The full explanation of what happened took the entire way home plus another ten minutes sitting in the car out in Bobby's driveway to get everything pieced together for Sam. The poor guy was out of it for more than half of the good stuff so he needed the rundown. Now, as he sits in nothing but a tattered, brown fleece blanket in the back seat next to his pregnant sister-in-law as she's currently occupied by an angel of the Lord, he can only think…
"What the fuck?"
Broken completely, Dean just sighs after he gets the whole story out and rests his forehead on the steering wheel of his car.
"It's not been the best day," Bobby tacks on, patting Dean on the shoulder from the passenger side as he hold his flannel shirt against his head to stop the bleeding. "So I say we all get nice and drunk and forget all about it." He gives Sam a look to let him know that now was not the time to keep this conversation going.
"Just let me get some clothes first," Sam answers and starts to get out of the car, Lizzy's hand reaching out and grasping onto his forearm lightly.
"I don't think drinking with a concussion would be wise," her voice says, her other hand pressing into the fabric Bobby has pressed over his head wound. She closes her eyes and bows her head.
As soon as she touched them she lets go.
Sam rolls his wrist and doesn't feel any pain. "Cass, ah… thanks."
Bobby pulls the shirt away from his head, the blood still there but the wound suddenly gone, along with the radiating pain he had felt. "Yeah, um, thanks…"
"It was Elizabeth's idea," Castiel explains as he looks between the two of them with Lizzy's eyes. "She was angry at me for not doing this sooner. She insisted."
"But won't that drain some of your power?" Sam asks, worried about his sister in there.
"Yes, it will take slightly longer to recover but as I told you, Elizabeth insisted. She's not exactly easy to go up against."
"Don't we all know," Bobby jokes with the truth and looks at the angel wearing his adopted daughter. "Thank you, Liz."
Castiel tilts his head. "She says don't be an idjit."
"Fucking brat," Bobby rolls his eyes and opens his car door. "Time to forget today."
Sam pauses before he follows, looking right at Castiel/Lizzy. "Seriously, thank you… Lizzy."
"She says it was her fault anyways. She owed you one."
Sam shakes his head and reaches for the door, opening it and scooting out fast, running for the side door in the cold of late January in just his one item of makeshift clothing. None of this was her fault, especially not his arm, but he chooses his battles in the situation and he does it wisely.
Bobby gives Dean one simple look, not of pity but understanding, and heads into the house along with Sam.
It's quiet in the car for a few minutes, Dean just resting his head on the wheel and Cass sitting quietly in the back seat, looking out the window and seeing through Lizzy's eyes.
"I am just as uncomfortable with this as you are… I want you to know that, Dean," he lets the human know in Lizzy's voice.
"Not… fucking… possible…" Dean complains slowly, everything getting to him far too much.
Castiel sighs. "She misses you, I can tell you that for certain."
"Don't make it worse," Dean lifts his head and sits back. He glances at Lizzy's face in the rearview mirror and looks away right after, not actually seeing her at all in that reflection. "Can you… uh, can you just let her know… I don't think it's her fault?" He sighs heavily, a hand washing down his jaw. "It wasn't. It wasn't her fault… Sam's getting hurt."
"You just did so yourself," Castiel lets him know.
Dean nods, glad he could let her know she wasn't on the hook for that, not like he made her feel like she was in the heat of the moment. "I fucked up."
"How so?"
"Let me count the fucking ways…"
"I can tell you Lizzy only sees one," Castiel tells him with his wife's tone. "She's only upset with one thing…"
"I yelled at her," Dean interrupts and admits, knowing Lizzy can hear him and knowing what it is that Lizzy is referring to. "I fucking yelled at her and I shouldn't have." He looks down at his left hand, the silver ring on his finger reminding him that he pledged his life to her, to love her no matter what and to never treat her like garbage. Once more he let his damaged ego get in the way of that. "She did her best, I know she did. She would never let Sam down." Dean shakes his head and huffs a depressed laugh. "You know, you tell yourself that you won't become something, that you won't be the one thing that you fear turning into more than anything… and then… and you see it in yourself… and, and it makes you sick to your stomach…."
"But you still spoke to me like that, Hot Shot."
Dean snaps his head around to look at Lizzy when her voice sounds like her, all full of warmth and soul. When he sees her he knows she's back and Cass is not taking the helm. Her eyes are bright and honest, her face smiling warmly.
"Yeah, it's me," Lizzy says to him, moving to the center of the seat to be closer to him. Dean turns sideways to face her and she reaches over the seat, taking his hand in hers. "Cass let me drive for a minute."
"Just a minute?" Dean says with sadness at the news.
"Just a minute," she says with a small grin, trying to make it easier for him. "He's gotta be in charge and make sure I don't spend too much energy. The sooner he heals me up the sooner I get to be me again."
"I'm so sorry," Dean jumps to the apology before his time is up. "L, I never meant to talk to you like that."
She squeezes his hands. "Makes me so fucking happy to hear you say that. Now I don't have to slug you in the face like I planned to."
"You still can if you want to."
"I'll keep it in mind." She smiles warmly. He's never one to actually apologize like that. Miracles are real. Dean Winchester admitted wrong doing without prompting. Holy shit.
"Damn, L. I… I went into John mode. I became dad and that… that, that thing I was, it disgusts me. It's not me. Or at least I don't want it to be."
"It's what you know and what you've seen. Baby, to a certain degree, you couldn't help it. Not that I'm happy about it… but you can't stop what John did to you."
"Becoming him, in that way, is my worst nightmare… well, just after anything happening to you and our son." Dean bows his head. "Guess that makes today my fucking nightmare come true, right?"
He feels one of her hands press against his cheek and he looks at her again.
"Our boy's ok," Lizzy reminds him. "So am I."
"You have an angel in there with you. That's far from ok."
"Well then… I'll be ok in a day or so," she reminds him with a look of sheer love. "And I'm feeling pretty good right about now. You apologized."
"So?"
"Did John ever once apologize for everything he put you through?"
Dean sits for a few seconds, thinking it over. "Once. Right before he died…"
"It took him death to say how sorry he was for raising you the way he did yet the first thing you did when you had the chance was say you were sorry to me," Lizzy tells him, brushing her thumb across his cheek. "You're better than him, Dean. You can't help the lasting impression he left on you but you have something John never had."
"What's that?"
"The ability to be humble."
He furrow his brow with her answer.
"And it takes a strong and truly beautiful man to humble himself when he knows he needs to," Lizzy further explains. "You are an exceptional person. I know you still don't believe me when I say that but it's true. And you proved it today. You apologized. Five years ago you would never have been able to do that."
"Never," Dean huffs with the idea. Damn, he used to be kind of a dick.
"And I would have had to put you in your place through a severe beating because of that… but you've grown up."
"About time, right?" he grumbles.
"I was wondering if it'd ever happen," she lightly digs. "But you're better than him, Dean. You are. And you will never be John. I wouldn't be with you if you if I thought you would turn into that." She leans forward, grabs his jaw, and kisses him deep and slow just one time. Without letting him go she says, "I love you more than anything. You are an incredible husband. You will be a phenomenal father. I can't wait for Sammy to get here so you can prove that… just not for another two months."
"I…" Dean pauses and swallows his emotions so he doesn't break. "I so… don't deserve you."
It's an old standby he uses, something he says to her all the time, but this time there so much meaning in it that it feels different, heavier.
"Yes you do," Lizzy assures him and kisses him once more. "You absolutely do. You came for me today and you always will. Every time I've truly needed you… you've been there. Dean, you are that knight in shining armor that every girl dreams about finding but never does. Everything you've ever done is for me and our family… every member of it. What you deserve? It's so much more than you'll ever know."
With that Lizzy crushes her lips against the man she loves and lets him know just how much she does in fact believe everything she just said to him.
Dean clutches to her jaw over the back of his seat with desperation all of a sudden. Her forgiveness is more than he feels he deserves and once more she's proven how far she's willing to go to keep this family together.
"I love you," Dean says quickly through his need, pressing his lips frenzied against hers again. "I love you, L."
"And I love you too," Lizzy says with a bright smile and a choked up voice, slowing her role a bit and kissing him sweetly one more time. "But I gotta go."
Squeezing his lids shut with the terrible news, Dean lowers his head and presses his forehead against hers, the unsteady breath in he takes giving him away instantly.
"Hey, you've left me to hit the road so many times in the past seven months," she reminds. "I'll only be gone two days. You can hack this."
Dean sighs one more time but doesn't move or let go of her.
"I'll see you soon," Lizzy tells him, her mouth in a smile as she looks at him. "When I get back we find a way to kill the Mother and we'll run away."
This makes Dean open his eyes and look at her.
"We'll leave," she repeats. "We'll pack it in and drive. Get that house in California and raise our son there. You, me and Sammy, happily ever after and all that shit."
Dean smirks slightly and huffs a quiet laugh. "Sounds good." He doesn't believe it will happen that way but he wants to. He wants to so badly it hurts so he doesn't rebut her when he has to say goodbye.
Lizzy just smiles. "We love you, daddy. And get that face ready for a shiner when I get back, huh?"
Dean nods his return and watches Lizzy sit back in the car seat. She looks at him with complete fondness before her face drops completely. She sits up a little taller, staring at Dean with new eyes once they flash a brilliant blue very quickly.
"I hope that helps get through these next days," her voice says to him but he knows very clearly it isn't her.
"Yeah… thanks for that, Cass," Dean says with bitter anguish as he opens the door of the Impala and gets out. He walks to the side door of the house, ready to get as drunk as he possibly can to make it all easier to hack.
"Can I as-sk you something'?" Sam wonders to his brother as he lays stretched out on the floor of the living room, whiskey glass in hand and still half full.
"Shoot," Dean answers, downing the rest of his seventh or eighth glass of bourbon from the couch where he's sprawled out.
"You serious-sly happy to hav' me back… or did you wan' little me to stick around?" Sam peers up at Dean with his back pressed to the old carpet, looking for an answer.
"I'm happy, Sammy," Dean says, reaching for the bourbon bottle on the end table to pour another drink. There just couldn't be enough drinks after today.
"You sure?" he tries again and props himself up on his elbows. "I mean… I mean, I guesss, the more I'm thinkin' 'bout it…"
"Spit it out, Foghorn," Dean makes fun with Sam's stuttering, settling a little more into the corner of the couch, his legs stretched out across the cushions.
Sam takes a second to compile his drunken thoughts. "I'd understand."
Dean looks to his brother with a furrow brow and surprise in his eyes.
"Like, you always been there f'r me," Sam tells him, turning into the usual open and far too honest talker that Sam always becomes when he's had too much. "And want good things f'r me. Startin' ov'r… that sounds good."
Dean's too shocked to talk.
"No more hell, an' wall in my head that could fall down… no more guilt an' blood… it's like you could erase it all and start clean. I c'n see how that'd be tempting. I c'n see myself wantin' that f'r Sammy if his life got crazy like ours. I hope it doesn', but… you know…."
Dean huffs a laugh with still running surprise. "Well I'll be damned. Sam agrees with me."
"Don' get used to it," Sam answers, lying back down with his head on the floor. He looks up at the ceiling. "I know you'd take care ah' me… Lizzy too. Thanks for that."
"Yeah, well… we don't have to because your annoying adult self is back," Dean semi-bitches and takes a hefty sip of his whiskey.
Sam laughs at this handily. "Only annoyin' when 'm drunk."
"Damn straight," Dean smiles wide, actually thinking a drunken Sam was in fact not annoying but refreshing in a way. He was never so tightly wound when drunk. Aw hell, even Dean's a little more open and willing to speak when this drunk. "Sam, I'm glad your back. Honestly."
"Yeah?" Sam wonders with surprise.
"Definitely," Dean answers, a big sip more down the hatch. "You think I would make it through goin' after the Mom of All alone, without my stupid kid brother sidekick?"
Sam laughs. "She'd kill you in a second."
"Whoa, whoa… let's not exaggerate, ok? I'd get pretty far… but I wouldn't get the job done," Dean admits, thinking it's very true. "Not without you."
Sam doesn't answer that. It was too heavy anyways.
"Plus, you're Uncle Sam," Dean says with total levity. "You gotta be there for my son. You gotta help keep him in line."
"Fuck that," Sam says, not liking the wording Dean uses there. "You keep 'em in line. S'your kid. I'm gonna spoil 'em."
"Spoil him?"
"Hell yeah," Sam says, eyes slipping closed as he speaks. "Gonna buy 'em shit you don' want 'em to have…"
"Like what!?" Dean asks, not at all believing Sam would do such a thing.
"Jet Li movies," Sam says with a hazy smile on his lips.
"Fuck Jet Li!"
"Fuck you," Sam returns with. "And when you an' Lizzy wan' 'em to save room for dinner… we're goin' out f'r ice cream."
Dean grins wide with that thought, his own son out and about with his brother, knowing his brother will treat him so well and he'll never have to worry.
"An' we'll read books, lots o' books," Sam keeps going, his voice fading more every second. "All the books, like you did with me."
Swallowing hard, Dean wishes Sam could remember that they did that very same thing just a day ago. That was a good moment, one of the few rare one they've managed in the past few years. Dean's going to hold on to that as hard as he can.
"You were a good brother, Dean" Sam says to him, eyes closed and body slack with sleepiness. "We had momentss that… sucked, but you tried for me."
"Eh, you woulda done the same for me, Sammy," Dean tries to brush the heavy comment off.
"You're gonna be a good dad," Sam keeps rambling. "You shouldn' worry 'bout that so much. You think you'll fuck Sammy up, don' you?"
Dean pauses, huffing once as he was about to play this one off too but he doesn't. It's a rare moment that Sam and he get to talk honestly. He should take it.
"Am I that obvious?"
"Yep." Sam raises his glass and manages another sip without sitting up, spilling a little in his effort.
"Yeah…" Dean looks down into his glass with shame. He drank far too much tonight, something he's going to need to cut down on. Something his father did far too many times. "I don't wanna be him, Sam. I don't."
"You're not him," Sam answers easily as he knows who Dean is referring to.
"I sometimes am."
"Yeah, but e'ryone is their parents to some… de-degree. But you aren't him. You'll n'ver be dad."
"You really think that, don't you?" Dean questions.
"Know it."
It's the certainty in Sam's voice that gets him. Dean for once actually listens to someone and believes them. Lizzy's told him, Bobby's told him a million times, but he needed to hear it from the one person that would really, truly know. Sam was there, he saw all of their dad. The good, the worse, the really ugly… if anyone could tell him with confidence that he wouldn't become John Winchester it would be Sam.
"Thanks, Sammy," Dean says, his voice quiet. "I actually really needed to hear that."
There's no response to that other than even breathing with just a hint of snoring deep in it.
Dean looks down and laughs small when he realizes Sam passed out drunk on Bobby's living room floor.
"I am glad you're back, Sam," Dean says as he kills the rest of his own glass and gets comfortable on the couch, closing his eyes too. "So fucking glad you're still around."
Inhaling deep and moving a bit when he wakes up suddenly, Dean groans with how terrible he feels already. Moving his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the feeling like sandpaper and the taste stale and disgusting, he knows this hangover will be a good one. It's been a long time that he drank that much, so much that it killed his morning. He's learned to deal with the occasional slight hangover but this? This takes the taco.
"Uh," Dean says, rolling to his side. "Sammy." His rough voice looks for his brother that he left asleep on the floor.
There's no response and no sound of movement so Dean pries open his bleary eyes and looks to the side.
"Damn it!" Dean says as he jumps in his place on the couch when he doesn't see Sam on the floor but Lizzy sitting in Bobby's chair, staring at him. "What the fuck, L? You scared the shit outta me."
"That was not my intention."
Her flat tone makes Dean take another look at her. She's sitting with her posture tall and ridged against the chair backing, her hand resting on the upholstered arms and the intense, unblinking look in her eyes reminds him of the day before.
"Right," Dean laments, sitting up slowly while groaning with the pain in his head. He hunches over, elbows on knees and head in hands. "Cass. Why are you sitting there staring at me at…" He checks his watch. "Seven in the morning? Shit."
"Elizabeth was worried," Castiel explains in Lizzy's voice. "She didn't like how much you drank, you or Sam for that matter. She gets concerned when you use that much alcohol as a crutch."
"She's probably gonna hate this move even more then," Dean comments, reaching out to the end table for the nearly empty bourbon bottle from the night before. He takes a big swig straight from it.
"What does hair of the dog mean?"
When Dean finishes his sip he looks at Castiel to answer, knowing it's Lizzy that's thinking of the term. "It means I feel like stomped on crap this morning."
"Ah," Lizzy's head nods when Castiel understands. "You are experiencing alcohol withdrawal."
"Not for long," Dean quips and takes another sip, really needing to feel better.
"I would heal that hangover for you but…"
"Save your energy, Cass," Dean says to prove he understands. "I can handle this. You just get my girl back to me healthy."
"Lizzy thinks you cannot handle this," Castiel informs him. "She's very uncomfortable watching you drink first thing this morning."
"Then stop watching," Dean bitterly answers, standing up and bringing the bottle with him.
"Dean."
"What?" he stops and turns to look at his wife's face.
Castiel stares off for a moment, tilting Lizzy head as he listens to her. "She says you're not him so stop acting like him."
Dean's face grows dark and he grits his teeth.
"I assume you know who him is?"
"Sure do," Dean answers, placing the bottle onto the closest antique table and walking away from Castiel/Lizzy. He can't deal with this right now. "Cass!"
"Yes?" Lizzy voice answers.
"Fuck, not you… my dog," Dean corrects acridly. "Cass, buddy!" He whistles and the dog comes running from the upstairs hallway. He walks around Dean's legs a few times before sitting there, looking up at him.
"He seems afraid of me suddenly," Castiel says to Dean, never having seen the animal show any dislike towards him before now. Today the animal won't even come near him, its tail between its legs when it sees him.
"You're confusing the shit out of him," Dean explains, grabbing the dog leash from the wall by the side door and clipping it onto his best furry friend. "You look like Lizzy but you don't feel like Lizzy. He doesn't get it."
"That makes sense. Dogs do tend to be sensitive to many things that humans naturally are not. He could most likely tell the difference between Lizzy and… well, Lizzy and me in one."
"Exactly," Dean brushes off and grabs his coat. He heads out the door as soon as he can. Being anywhere near his Lizzy while Castiel is in charge just isn't comfortable to him in any way. He can't see it, can't deal with it.
Maybe if he works on Baby all day he can stay away from him… her… them. And then he can just drink himself to sleep tonight and avoid it all together and tomorrow he can get Lizzy back….
Eh, hope in one hand and shit in the other. He knows which one usually fills up first.
"Son… of… a… bitch!" Dean struggles out as he pulls on the metal framing of his poor, mangled Baby, trying to reshape the metal around the door to its usual form. "Fuck!"
Dean lets go and backs up a step, hands automatically on his hips with frustration.
He breathes out heavily once, this car work not exactly putting him in the better place he'd hoped it would.
"Trouble?"
Dean whips his head around to see Lizzy standing behind him, her face set in Castiel's usual serious expression.
"Thought you weren't using your powers?" Dean questions, no longer surprised by the sudden company.
"I didn't," Castiel answers. "I walked through the side door. You must not have heard me through your own profanity laced yelling."
Dean rolls his eyes at this. "What do you need, Cass?"
"Elizabeth wanted to check on you," he says with the woman's voice.
"Tell her I'm fine," Dean says, walking to his toolbox he took from Bobby's garage out back.
"You just did. It didn't help calm her much but she heard you."
"Awesome. Don't you have a wall to go stare at or something?" Dean mentions as he came out here to avoid this combo of people he's awkwardly dealing with right now. The first half of the day Castiel spent sitting Lizzy's body in a wooden chair in the living room while staring straight out into the distance at nothing at all. It was far too creep.
"I spent the morning conversing with your wife internally. We spoke of so many things like the future, her becoming a mother, the state of the human race as we both view it, the beauty of the world as it is one of such unique detail… it was quite lovely actually," Castiel says with a warm smile. It was rare he got to talk to any human at length about anything. The morning reinstated his belief that the race is still nobler than any other the angel has encountered. His Elizabeth is truly a good, wide eyed, curious and honorable person… just as he has always seen. His affections for her have now grown and he hopes that he's made great strides in getting her back to a place of full trust and acceptance of him.
"Glad the pow-wow served you guys well," Dean says back, a crowbar in his hand as he peeks to the ground next to the detached door and inspects the damage on the hinges.
"It really did…" Castiel's off-character grin stays put. "And that is why I personally am here now."
"You wanna wax philosophical with me?" the hunter asks with wide eyes.
"Yes. I would enjoy that very much." The smile on Lizzy's lips is too much like Castiel for it to be in his comfort zone.
This is not what Dean was prepared to hear.
"Maybe another time, Cass," Dean says, turning back to his car.
Castiel watched him and doesn't like the reaction he's getting. "I know I have not been as available as I'd like to be lately with… Heaven being what it is and all, but I do wish I had more time in the grand scheme of things."
"What'd you mean?" Dean wonders, using a crowbar to help bend the door frame back to where it needs to be.
"I mean that… with humans you only have a short, tiny little millisecond to enjoy them before they're gone. Your lifespan is a blink of the eye to my kind. I would like to think I didn't waste the time I have not actually understanding the few people I care about while I can."
Peering over at Castiel with disbelief Dean has to ask, "So you're saying you want to understand me better."
"Yes. After speaking with Elizabeth at length I came to discover that she and I, for as strong a link as we have, didn't really know much of each other and how we view life uniquely until today. Considering the quite profound bond you and I also share I thought it would be good to know more about you, Dean."
"The hell do you want to know?"
Castiel sits Lizzy's body down onto the grassy, overgrown lawn, her legs crossed Indian style and hands pressed to the ground, and looks over to Dean. "What is your stance on nature versus nurture?"
"That's what you want to ask me?" Dean questions, disbelieving. Jesus, this guy is by far the weirdest fucking friend he's ever had. "Of all the shit to ask in the fucking world you choose this?"
"Yes. Considering that very soon you will be a father I think it's an important and complex question that you should seriously ponder."
Dean sighs with his eyes closed, counts to three, and answers. "I'm a fucking prime example of nurture winning the prize, Cass. I'm everything my father wanted me to be. Bad person to ask about this."
"But Sam is nothing like what your father wanted him to be," the angel returns. "He's nature's proof. He is absolutely nothing like you, Dean, yet he was raised exactly the same way. Why is that?"
"We weren't raised the same," Dean rebuts loudly. "I had the shit deal. Sam didn't have it easy but it was sure easier than my place in this family. I was a soldier and nothing else. Sam… Sam got some form of respect. I knew dad loved him every step of the way. Me? I was a means to an end, the end being keep Sammy safe."
"You thought John didn't love you?"
Dean stops, his brow furrowing for just a second. "At times."
"He always loved you, Dean. He didn't know how to show it exactly… but he loved you both equally."
"Funny fucking way of showing it," Dean grumbles while observing the bent framing of his beloved car.
"Why do you think he was so afraid to show you that?" Castiel wonders, having observed the Winchester family enough through his time on Earth.
"I don't know," Dean answers, annoyed by the difficult question as he pauses his work and sits sideways out the gaping hole in his car that used to have a door to it.
"Why did he treat you so differently, beside the fact that Sam's fate was on the line? Why did it make you two totally different people?"
"I… I don't know." Suddenly Dean's actually contemplating the huge question. Why are they so damn different? They both grew up in the same shitty life with the same tough father, eating the same terrible foods and staying in the same crappy motels.
"Well, I see there being a few different reasons for it. One reason, however, I feel is the main factor," Castiel begins to explain himself. "I think the fact that you remember your mother at all is the main difference."
Dean's face hardens at the mention of his mother.
"I do not mean to sully the memory of your mother, Dean. I would never do such a thing, especially when I know what a good mother she was."
And Dean relaxes a bit, remembering her clearly in the limited memories he has of her.
"Despite her making a deal to save her husband's life Mary very rarely made mistakes concerning her children," Castiel explains. "You remember her, how kind she was and how much love she showed you. Sam, however, never had the chance to experience any of that. He only knew of you, your father, and hunting. Family cannot mean the same thing to him as it does to you for this reason… well, not exactly at least."
It hurts to hear this but sadly it makes sense.
"So, through the example you and Sam have given me, on top of the molding and, as much as I hate to use this word, manipulating Heaven has done to Elizabeth I would say that nurture wins out in most cases but not all. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Well, when you put it like that," Dean says in a sad huff, somehow feeling lower than before.
"Yes, I think I'm correct," Castiel smiles slightly as he looks around the scrap yard. "And I think this will help you make the right decisions in raising your own son. You know what not to do so you can be sure to do everything you can to make Samuel well-adjusted and happy, and unburdened by his childhood unlike you."
It grows quiet and Dean's thankful for that. The talking, the voice being his wife's yet the words being that of an angel, it made his ears hurt to hear. This isn't making things any better.
"Also, I have always wondered about the rabbit on the cereal boxes," Castiel adds in, Lizzy's eyes snapping back onto Dean's. "The white furred one with the fruit flavored cereal?"
"Trix?" Dean wonders, curious eyes once more on the angel with his total shift in topic.
"Yes, that's right. Trix… Dean, have you ever wondered why the rabbit was considered so silly? Why he wasn't allowed to eat the very cereal his face was used to sell?"
Blinking a few times, the hunter is dumbfounded. "You serious?"
"My working theory is that he is a diabetic… or has some form of dietary issue concerning sugar…"
"I hear he's just a real douche bag," Dean brushes the conversation away. It's too fucking inane to attempt right now. "Cass, I'm just gonna work on my car in silence if you don't mind."
His eyes narrow at Dean. "This is still unpleasant for you, isn't it?"
"Little bit," Dean says with sarcasm. "Please, I know you're saving L here and I'm insanely grateful… but I can't deal with all this. I'm just gonna fix my car, get hammered, and sleep until you're ready to get the fuck outta my wife." Dean cringes immediately with how terrible that sounded.
"I do sympathize," Castiel answers and stands up, walking towards the Impala. "I will leave you." He grabs the door frame and single-handedly bends it back into place. He then turns Lizzy's body to leave but pauses. "Before I go… I want to alleviate some of your concerns."
Dean rolls his eyes with his waning patience. "How the hell you plan on doing that?"
"By letting you know that the demons do not understand the importance of your son, at least not yet," Castiel explains. "Only the angels are aware of Samuel's meaning and purpose. Demons clearly don't. If they did they wouldn't have used Elizabeth and your son as a bargaining chip for your brother. They would have simply killed her. This is a very good thing, Dean. They won't care so much about Samuel if they don't know of his destiny. I plan to help you keep it this way."
As the angel gives him the space he truly needs by walking back towards the house Dean lets out a tense breath and checks his watch. Two in the afternoon. Close enough, he thinks as he grabs a beer from the cooler and chugs a good amount down.