Their exit was unlike the way Castiel had entered earlier. It involved accessing the doors in the back room, trailing a flight of stairs that led up towards a single doorway veiled with lines of hanging beads rather than a door. Proceeding through that, and he found himself in one of those two-bit convenience stores with lighting too garishly lit against the store's merchandise, with weak AM/FM radio fizzling in the background. It was the type of small-townish store that Sam and Dean must have grown familiar with on the road.
What a sudden change in scenery! For a second, Castiel thought he may have unthinkingly "flown" (see: teleported) the both of them to some nondescript southern town, but viewing out the shop windows before them and noticing the the narrow road, the yellow cabs and overall concreteness, they were most definitely still in New York City.
Before anything could be said, an Asian man thudded into his side, effectively turning over a stock trolley of boxes he had been handling. The man spat out a loud obscenity in Japanese as it all tumbled to the floor.
Castiel quickly launched into a series of differently and hastily rephrased expressions of regret in Japanese. And while, for a moment, the look the man gave him held admiration for his language skills, Castiel then made the mistake of looking him in the eye and, complete with relevant hand gestures, said in English, "I - AM - SORRY. I - NOT - SEE - YOU. PLEASE - FORGIVE?"
The admiring twinkle in his eye vanished, was replaced with a look of great indignity and disgruntlement, and then, with perfect English and an unaffected American accent, the man huffed, "Yeah, thanks asshole."
Castiel paled. He only managed to blink when he felt a hand grip his shoulder with dear life; it was Audrey clutching onto him as she laughed uncontrollably.
"He speaks perfect English!" she choked out within her hysterics.
The man blew a whistle through his fingers, and the head of a teenage casualty of acne poked around the corner of the furthest aisle. He snapped his fingers in the air and pointed to the mess on the floor, his subtext obviously telling the kid to clean it up for him while he proceeded around the front counter.
Audrey wobbled forward and leaned against the countertop, wiping away a tear. "Ohhhh... evenin' George!"
Castiel raised an eyebrow. His name-tag read "Ken".
"Evening Audrey," he replied, gathering random items from around him into a paper bag, presumably for Audrey. Considering their interaction Castiel assumed she was a regular of his. "Closing up for Jody again, I see."
She nodded. "George"'s eyes darted to Castiel.
"Is he with you?"
"Yeah, this is my friend Castiel. He's a bit socially retarded –" He shot her a frown, and she returned it with a beam. "– but he's cool."
He felt George's eyes fixate on the black lightening bolt on his face. "No kiddin'," he murmured skeptically.
She seemed to bounce on her feet for a moment. "So uh, do you have my, ahh –"
"Ah yes," his eyes glimmered with recognition, "I'll go get it for you."
George moved from around the counter and past them both, but not without eying Castiel up and down. Once he disappeared through another door of beads and began barking orders to someone in Japanese, Castiel spoke.
"His name isn't George."
"I know," she was quick to respond as she perused a magazine. "I call him George after George Pappard from Breakfast at Tiffany's, and he refers to me as Audrey, after Audrey Hepburn from that film, too."
"But your name is Audrey."
Shrug. "He thinks it's funny." Then, closing the magazine ("Vanity Fair", he noted) and pushing it towards her shopping bag indicatively, she finally looked up at him in the eye. Straightaway, there was laughter. "I can't believe you thought he couldn't speak English! That's the funniest thing ever."
"I had no idea," he murmured sheepishly.
"Oh, don't sweat it," she said, her laughter alleviating but her grin never faltering. "The first time I met him, I did the same thing. At least you actually knew Japanese enough to impress him for a moment there." Her regard turned pointedly impressed. "I didn't know you could do that, by the way!"
"I can do a lot of things." He smiled at her a little; it was like an inside joke with himself.
"And that is just what a girl wants to hear." The faintest hint of an indecent smile crossed her lips and receded very quickly. George returned at that very moment, and this time, Castiel was slower to divert his attention away from her.
George presented to her with what could be described as either a book on a budget or a really upmarket and expensive magazine.
"Here you go."
"Thank you. Hold this," she said, pushing the magazine into Castiel's obliging hands. Leafing through it, he found that it was a photography publication.
As George totaled her purchases, Vanity Fair included, she conversationally asked, "How did Kira's Wicked audition go?"
He frowned a little. "Oh, the usual."
Her brow furrowed ruefully as she handed him money. "Only a back-up part, huh?"
"Yeah," he sighed dejectedly, cashing in her change. "My girl loves singing and dancing, but let's face it, no one's looking for an Asian-American Elphaba."
"The sad truth," she also sighed, accepting her change and her bag of shopping. She smiled, "I'll see you around."
"Have a nice evening, Audrey." His eyes twinkled like a wizard as he smiled. Though, the smile turned condescending when he looked at Castiel. "And I - HAVE - GOOD - DAY - YES?"
Castiel had the grace to look sheepish before thrusting the magazine back into Audrey's hands and hurrying out the store. She soon followed, audibly stifling her laughter as she stuffed her purchases into her shoulder bag.
He drew back in amazement and all mortification was forgotten. One look to his right and bam, there were the high rises disappearing into the night sky and the vibrant chaos of advertising. They couldn't have been more than three hundred feet away from the immediate Times Square neighborhood. Already could he see the kaleidoscope of borrowed light from Manhattan's nerve center, illuminating the tail end of the road they were now pursuing.
As they walked down what was probably West 47th Street, considerably slower than everyone else, her arm looped around his; a tradition of which he had become accustomed to. It surprised him that he didn't mind it. In fact, he found it quite comforting, especially in light of the fact that the horde of New Yorkers around them was expanding as they closed in on the end of the street. What a spectacle they must have made; she looked like a Macy's Santaland elf and he looked like a guy who had a bad day on Wall Street.
The electrifying focal point of New York City increased in view with every step he took, heightening each sensation. Every which way, there was something to look at and admire. They stopped on the corner, and while it appeared as though they were waiting to cross the street, Audrey wordlessly allowed him a second to just stop and stare.
The sort of small towns he would often visit with the brothers seemed dead in comparison. This district was so alive; the atmosphere buzzed with that tangible metropolitan dynamism, but there was also an air of theatricality that was truly only New York's.
Evidence of recent snowfall caked the gutters and the roads glistened with reflections of the tireless traffic gliding over it. "Glamorous" was the only way to describe Times Square, and it was everything the lifestyles of Sam and Dean were not. It was luminous, and not in a seedy neon bar type of way. It simply dazzled and enticed.
Snow began to fall ever so lightly, and as delicately as the sound of wind chimes. Somewhere in the background, Frank Sinatra's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" began to play, adorning the ambience with a festive grace.
The moment was one out of a Christmas fairy tale. With a genuinely marveled smile, he peered down at Audrey, who looked rather indifferent until she caught his eye. She immediately adopted a smile.
"Welcome to your first Christmas in New York City," she said, widely gesturing the bedazzling setting before them. Her smile turned wry. "You should see the look on your face. It's like you've discovered a whole new world."
"It feels like I have," he said wistfully.
"So, what do you think?" She crossed her arms as she surveyed the scene. "Beautiful? Obnoxious? Spiritless?"
He did likewise. After a moment's thought, he replied, "It's all of those things."
Clearly not expecting that answer, her face mingled with consideration for a beat.
"I guess. New York has it all."
Her nonchalance bugged him. "You seem apathetic." She blinked at him in a way she must have acquired from him. "This doesn't make an impression on you?"
She shrugged in an "I can't help it" sort of manner. "When you've been raised in New York, few things about this city blow you away anymore."
The gaze they then shared was quickly interrupted by a mob of New Yorkers shouldering past them, as the pedestrian crossing lights had finally permitted them to move. They exchanged glances within the swarm, silently agreeing that it was unwise to just stand there idly, and he allowed her to tug him across a different crosswalk. Just ahead, there was a very prominent marquee that read "Doubletree Guest Suites", effectively guiding his regard upwards and noticing the building that towered over them. He wondered briefly what it had looked like for two of these high rises to collapse eleven years ago. He also wondered if it affected Audrey at the time.
"So were you planning on doing anything here or were you just gonna stare?" she asked, following his gaze.
He regarded her bemusedly. "What is normally done in Times Square?"
"Well, you can either shop, eat or watch a show." She smirked suddenly. "It's very representative of America, don't you think?" She began to laugh, but something ahead of them caught her eye.
"Ooh!" Seizing his hand, she dragged him onward. "Here's the famed Palace Theater! Man, if Jesus Christ Superstar was still playing, I'd so take you to see it."
Jesus Christ Superstar? Did he even want to know? At his questioning glance, she waved her hand around, trying to beckon some sort of recognition.
"Y'know, Jesus Christ! Superstar!" she sang. "Do you think you're what they say you are?" Blink. "Broadway, Cas! Y'know, Broadway?" She enacted a few chorus line moves, and he still stared on blankly. "I swear, you're from another planet or something."
She shot him one of those pitying looks that would usually follow his moments of naivety, but it disappeared quickly and she pulled him to the side of the road.
"So, what's playing?" she asked the billboards above and around their heads. There must have been an unwritten compulsory requirement to have some form of advertising on Times Square buildings.
"Wicked, Phantom, of course... Spring Awakening, Billy Elliot, Chicago, Les Miz, The Adams Family, Priscilla - ooh, the fortieth anniversary of Rocky Horror is next year! And –" she gasped hugely, "– THE WIZ! It hasn't been on Broadway since 1984!"
He wasn't really paying attention. How could he pay attention when there was a naked guitar-playing cowboy across the road? For the love of all that is Holy, it was snowing! Audrey was quick to notice his preoccupation.
"Don't worry, he's not really naked. That's just a really strategically placed guitar."
As the Naked Cowboy spun around with his back to them, serenading another group of giggling women, her statement was indeed verified.
He blanched at her next words.
"Let's go say hi!"
Before he knew it, she was hauling him across the road, barely dodging the moving traffic, and onto the ironically named Duffy Square, which, if you asked Castiel, would say was more of a triangular quadrilateral than an actual square.
They stood together along the red tape barriers, searching the site for one Naked Cowboy.
"Balls!" she cussed. "Where did he go?"
"My name is Castiel."
"Very funny!" she snapped, and he smirked. "That bastard moves fast."
"Maybe it dawned on him that snow is cold and decided to put some clothes on."
"That doesn't sound like Robert," she said contemplatively. She jumped. "Oh! There he is!" He was about to cross to the other side of Times Square. "C'mon! I can get a photo of you with him!"
Again, he blanched.
"What? Oh, no, no no, Audrey, I appreciate the suggestion but that is completely unnecessary."
His words fell to deaf ears. The urge to flee the scene had never been more alive when she released his hand and ducked under the red tape enclosures, in her pursuit for the Naked Cowboy. Salt crunched against the ground as he shuffled his feet, wavering on whether or not follow her - she was lovely and all, but she was nuts! Sighing defeatedly, and prematurely knowing he would regret this, he ducked under the red tape and went after her.
The Naked Cowboy had already crossed the road and was crooning to a snotty looking upper-class couple who were rather reluctant to be around him. Castiel caught up to Audrey, who was scuffling around on the side of the road, waiting for an opportunity to cut through the traffic.
"You don't have to do this, Audrey," he said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.
She mistook that as modest words. "Don't worry, I want to do this!"
"Allow me to rephrase that: I don't want you do this." Had she turned to him, his pointed look might have enlightened her to what he meant. Instead, she took for the nearby crosswalk.
He sighed and scowled up at the night sky as if his Father had orchestrated the whole thing and was avidly watching. Stars winked in response, and he took that as an equivalent of a cheesy thumbs-up gesture with an approving grin.
"HEY!" she was shouting as she sprinted in between people over the crosswalk, as Castiel trudged behind like a long-suffering parent waiting on their hyperactive child.
While traffic wasn't so much of a concern on a crosswalk, the icy road still was. He heard it all before he saw her. There was her squeal and a subsequent crack! before the flock of pedestrians reached the other side of the road and went their separate ways. He saw her on the ground as they parted through the middle, granting her only a fleeting glance, but otherwise ignoring her. She had slipped and fallen.
"Audrey?" he called out, tearing after her and nearly slipping on the ice himself. How could people just dawdle past?
"Are you all right?" he asked, crouching down to her. She wasn't conscious. He scooped up the back of her neck and her head fell back limp; then something warm and wet reached his hand. Switching hands, he saw that blood had stained his palm. It was on the ground underneath her too.
"Dude, she's totally bleeding!" cried out a young voice.
"No she's not!" he immediately yelled up in the general direction of the voice, his head whipping up and discovering a teenage boy standing there in horror.
Castiel did his best not to wince as he dropped her head back onto the ground; that blood on the ice had to be hidden if he wanted this to work. Creeping one hand underneath her head once more but not lifting it, he began to heal.
"You want me to call 911?" he anxiously asked, stepping forward.
"No!" The boy drew back. Then, in a more calmer tone, "No."
"But she's bleeding!"
"No, she's not. Her hair is red, that's all."
"I'm not that stupid, man - I saw the blood, I saw it with my own –"
Castiel lifted the back of her head to the teenager.
"– eyes..." All signs of blood were gone; both on her and on the ground. "But... I totally saw it. I swear, it was there!"
By the end of his sentence, Castiel had scooped her up into his arms.
"At least you allowed her more than a momentary glance," he said, as he began to move off with her body, "unlike other people in this city."
The next chapter was meant to be apart of this, but I found that it was too long that way, and too many things were happening in the one chapter. So the next one should be up sooner than usual since it's almost complete.
Read and review :D