6 - Homeward Bound

Castiel, unfortunately, couldn't taste the amazing burger that Dean brought him any more than he could taste the communion wafers. Oh well. Dean made sure to enjoy it enough for both of them.

Dean had no idea if angels could sleep, but he needn't have worried. Within ten minutes, the pain pills kicked in and Castiel fell asleep. Apparently, he was more human than he'd realized. Even though he knew it was creepy, Dean found himself watching Castiel sleep. The angel's wings forced him to lie on his stomach. The positioning of their beds meant that his right wing was facing Dean. That resulted in an extended period of staring at the awful cast and bare patch on the angel's wing. Guilt gnawed at Dean's stomach. His angel had been horribly injured saving him. How to even process that? The answer didn't come, and eventually, Dean dropped into a troubled sleep.

In the morning, Dean took a quick trip to stock up at the complimentary breakfast, bringing back food for his angel. Dean made his usual fast work of his food so he could get on with his morning routine, get packed, and get back on the road. Despite apparently having watched over him for years, Castiel was brimming with questions about everything Dean did. He couldn't understand how Dean could taste his food, eating as quickly as he did. He tried to follow Dean into the bathroom, had to be escorted out, and then listened to careful instruction by a red-faced Dean in how to use the facilities. Dean even had to quickly order the curious angel away when Castiel attempted to peek in on him in the shower. He'd explained that the angel couldn't get his cast wet anyway and should wash up at the sink, only to have Cass cheerfully explain that angels didn't need to wash up at all. He had only been interested in learning about whatever Dean was doing. As Castiel still reeked of the insect repellant Dean had been wearing, Dean wasn't so sure about that, but only time would tell.

The angel went too far, however, when Dean got them both packed into Baby and on the road. Dean had stolen the flat sheet from the motel room (go ahead and charge his card, which was as fake as a starlette's boobs) and wrapped Castiel up in it to disguise his wings. It made the angel look like a weird fat man who mysteriously lacked a double chin. At least no one who might see him carefully maneuvering his way into the Impala's back seat would think he was anything other than human. The angel's wings made the back seat the most comfortable place for him to ride. But unfortunately, it did nothing to keep Cass from reaching over the seat to fiddle with whatever he could reach.

"Cass!" Dean exclaimed, seeing his angel's unsplinted arm reaching eagerly past his shoulder again. "Do not touch the radio!"

"But Dean, there are so many interesting things to listen to," Castiel protested, fingers already on the dials.

The sound of K-Pop filled the car. Horrified, Dean slapped at the angel's hand. "No! Bad angel! Do not touch that dial!" Dean quickly turned it back to classic rock, shuddering.

Castiel withdrew. He sat back for a moment, contrite. Dean immediately felt guilty. He'd just opened his mouth to apologize when the radio started changing stations, this time landing on a classical music station. Dean blinked in surprise, nearly going off the road. "Are you doing that?!"

"I'm not touching the dial, Dean," Castiel called, obviously grumpy. "Am I still a bad angel?"

"How the actual fuck…?" Dean immediately grimaced and shook his head. "Angel, right." He thought of something and glanced back at Castiel in the rearview mirror. "Hey Cass, why can't you just use your mojo to heal yourself?"

"Like you said, I'm caught between two forms," Castiel replied. He was apparently still feeling grumpy about being called a bad angel. "What I am now is something new, and it's affecting my powers." He paused. "I don't think I could even fly like this, even if my wing wasn't broken."

"For how long?" Dean wanted to know. "Do you think you'll be back to normal once your wing heals?"

"I don't know, Dean." Castiel suddenly sounded worried. "I'm not aware of anything like this happening before. I don't know what will happen."

Dean felt like throwing up. He clenched his hands on the steering wheel. "I'm not worth it," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Saving me was never worth this, Cass! You shouldn't have done it!"

Silence from the back seat. When Castiel's voice came again, it was nearly a whisper. "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

"I don't!" Dean exclaimed. "I didn't deserve it the first time you saved me, and I sure as fuck wasn't worth you getting hurt over. I don't understand why you kept saving me all these years. There's nothing special about me, Cass. I'm just not worth it."

"Dean, don't tell me what is and isn't worth it," Castiel snapped, surprising Dean out of his funk. "Don't tell me I'm a bad angel for saving you…"

"Why, were you ordered to save me?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Now that's even crazier. There is nothing about me that could possibly warrant…"

"Dean."

Dean glanced again at Castiel, and this time, he actually did go off the road. He slammed on the brakes. stopping Baby on the shoulder amidst a blare of horns from the irritated drivers behind him. He couldn't be bothered to care. From the back seat, Castiel's eyes had started to glow a bright, brilliant blue.

"Dean Winchester," Castiel intoned, "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. I am a warrior of Heaven, and there is a bigger picture here. You have a destiny."

"Destiny?" Dean managed.

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "Heaven has plans for you."

"Heaven?" Dean forgot himself enough to scoff.

"That is your problem, Dean," Castiel said. "You have no faith. You thank me for saving you even as you question why I did it."

"I never asked for your help!" Dean snapped. "I never wanted you to put yourself out for me, and I sure as hell never wanted you to get hurt doing it. The only thing I have ever asked of you was to see you again."

Cass spread his arms. "Here I am, Dean. Yet you continue to deny that Heaven has plans for you?"

Dean found he couldn't meet the angel's gaze. At least his eyes weren't glowing now. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I never doubted you, Cass, not even when literally everyone told me you weren't real. I always knew you were there, watching over me. I just couldn't figure out why." He sighed. "I guess I should have realized that you were there for a reason. I just have some trouble with the whole idea that I don't choose my own destiny."

"You do choose your own destiny, Dean," Castiel replied. His voice was gentle now. "Humans were created with free will. It's the single greatest gift they were given. And you are no different. In time, you'll face your choice, the one you were born to make. It's my job to do whatever I can to make sure you live to make that choice." He looked ruefully at his splinted arm. "Unfortunately, I seem to be a bit limited right now. I can't even contact my superiors in Heaven. But I promise you that I will do all I can to fulfill my mission."

That was the least of Dean's concerns. However, he didn't want to piss off Castiel again. The angel had actually scared him a little when he'd done that glowing eyes thing. Dean doubted Cass would actually hurt him, but at the very least, he didn't want the angel angry at him. "Ok," he said. "I'll try to stop with the self doubt if you do. That sound like a deal?"

That earned him a confused squint and head tilt. The angel indicated his splint and the cast on his wing. "I have obvious physical impediments to my mission. Your problem is only…"

"It's a compromise, Cass," Dean explained, trying not to smile. "It means we both put in the effort, for the sake of the other. Ok?"

Understanding dawned on the angel's face. "Ah. So we will each pretend to believe the lie the other is telling? I'm unsure how this will help, but if you feel that it will?"

"Humans lie," Dean explained with a shrug, flicking his signal to pull back onto the road. "That's how you become President." Leaving Castiel to mull that one over, Dean got back onto the road. "One more thing," Dean called, making a quick adjustment to the radio. "There's something you don't seem to be getting about cars. Driver picks the music, shotgun, or in your case the back seat, shuts his cake hole. So keep your mojo in your pants, alright?"

"My 'mojo' as you call it does not reside in my clothing, Dean. It's…"

This time, Dean couldn't keep from laughing. "Dude, did you just make air quotes? That's hilarious!"

"I fail to see the humor. I was simply explaining…"

Dean waved a hand, bringing Baby back up to speed. "Can we maybe compromise on that, too? There's a box of tapes back there. How about I let you pick the tape we listen to?"

That seemed to satisfy the angel. Good. If Dean had to listen to classical music the whole way to Sioux Falls, he might seriously consider throwing himself out of the moving car.

Not wanting to risk stopping any more than necessary, Dean filled Castiel's prescription once they were two towns away. It was, he noticed with some amusement, prescribed to "Castiel Angel." Then he started a marathon drive, getting them as far away as possible. He went through drive-throughs and stopped for gas with Cass's wings carefully covered in the stolen sheet. Cass didn't like having his wings covered. He liked being told he couldn't get out of the car even less, but at least he'd listened. The last thing Dean needed was for his angel to get into trouble.

Castiel, on the other hand, still seemed fascinated by everything Dean did. He squinted at the menu boards in the drive-throughs. He picked his food apart, asking Dean why he'd chosen one food over another. He reached through his window to poke at the gas pump, which forced Dean to put the window up. Dean made sure to take his angel with him when they stopped for bio breaks, but that didn't stop Cass from loudly discussing the process ("Do you ever get tired of urinating? I'll never get used to it."). Then Castiel finished before Dean at one rest stop and disappeared. Dean was about to tear the entire rest stop apart and start questioning truckers when he discovered his angel in the vending area, fascinated by the variety on display in the machines. Dean, who had been forced to explain what everything was, drew the line when the angel's interest turned to the condoms. But it had still taken ten minutes of arguing and physically dragging the angel before Cass would get back in the car.

Thinking the angel was probably bored, Dean finally pulled into a dump of a motel and got them a room. He instructed Castiel in the use of the TV remote ("Do NOT order anything on pay-per-view, Cass, I mean it!"), extracted a promise from his angel to not leave the room while Dean slept, and finally collapsed for a much-needed rest.

Dean's phone, which he'd somehow managed the presence of mind to remember to charge, woke him from his slumber entirely too early. Dean cracked one eye, took note of Cass, who was already awake and frowning at the television, and fumbled a hand to collect the phone. "H'lo?" he managed.

"Dean, you better be on your way home," Bobby warned through the phone's tinny speakers. "Benny called me, gave me a heads up on what happened. Did we or did we not just discuss you not taking two-man jobs?"

Dean groaned and rolled onto his back to sigh up at the ceiling. "Yes, Bobby, we discussed it," he admitted. "But it really didn't matter in the end. Do you think that asswipe wouldn't have gone to the police if I had another operative with me? Because I really don't think it would have made that much of a difference."

"Dean Michael Winchester, you are the biggest pain in the ass since man discovered hemorrhoids!"

When Bobby Singer got on a roll, Dean had learned from experience, it was best to just let him ramble. Forcing himself out of bed, Dean used the time to step into the bathroom for privacy, closing the door behind himself.

"Listen, Bobby, there's something I have to talk to you about," Dean managed when Bobby paused for a breath five minutes later. "You remember my angel? The one that saved my life and everyone on the planet believes I made up out of survivor's guilt?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he's here."

Pause. "What do you mean, he's there?"

"I mean he's right here in this motel room with me," Dean explained smugly. "His name's Castiel."

This time, the pause was considerably longer. "I see."

"Just a moment and I'll send you a picture." Dean opened the door, readying his phone to snap a picture of his angel.

The room was empty, the door leading to the parking lot wide open.

"Fuck! Bobby, I gotta go."

"Dean, what in tarnation…?"

"Talk to you later!" Dean hung up, dropping the phone into his pocket as he ran out the door, looking left and right for his angel. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. "Cass!" he yelled. "Where are you?"

"I'm back here."

Cass's voice had come from around the corner of the building. Dean bolted towards the sound, and his heart nearly stopped. There was his angel, standing on the end of the diving board, looking down in apparent fascination at the murky water of the pool. The diving board wasn't in any better shape than the pool and sagged alarmingly under his weight. His wings were uncovered, out in the open for the entire world to see. Already, Dean could see a couple of truckers, standing and staring in wide-mouthed amazement.

"Cass!" Dean exclaimed. "What are you doing? I told you to stay in the room!"

"Your instructions were that I was not to leave the room while you slept," Castiel pointed out, not looking up. "I kept that promise. You are very clearly awake now."

"Dammit, Cass!" Dean circled the pool, wary that his angel could fall into the water at any moment. He held up two fingers spaced about an inch apart. "I am about this close to putting a leash on you."

That at least got the angel's attention. "I will not be leashed, Dean."

"Then come back here! Hang on, I'm coming." Dean dared to step onto the end of the diving board. "Come on, Cass," he urged, reaching out as far as he dared towards the frowning angel. "Please come back here and take my hand before you fall?"

"Why?" Castiel's voice matched his curmudgeonly expression. "I was just looking, and trying to ascertain the purpose of this contraption I'm standing on. I wasn't being a 'bad angel,' Dean."

Dean held his breath as the diving board wobbled and creaked alarmingly. "Ok, normally, the whole air quotes thing you just did would be really endearing, but right now? I think I'd just appreciate it if you didn't move so much." He stretched his hand out a little farther. "Just come here."

The angel's scowl deepened. "First you tell me not to move so much, then you tell me to come there. Which is the 'good angel' option, exactly?"

"Oh for…! Ugh, ok, I'm sorry I called you a bad angel, alright?"

Castiel cocked his head at Dean. "Does this mean you're not going to try to leash me?"

"I wasn't even remotely serious about the leash!" Dean dared to take another step closer. The board creaked alarmingly and Dean's heart nearly stopped. "Castiel, please," he begged. "Please, just come closer and take my hand before this stupid thing breaks and we both end up in the drink?"

The angel eyed the filthy water. "I don't believe I would recommend anyone drinking this, Dean. The smell alone…"

"Castiel! Please!"

Castiel gave a harumph. He moved closer to Dean and took the offered hand. With a sigh of relief, Dean pulled his angel back down the board to safety. Castiel allowed it. He didn't say a word while Dean started marching him back around the pool. One of the truckers began to applaud. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Bad enough you let that freak out in public," the other trucker stated. "You gotta hold hands with him, too?"

Until then, Dean hadn't realized he was still holding tightly to Castiel's hand. Irritated, he tightened his grip. "Why don't you take your homophobia and shove it?" Dean suggested. "Excuse us."

The trucker who had applauded moved out of the way, glancing uncomfortably at the other one. Captain Homophobe, however, moved up. He had about two inches on Dean, and used them to peer down his nose. "You think you're big enough to make me?"

Dean let go of Castiel, casually bringing his hands to his side and moving forward to confront the man. As much as he'd enjoy pounding this piece of shit, Dean really didn't want to draw any more attention to Cass. "Just let us pass," he said quietly. "We're leaving."

The man sneered. "Fucking pansy." He gave Dean a hard shove.

Dean had anticipated the bastard might try something like this and let himself fall back. But unfortunately, his curious angel was once again crowding into Dean's personal space. Dean slammed hard into Castiel, jarring his injuries. With a cry of pain, Castiel stumbled back. There was a splash, and a dull thud.

Dean quickly caught his balance. "Cass? Cass!" Racing to the edge of the pool, Dean looked down and gasped in horror.

The pool was only partly filled, so only part of Castiel's uninjured wing was in the water. But with no water at the shallow end, there had been nothing to break Castiel's fall. He was lying with his eyes closed on the unforgiving concrete.

Blood was pooling around his head.