Here's a fast update for you! Don't you just love snow days?

Chapter 12

Dean waited at the foot of the grand staircase. All the cameras were trained on him, ready to go, but he could only pace the floor nervously as his eyes scanned for the one face he wanted to see.

Beautiful sparkling gowns swam by in a blur of myriad colors, but a certain blue hue was conspicuously absent. He readjusted his bowtie for the fiftieth time and checked the clock again.

"Dean—it's five past seven. He's not coming," the show's producer, Balthazar, whispered in his ear. "We need to get started."

"Just give me a few more minutes." He glanced over to where six ruby red roses sat on an end table. Only one of them actually mattered though.

A familiar giggle echoed from across the room and Dean strode over to where Gabriel was unabashedly flirting with some of the crew. "Dude, where's your brother?"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you've lost him, have you?"

"No, I'm serious. He's supposed to be here."

Gabriel scrunched his face like he was trying to recall the last time he'd seen Cas. "Hmmm…Cassie definitely left the stables with me…it's all a bit fuzzy though…do you think a twenty might help jog my memory? Feel free to hand over your money any time now…"

"I mean it! Where is he?" Dean's hands itched to throttle the shorter man.

"So angsty, Dean-o!" Dean continued to glower and Gabriel gulped. "Look—I let the little stinker filch my room key so he could steal back that coat he loves so much. You better not clue him in on that one though; he thinks he's clever."

"You're not helpful."

"Well, you didn't pay me, did you?"

Rather than slap Gabriel like he wanted, Dean turned around to scan the room again. He was about to screw the elimination entirely and start looking for Castiel himself when a slender hand squeezed his bicep.

"Dean, darling, forgive me, but I couldn't help overhearing your conversation and I think I know where Castiel is."

Dean twisted to find Bela crowding his personal space in a dress her curves barely fit into. Her hand wrapped around his arm in what she probably assumed was some sort of seductive gesture. It felt more like a snake's coil than anything else.

He ripped his arm out of hers with a speed that surprised him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt nothing for a woman in a tight dress. "So where is he?"

"He left," she said simply.

"What?" The world blurred around him and he couldn't see straight. "How would you know that?"

"I saw him walk out the front door, suitcase and all. Look, I'd really rather not repeat this but," she leaned in and whispered lowly in his ear, "he said to tell you, for what it's worth, that the kiss didn't mean anything. He just wanted to see if you'd do it."

How could Bela have known about that? Something was out of place but the answer eluded him. Bela couldn't have known about that night, not unless Castiel had said something. Dean was suddenly assaulted with an image of Castiel sharing all their moments to a circle of giggling girls and laughing at how ridiculous he had been.

Had Castiel been playing him the whole time and he never realized it?

The corners of Bela's mouth tipped upwards in a triumphant grin. Dean was buying everything she was selling if the green tinge to his cheeks was anything to go by.

"He told you about that?" the man croaked and pulled at his bowtie like he couldn't breathe.

She adopted a mask of sympathy. "I'm afraid he said rather a lot about you. But none of it matters anymore because he's gone now. We can finally get things back to the way things were supposed to be."

"And how was that?" he said blankly.

Bela reached up to trace the side of his mouth with a long nail. "I seem to remember you being quite a ladies' man, Dean. I've been looking forward to experiencing some of your moves, if you get what I'm saying," she said in a silky tone.

"So he's gone?" God, the man was an idiot sometimes. Bela really hoped the money would be worth putting up with all the one-sided conversations.

She was impatient now. "Yes. He's gone, okay? Left for good. He packed that stupid camera of yours in his bag and took off."

Dean appeared to be in shock for several moments before she saw a flicker of…something…cross his face.

"How would you know he had a camera if his suitcase was packed when you saw him?"

Bela stumbled, trying to recall what she had said. "He's a cameraman, Dean—of course he has one, it's part of his job."

"No, you said specifically the camera I gave him." Bela imagined she could see the gears turning in his mind—she was losing him.

"Dean, let's not get off track here. It's for the best Castiel left. He was an embarrassment to the show and your family. You belong with someone more…appropriate," she appealed.

"No."

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said no." Dean's eyes hardened. "Something's not adding up here and you're a part of it somehow. Castiel wouldn't just leave, not if he got my note."

"Dean—"

"I don't believe you, Bela. Now get out of my way so I can go find Cas."

"You don't really want him!" The sentiment escaped her as she clung to his sleeve.

"What would you know about what I want?" he said coldly.

"I did it for you; I told Castiel you were eliminating him tonight. You should be thanking me!"

His eyes widened. "And what did you do with my gift? Did he even get my note?"

She didn't answer but Dean saw what he was looking for in her expression. He practically snarled.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." Bela's grip loosened instantly and all her clever words disappeared. Dean turned around and walked away.

"You won't find him! He doesn't want you!" she yelled to his back.

Dean flipped her the middle finger in reply.

Dean grabbed a rose and cursed a little as one of the thorns drew blood. He berated himself for believing Bela and tried to quell the panic that jumped within him at the thought of how Castiel must have reacted to her lie.

It was like watching time slip through his fingers; with each passing moment it seemed more and more unlikely that he could ever fix things and that Castiel would forgive him. He had to find the man fast.

His mind skimmed through his options. Cas couldn't have made it farther than the airport. A British accent interrupted his thoughts however.

"Going somewhere, Mr. Winchester?" Balthazar said, obviously still pissed they hadn't started on time.

"Don't give me that crap, Bal. I don't care about the stupid show. I have to find Cas. He's supposed to be getting one of these." He swatted the flower across the producer's cheek.

The other man's bad mood disappeared in an instant. "Excellent. Carry on then—you can't plan this sort of ratings goldmine. However, you had better say something and excuse yourself before going off to chase your man."

Dean wanted to say a lot of things, including some particularly choice phrases to Bela.

Balthazar looked like he knew what Dean was planning however and cut him off. "I absolutely insist that you keep the Talbot girl though."

"Go to hell."

"Producer's call." Dammit. The producer was allowed one override per season due to something about ensuring a successful show and keeping colorful characters in play or whatever.

Dean growled. Didn't anyone understand that Cas might board a plane any minute? He turned to the group, placed both pinkies in his mouth and whistled.

"Uh right, well," he said to the silent room, "sorry to cut things short people, but there's been a change in plans. We're missing someone who deserves to be here and I've suddenly discovered that…I have to go." He ripped off his bowtie. "Everyone except for Jo and Meg take a rose and I'll see you later."

A single clap echoed across the frozen room. "And let's all give Dean a round of applause for hosting the worst elimination ever, shall we?" Gabriel inserted with a barely restrained grin. "You'd better run for it, Dean," he whispered conspiratorially.

If Dean were prone to spontaneously catching on fire, Jo and Meg's combined glare probably would have done the trick.

He tried to take the Impala. However, the moment Dean revved the engine, the other doors of the car opened and a bunch of microphones were shoved in his face.

"So does this mean you're gay after all? Castiel isn't just a publicity stunt?"

"What makes you think he wants you too?"

"How do you imagine your father will react to the news?"

He couldn't do this, at least not with what felt like a million cameras following. The panic rose again to new heights—he'd never find Castiel this way. Despite his reluctance to admit he ever needed it, he whipped out his phone and called for help.

Bobby Singer arrived in a whirlwind of bitter curses against the winter wind that slammed the barn door shut behind him. He stomped his boots and glared at Dean, who stood by the entrance.

"You know I love you like a son, kid, but what the hell are you playing at by calling an old fogy away from his fire on a night like this?"

Dean glanced back toward where the cameramen and Balthazar perched in his car. One ambitious intern was even attempting to film through the tinted window.

"I need a driver," Dean mumbled with his back to the car. Bobby's gaze drifted toward the Impala.

"Son, it's not that I'm not flattered, but I don't have a death wish either. No one touches that beauty but you. I just drive everything else."

"This is more important," Dean said hurriedly.

Bobby contemplated him for a moment and Dean must have looked exceptionally panicked because he asked, "What do you need exactly?"

"Just follow my lead."

Dean approached the vehicle with a false smile. "Gentlemen, I can't drive in this sort of state." He held out his hands and noted with surprise that they were already shaking without his encouragement. "Therefore, Mr. Singer here has graciously agreed to drive us. If the overambitious intern would get out of the passenger seat, we can go."

The intern was promptly squeezed into the back of the car and Bobby sat down in the driver's seat. Dean threw him the keys.

Dean walked slowly to the passenger side, leaned in through the open window and winked in Bobby's direction. "By the way, Bobby, I'm pretty sure Cas went to the Denver airport. That's what Bela said at any rate."

Balthazar's brows furrowed. "That seems odd. The Denver airport's almost three hours away…"

"Well, you better get going then!" Dean cried and whacked the top of the car. Bobby, who never smiled, grinned at Dean and roared out of the barn, with the camera crew trapped inside.

Gabriel, however, proved much more savvy than the camera crew. Dean found him leaning outside the barn as the Impala's taillights disappeared down the road.

"Don't supposed you bothered to ask Bobby to hand over the keys to another car, did you?"

Dean's stomach dropped. No, he hadn't. Bobby kept them all on a long keychain he carried with him.

"I thought as much. So what's the plan now, stud?"

"To get rid of you as soon as possible," Dean snapped but still found himself at a loss. He was sure that Castiel would have used the old mountain airport that sat almost twenty minutes down the road but he wasn't any closer to getting there than he had been before.

Gabriel was unfazed. "Too bad you let Bobby have Impala. I mean, the Impala."

That was it! He still had his horse! "Yeah, about that. I gotta go—why don't you try being helpful for a change and call your brother to let him know I'm on the way."

"And ruin the surprise? That doesn't sound like me at all. But you go get'em, tiger!"

Gabriel chuckled to himself as Dean bolted toward the stable. He was rather clever, if he said so himself. Served the guy right for thinking he could mess with Cas.

If Dean could have pictured himself racing off to find Castiel, he might have imagined himself bent low over Impala as she flew along the road. In that fantasy, he would have found Castiel straightaway, slumped dejectedly by the side of the road and looking to be rescued. Dean would have suavely offered the other man a lift on the back of his horse and they would have ridden off into the sunset together with Castiel's arms curled around his waist.

Instead, Dean shivered in the saddle as Impala trudged steadily into the icy wind. The flashlight he had brought barely lit up the road ahead and his cheeks stung with what he was sure were the beginnings of frostbite.

Castiel, of course, was nowhere to be found. Not that Dean imagined the man would have walked to the airport in such weather (No, only he was apparently that stupid), but he had sort of hoped he might find him on the road and sweep him into his arms like some sort of romantic hero.

As soon as Dean thought that, he cursed himself for having obviously spent too much time watching Sam's chick-flick collection.

However, Castiel wasn't at the airport either. Dean had burst through the doors to the old building, scared half a dozen people who sat in the cracked seats, and then been promptly kicked out by some crusty security guard who claimed horses couldn't be ridden inside airports, but he hadn't found Castiel.

All in all, it wasn't one of his best nights.

Dean's heart sank as the mansion came back into view. In a daze, he went through the motions of putting Impala down for the night, barely thinking about the act as he did it. A steady chorus of, he's gone, he's gone, echoed through his mind. He couldn't believe he had messed everything up so epically.

He slipped silently through the patio door, tiptoeing across the dark wooden floors. It looked like most of the house had gone to bed in his absence, but he was careful regardless. The last thing Dean needed was a second round of public humiliation.

Dean had been sure he was heading toward his own room and the unknowing bliss that came with sleep and was thus surprised to find his feet had carried him unconsciously instead to what had been Castiel's door.

It was almost like the exact events of the previous twenty-four hours were repeating themselves in an eerie cycle. He had stood here just last night, when, for second, life had been absolutely perfect. Detached, Dean watched his hand raise itself into a fist to knock on the solid frame. The sound echoed eerily up and down the hall, reverberating for what seemed an unnatural length of time.

Therefore, he was almost positive he was dreaming when a sleepy cascade of black hair and a pair of piercing blue eyes answered.

Sorry for the cliffhanger! I couldn't find a great place to separate these chapters but I can promise a quick update!