Chapter 35

Dean jumped, nearly falling off the couch. "Fuck," he grumbled, pushing himself off the couch and rubbing his eyes.

Cas got up and shuffled to the door, unlocking the bolt lock and opening it. "Hey," he said with a smile.

"Hey," Rich said. He was wearing black high-top converse, blue jeans, and a Queers shirt layered underneath an open button-up Dickies workshirt. Noticing Dean walking away from the couch, hair a mess and looking out of it, he asked, "Did I interrupt something?"

Cas turned to glance at Dean, who was oblivious to the conversation as he walked into the kitchen to make himself some coffee. "No," he laughed. "We passed out on the couch." He paused before adding, "We've only been here for a few days, so we're pretty exhausted from trying to get everything together." Rich nodded. "Um, you can come in for a minute," Cas said, stepping out of the doorway. Rich brushed past and Cas closed the door behind him. "Coffee?" he asked.

"Sure, thanks." He moved over to the couch as Cas walked up behind Dean, who was blowing on his coffee to try and lower it to a reasonable drinking temperature. "You guys got this stuff put together already?" Rich paused as he dropped down onto the couch. "Takes most people forever."

Cas laughed. "I'm pretty good with instructions, I guess. How do you take your coffee?"

"A splash of whatever you've got, milk, cream, whatever, and a spoon of sugar."

Cas made the coffee as requested and brought it over to Rich, stirring it and leaving the spoon in the mug.

"Thank you," Rich said. He took a small sip. "You made it perfect."

"So how far is this place?" Cas asked, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch.

"'Bout an hour," he replied, now taking large gulps of his coffee.

Cas reached into his pocket, fishing out two twenties and holding them out to him. "Is this enough for gas? I also wanted to tip you for the delivery."

Rich's eyes widened a little and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's plenty. Most people don't tip me at all." He took the money Cas was offering, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans and shooting Cas a smile. "Thanks."

Cas hesitated before asking, "You smoke?"

Rich furrowed his brows over his mug and nodded slightly as he sipped his coffee, shocked Cas even had to ask. This was California, after all. Nearly everybody smoked; it was usually just assumed.

Cas turned towards the kitchen, standing up. "Dean, come smoke."

Dean shuffled over to the couch as Cas disappeared into the hallway. He sat where Cas had been, and when Cas returned with the weed and the bowl, he sat between them. He broke up a nug on the box the coffee table was in, scooping it up and sprinkling it into the bowl. They smoked it quickly, and Cas packed two more, before they stood up to leave.

Cas locked up the front door and turned around. Behind the Impala sat a beat up red pickup truck. As they got closer, Rich said, "There isn't much room in the front. It's technically a three-seater but it's a pretty tight squeeze, so... sorry about that. Lucky for you though, I showered before I came over," he chuckled, yanking on the door handle to the drivers side and climbing in.

Cas opened the passengers side, climbing up and sliding over. Dean followed, and Cas had to slide over further to give him room to close the door, his thighs squished between his and Rich's.

"Can we smoke in here?" Dean asked as Rich started the truck and pulled out of the driveway.

"Yep, she's a beater. Not that it matters, I smoke too," he added, reaching into the chest pocket of his shirt and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He lit it and passed the lighter to Cas, who lit one of his own before passing it to Dean.

"So," Rich said after a few minutes of them smoking in silence. "What are you going to school for?"

"Dental hygienist," Cas replied flatly. "Not exactly my calling, but it's a two year degree and pays decent enough. Work can be found anywhere. I figure it's a good fall-back job until I figure out what I want to actually do with my life."

"Yeah, delivering for a Swedish furniture company isn't exactly my calling, either," Rich chuckled. "But I had to quit school after a year because my dad got sick. So now I pay the bills."

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

He shrugged. "Shit happens, right?"

"Right," Dean said from the other side of the cab.

"What about you?" Rich asked, glancing at him quickly, unsure how to feel about Dean's comment. He couldn't read this kid.

"What about me?" Dean repeated his question, turning from the window, caught off guard by his interest.

"Yeah, why did you move here? Are you going to school here too?"

Dean let out a small laugh, turning to look back out the window. "Nah. I'm just along for the ride. School isn't exactly my thing." He couldn't go to college even if he'd wanted to, seeing as he hadn't finished high school.

Rich nodded, keeping his gaze on the road. He reached down and turned on the radio, and Tom Petty's "Yer So Bad" began to play, somewhere a little less than half-way through.

They were quiet for a moment, Dean mumbling the song under his breath. "You like Tom Petty?" Rich asked, looking over at him. Dean nodded. "The best classic rock stations around here are 98.5 and 107.7," he said. "Although I prefer 98.5. That's what this is."

"Cool, thanks," Dean said, nodding again.

Rich and Cas talked for a little while about the area. What there was to see, do, eat, et cetera. Dean stared out the window as they drove over the San Francisco - Oakland Bay Bridge. He'd never seen so much water- it had been dark when they arrived in California a few days earlier.

As they continued down the interstate, buildings and manicured lawns turned into dirt and fields. "How far are we?" Dean asked. "Where are we?"

"We're in Dublin. About twenty-five minutes away."

Another fifteen minutes passed by and they were in another town. "Pleasanton," Rich said in response to their confused gazes out the window. "Ten minutes."

Finally Rich put on his blinker and turned left onto a dirt road. About a mile down they could see a red barn contrasted against the darkening sky. As they got closer, Cas breathed out, "You weren't kidding about him having a lot of stuff."

Dean's eyes lit up at the collection of classic cars in the dirt lot. As soon as the truck rolled to a stop, he clambered out, hurrying over to a 1977 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am, it's paint peeling and tires sinking into the dirt. He ran a hand over the roof, peering in the window. "You shouldn't be wasting away here, beautiful," he whispered.

Cas chuckled and shook his head.

"He into cars, huh?" Rich asked, holding his cell phone up to his ear.

Cas nodded. "Yep."

"Hey," Rich said into the phone. "We're outside." He hung up.

Within seconds a burly man, about 5'6", wearing overalls over a red plain shirt and work boots, appeared from around the back of the building. "Richard!" he bellowed as he closed in on them. "'Bout time you showed your face 'round here!"

"I've got you some customers, Tom. You need to get rid of some of this stuff," Rich said, as Tom embraced him in a tight hug.

Tom patted his back before pulling away. "Yeah, yeah, it'll go when it's good and ready." He turned to Dean and Cas. "What are you two boys looking for?"

"Well, kind of a little bit of everything," Cas responded. "We just moved here and don't have much... We bought some furniture but we need a TV stand, and a washer and dryer."

"You've come to the right place!" Tom said. "I'm Tom by the way," he said, extending his hand.

Cas took it, startled by the strength of the man's grip. "Cas."

Tom turned to Dean to shake his hand as well. Dean gripped it tight. "Dean."

"Follow me," Tom said, turning and walking back towards where he had appeared from when they arrived. As they rounded the corner, Dean stopped in his tracks at the field of marijuana plants splayed before him.

"Like those?" Rich asked with a smile. He looked over at Cas, who met his gaze. "Just one of the perks of California livin'." He winked.

"Damn," Dean breathed, staring at the plants.

"I guess we know where to get our weed," Cas said with a nervous laugh, caught off guard by Rich's wink.

"That's right!" Tom said. "I grow the best shit around. Don't you doubt it for a second."

He turned a corner into the barn, and as Dean and Cas followed, they were met with what looked like, at first glance, junk, as far as the eye could see- ride on lawnmowers, tractors, washing machines, and a few dirtbikes and motorcycles.

"Told ya he's a hoarder," Rich muttered.

"Shuddap," Tom snapped. "Alright boys, I've got a nice washer and dryer here some rich couple was gettin' rid of 'cause they upgraded. They throw away perfectly good shit, I swear. Such a waste."

"Tom's a vigilante superhero for abandoned inanimate objects. He rescues them like a damsel in distress and fixes them up, promises someone's gonna treat 'em right," Rich snickered. "Whispers it to 'em as he fusses with their nuts and bolts."

Tom huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin.

"How much do you want for them?" Cas asked. "They look brand new."

Tom shrugged. "I'd usually ask $250 for the set but you boys said you're looking for more stuff, so why don't you finish looking around and we'll add it up after, hmm? This is all machines... Next room over," he jerked his thumb to the left, where a large opening led to another barn, "is furniture."

Dean and Cas nodded and wandered off into the other room.

Tom turned to Rich as Dean and Cas disappeared into the next room. "Where'd you find those two?"

"Ordered a bunch of furniture from work, but not nearly enough. I don't think they've ever lived on their own. They look young as hell."

"Where are they from?"

"Kansas."

"Oh, god. You better keep an eye on those boys," Tom chuckled. "Don't let SanFran eat them alive. They don't even look twenty."

Rich scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. "They'll be fine. The short one is super nice, he tipped me for the delivery... and smoked me up." He felt his face growing warm.

Tom noticed instantly and cracked a smile. "Ah ah ah," he scolded, waggling his finger at him. "You leave that boy alone. Don't be a homewrecker."

Rich's eyes darted over to the door of the other barn, then back to his cousin. "I don't think they're together. They don't act like it."

"Not everybody sucks face in public like you do, Dick," Tom said flatly.

"Ugh." Rich rolled his eyes and shuddered. "Don't call me that."

"Especially where they're from. I know you grew up here, but the rest of the country isn't as... progressive." He paused before changing the subject. "How's Uncle Craig?"

Rich shrugged. "No better, no worse."

Tom stared at him hard for a moment before asking, "When are you going to get him to come stay here so you can get back to your life, Rich?"

Rich frowned, blinking slowly at his cousin. "You know he doesn't want to leave the city. He's convinced with how sick he is, he'll be isolated out here and 'wither away and die in some dusty old barn'..." He paused. "His words."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I need to get out there and talk to him."

They heard voices behind them and turned to see Dean and Cas returning.

"Find anything you like?" Tom asked.

"Yes," Cas said, smiling. He showed them what they were interested in. A large bookshelf, a decent size TV stand, and a set of four tall wooden chairs Dean had pointed out would be good for the island, which was going to be doubling as their kitchen table. Cas had also found a painting he liked. It was a dog, on a bed covered with a white comforter. He was napping in the afternoon sun that was pouring in through the window above the bed.

Tom rubbed his chin for a moment. "How about... three for everything?"

"Are you- really?" Cas said, squinting at Tom.

Tom nodded. "Yep. You seem like nice kids. It's hard out here, and I don't want this stuff just sitting in here anymore. That's the whole reason I took it in the first place. I want someone to get some use out of it."

Cas smiled and let out a small laugh. "Wow, thank you. I have to say, everyone out here has been really nice. It's quite refreshing after our interactions in Kansas."

Tom smiled and reached forward, patting him on the shoulder. He turned to Rich. "Let's get all their purchases in the truck." He started to walk off.

"Wait," Dean said. "Let me help."

"Go for it," Tom said, gesturing towards the other half of the barn. "Help the boy, Rich." As they disappeared into the other room, he turned back to Cas. "Would you like to see the plants?"

Cas' eyes lit up. "Yes, please." He followed Tom out of the barn and to the edge of the field.

"Wow," Cas said as he leaned over to inspect them. He turned to Tom. "How can I do this?"

"Grow?" Tom laughed. "I can teach you," he said. "But you have to be twenty-one to grow your own."

Cas frowned, turning back to the plants and squinting at the buds. Tom smiled to himself. He knew these kids were young. Not even twenty-one.

"I want to grow a strain for pain relief," Cas said slowly. "It's gotta be strong though... I have a prescription, but... I hate taking them." He paused. "I hate pills."

Tom smiled warmly. "Smart boy."

"Let me pay you," Cas said, straightening up and wincing slightly as a jolt of pain shot out across his shoulder from his spine. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Actually... do you have any I could buy now by any chance?"

"I do," Tom nodded.

"How much for an ounce?"

"One hundred."

"You're kidding," Cas scoffed, squinting at him.

"No, I'm not." He waved his hand towards the field of plants. "Do I look like I'm running out any time soon?"

Cas hesitated. "O- okay... Here. I really appreciate you and Rich helping us out." He extended his hand out, holding three hundred dollar bills and two fifties.

"Not a problem," he said, taking it. "Why don't you go check on Rich and your friend and I'll go get your bag."

Cas nodded, starting to walk back over to the truck. Dean and Rich had already loaded in the bookcase and TV stand, and were lifting up the dryer. "Do you need help?" he asked.

"You can grab those chairs from the barn," Dean said, jumping down off the tailgate. His flannel flapped up as he descended and little clouds of dust kicked up from his boots when he landed. Cas looked away, turning pink. Luckily it was now nightfall, so it likely went unnoticed by present company, but damn, even after nearly a year, Dean just existing still gave him butterflies. He scurried off into the barn to grab two of the chairs. When he returned, Rich and Dean were grunting and groaning as they lifted the washing machine into the bed of the truck. Cas set the chairs down and left to retrieve the remaining two.

"Alright Tom," Rich breathed as Tom came around the corner, "I'll call you, okay?"

Tom nodded and Cas re-appeared with the chairs, setting them down. Rich tossed them in the truck and began strapping everything down.

Tom held out a ziploc bag to Cas, who took it and looked at it intently. "This is more than an ounce."

"My mistake, give it back then." Cas looked up and Tom was grinning. "Kidding. You think I didn't weigh it? Come on now, kid."

Cas smiled. "Thank you. It was very nice to meet you, Tom." He turned and climbed into the truck, and Dean propped one foot up before turning to Tom.

He gave him a small wave. "Thanks again, man." He pulled himself up into the cab of the truck, closing the door behind him.

Tom nodded and Rich stuck his arm out the window to wave before pressing his foot on the gas. The car lurched forward and they bounced down the dirt road.

"Your cousin's a nice guy," Dean said gruffly, his arm hanging out the window with a cigarette in hand as he stared off at the dark fields. "Why are you all so nice out here?"

Rich shrugged. "It just works for us, I guess."

"Where we're from, you're nice and you get fucked." He took a drag off his cigarette.

Cas frowned and nodded. "It's true." The car was quiet for a moment until Cas spoke up. "Do you guys want to smoke? I bought a bag from Tom."

Rich laughed. "You might want to wait to smoke that, it'll probably knock you out."

"You think so?" Cas asked.

Rich nodded. "Yep." He reached down and turned on the radio. The Rolling Stones crackled through the speakers and he turned it up.

The ride was mostly quiet, and they arrived back at the house sooner than expected. When they finished unloading the furniture into the living room, Rich even helping Dean hook up the washer and dryer, Cas asked if he would like to stay for dinner.

Rich was standing in the living room, hands shoved in his pockets. Dean was pouring a box of pasta into a pot that was boiling on the stove. Rich's stomach growled, but he had to get back home to his father. Dinner needed to be cooked, meds needed to be given, chores needed to be done. "I would love to," he said slowly. He would like nothing more than to have dinner with Cas. "But I have to get home." He frowned.

Cas nodded.

"Um, maybe I could get your number," he said cautiously. "If you ever wanna hang out."

"Yeah, sure," Cas said, pulling out his phone. "What's yours? I'll call you."

Rich rattled off his digits and Cas dialed them into his phone. Rich's phone rang from his pocket and he nodded at Cas. "Alright. I'll hit you up on my next day off if that's cool."

Cas hung up his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. "Sounds good. We'll be around, school doesn't start until next month."

"Alright, cool," Rich said, moving towards the door. "Bye, Dean," he called over his shoulder. Cas walked him out, closing the door behind him as Dean stirred the pasta on the stove and waved with his free hand.

"Thanks again," Cas said, smiling warmly. "You've been very helpful."

Rich smiled nervously. "I try to be. It was nice to meet you."

"You too," Cas said back, too tired and oblivious to notice Rich's nervous gestures. Biting his lip, fiddling with his fingers, looking down. He lifted his hand and forearm in a small, awkward wave, before lifting it the rest of the way and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Have a good night."

"You, too," Cas repeated as Rich walked back to his truck. He went back inside, where Dean was draining the pasta.

"Do you want me to finish?" Cas asked, coming up behind him.

Dean shook his head. "No, I got it. Why don't you throw our sheets and shit in the wash?"

Cas' eyes widened. "Yes, good idea." He hurried off to gather their new sheets and pillowcases from the bags, and one of the comforters from the room. Dean smiled to himself as he heard the water kick on around the corner and the washer begin to fill. "It works!" Cas yelled excitedly.

"Come eat!" Dean called, setting two bowls on the kitchen island. As Cas entered, Dean was carrying two of the new chairs over to the counter. They sat down and began to eat.

"It's good, Dean, thank you," Cas complimented through a mouthful of pasta.

"You don't have to thank me," Dean said quickly. He paused for a moment before asking, "Would you like me to rub your back before we go to bed? I've noticed you wincing all day," he added quietly.

Cas stared at him. "Yes. That would be nice."

They finished eating and Cas threw the sheets and pillowcases into the dryer. They would dry faster without the comforter. They showered together, too exhausted to fool around, and sat down on the couch, Cas in only boxers and Dean in boxers and a tee shirt. Cas rolled a joint, again using the box for the un-assembled coffee table as a table. As he lit it, Dean leaned back against the arm of the couch. Cas pushed himself between Dean's legs, laying down on his chest. They smoked and talked about the plants at Tom's farm.

"He said he would teach me to grow."

Dean straightened up a little. "That would be cool."

Cas nodded. "Hell yeah it would be. I've always wanted to grow my own." He stood up and walked off into the hallway. Dean heard the dryer slam as Cas took out the sheets and put in the comforter. He saw him pass by, sheets in hand, and go into the bedroom.

As Cas shook out the sheet to put it on the bed, Dean came up behind him. "Let me," he said.

Cas handed him the sheet and stepped back. Dean tucked it in before sitting on the edge and putting the pillowcases on the new pillows. He laid back, yanked off his shirt and boxers, and sighed. "Oh my god. New bed, clean sheets, and freshly showered. I feel like I'm floating on a cloud."

Cas dropped his boxers as well and joined him. He curled up on his side, face nestled into Dean's arm. Dean rolled onto his side to face Cas, wrapping an arm around him. They laid still for a while, until Dean opened his eyes and realized they had fallen asleep. He pushed himself away from Cas and off the bed, grabbing the blanket out of the dryer. He threw it over the bed, covering Cas, who shifted and sighed.

Dean hit the light and climbed underneath, snuggling up to Cas again and drifting back into sleep.