I learned to live without all kinds of trouble
Still I'm lonely as a cloud when he drifts in
I guess you never can tell what the wind will bring
to Jericho, Jericho.

In Jericho the walls fell down so why can't I let mine go now?

Jericho - Greta Graines

Chapter 10

It had been quite a few days since he'd last been to Steve's bar, Dean realised as he walked through the door, dusk gathering speed quickly outside in the late summer afternoon. A few locals nodded at him as he walked past, before turning back to their poker game. Once upon a time he might have joined them, but after spending more and more time at home and places other than the bar lately, it just didn't feel quite right to sit down with them.

Steve grinned over at him as he sat down at the bar, setting the dishwasher to run before coming over. The bar was pretty empty, just the poker playing group by the door and a couple of men sitting on the other side of the bar.

'Hey stranger, you here for a drink or just dropping in?'

Dean laughed. 'It's only been like, four days man. Give me a break, I've been busy fixing a hell of a lot of water damage this past week.' He took the beer that Steve had uncapped and offered to him. 'It's not too bad though, I've got Cas at the shop a few days a week now so at least I don't have to close up altogether next time a storm hits.' Steve nodded.

'I've been meaning to ask, if I'm gonna be honest.' Dean raised a questioning eyebrow in response. 'People have been wondering… what's his story?' Steve continued nervously, and the two men sitting at the other side of the bar pretended very badly to not be eavesdropping.

Dean shook his head. 'You're asking me; I'm not even sure I want to know.' He took a long drink. 'He doesn't speak to his family, except one brother, and up until last month he'd never set foot outside of Jamestown, North Dakota in his life. That's pretty much all I've been told.'

Steve laughed at that. 'And this is the first place he comes? No wonder you get on so well, he must have a screw loose.'

'We don't get on well, we just get on. You sound like Sammy.' Dean drained the bottle in one last gulp. 'It's weird man. He's just… a bit odd. Sometimes he looks at things like he can't quite understand what they are, or he can't seem to remember. I had to help him buy a cell phone last week because he'd never been in a phone store before. He's always looking over his shoulder, like he's waiting for somebody to jump up behind him. If I were you, I'd wait a bit longer before you start asking him what he's up to, or he might just disappear right off and never come back.'

By now the two men at the bar were openly staring at the bartender and his customer. Steve glared at them, and abashed, they turned their faces back to their bottles. He cleared his throat and turned back to Dean, who was staring into the empty space in front of him, an odd look on his face.

'If you say so.' Steve agreed, finally replying. 'You seem to know him a lot better than you think, if you ask me.'

Dean started, and looked up, defences springing up instinctively. 'Yeah well, I didn't ask you.' He murmured, and stood up, suddenly feeling like he would rather be anywhere else. He mumbled a quick goodbye to Steve and brushed past the poker game, walking briskly into the darkening street outside. The heat had never quite picked up as much to the level it had been at before the storm, and the air carried just a hint of the end of summer in it now as it blew a few stray leaves down the empty street in front of him.

Funny, Dean thought, shoving his hands in his pockets against the slight chill of the air. It'd been such a long time since anyone new had moved into town, and all it had seemed to do was make him even lonelier than he had been before. It felt like forever since he'd actually wanted to go to the bar, and now that he had, it just didn't feel right. Something had definitely changed, and he wasn't sure at all that he was happy with it. He glanced at his watch and groaned - not even eight pm yet. Far too early to justify going home and drinking alone. He thought for a moment, hand toying with his cellphone in his pocket, then with the courage of the one beer he'd had so far gathering in his stomach, he pulled it out and tapped out a quick message before he could talk himself out of it.

Cas had been attempting to figure out his new vacuum cleaner, still shiny new from the hardware store in town, when his phone beeped loudly at him. It was still a fairly new experience to have people talk to him without being prompted first, so he dropped the unfamiliar looking bit of pipe that he was holding and hurried over to the kitchen counter. The radio played a local station quietly in the background as he walked over - he still couldn't quite get into the TV, not really seeing what was so interesting in the loud soap operas and gaudy chat shows, but the quiet background music of the radio had slowly seeped into his life over the past few weeks, and he didn't quite feel right without it now. He picked up his phone and read the message.

FROM: DEAN 19.48

are you busy?

Cas frowned. The only messages he'd had off Dean so far had been to do with the filling station or similar mundane topics. He quickly typed back a negative reply, fingers hesitating slightly over the modern touch-screen. He still couldn't quite get used to it. It wasn't long before his phone beeped with a reply.

FROM: DEAN 20.05

me neither.

Cas stared at his hand, wondering whether or not he should even reply to that. Was this just conversation, or was he supposed to be getting something from this exchange? Before he could think about it too much, the phone buzzed and beeped again.

FROM: DEAN 20.11

i think i got the right house. open the door?

Thoroughly alarmed now, Cas marched over to the front door and threw it open. Outside, just shy of the driveway, sat a battered looking old black car, sputtering as it sat there with the engine still running. It had probably once been a good-looking machine, but it had definitely seen better days. Dean, sat in the drivers seat, waved nonchalantly and raised an eyebrow, indicating Cas should come outside and join him. Cas gaped for a few seconds, before nodding slowly and closing the door behind him. He walked over and got in at the passenger side, wincing at the grinding noise the door made as he pulled it open. He glanced over nervously at Dean, not sure what on earth he should say, and awkwardly cleared his throat.

'Are we, um. Did you want to go to the filling station for something?' Cas tried weakly. Dean smiled over at him, looking tired. He patted the steering wheel gently and leaned his head back against the seat.

'I was thinking more like the lake.' He said quietly. 'I've got a six-pack in the trunk. You interested?' Cas wondered briefly if this was what they meant on those chat shows when they talked about people having 'breakdowns', but quickly nodded, noticing how the other man's eyes seemed to relax significantly once he did. They set off down the hill at a rickety pace, the car groaning unhappily at the steep decline as they barreled down the almost empty streets towards the edge of town.

'It was my dad's you know.'

Cas started, looking over at where Dean was sitting a foot or so away from him on the grass. The beer cans sat in-between them as they half-lay, propped up against the side of the car. Dean nodded, and tilted his head up to look at the clear sky above them, now fully approaching darkness.

'1967 Chevy Impala, bought second-hand but in pretty perfect condition in Kansas not long after it was made. Automatic transmission, power steering, 396 Big Block engine. He used to say, car like this'd be with you til the day you die.' He sighed and drained the can in his hand.

'It looks like it would be' Cas supplied quietly, understanding that there was more to this than he had originally thought.

'Six years ago, he was it driving down Highway 40 on his way back from a job in Nashville.' Dean looked over at Cas, who was trying to hide the fact he looked slightly confused.

'I thought you said he was in the army?' Cas asked quickly, trying not to interrupt too much.

'He was, for a while. Then he got himself kicked out, semi-honorable discharge when I was 12, never did quite find out why. After than he starting taking on whatever he could to get by, make sure Sammy and I were okay; mostly ended up doing private detective work for people who couldn't afford to hire a real one. Dirty work, shit hours, but it put a roof over our heads most of the time.' He cracked open another can and took a long gulp from it.

' It was 3 in the morning, roads should have been deserted. Wasn't even raining, visibility was just fine. Just before the turn off into Memphis, a 40 ton truck came out of nowhere ploughed into him from behind, turned out later the driver'd had a fit or something. Killed him instantly.'

They sat in silence for a few seconds, both staring out at the dark lake in front of them.

'I'm sorry.' Cas finally said, putting down his drink to one side. Dean shook his head.

'You shouldn't be. Guy was a bastard while he was alive, not many missed him afterwards. Mom died way back, Sammy was too young to really care, and I couldn't stand him. Bobby was pretty much his only friend - you know who called the other day?' Cas nodded, remembering when he had answered the phone in the garage to the gruff sounding older man. 'Well Bobby was more of a dad to us than he ever was. Still is, really. He runs a salvage yard in South Dakota, we stayed with him for a bit before he set me up here with the garage five years ago. Good man, Bobby. Always made sure Sammy kept focused on school and all that.'

Cas nodded, looking over at Dean properly for the first time since they'd sat down on the damp grass. He looked grim, rather than sad, and like he didn't quite understand what he was saying.

'They sent the car to Bobby afterwards, since he ran the yard and all. He didn't want it, said it had too many ghosts, so he gave it to me. Towed it all the way down here just because I asked him to, and it was pretty much just a heap of metal then.'

'It's a bit better now.' Cas smiled slightly, reaching back and patting the rusted paintwork behind their heads. 'Could almost pass for scrap.'

'You try getting parts in a town like this' Dean snapped back playfully, a hint of a lop-sided smile playing at his mouth. He sighed and shuffled down on the grass so he was lying down completely. 'I should have sold it for scrap years ago, I know that. I just... there's something about it. It reminds me of when things were different. Even when things were crap, I think... you can't help but want just a little bit of them back sometimes.'

'I hear that' Cas mumbled, watching as a lone firefly danced just above the water's edge in front of them. Dean leant up on one elbow and stared over at the man next to him.

'So.' Cas looked away from the bug. 'You know mine. What's your story? I got nothing but time, and it'd be nice if it was less depressing than mine, because getting bummed out over my own crappy life gets boring sometimes.' Cas smiled half-heartedly and shook his head.

'Believe me Dean, you really don't want to know.' Dean shook his head right back and reached over, pulling Cas's arm so he fell down to lie next to him on the cold earth.

'I'm in no hurry, and i've probably heard worse. Shoot.'

Yep, stopping it there. Next chapter will be devoted to Cas's story in it's entirety I think. Thanks for reading!