'In that case, I think I'll take a break from television,' Castiel decided, getting to his feet and picking up his book. 'I'm going to go read outside. There's an outdoor light, isn't there?'
'As far as I know,' Dean confirmed. 'I might take a walk. Just down to the lobby, maybe step outside and see how busy it is. See if anyone's on the stairs.'
'That sounds like a good plan. People should be starting to retire to their apartments unless they're going out tonight.'
'I hope so,' Dean agreed. 'Enjoy your reading.'
'I will. I hope your walk is educational.'
'So do I.'
Castiel raised his free hand in a semi-farewell as he headed out towards the balcony, switching on the light on the wall perpendicular to the glass one before he headed out into the nicely lit balcony, beyond which was a blanket of darkness. He sat down in one of the stationary chairs, easier on his neck when reading where he could place the book on the table, and glanced up at the sky. The stars were out, and they were twinkling in their designated spots, none of them falling. Yet all of them dead. The sky was clear around them, a solid inky dark blue, black at first glance.
He really liked it out here, the sky, the quiet, the crisp air's bite as it was colder than it was earlier. He liked that he and Dean seemed to be getting along well in everything, with two new weekly rituals on top of that now.
If they found something tonight, or tomorrow night, what they thought would be a month would be cut short into mere days. That was a good thing, for the residents of the building. A bad thing for him. He'd thought it last night, about how selfish that was. He didn't get to be selfish about this, whatever was going to happen would happen.
He pushed away the thoughts and opened his book, attempting to lose himself in someone else's thoughts instead of his own.
He was moving steadily along, now distracted from his own thoughts, when Dean joined him a little over fifteen minutes later and put a plate and a mug down in front of him, taking the mug off of the plate after he did. He looked up from his book in slight confusion as Dean took a seat next to him and put a plate and a mug in front of himself, too.
'You don't mind me joining you, do you?' Dean asked. 'I made coffee and grilled cheese. Fuel up before we search ten floors of this place tonight.'
'Not at all,' Castiel replied, shaking his head. 'Thank you.'
'No problem,' Dean grinned at him. 'I brought a book. The same book, actually. I figured since I won't be driving long distance for a while, you know …'
'I didn't know you had an interest in reading,' Castiel replied with a frown. 'Besides in the car to kill time. You never struck me as someone who likes to read.'
'I don't generally broadcast it,' Dean shrugged, his eyes on the stars, Castiel wondering what it was he saw in them since everyone always saw them so differently. 'But I read for more than just research. You can't watch TV all the time.'
'That's very true,' Castiel agreed with a nod, 'you can't. How far are you?'
'Has Robert gone on a hunting trip yet?'
'No.'
'Farther than you, then,' Dean told him with a breath of a laugh. 'So I won't spoil it.'
'You reread books,' Castiel stated his observation.
'I never have time for new ones,' Dean shrugged. 'So why not reread old favorites?'
'Logical and enjoyable.'
'Exactly.'
Castiel smiled and took a sip of the coffee Dean had brought him. It would come in handy, keeping him energized during their search. It was very hot, a contrast to the cool breeze lapping at his face. He glanced over at Dean again, who had started on his sandwich and was staring out into the nothingness. He looked contemplative. A slight frown graced him. His eyes … they almost looked as though they were searching for something that couldn't be found.
'It's nice out here,' he stated.
'It's easy to lose track of time out here,' Castiel agreed. 'Or get lost in your own head.'
'It's easy to get lost in your own head no matter where you are, depending on what you've got going on up there.'
'True,' Castiel allowed, certainly knowing he'd done that enough times. He continued watching Dean, and he couldn't help but smile at him for a reason he couldn't find, then he let his smile drop away as he exhaled, turning away from his previous subject of observation.
'Something wrong?' Dean asked, now looking at Cas rather than into the distance.
'Nothing,' Castiel replied, and it was true. There was nothing wrong, but there was something else going on in his head, not something that was wrong, something that was tugging at certain parts of his mind, trying to make themselves known that he couldn't put into words. 'I'm going to keep reading now,' he decided, looking back down at the book he had one hand on and making a grab for his sandwich with the other.
'Me too,' he heard Dean say, and that was the last they spoke before delving into Westeros, one more ahead of the game than the other, but both in the same place surrounded by the same things and people there was no escape from, problems chasing every page turn.
There was silence but sips and chews and page turns for a while. It was peaceful, reading side by side like that. Castiel paused several times just to think about all the new things he was learning about Dean, and barely any time had passed at all. Mere days, and he already knew about movies he liked, shows he liked, that he liked reading, that he cooked, that he was an even better person than he'd already thought and that sometimes when he read he absentmindedly grazed his teeth over the nail on his index finger, right hand with right elbow resting on the table, his other hand holding the book.
Castiel tried to focus on the book, but Dean was so much more pleasant to take little glances at whenever he could. He looked peaceful when reading, concentration and relaxation becoming one as his eyes moved across the pages he turned.
It was after ten when Dean checked his watch and nudged Cas's arm slightly to get his attention. Castiel looked up from his book, a little startled.
'Finish the chapter you're on,' Dean urged, 'I'll check if the coast is clear then we can head out and search the place.'
'I'm … two pages until the end of this chapter,' Castiel informed him as he checked. 'I won't be long.'
'Don't rush,' Dean encouraged. 'The later the better, probably.'
Castiel nodded, getting right back to the book. Dean smiled and patted Cas lightly on the shoulder on the way in with his free hand, the other hand holding the plates, the mugs hanging around one finger, his book under his arm.
It didn't take long for Castiel to finish the chapter. When he went in, he locked the door behind him and turned off the light, noting Dean was setting up their equipment; two different devices to be switched on and made sure they were working. Castiel approached him and Dean handed him one of the devices straight off the bat.
'EVP,' he stated.
'The one that picks up sounds?'
'Exactly. And seems pretty quiet out there, so … going up first?'
'Yes,' Castiel nodded. 'If we want to be thorough we could even do everything twice. Do each floor on the way up, then again on the way down to the ground. And do each of the first few floors on our way back here.'
'Yeah, let's do that. And if anyone's around and asks …' Dean contemplated, looking for an excuse, 'we can say we're just walking around and checking out the place we live.'
'Yes,' Castiel nodded. 'So do I have to do anything with this?'
'No, just carry it around and keep an ear out and an eye on the little screen. And I've got …' Dean paused taking something else out of the cupboard, 'these too.'
They were two metal rods.
'What do they do?'
'If we come across with a spot with both EMF and EVP, these can be moved by spirits,' Dean explained, picking them up. They were light, and had a small bend big enough to be pinched between finger and thumb with no rod left over. 'You hold them loose like this, then they move in the direction of energy, or they can move to one side to answer yes or no questions we could ask.'
'You're very good at your job,' Castiel told him, flashing him an approving smile.
'I know,' Dean grinned at him. 'There's more to it than it seems. More equipment for longer searches than general ones. And don't forget …' another pause, bending to the cupboard again, 'the salt.'
It wasn't a huge sack of salt, but it would be enough if they needed it urgently.
'And that's everything?'
'That, and our phones.'
'Give me the salt,' Castiel requested, holding a hand out for it. 'So you have a hand free for the rods.'
Dean handed the salt over and Castiel secured it in one arm, his hand on the base the side of it nestled into his own side. The EVP reader was in his other hand. Dean grabbed the rods tightly in one hand the EMF in the other.
'You ready?'
'I'm ready,' Castiel confirmed. 'Make me into a better hunter.'
Dean laughed as they headed towards the doors.
'You improve every time,' Dean grinned, confident and playful.
'You're in a good mood for someone about to go ghost hunting,' Castiel commented quietly as they entered the hallway.
'Am I?' Dean asked. 'It must be because I like working with you.'
'But … why?'
'I don't know,' Dean shrugged, holding the EMF towards the glass wall near their door, Cas doing the same with the EVP, neither getting a reaction, so the two of them headed up along the corridor speaking in hushed voices. 'I think it's because I like to see how far you've come. Because you know how you've said more than once that I said you sucked?'
'Last week when I got you that case and this week when you came for me to help with this one,' Castiel acknowledged.
'Yeah, well, you used to suck.'
Castiel chuckled, smiling at the ground.
'I know.'
'But last week you did better than I ever could,' Dean went on, 'and now you're so … ready. And you have all these good ideas, like checking twice … and it's nice to see, man.'
'You have no idea how much I appreciate that,' Castiel told him, and if both of his hands hadn't been full he would have put his hand on Dean's shoulder to further solidify that point.
'Really?' Dean asked, like is surprised him as they continued down the hallway with no results.
'Yes,' Castiel stressed. 'I'd like to be bluntly honest for a moment, if you don't mind.'
'Go ahead.'
Dean looked so open to whatever Cas had to say that it gave him some confidence, and he took a breath.
'For a while now … I've found myself constantly looking to you for validation.'
'Validation for what?'
'Just … general validation,' Castiel explained. 'For years, in some things, actually. I've always needed to know I helped you sufficiently and that you're happy with what I did. I've always wanted you to think that when hunting I was at least decent. And now even more, I've been trying to impress you for days with my humanity. Being normal. Trying to act like this is something I'm used to. In my head I know it's stupid and that I don't need to live up to anyone's standards but my own … but my standards only come from your validation. And I've never known why.'
Dean stopped. They were past the end of the corridor now, at the railing that stopped them from falling four floors to the empty and quiet lobby below. Castiel stopped with him, assuming he'd gotten a reading, but when he saw how Dean was looking at him that wasn't the cace.
'It's funny you say that,' Dean said quietly, or softly considering he had to speak quietly anyway, 'because that's exactly how I feel around you.'
'Is it?'
'Always has been,' Dean sighed, as if it was a burden to think about. 'I mean, look at you. Look at what you did. You walked right into my life with sparks flying and handprints on my shoulder and wing-shadows and lightning. You were this … superior thing before I got to know you. And then you were still this superior thing. And you still are now – and yeah, I know, you don't have your powers – but that doesn't stop you from being more powerful than I'll ever be.'
'I don't … understand,' Castiel said stressfully.
'It's not what you are,' Dean explained, 'it's you. You are just … intimidating!' he was getting higher pitched now, moving his hands with his words. 'And you're badass! And you just sit there, or you stand there, and there's just this look … and when there's no look, you're just this unreadable blank page and frankly, sometimes, it's terrifying. So I find myself … everything I do, I try to cater to you. I want to make you comfortable so you're not quite so intimidating. I want you to validate that what I'm doing is working. I never went to show weakness around you. I need everything to be good enough for you. And now I hear you're doing the same for me and I just …'
Dean stopped, sighed and hung his head, a laugh dripping with irony coming out with the tiniest shake of his shoulders.
'Dean,' Castiel said carefully, reaching out his occupied hand and placing against Dean's shoulder, close enough to what he wanted to do. 'To be weak is to be human,' he told him simply, 'and to be human is to be strong.'
Dean looked up at him, a frown set above his eyes.
'You think so?' he asked.
'I know so,' Castiel promised. 'I know so, yet I wish I could adhere to my own knowledge. I do adhere to it … I just wish I could adhere to it around you.'
'But you can,' Dean whispered, a whisper laden with desperation for Cas to understand. 'You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to be flawless. I've been saying it for days. I just want you to be you. Ask questions you think are stupid. Make random statements that don't make sense. Sit upside down on the couch with your legs in the air and a damn bag of chips on your chest getting crumbs all over the floor, I don't care. I want you, not some perfect vision of who you really are.'
'And I want to be around who you really are,' Castiel stressed. 'I appreciate everything you've shared with me that you wouldn't normally, I appreciate every little thing we've discussed I know you wouldn't generally discuss with anyone else and I value everything you've shown me. But … you're too perfect, too. And that's what intimidates me.'
'And you intimidate me.'
'I don't mean to.'
'Neither do I.'
'So … what does that mean, then?'
'It means we've been sabotaging each other,' Dean realized. 'We've both been trying to act like we're better than we are. Hiding things that we'd normally say or do … for years,' Dean admitted the last part as he thought of it. 'No more. We talked about honesty. We should act on it.'
'I think we should.'
'I'll go first. I dropped two pieces of bacon on the floor before frying them this morning and I don't know which one of us ate them.'
'You what?'
'Your turn.'
'I …' Castiel hesitated, knowing they were doing the honest thing but not sure whether his was too extreme of a confession or not. He took a breath and braced himself. 'I used your laptop to watch porn.'
Dean was surprised he'd admitted that, even though he already knew, and he was more than a little impressed.
'No biggie,' he shrugged. 'I do that all the time.'
'And as for your confession, I ate a pickle out of street trash, so bacon that was dropped before it was cooked isn't exactly a huge issue for me.'
'You fucking did what?'
'I was starving, Dean,' Castiel defended himself. 'And homeless. But don't worry – it was before you asked me to leave the bunker.'
'Thank fuck,' Dean muttered. 'If I knew it was my fault you ate a garbage pickle …'
Dean sighed darkly. Castiel patted his shoulder, where his hand still was.
'It wasn't,' Castiel swore. 'I promise.'
'Never do that again,' Dean instructed.
'I won't. I won't need to, presumably.'
'No, you won't,' Dean confirmed. 'Not if I have anything to do with it.'
'I'm very grateful.'
Dean grinned lazily at him. Then he paused, smirking.
'So was it good porn?'
Castiel shrugged, indifferent.
'It was decent,' he commented. 'The women looked like they were screaming a lot. When there were no women it was … better.'
He wasn't about to admit how much better.
'That'd be where the gay thing kicks in, then.'
'Probably.'
The two of them shared a grin and a laugh, and Dean was smiling with his eyes. He rarely smiled with his eyes. Finally, as he sensed their conversation coming to a conclusion, he sighed a content one.
'Put the shit down for a minute,' he instructed, gesturing the salt and the EVP, and putting the rods and the EMF on the ground, Castiel following suit. 'And come here.'
Dean made a motion with his hand, beckoning Cas towards him. Although it wasn't obvious right from the beginning, Cas somehow knew what Dean was doing and stepped towards him as Dean's arms opened, and the two of them shared a brief and gentle hug. When they stepped apart, Dean let one of his hands linger on Cas's upper arm, rubbed it up and down twice then gave it a playful slap.
'There we go. So no more being something we're not.'
'No more being something we're not,' Castiel promised, ducking to the ground to retrieve what he'd put down. 'And I don't need your validation anymore, either. I know I'm good at this. I hold this EVP detector very well.'
'Almost like you've been doing it for years,' Dean laughed, joining in on the joke about the easy job they'd had so far tonight. 'Now come on. We've got a ghost to catch.'
So the two of them veered right up along the walkway, on route past the elevators and the stairs to go and check the other side, ease slipping into their walk, Dean gently nudging Cas's shoulder with his own as they went, laughing quietly, about their mission.
A/N: Regarding the OUAT episode they watched: it originally aired on November 17th, 2013, wheres this is the following week, the 24th. But I read the calendar once and for some reason thought the 17th was a week after the 13th so I just made an excuse so I could keep in all of their bonding over fairytale knowledge. Re-runs save the day ... even if there were none.