"I call bullshit – you're a fucking priest."
"I am a missionary, actually. This was to be a temporary assignment; God was on your side when you found this church. I am to leave tomorrow afternoon, I would not have been here had you came later."
"Right; so you travel around, do your priest work by day and then strap on your spandex suit and kill monsters by night?"
The look of sheer offense that painted the cleric's face was enough to tell him that he had hit some kind of nerve. Dean noticed something else in his gaze, something so out of place that it shook him from within.
"Christ, you're serious."
"Please do not say that here."
"You're fucking serious."
"You developed Angel wings overnight, how is monsters any less realistic at this juncture?"
Castiel was becoming frustrated; he had never met a man so convinced of his own worthlessness before. For a man gifted with such a Holy responsibility it was as if Dean didn't believe that he deserved it, as if he thought himself so low that being turned into a personified Angel was a cruel celestial joke. Dean had clearly given up on himself already, now giving the impression that he had expected God to do the same. Despite this Castiel knew that he could not let this man go, let him wander the world without direction. Dean needed someone, anyone that could guide him onto the path of absolution. Without thinking Castiel reached to Dean then, placing his palm flat on his left shoulder. If words would not sway his beliefs than perhaps actions were called for.
"Please, Dean. Stay until sunrise and I will show you the truth."
"And if you can't?"
"I will."
Determination was in the priest's eyes, that and a sorrow that Dean could not begin to understand. He knew that this holy man would not give him the chance to say no, if his proclamations were anything to go by there was little the priest wouldn't do to keep him there. Resignation swept through him as he turned away from the man beside him – he couldn't look him in the eyes.
"Fine."
"You will stay?"
"Yeah."
He heard the priest let out a sigh of relief and bristled once more. Facing him, Dean figured a little clarification was in order.
"I'm only staying until sunrise tomorrow. You can show me whatever and then I'm out, okay?"
"But-"
"No. If you can't make me a believer I'm high tailing, capisce?"
"Understood."
The priest's hand dropped from his shoulder as they both shifted from one another. It was at that instant Dean noticed the empty feeling in his stomach, hunger gnawing its way through his lower body. Based off of what this Father character had said it had been over 24hrs since he had had anything decent to eat. He really didn't want to ask a priest for some grub but there didn't seem to be any other option at this point. Reluctantly turning to him, Dean was blindsided.
At the center of the man, just below the dip in the front of his rib cage, Dean saw the most brilliant thing. It wasn't so much a light as it was a representation of feeling, transcending color and any descriptive ability. It glowed white hot and luminous, encompassing the outline of the man for a moment. It was breathtaking and gone within the instant it took him to blink. For a second Dean thought he had imagined it, like a Will-o-wisp story from youth or a phantom flicker but when he closed his eyes the imprint was seared into the backs of his eyelids. Furrowing his brow he reached out and gently patted the place he had seen it with his fingertips.
Dean's expression matched Castiel's confusion when the winged man placed his hand in the middle of his chest. Being a priest he was unaccustomed to touch, the warmth of Dean's fingers bleeding through the thin material of his clerical shirt. He wasn't entirely certain what to do – he lacked a well of experience to draw from. In the end he simply waited for Dean to address the bizarre nature of this sudden physical contact. Before Dean had time to register anything there was a resounding knock on the church door. Dean jerked his hand back as if burned from the contact, clutching it to himself as his expression turned horrified. Castiel knew what it appeared to be, thoughts of betrayal and publicity almost visibly swimming through the larger man's conscious mind. Wanting to make haste so as to diminish any suspicions that might arise in his unsuspected visitor, Castiel grabbed Dean and roughly shoved him into the open Confessional.
Before Dean could cry out in confusion or rage Castiel clasped a hand over his mouth while bracing his collar bone with the other and stared hard into his eyes. Dean struggled for a moment before calming and slowly nodding in some sense of understanding. Castiel didn't remove his hand as he whispered in harsh tones to the man in his grasp.
"Be quiet and Stay. Here."
Castiel moved away from him and closed the door, only then realizing he had placed him in the side intended for Clerical use. Crossing himself and hoping God would understand, he rushed to the door as a familiar voice called out.
"Father Christopher? You in there?"
Swinging the door wide, he only then recollected the blood mucked water on the floor and the questionable state of his attire. When he registered the blood splatters on the ceiling and walls he quickly closed as much of the door as he could. The Lord's Prayer started up in the back of his mind of its own accord as he replaced the expression he was sure betrayed his surprise with one of affection and serenity he reserved for families affected by the creatures he hunts.
"Hello Gabriel."
"Hey Father! You sounded a little distressed on the phone earlier, thought I'd stop in for a little look-see, check up on you and what not."
"I appreciate the sentiment, my child, but I am fine. Now-"
"Are you sure? You look a little…"
Gabriel eyed him over, making an almost pained face. Castiel could not begin to fathom what that look meant, never before having been under such scrutiny before.
"…disheveled."
"Yes, well, it has been…quite a night. Now if you'll excuse me –"
"Does it have something to do with the bird you called about?"
Castiel could feel the sweat slide down his spine as internally he began to panic. He knew he was no good at lying, even obscuring the truth or withholding information seemed impossible with prolonged exposure to the person he intended to fool. This was in part why he made priesthood his day job; it required no lies and seemed almost natural for him to appear in places with tragedy occurring. The two jobs worked almost in tandem to the point he could comfortably do both without the worry of it bleeding through or causing complications. This sudden development was quickly spiraling beyond his ability to handle.
"In a way…yes."
"I see. Well, since I'm an expert and I did come all of the way over here, I might as well come in and –"
"I would prefer it if you refrained."
Gabriel eyed him again, suspicion clearly growing with each denial and omission. Faintly, he heard the sound of a door clicking open and minor shuffling. His heart felt as though it was on the verge of breaking his ribs with the sheer force with which it beat, terror washing over him as the idea of Dean being revealed to the world struck him once more. Gabriel's eyes suddenly traveled behind him as Castiel felt a warm presence near his back.
"Is everything okay, Father?"
Castiel involuntarily froze as Dean addressed him properly for the first time since their meeting. Turning to him then he almost sighed in relief as he saw that he had pulled on the large trench coat he saved for rainy days – totally encompassing his wings and coming off as only slightly eccentric in comparison. The look of worry and distress seemed genuine, nearly fooling the priest as he began to reply.
"Yes, my child, all is well."
"Oh, okay…I was just worried, you were taking a while to come back. I was afraid –"
"Have heart, Dean, I will return shortly. Please return to the confessional."
"Yes, Father."
Inwardly Castiel was amazed at Dean's skill in deceit. Technically neither of them had lied and yet he knew what the scene had implied. From the look on Gabriel's face it had both quelled his fears and been sufficient enough to convince him. If he could successfully convince Dean of his importance he would surely become a useful asset in future hunts. Castiel swiftly dismissed the thought – God had intentions for the winged man beyond aiding him in his crusades. It was selfish of him to hope for more from a man already gifted with a purpose above his own.
"Oh, am I interrupting something, Father?"
"Nonsense, child, you're always-"
"No, no, I was just checking on you. Go back to doing the Big Man's work, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Very well, I will see you then Gabriel."
The strange look of worry did not escape Castiel's observation.
"Take care, Father Christopher."
"May God be with you, my son."