Chapter Four: I'll Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor ((Arctic Monkeys))

Dean woke up fairly early the next morning, judging by the barest hints of the sun peeking up over the horizon. It was still dark enough to leave a chill in the air, and the fire had gone out. The only sounds in the air were a few birds, quieter in the dawn hours than they had been the previous day. A breeze ruffled leaves on the trees.

He blinked his eyes open groggily, looking around for a moment before sitting up. He was alone in the camp; Castiel was gone. His over shirt, the one he'd used as a makeshift basket last night for apples, was draped over him as some form of a blanket.

Finding himself a bit disappointed at the other's exit, he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to rouse fully. He supposed Castiel had better things to do then hang around and wait for Dean to get done sleeping. Angels didn't sleep, after all, and he had a mission to complete. Still, it made him frown. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to on this trip, even if Castiel hadn't gotten any of his jokes so far. Dean didn't really like being by himself. He worked best when he had someone to talk to, complain to and joke around with. Like Sam. That's probably why he invited Castiel along in the first place.

"You're awake."

Dean jumped a bit at the voice. Castiel stepped into the camp quietly as the other turned his head to study him. The surprise must have been evident on his face, because Castiel tilted his head in that way of his, arms tightening around the pile of sticks he'd gathered up.

"The fire went out. I thought you might want another."

"Oh."

The dark- haired man set the little pile of sticks over the ash of last night's fire. Dean rolled his shoulders in a stretch, moving to slide the over shirt back on. He got to his feet.

"I'm gonna see if there's any fish in this stream. If I can catch some, we'll have something besides apples for breakfast."

"I don't need to—"

"Eat, yeah, I know." He shrugged. "I'm sure it couldn't hurt. You ate apples just fine." In fact, there were a few more cores in the pile than there were when he went to sleep, so Castiel must have had a few more in the night.

Castiel looked away. "My stomach has been upset lately. It started some time after I was trapped in the fire circle. It's never happened before. Eating those helps."

Dean stared at him, a look that just screamed 'are you kidding me?' "That's hunger, Cas. You're hungry."

"But that's not supposed to happen." He looked distressed. Which is to say, he frowned slightly.

"I'm no expert on angels, but this isn't Heaven. This is Purgatory. Maybe the rules are different here." Vaguely, he wondered when he'd started accepting Castiel's angel story as a fact.

Castiel was quiet for a few moments, deep in thought. "That… would explain a few things."

"It would?"

He nodded. "My Grace hasn't worked since coming here. I thought it was just the fire limiting me."

"Grace?"

"Yes. The source of an angel's powers is in their Grace. Without it, they're powerless."

Dean stared at him. "So what you're saying is, as long as you're here, you're basically a human?"

"Basically."

"Well," he leaned against the rocks, "That's gotta suck."

Castiel looked up at him, blue eyes matching Sam's for that puppy- dog look that always worked on Dean.

"Luckily you're sticking with me."

"What?"

Dean grinned. "You think I'm just gonna let you wander around out here and get trapped again? Or worse?" he shook his head. "You're coming to the city with me. Maybe Chuck knows more about this angel power stuff too. We're both looking for siblings, so we may as well stick together, right?"

"I…" Castiel looked surprised, as if he thought Dean would leave him the moment his use was put into question. "Thank you."

Dean shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it. Now, let's get us something to eat."

And so the party gained one graceless angel.

They managed to catch a few small fish in the stream. That is to say, Dean caught a few, while Castiel tried his best with Dean's teaching. He only managed to end up soaking his sleeves and pants legs in the water as he lost his balance. Dean sat him near the fire to dry off while he cooked the fish.

After breakfast, they found the black road and started back on their way to the city. Dean filled the walk with conversation, talking about Sam, his family, their work. Whatever he could think of. Castiel mostly just listened, every once in awhile interjecting a comment of his own. It was comfortable, and the walk passed by a lot easier than when he'd been walking alone.

They made it out of the woods near sunset that night. The trees ended suddenly, and a sidewalk started to frame either side of the brick road. A block away from the forest, there were streetlights lit, casting an eerie glow on the road. It was getting dark, and Dean started looking for a building they could stay in for the night. Not that he expected hotels, but a house would be nice. Just somewhere they could possibly crash on someone's floor.

The buildings didn't look like the modern- day tall steel he was used to. These were all smaller brick buildings, with faded signs. Everything seemed to have sort of an old- fashioned edge to it, like they'd stepped into the business district sometime in the 50s. It reminded Dean of some old crime noir movie in black and white, with dark alleys for secret villainous rendezvous and shady deals at the dock. He wondered where the houses were, with good scared people peeking out of their curtained windows as they watched for all the crime bosses running around town.

This area looked to be mostly businesses, however, which wouldn't really help them at all in their quest for the night. The streets were empty, but he didn't really want to take his chances out here too late at night. And he REALLY didn't want to go back to the woods to camp out again.

Finally, they came across a bar. While it wasn't a place to sleep, it would at least be somewhere to sit down for awhile and think of a plan. They'd been walking all day. Dean was tired, and he knew Castiel must be, although the angel wasn't complaining. Dean figured if he had wings, he probably didn't do much actual walking.

He led Castiel inside the bar, which seemed to just be called 'BAR'. This, as it turned out, seemed to be a bit of a misnomer. It was actually more of a night club than a bar. Although it did have a bar, which Dean was thankful for. There was loud music playing, bass thudding through the floor. He was surprised he hadn't heard it through the walls outside. There was a large dance floor, taking up most of the space in the club, filled with people moving to the beat. At least, some of them were people. There were other things too. Dean caught sight of a few vampires moving along to the music, a werewolf here and there, and a few scaley things that he couldn't place at the moment. But he was sure he remembered his father telling him something about them once. So this was where the supernatural entities of Purgatory came to party. It was a little weird to see. He felt like he should be killing something. He pushed the thought aside. This wasn't exactly the best place to cause a scene. Not to mention this was Purgatory. He only dealt with killing evil things on Earth.

After ushering the angel to the bar, he cast the bartender, a smart- looking brunette, a glance and ordered them both a beer. Taking the bottles from her, he passed one to Castiel. Dean grinned, tipping his back for a drink as he watched his new companion stare at the bottle curiously. After a moment, he took a drink, making a face at the taste of it. Dean actually laughed at that.

He moved to pay the bartender as Castiel turned in his seat to watch the people dance. For a moment, he was struck by the thought that this wasn't Earth, and he most likely had the wrong type of currency. A moment of panic had the bartender laughing at him. She assured him they took all kinds of money in Purgatory. Dean ignored the little comment of 'You must be new' and paid her, turning back to get Castiel's attention.

Only to find the angel missing from his seat.

"Fuck." Dean nearly jumped out of his seat; grip tight on his bottle as he scanned the crowd. Castiel had been watching the dancers when Dean turned away; maybe he'd just gone to join them. There was no sign of a familiar tan trench coat in the swarming masses, which was both a good and bad thing, because Dean was NOT going in there after him.

With the swirling crowd not hiding the angel, he turned to look around the walls of the place. The people who weren't dancing were leaning against the walls, chatting and drinking. It was there that he spotted Castiel, and he let out a sigh of relief. At least, until he saw that the angel wasn't alone. He was talking with a tall blonde man, dressed in slacks and a suit jacket over a light blue v- neck shirt. Castiel was nodding quietly at something the other said, while the stranger leaned closer to him, possibly to be heard over the thudding dance music. The man paused as he noticed Dean staring at him, and met his eyes with a smirk. He knew that look. Hell, he'd USED that look. That was the look of someone on a conquest for the night. And this guy was using it in regards to Castiel.

Oh hell no.

His beer forgotten on the bar, he wove his way through the crowd, storming over to the pair. "Cas, you can't run off like that."

Castiel smiled that little half- smile of his upon seeing Dean. "Dean, this is Balthazar. He owns this place."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Charmed."

The man, Balthazar, chuckled, obviously more amused than offended by Dean's brush- off. "Cassy here's been telling me about your little trip from the woods." His voice was light, playful and heavily accented with something Dean would place as English, if he could find himself caring at this point.

"Wonderful. " He grabbed Castiel by the jacket sleeve, beginning to pull him away. "You can't trust people around here, Cas, remember what happened last time?"

"You really shouldn't tell people they're untrustworthy, you know," Balthazar grinned. "They might get the wrong idea."

"That only matters when you care what they think," Dean shot back.

"You should, seeing as though you're in my place."

Dean tipped his head with a smirk. "Not for long. C'mon Cas…"

"Dean—"

"I don't think he needs protecting, however cute your jealous streak may be," Balthazar crossed his arms, the smirk never leaving his face. Dean was beginning to think that was his default expression.

Instead he narrowed his eyes at the club owner. "I'm trying to get outta here without making a scene. You're making it really hard."

Balthazar snorted. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

Dean growled in frustration, pulling at Castiel's coat again. "Let's go. Before some demon thinks you look too good to pass up."

This made the blonde laugh. "Do you think I'm a demon?"

"Well, I don't trust you, think whatever you want of that," he snapped back, "Also, why do you keep talking to me? We're trying to leave."

"We?"

"Dean," Castiel tried again, resisting the other's pull on his sleeve. "Balthazar isn't a demon."

"I don't really care—"

"He's an angel."

Okay, what? "Him?"

Balthazar looked far too amused for Dean's own good. "Well, I was at one point. I've been here for awhile now. It's quite a better party than Heaven."

"Wow… and here I thought Heaven had standards."

Castiel frowned in admonishment. "Dean, stop. We're not in any danger. Balthazar can help us."

Dean arched a brow. "Why, did he find a way to keep his angel mojo in Purgatory?"

He winced at the momentary look of hurt on Castiel's face, before it was hidden again. Balthazar rolled his eyes. "Angels have no power here. It's too far from Heaven. They get cut off. There's no way to stop that. It's like a cell signal out of range. Even archangels can't do much more than simple tricks."

"Well that's just great. So how exactly can you help us again?"

"I hear you've been looking for an archangel."

"He said he's seen my brother, Dean…"

At this, Dean paused. As aggravating as this cocky bastard could be, a lead was a lead, and he didn't want Castiel to miss out on finding his brother just because Dean couldn't stand the guy.

"You know where he is?"

Balthazar shrugged. "I've seen him. I don't know where he went. But I know he's here."

"Thank god for your help then," Dean deadpanned, suddenly wishing he hadn't left his beer at the bar. Without thinking, he snatched the bottle from Castiel's hand, finishing it in one go. Castiel hadn't liked it anyway. Dean wished it were something stronger.

The shorter angel gave him another admonishing look, but didn't comment on losing his drink. "Do you know anything else? I have to find him before he gets into trouble."

This got a laugh out of the other. "Oh, you're too late for that. He was trouble when he came here, and he's trouble long after he's gone."

Castiel made a face. "That's what I was afraid of."

"And he's not the only brother I've seen wandering around here," he continued.

Dean snapped his head to look at him. "What?"

Balthazar grinned knowingly. "You're a human. I can tell, even with that spell you've got on you. It might fool demons, but I know this kind of magic. And I also know that someone who felt the exact same way wandered in here yesterday."

Sam had been here? Had he landed closer to the city than Dean had? He had a protection spell over him as well. Maybe that redhead was still with him.

"Where'd he go?"

The blonde sighed, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, do you think I keep track of every person that goes through here?"

Dean gave him a look.

"Alright, fine. He went towards the center of the city. Said an angel had told him to go talk to Chuck."

So they were headed toward the same place. That was a relief, at least. He was a day behind his brother, but they'd meet up eventually. Maybe if they made an early start tomorrow morning, they could make up some lost time.

This thought reminded him that he'd originally come here to rest and think of somewhere they could stay tonight. Which he'd done none of, thanks to their new snarky ex- angel friend. But at least it gave him an exit.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stay and chat," he spoke up, sounding anything but sincere, "Cas and I have to go find somewhere to stay for tonight. So we'll leave you to your dance party."

Balthazar seemed amused by that. But then again, what HADN'T amused him so far? "You think anyone's going to let you two stay with them? Hell, I'd say a third of this club's patrons are demons anyway. At least. Spell or no spell, you're not going to have any luck with them."

"Fine," Dean grit his teeth, glaring at the taller man. "Then we'll go back to the woods and camp out."

"Don't be stupid. You and Cassy can stay with me for tonight, and then go back to your little run around tomorrow."

"Stay with you? I think I'd rather sleep in the woods."

"Dean," Castiel huffed, tilting his head at him for a look before turning back to Balthazar. "Thank you."

"Wonderful." He turned to Dean, smirks all around. "Hope you don't mind a pull- out bed."

To be honest, he didn't. It was far better than a patch of ground again. Not that he would admit that to the bastard's face. Ever. Instead he rolled his eyes.

And so the small party found itself upstairs from the club, in a small apartment. There was little more than a living room, kitchen and a hall toward what Dean assumed was a bedroom and a bathroom. A few posters hung from the walls, from foreign films and a few announcing shows the club had done in the past. Other than that, there wasn't much of decoration in the place. The couch was tiny, with an ugly pattern someone's grandmother would have. The remainder of the room was filled with a desk, scattered with papers and records.

Balthazar wasted no time in tossing cushions off the ugly couch, pulling the bottom out into a bed. If the couch wasn't pretty, then the mattress it contained was off the charts. It had probably been white at some point, now an aged, stained light brown. The ex- angel tossed a blanket over the mattress, before handing Dean a throw and pillow off the couch.

"Classy…" he muttered.

The taller man just shrugged. "I picked it up out of a friend's basement. A couch is a couch. I didn't think I'd need a bed out of it too."

"Whatever."

His task finished, he clapped his hands. "Well, I'm off to bed." He shot Castiel a sly look. "You're welcome to join me, if you like."

Dean opened his mouth to snap something, but Castiel's reply stopped him.

"I'm staying with Dean. Thank you though."

Balthazar shrugged. "Suit yourself, Cassy. Can't blame me for trying. Night boys."

With that, he left into the hall before ducking into the last door. Leaving Dean to stare at Castiel.

"You sleeping tonight?"

"Angels don't sleep."

Dean shrugged, tossing the pillow onto the old mattress. "Humans do. Seems like your pal Balthy is too. Maybe you should give it a shot. You look tired."

And he did. He looked like a child fighting to stay up later than he had any right to, swaying a bit on his feet and blinking his eyes more than normal.

"Perhaps…perhaps you're right."

Then he realized something. "Y'know… there's only one bed here."

Castiel tilted his head. "I was aware of that, yes. I didn't think it was appropriate to share with a stranger."

Dean had to chuckle at that. "Not that you've known me much longer." Still, he was a bit grateful, for something as simple as being chosen for company over someone else. "Guess we're sharing then?"

Castiel nodded. It wasn't so bad, Dean figured. It was a big bed. There was plenty of room for two people. And it wasn't as if he'd never shared a bed with Sam before, when motels didn't have any double rooms left, or when generous people didn't have more than one bed to offer for the night.

Still, Sam was family. This was some strange angel he'd met in Purgatory. So it was a little awkward. But it was late, and he was too tired to bother with it. He kicked his boots off, stretching out on half the mattress. It was damp, and he made a face. He really didn't want to think of what that dampness could be. But at least it wasn't in the woods.

The angel slowly lay on the other side of the mattress, obviously not used to it. Dean pushed his pillow toward Castiel's head, instead grabbing one of the cushions off the floor to prop his own head up. Castiel mimicked him with the pillow, still looking uncomfortable.

After a moment, Dean had settled in, closing his eyes. Then Castiel spoke up.

"Now what…?"

A tired green eye blinked open. "Now you sleep Cas."

"Oh." A pause. "How?"

"I dunno. You just do. It kinda comes naturally."

"I've never slept before."

Dean turned, staring at him. "Never?"

Castiel shook his head. "Angels don't need to. I've seen others do it, but it just seems like they lie down and close their eyes."

"That's kinda the gist of it, yeah." Dean sighed, making sure the comforter was spread out evenly over them. Then he noticed Castiel was still wearing his coat. He rolled his eyes, sitting up. "Okay, for starters, you have to be comfortable. So maybe it'd be best to shed those coats. Did you even take your shoes off?"

He nodded, squirming out of the trench coat and suit jacket. He let them lay on the couch's arm, looking expectantly at Dean for further instruction.

Not like Dean knew what to tell him. "Now lie down and relax. Your body should do the rest for you."

Castiel obeyed, settling in on his back and closing his eyes. "How long does this usually take?"

Dean stretched out on his side, head resting on an arm. "I dunno. It depends on how tired you are. You look pretty far off, so it shouldn't take long."

As it turned out, it didn't take long at all. Within minutes of quieting down, the angel was asleep. Dean studied him with a small grin before rolling his eyes fondly, settling in to drift off himself.