Chapter 59.
Cas went to the library and found Jules there, working on a laptop. She looked up and smiled. "Hi. Happy birthday."
He remembered what Dean had said and he smiled back and said, "Thanks. What are you working on?"
"Trying to find any reference to a Rhydian who had anything to do with magic, but no luck so far. I struggle a bit with the internet. Computers were not a big thing for us."
"Get Jack to help you. Apparently, he found Rhydian in the first place and he spends a lot of time on those machines."
"Could you come with me for a second?" she said, standing up.
"Of course." he said. He followed her out. Soon they were in her room. It was not like his. She had made it her own with scarves in bright colours hung on the walls and stacks of books and her desk was covered with odd little nonsensical things that he found somehow appealing. He envied her the talent of changing a room to reflect who she was. All humans seemed to have it, no angels did. He wondered if he could ever either acquire it or fake it, so that Dean and Sam would stop thinking he wasn't at home in the bunker.
"Is something wrong?" she said.
"No." he said, "I've just never seen your room before. I like how you've changed it."
That seemed to please her. She smiled at him. "Thanks. I know it's not permanent, but I like to make myself a nest, wherever I am."
"Why not permanent?" he said.
"Well, we can't take advantage of the Winchesters' hospitality forever. We're like a bunch of teenagers, all still living at home. One day, we have to grow up and move out."
He was uncomfortable with swift changes and he told himself that was why he felt his stomach lurch at the thought, but he was not fooled for a moment by his own excuse. Friend or more than friend, he would miss Jules.
"I said move out, not die, Cas." she said, clearly seeing his thoughts all too clearly on his face. "We'll still see each other. We'll still work together on things. You think I'm planning to lose a good friend?"
He smiled, relieved. "That's good." he said. He wanted to say something safe, about having good colleagues or something, but he worried that it would sound cold and she always said such warm, kind things to him. "I'd miss you." he said.
"I'd miss you too." she said, "It's weird how you can know some people for years and never really know them at all and others, you know for a few weeks and you can't understand how you ever managed without them." She went to a small chest at the foot of her bed. "I know most people are planning to give their presents at the party, but I wanted to give you mine before that."
"Oh." he said, hoping he could respond appropriately.
"It'll seem like the lamest present ever." she said, handing him an almost flat, rectangular present.
He opened the silver wrapping paper and then the box underneath. There were two green ties.
"I know." she said, "Not a great present. But these are coded."
"Coded?"
She took out the first tie. "This solid green one is like a green door that slams shut. When you wear this, it means, 'I want to be left alone.' and when I see you wearing that, I'll not only stay out of your way, I'll also do my best to distract everyone else from you too."
Cas was speechless. She had seen his need for solitude and his inability to ask for it and instead of being offended by it or telling him he needed to try harder to fit in, she had created a solution for him.
She put the solid green tie back and took out the one with thin white stripes breaking up the green. "This striped one," she said, "Is how you open the door. Wearing this means, 'I want to talk.' and that will bring me over to listen, first chance I get."
"Thankyou." he said, "This is wonderful. These are wonderful. You're wonderful."
"It's nothing major." she said, "I just thought it would take some of the pressure off you. I know interacting with us is hard for you. We unintentionally make you feel very cornered at times, very isolated at others. Communication is key. I hope these will make it easier."
"Jules, they're perfect." he said, "I need to try a lot harder with communication, but I think I can, because you always help me so much. You're very patient. You overlook my many social failings."
"There aren't many to overlook." she said, "I have my own communication problems. For example, there are things I want to ask you now that I know I will say wrong and I don't want any awkwardness today on your birthday, so it's probably best to keep quiet."
"I think all interactions are a little awkward." he said, "Don't let that silence you."
She looked at him in silence for what seemed like a long time. Finally, she said, "How did you become friends with the Winchesters?"
"You know that." he said, "We stopped an apocalypse together."
"I don't mean how you met them, I mean, how did you, with your communication issues, ever get close to them?"
"More their effort than mine. The angel I was then ... he was arrogant, aloof, cold and completely committed to his righteous duty. Dean hated angels. Went straight from, 'Angels don't exist!' to "Angels are dicks.' with no gap in between. Sam was a little more nuanced, but equally critical at times. I don't really know how or when it changed, but by the time we were together at Stull Cemetery to put Lucifer back in his cage, I would have followed them anywhere."
"I love how much you love them. I never thought an angel could feel any love or friendship until I met you."
"I thought we were paragons of love and friendship, until I saw human love. Our angelic brotherhood was nothing like the bond between Sam and Dean."
She was looking at him again, something like speculation in her eyes. He wanted to ask what she was thinking, but he felt uneasy about what her answer might be. He smiled at her, aware that his smile was weird and not quite right for the situation.
"I'm glad you decided to give people a chance." she said, "It must have been difficult, to come down from the celestial heights and deal with our down and dirty lives."
"I have lived more in the previous ten years than in the ten thousand before that." he said, "I love humans. I love their noisy, chaotic lives and their profound, unbreakable love and I am so grateful that some of them have let this distrustful, uncommunicative, socially baffled angel share their lives."
"You're not that baffled." she said, "When it matters, you always seem to know what to say. You ride Dean's tempestuous moods like a surfer."
"I'm not sure what that means." he said.
"It means you're a great friend." she said.
"I try to be." he said.