Dean did go sight seeing and yell obscenities through the fence (until one of the guards threatened to shoot him). He also checked his phone every twelve seconds, "In case there's an emergency, Sammy. Jo may need to get a hold of me." Every thirteen seconds, more disappointment hit him. Every fourteen seconds, he'd get angry. Every fifteen seconds he'd construct more and more horrible accidents that would prevent Cas from calling him back.
After Dean's outburst, Sam didn't mention his brother's nervous tics for the rest of the visit. They talked about the college, Dean's apartment, the prison's horrible food, how to sneak in a salad for Sam, what they were going to do once he got out. "I'm better now, Dean," Sam told him after their good bye hug. "Come by whenever you want. Bring your dork. I'd like to meet him."
"I don't think so. You two would team up against me and probably succeed in world domination." He tried to hide the strain the words put on him, but Sam's concerned look let Dean know he'd failed. "It'll be fine, Sammy. Stay out of trouble." The guard at the door was a woman, so Dean threw her his trademark wink with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes at her blush while Dean beamed at his brother in triumph. "See you in a few weeks, Sammy!"
The Impala rumbled in what Dean chose to think was excitement when he finally turned onto the ramp for the highway. He'd go home, shower, eat something, and head over to Castiel's apartment. To make sure he was ok. Make sure Cas knew he wasn't ditching him.
Either no one was home, or Dean was being ignored. "Answer the door you son of a bitch!" A door creaked behind him which made Dean spin around. A thin man with curly hair and a full beard stood in the doorway of the apartment across the breezeway.
"He's not here," the man said. Nervousness poured off of him in a pungent cloud that smelled a lot like Redbull and vodka. He twisted the ties of a threadbare robe in his fists and just stared at Dean.
"Yeah, thanks buddy. Any idea where he might be?" Dean really wasn't trying to be a dick, but he wasn't the calmest under stress.
Robe guy shook is his head before creeping back into his apartment. "Hoard the toilet paper like it's gold. Because one day, it will be." The door clicked shut before Dean could formulate a response. He decided that was probably best because no appropriate response existed.
The weekend loomed ahead of Dean, but come Monday, at least, he'd see Castiel in class. He ignored the part of him that whispered cruel things, true things. It's going to be fine, he told himself firmly.
"Hey Cas, just wondering where you are. We haven't talked since Wednesday, so I wanted to make sure everything was ok. Call me back buddy."
"Cas, man, you alright? You need help? I called Gabriel's number, but it said it was disconnected. If something happened, you can tell me. Fully clothed, even. I've got my phone on me."
"Look, if you don't want to see me anymore, that's fine. We had some good times. But come on, man. At least shoot me a text message letting me know so I don't look like a fucking idiot."
"I get it, you don't do repeat performances. Message received. Dick."
"Hey Cas, sorry for my last voicemail. I'm thinking you might actually be in trouble what with this black mark on your attendance record. None of your other professors have heard anything about a family emergency or whatever, but...man, I'm about to put your face on a milk carton."
"Your professor from your 3:30 class e-mailed me to let me know you seemed fine when you were in her class. What the hell?"
Castiel winced at the latest voicemails. This plan was not going as smoothly as he thought it would. He was currently in Zachariah's office to get a status update. "There is a lot of red tape, Castiel. I can only work so fast. I'm using up a number of important favors I've spent years collecting for our little deal." He waved his hand between them. "I know you thought you could just lose your phone for a few days and then go back on your word. That's not how this is going to work." At Cas' glare, Zachariah rolled his eyes and bared his teeth in his standard pseudo-grin.
Cas kept glaring, but kept his mouth shut. He spun his phone in his fingers, absentmindedly playing and stopping the messages. Dean's confidence in Ash's skills with electronics had not been misplaced. Everything Castiel needed was safe on his mobile, backed up on his and Gabriel's computers. He had no illusions about why his cousin hadn't gone to the Disciplinary and Ethics Boards yet. If he lost this evidence, Hell would reign on Earth. "I have assignments to do," he growled before spinning on his heel and stomping out of the office.
Gabriel got to his feet from where he'd been napping against the wall of the hallway. "What'd he say?"
"Nothing worthwhile," Castiel replied. He knew he couldn't keep ignoring Dean, but with Zachariah unable or unwilling to move faster he needed a new plan of action. "I need to see Dean," he told Gabriel.
His brother's eyes widened. "You sure, bro? You know Zach is itching to piss you off and get out of this deal."
"I'm sure. I need you to distract Zachariah should he leave his office. I would rather have this conversation with Dean here. It's public."
"That didn't stop you before, pervert," Gabriel cackled back. Castiel turned red as he walked away from his brother. His laughs followed him until he made it outside.
"Cas? You ok?"
"Yes Dean, I'm fine," Castiel replied. His gut was churning at the fear flowing through his phone's speaker.
"Dammit, Cas! Where have you been?" Anger is a surface emotion, Cas told himself. Dean knew what was coming and was masking his hurt with anger.
"Just a family thing of my own to deal with. Did you want to meet?" He would be forgiven. Cas knew he'd be forgiven for this eventually.
"Yeah, yeah sure. When?"
"Is now alright? I'm in the history building."
"That's fine. I'll meet you in my office in 5," came Dean's nervous reply.
Castiel replied in the affirmative, though he was already outside Dean's office door. Only three minutes later, Dean came racing around the corner. He slowed down when he saw Cas leaning against the door. Castiel stepped back while Dean unlocked the door. "How was your weekend?" Cas ventured.
Dean entered the office and kept his back to Castiel. "Just say it, Cas." His shoulders slumped like he was waiting for a blow to fall.
Castiel tried to play dumb. "What do you mean?"
"You don't ignore a guy for almost a week straight, avoid places he might be, and call out of the blue with the flimsiest excuse I've ever heard if you want to keep seeing him. So come on Cas, give it to me." Finally, Dean turned to look Castiel in the eye. "I've been dealt worse."
Castiel took a deep breath. "I don't think we should see each other anymore, Professor Winchester."
Dean nodded, walked behind his desk, and began grading the quiz he'd given the week before. "Is that all, Mr. Novak?" Bewildered, Cas nodded. "Then, if you don't mind, I have nearly 200 quizzes to grade by Wednesday and a busy few nights ahead of me."
"Yes, sir," Castiel murmured.
"Close the door behind you please," Dean called after him.
He did as he was bid. The world didn't tip on its axis, he didn't throw up. He was confused by Dean's reaction, had expected a more combative scenario from the passionate man, but figured that perhaps he had overestimated his place. If that was so, then Dean would experience minimal pain at their separation. Once Zachariah pulled the right strings, Dean could have the life he wanted. He had obviously sacrificed a lot from what Cas had read in the police reports. He could sacrifice his chance with Dean for this.
Castiel's footsteps faded down the hall slowly. Once they disappeared completely, Dean counted to fifty just to be sure he was really gone. Then he put his pen down, laid his arm on the desk, dropped his head into the crook of his elbow, and let go of a single tear.