Sam, Sam, Sammy.
He was here just a moment ago.
Where is he?
...raised from Perdition.
Cas?
Cas?
Oh, God. I'm alone. Something's after me. I can hear it.
Sam, Sam, Sammy.
Cas, Cas, Cas.
Run. Just run. Now, Dean , go!
Take your brother outside.
Dad?
I need to take Sammy and run.
Now, Dean, go!
"SAM!" Dean sat bolt upright in bed. Castiel, standing over him, gave him a worried look. He was holding two slices of toast.
"Dean, are you-"
"Shut up and give me the toast, Cas." Making it obvious he didn't want to talk about it, Dean held out his hand without meeting his friend's eyes. Castiel gave him the toast and went downstairs, fretting about Dean. He longed to help Dean, but he could not help a man who didn't want his help. Castiel went back to cleaning up the mess he had made. It was hard to make toast when he had a broken arm.
"Cas."
Castiel turned around to see Dean leaning against the entryway.
"Your room is the first door on the left upstairs." Dean refused to meet his gaze.
"Thank you, Dean. Really." Castiel looked away, turning back to the counter. He heard Dean step closer to him.
"Cas, I-" Castiel turned to see Dean leaning against the countertop in his direction. But his eyes were still on the floor. He looked incredibly vulnerable.
"Dean, don't talk to me unless you want me to know anything. If I don't need to know, and nobody is in immediate danger, it can wait. " Castiel looked past Dean's shoulder. He patted his hand and went to the living room, leaving Dean dumbfounded.
He trusts me enough not to pester me. He knows I don't want to talk about it and he respects that. Cas, damn, nobody's done that for me before.
A faint shadow of a smile passed over Dean's face as he went to join Castiel in the living room.
Dean sat at the TV and fiddled with the antenna while Castiel sat and pondered the situation. He could ask Dean what happened, which was what he had been trying to avoid, as it was more than obvious Dean didn't want to talk about it. He could let it slide and worry about Dean but he didn't want to come off like he didn't care about him at all, because that certainly wasn't true. He could try being extra nice to him, but that would probably backfire and Dean would probably get angry with him for that reason.
He really isn't used to people being kind to him because they want the best for him.
Castiel decided to tell Dean his last memory before waking up in the hopes that his being honest would encourage Dean to do the same. There was also the chance it wouldn't work. But there was also the chance it could.
"Dean, I need to tell you something." Dean turned to see Castiel, and the look on his face told him he needed to drop what he was working on and be there for his friend. He got up, turned off the TV and sat next to Cas on the couch, head resting on his arm over the couch.
"Dean, before you found me in the house, I woke up in a field. Do you remember when I pulled you from the Pit?" Dean nodded. "The trees were blown back. That was what I woke up to see. I walked from there to the house. Really, all I did was pick potatoes until you found me again." Castiel tentatively looked at Dean. Dean was looking slightly below his eye level. It appeared Dean was looking at the collar of his shirt. "Before I woke up, I was talking to Frank Devereaux to tell him he would be protected-"
"Frank's not dead?"
"He is, Dean."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I was in heaven with him, explaining what happened."
"Oh, okay."
"Well, just as I helped him understand, I felt this force pull me back out of the blue. I can't describe the sensation, but it's there when you're being forcefully summoned." To reassure Dean, he added, "entirely different from when I am called by a human. Well, the room was almost completely dark, and the only voice I could make out belonged to Crowley. It was in enochian, I can't remember what it was, but then I was knocked out by the spell. Some tiome after that, I woke in the field." Castiel knew it wasn't much to go on, but it was definitely a start. He looked at Dean. Dean looked at Castiel, finally letting his ice blue eyes bore into him.
"I'm getting some beers." Dean suddenly left after a few moments of silence.
Castiel's plan had failed. But Dean did feel better after hearing Castiel's side of the story.
Castiel decided to make some toast. First, though, he needed to clean up. He went to his bedroom and changed his clothes, which were a mess from sleeping in them. He pondered how to be kind enough to Dean to gain his trust. Then he saw his trench coat over a chair. Thinking there could be some money in it, he checked the pockets, only to discover lint and crumbs.
Along with an old, heavy, charred key.
He forgot about the toast in the kitchen and went directly down to the demon-proof room, only to discover that the door was bolted, but the melted parts had been broken off. Castiel rested his hand on the deadbolt and turned it.