Chapter 4

Got a six-pack of beer and a bottle of wine… It's a small-town Saturday night

Small town Saturday Night - Hal Ketchum

Dean slid into the booth uncomfortably, shoving some of the empty glasses aside to place his own down on the sticky table. The heat of the leather seats was cloying, and immediately made him think of long, hot days stuck inside cars, unable to stop or get away into the shade for a moments rest, and he suddenly found himself wishing he had gone straight home for a very long and clean shower before heading to the bar. He shook his head, and stared for a moment at the young man sitting across from him, who had now lowered his head onto the table and had not seemed to notice his presence at all. Dean cleared his throat, to no response, and finally settled on reaching out to sharply prod the other man's arm where it lay next to his head.

'Hey kid, it's a bit early for this kind of bender, isn't it?'

Cas mumbled something unintelligible into the table.

'What?'

'I said do not call me kid.' Cas sat up in one slightly wobbly movement, and squinted across through the bright sunlight, face quickly dropping into a glare once his eyes adjusted. 'Oh wonderful. Just leave me alone. It is not any concern of yours whether I choose to drink or not.' He settled back against the seat.

'I-bu-What?' Dean spluttered, taken aback. 'Dude how are you even conscious enough to sit up, let alone talk back to people like that? You just drained half of the liquor shelf in about three hours according to Steve over there.'

Cas snorted and picked up a nearby glass, draining the rest of it. 'Let's just say I got a high tolerance' he murmured, 'runs in the family'. Dean nodded slowly, leaning back in his seat slightly now it was more obvious that the man was hopefully unlikely to pass out on him.

'Well nobody's saying I can't hold my drink, Ki-' Cas cut him off with a glare. 'but you are something else'. Dean narrowed his eyes across the booth. 'What is your name then anyway? Can't expect me to call you it if I don't know it, can you?'

'Honestly I'd prefer if you didn't call me anything' Cas muttered, running his finger around the rim of the cloudy glass, and sighed. 'It's Castiel'. His eyes snapped up at Dean's repressed snort of laughter. 'I prefer Cas.'

'Yeah man, anyone would' Dean chuckled, waving his hand over at Steve who was still fretting behind the bar, and nodded at him calmly which seemed to calm the poor man down some. 'Well, Cas, you realise you scared my friend Steve there pretty good draining most of his liquor shelf in the middle of the afternoon? Next time maybe mention to him that you're not trying to kill yourself in his fine bar? Cas? HEY!'

Dean lunged forwards, catching Cas by the shoulders as he teetered forwards, face dangerously close to the table full of glass objects. 'High tolerance, huh?' he muttered, maneuvering the limp man back into his own seat with some difficulty. 'You need to go home kid. Hey. Hey!' he clicked his fingers in front of Cas's face, receiving only a bleary half-hearted glare in return. 'Where. Do. You. Live?' he tried, before realising there were no more answers coming his way. He groaned, and glared at Steve across the bar who shrugged sheepishly.

'Great' he muttered, patience for the ridiculous direction this day had gone in quickly wearing thin.

After a rifle through Cas's pockets had produced nothing more than a very new and cheap looking mobile phone, a pack of gum and a drivers license registered somewhere in North Dakota, Dean began to wonder to himself what on earth was happening to his day. Dragging a semi-conscious man through near-deserted streets at 7 in the evening wasn't exactly how he usually spent the average Thursday night.

Still, he mused, at least he'd have a story for Sam tomorrow that wasn't related to the second most exciting thing he'd done that week, which was ordering new tail light covers for the impala on the internet. When exactly did my friggin' life get this dull? he wondered silently, hitching Cas's arm further over his shoulder, as the other man moaned quietly in response. 'Yeah well, this isn't exactly how I planned my night going either' Dean muttered under his breath, glaring towards the oak tree than marked the end of his street.

Cas groaned loudly when deposited heavily and entirely ungracefully onto the slightly battered couch in the living room of Dean's apartment, before immediately curling up and burying his face into the cushioned arm. Dean raised an eyebrow at him on returning from the fridge, and nudged the side of his head with the unopened beer in his hand. Nope. Out cold. He stood for a few moments, staring at the stranger taking up space in the living room he'd gotten so used to seeing empty and mostly unused. He shook his head and walked away, flipping the light switch off as he walked, entirely unsettled by his inability to feel annoyed at the intrusion into his personal space by a complete stranger.

His last thoughts before shutting the door to the living room were simple: This could absolutely not be good.

Just a short one today! R&R? :) nice to know some people are enjoying this :D