Someday - Chapter 8

Blue eyes, blue eyes,

What's the matter with you?

Blue Eyes - MIKA

It was hardly approaching dusk when the rain started. Cas, unpacking a box with particularly odd contents (so far the elusive coffee maker, four tubes of toothpaste and a bible had emerged from it, each object further mocking his ridiculous lack of packing skills) at first took the noise to be the ancient fridge thrumming away in the next room. It took the entire living area lighting up in a sudden flash of white light for him to look up and notice the pounding rain bouncing off the window pane with a vengeance. He stood up and rushed over, mouth falling open at the sight. The house at the top of the dusty hill now stood at the top of what looked more like a miniature waterfall. The car, previously caked in a week's worth of dust and dirt from the drive down, now gleamed happily in the driveway, looking cleaner than it had in years. Cas shook his head, hardly believing the sight. The dried up bushes on either side of the door looked just about ready to spontaneously burst into flower right there and then.

Half an hour later, when the storm showed no signs of stopping any time soon, Cas put down the box of random objects and sat down for a break. It wasn't too bad, sitting in the no longer scorching hot house watching the sky outside grow darker with clouds and listening to the radio attempt to pick up a signal that wasn't loaded with static. Rain had never been his favourite kind of weather, but at least it was better than being stifled by the never-ending Southern heat. It made the car journey back from town that morning seem a million miles away, speeding away with the windows down and no jacket on, even then too hot in the early morning sun. He hadn't really needed to wear his jacket since stepping out of the car at the garage for the first time a few days earlier, although habit kept it close to him regardless.

Wait. For that matter, he hadn't even seen his jacket since the night before. Cas scanned the room quickly, littered with half-unpacked boxes and a distinct lack of jacket. A quick check of the kitchen, sole bedroom and bathroom confirmed the rising fear in his chest - this house was very empty of a coat of any kind right now. Cursing under his breath, he stormed through to the hallway and paused at the door, bracing himself for the dash across the drenched garden path to the car. Opening the door, Cas took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and splashed out into the soaking darkness.

Thanks to Sam's quick thinking in calling him as soon as the rain had hit Memphis, Dean had managed to park the car in a rarely used indoor garage down the road from his house and get inside before the storm really started - but only just. About ten minutes after he'd walked in the door, not even enough time for the coffee pot on the kitchen counter to have really brewed, the type of rain that Bobby always called the holy onslaught really began to pummel the pavements outside.

Of course they'd seen plenty of these sort of storms before. It was just too hot and too humid in the summer months to not encounter a good number of thunderstorms. And while they didn't come too often so as to ruin the hot weather streaks, when they did come, they came bad. Summer monsoons showed up every so often as well, lasting a few days and leaving everything slightly damp and sticky for a few weeks afterward. A low rumble of thunder shook the sky outside as Dean sat with his coffee at the table, watching the sky darken quicker and quicker through the small window. He wondered how Sam was doing. He'd sounded ok on the phone, but it was no secret that he had always hated thunderstorms in any shape or size. Back when their Dad was still around they'd spent the record-breaking hurricane summer of 2005 in Louisiana traveling around cheap motels with leaky roofs, which was enough to make anybody nervous of storms. Any shopping trip that ended in being evacuated by the National Guard from a flooded street in Thibodaux was never going to leave pleasant family memories to dwell on afterwards.

The sky outside continued to darken steadily, and Dean was in the middle of considering whether or not he should call Sam back when a very out-of-place noise trilled through the kitchen, so out of place that Dean's first thought was whether or not he had left the TV on in the bedroom. The doorbell rang again and he stood up, hurrying towards the front door.

He flung open the door and found Cas, shivering and huddled up right onto the pitiful shelter of the doorstep, dripping water from every appendage.

'Are you mental?' Dean hissed, grabbing the front of Cas's sodden shirt and hauling him into the passageway, the wind slamming the door shut of it's own accord behind them. 'Like, do you actually have a death wish? Because that's your own business dude, just stop trying to pin it on me!' he stormed down to the hall closet, pulled out a towel and threw it towards the shivering man behind him. Cas caught it gratefully, drying off his face and head before looking back up to reply and seeing only an empty hallway ahead of him. He peered around into the nearest door, where Dean was slamming around the kitchen, seemingly putting coffee on to boil. He followed through the door tentatively and cleared his throat.

'I'm sorry to bother you. It's just that I believe I may have left a jacket here when I er - when you brought me here last night.' Dean turned to stare at him. 'I can just collect it and be on my way.' Cas finished, faltering slightly under the look he was receiving. 'What?' he asked defensively, hoping that he wasn't about to be thrown straight back out into the storm without so much as the return of his coat. Dean shook his head disbelievingly.

'You drove across town - you did drive here right, please god tell me you didn't walk?' Cas nodded. 'You drove across town at 7 o clock at night in the beginnings of a goddamn tropical storm - to get your jacket.' Dean put down the half filled coffee pot he was holding, staring ahead with an odd look on his face that was starting to make Cas rather anxious.

'Um. Dean? Are you okay?' He ventured. Dean looked up at Cas's face, head tilted slightly to one side and eyebrows pulled together in confusion - and lost it. He burst out laughing so suddenly that Cas jumped violently. Sides shaking, he shook his head and grinned at him.

'Castiel, I don't know about you, but I think I need a beer.'

The storm gathered strength for another hour or so, the rain gradually picking up intensity until it bounced in arches half a foot high from the concrete sidewalk outside. After a quick search of the living room Cas found his jacket rolled into a crumpled ball and shoved down the side of the sofa, an action he could only attribute to his own drunken self. After having first a coffee, then a bottle of cheap beer, then a collection of stern looks and lectures on the dangers of driving in the rain thrust towards him, he stopped talking about leaving and settled down into a reasonably comfortable armchair while Dean fiddled around with the gas fireplace, trying to get it to turn up. The TV hummed in the background, the rolling headlines of the local news flickering on and off as the TV struggled to retain power.

It was oddly domestic, and as the muted rain continued to beat down onto the double glazing, Cas felt himself relax properly for the first time in a few days. Dean burned his hand on an oddly shaped bit of metal and swore loudly, and Cas shut his eyes, leaning back in the chair and feeling for the first time the peace he'd been searching for in Jericho washing over him.

Hi! Sorry this has been a while coming, I've been working on a lot of other things! Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter and I look forward to reading some reviews :D