Chapter Two - Meet The Angels
Maybe it's just because he's exhausted, maybe it's because of Pamela's soothing, or maybe there actually is something that calmed him in this house, because he isn't woken by anything other than the clock next to his bed chiming lowly for midday.
Pulling some layers of clothes back on, Dean yawns, and proceeds to walk out to the kitchen, listening behind the living room door to make sure that there were no customers in there before he makes his way to where the cereal is stored in the pantry.
Feeling better than he had in a while, Dean eats the cereal while reflecting on his lack of a hangover.
It isn't usually this bad. He'd have the nightmares once or, if he was unlucky, twice a week, and it'd be one night of sleep that would be gone. The only times that it usually flared up was when they were dealing with a case where demons were involved, or if he saw any part of himself, especially his hands, covered in blood. If he was holding a tool as well they were usually worse. They were also aggravated if there were any supernatural creatures around.
He supposes he could blame them on the whole tooth pulling thing, but the dreams had picked up before that. For the last two weeks he had been getting hardly any sleep whatsoever, and he didn't know what to blame it on. The drinking was usually only something that he had to do after a nightmare, but it was turning into an everyday thing, even before he went to sleep.
Maybe Sam had been right to keep giving him Looks.
Pamela walks into the kitchen, brandishing a wooden spoon. "Sleeping Beauty awakes! You didn't need to sleep, huh?"
"Yeah yeah yeah, rub it in. It's just…" Dean hesitates, the instinct to avoid the subject of his dreams large and ever-present in his mind. But Pamela had been in there, she understood as much as anyone could ever understand, and she was just standing there, not judging, and if he chose not to say anything then she wouldn't hold it against him.
"Lately they've been picking up, for no reason whatsoever. Instead of once a week it's once a night and the only thing that helps is to drink, except that doesn't really help so I just drink and drink and still there's dreams and… I don't know. It sucks."
Pamela nods. "Sounds like you got a problem. Do you want some sleeping drafts? First time free, see if they work."
Dean smiles slightly. "Yeah Pam, that's be great, thanks."
Leaving the psychics house, Dean crosses to the Impala. Getting in, he drives back to the apartment to tie up the last loose ends of the hunt. He calls Sam, makes sure that he got back to DC safe and that Jess hasn't killed him. Sam claims he's fine, but Dean can hear the tired edge beneath his voice that he's sure is echoed in his. Thankfully Sam doesn't ask about why he is tired, and Dean hangs up relieved that his little brother is out of harm's way.
He goes and knocks on Chuck's door to let him know that he's back, that he doesn't have to take care of the apartment anymore and to say thank you for keeping an eye on it. Chuck's response is his typical rambling hero worship, and Dean huffs out a laugh at it.
Back in his apartment he inventories his weapons, and completes his section of the paperwork for the hunt and emails it to Charlie. She sends back a reply thanking him for it, and tells him that Garth and Victor have been taken off the team until they're fit for duty, which may be a few weeks, longer in Garth's case. Definitely after Jo leaves, which leaves them down three team members, and that's if you include Charlie.
Dean reflects on this as he pulls out his bag, which he had thrown on the bench, and unpacks it, putting some things in his washing pile and some in his wardrobe. He brings out his weapons, and begins cleaning and sharpening the swords, storing them safely, and hiding them in the safe places throughout the apartment where no one would find them even if they went looking for them. The one in the ceiling above the cupboard is the most hidden one, and Dean doesn't think that anyone who didn't know it's there could find it.
When he had finished unpacking everything, Dean starts to go through his very large stack of papers for any suspicious murders. He always kept the obituary page as well as any articles that looked like supernatural activity might be involved, filing them in the cabinet in the small room taking up space between the kitchen and the bathroom.
Filing and organising all of the papers from the ten days he was absent from the apartment that Chuck had meticulously collected is a mind numbing task, but also passes the time extremely quickly. Before he knew it the clock was chiming midnight, and he's looking dubiously at the bundle of plants that Pamela had given him.
Dropping one leaf of the plant in a glass of water, Dean lets it sit for fifteen minutes, as per Pamela's instructions, before he brushes his teeth and changes into clothes that were more accommodating for sleep. Instinctively he almost reached for the bottle of Jack sitting not-so-innocently on his kitchen counter before refraining. He would try Pamela's weird leaf thing, and if that didn't work then he would go back to the not so effective method of drinking himself into unconsciousness.
Pamela had said it would work for about six hours, and while that was more than Dean got most of the time, it still isn't the amount she wanted him to sleep. But Dean's life was busy, and cutting down on the hours he slept helped him to keep on top of things.
Dean opens his eyes groggily. Is there something he's meant to be doing? It felt like there was something he should be doing. He rolls over slowly, blinking owlishly, to check the time.
6:01
"Shit," Dean barks, trying to get up but getting his legs and feet tangled in his blankets and falling out of the bed instead.
Madly dashing around his apartment Dean left with his tie and shoes in his hand, without eating or brushing his teeth, only half of his usual gear on him and probably looking like a mess.
Luckily, the traffic was fine, and Dean gets there just on time, ending the most rushed twenty nine minutes he'd had that week.
"Just made it in time huh Dean?" Krissy smiles at him.
"Yeah, yeah, shut it short stuff."
"Victor's grabbing some breakfast in the cafeteria. You look like you haven't eaten anything yet. And Rufus was being really cagey about something yesterday and this morning, and I'm pretty sure that he's down there as well. All the others were talking about something, but stopped when I came near. Jo doesn't know anything about it either, and it's starting to piss her off. Rufus must have told them about whatever he was being secretive about. Tell me when you find out?" Krissy puts on her most persuasive face. "It'll annoy Jo if I find out what it is before her."
Dean frowns. "Charlie told me that Victor's off until he can walk around without help from anyone or anything. And I don't think I'll be in Jo's good books if I tell you before her. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."
"Yeah well Vic didn't get the message until I told him this morning when he limped in here. He said that he really didn't want to fight his way back through the city so soon after he did on his bum ankle. And yeah, I'm sure we'll find out, but we're always last." Krissy pouts. Dean can't really blame her. He would hate finding out information last.
"It's one of the things about being an intern. I'm going to go and find Victor – I'm starving. I'll see you around Krissy."
Krissy scowls at him, and Dean walks down the hall to the elevator where he could ride it down to the third floor, where the cafeteria was. The only bad thing about it is the fact that it is shared by every unit, so whenever they went they couldn't discuss anything about their job. Everyone seemed to like the excuse to talk about things that had no relation to what they did, but Dean just couldn't. He just didn't have anything that he did outside of what he did. Even Sam's job is related to it, so he couldn't even really talk about what his brother is doing. Charlie has her games and her LARPing, which was something that Dean really wants to go along to one day, Victor talks about his sister and what she is doing in politics, Annie told stories from when she was a bartender at one of LA's sleaziest bars, Ash has his computer stuff, and Garth just told jokes that everyone laughed at, no matter how bad they were. Dean didn't do anything much beside his work.
He takes a moment to appreciate just how crazy his life is.
Victor was sitting by himself at a table, and he waves at Dean while Dean stood in the line, getting a couple of pieces of bacon, two eggs and two pieces of toast. Seeing Rufus standing over at the side of the room with a group of strange looking people, Dean frowns and sits down across from Victor.
Dean leans over to speak to the older man softly, not wanting the other people in the room to hear. "Who are they?" He gestures towards the six people on the opposite side of the room, all of whom are standing as if they had a ruler along their spines. There's a half-bald guy wearing a suit who is talking to Rufus. He seems to be making Rufus nervous, which is something that Dean is finding hard to believe. Nothing makes Rufus nervous.
Next to them is a blonde man who is drinking what looks like a cocktail, is wearing black jeans, a grey shirt with a black jacket over the top, and is ignoring everyone and everything in the room as if it's below him.
A black bald man who hasn't stopped scowling since Dean has walked into the room is also wearing a full suit and is looking down his nose at all of the agents, but whenever the man who is talking to Rufus turns to look at the other five, he puts on a pleased expression that fades as soon as he turns again. Dean decides that he dislikes him.
An attractive girl who looks about 18 with fiery red hair is standing next to Mr-Scowl-a-lot. She's the most casually dressed, with jeans and a white top covered with a green army jacket. Her expression is searching, and she watches the people coming in and out of the doors with an expression that Dean finds slightly off-putting. She is looking like she has never seen a human before, and while that is cute on some people, on her it makes her look otherworldly. Dean wonders if she is single – and if she would appreciate someone asking her out. She looks just like Dean's type. Apart from the whole creepy staring thing.
A blonde innocent looking kid is standing next to the red haired girl, and Dean narrows his eyes in confusion when he sees that he's wearing a Weiner Hut uniform, and Dean speculates why a 17 year old is standing in the FBI's cafeteria. Did the badge on his shirt say Alfie?
But it's the man standing next to Alfie that makes Dean pause. He wonders how he had even seen the others, how it had taken so long for Dean to see him. The man is looking around at everything as if it were the most interesting thing he has ever seen. He is the furthest away from the group, but he definitely belongs to the group, as everyone is avoiding getting in his way, moving and even abandoning their hard won food if he wants to poke at it. The man is wearing a tan trench coat, covering black slacks and a white button down shirt with a blue backward tie. Does he look vaguely familiar?
But it's when he looks up and locks eyes with Dean that he really appreciates the new-comer. His eyes are so blue he makes the sky look like a washed out cloth that has seen too many uses.
He's vaguely aware of Victor staring at him in disbelief. He's picked all this up in a few seconds, and now he had been locking eyes with the blue-eyed man longer than he had spent observing the rest of his party. The black bald man says something that Dean can't pick up, and the trench coated man turns slowly and walks back to the others.
Dean sighs softly and turns back to Victor, who is looking at him like he had grown another head. "What?" Dean asks, wondering what he did to deserve that look.
"Were you just checking out an angel?"
"Angel? Victor what are you talking about?"
"Have you been listening to anything that I've said? I'm not going to repeat it. Just check your email." Victor sounds annoyed, so Dean decides to just get out his computer and start it up, sweeping his forgotten food off to the side.
He cannot believe what he finds.
Of course he knows about angels – who didn't? He had just never met one, or knew anyone that did. And now apparently as a part of the new Human-Angel Initiative, or HAI, they would be working with them. Dean knew that no matter what, supernatural creatures were nothing more than that. Blood thirsty killing machines that he had to protect the world from.
There was an email that had been sent to all FBI members regarding the newcomers, saying that they were to be respected and if they wanted you to do something, you should do it. There was another sent to the SPN team that detailed the situation more. Jo and Krissy hadn't been sent the email.
He isn't sure what to think about angels though. Aren't they meant to be naked babies who sat on fluffy clouds and watched over civilisations from afar?
"Are you telling me that those people over there," Dean pauses, unsure if he's ready to state the next part of the sentence "Are angels?" He feels all his good feelings towards the red haired girl and the blue eyed man dry up.
"Yeah. Apparently they're looking at us and choosing some candidates for their partners. Canvasing us." Victor sounds disgusted.
Dean can't find it in himself to blame him. "Who are they choosing from?" Because if it's just the SPN unit, why were they standing in the cafeteria? Why had an email been sent the other members? All units took their food here. It would be much more efficient to introduce them separately, where everyone would know what was what and nothing would be hidden.
"Uh, everyone."
"Everyone?" Dean certainly did not squeak when that came out. Definitely not. "Even the normal units?"
"Yeah. But they're not going to know what they are. Just that they are a new agent."
"Holy crap that is a recipe for disaster."
"That's basically what everyone is thinking. I think only two of them are going to go to other units, and three stay with us."
"What about the sixth one?" Dean asks.
"The guy whose talking to Rufus is kinda like their leader I guess. He's just here to introduce, shake hands, and then he's gone. The others are the ones that are staying."
"That's ridiculous. How are they going to hide what they are from the units with no knowledge of the supernatural? That's what we're for – keeping the truth away from the civilians."
"I really don't know what they're trying to do. Rufus didn't say anything in the email, and when I asked him about it this morning he didn't say anything that he hadn't already."
"Maybe the high-ups told him that he's not allowed to say anything to us until they say so?" Dean suggests, watching the angels with a critical eye, looking for signs to show that they aren't human. They're gazes are too calculating, bodies too still, backs too straight, posture too stiff, just all over not human.
Rufus finishes talking to the bald man, spots Victor and Dean sitting together and winds his way through the tables towards them.
"Good morning boys. Can you round everyone up for a meeting in my office in ten minutes?"
"Garth is at home with his arm, but everyone else should be here."
Rufus nods, and waves them away. Dean offers an arm for Victor to lean on, and he takes it with a huff, but they probably make it to the elevator twice as quickly as they would have if he hadn't.
"Good morning Lara."
Lara gives the two of them a quick smile. "Dean! Victor. Hey. Hi. You guys probably want to go to your office don't you? Of course you do, you're in the elevator coming up from the third floor. Unless you're going out. Which you totally could be doing, I mean Victor you have a cast around your ankle, I really don't think you should be walking around, and maybe Dean has convinced you of that, but since you're both really focused on your job, doing whatever you guys do on the fifteenth floor, I mean I'm not asking that would be top secret stuff right? I'm sorry, please ignore me, I'm babbling, I do that when I get nervous, and I'm nervous now and I'm just going to shut up now."
Dean smiles slightly at the brown haired girl's reaction to seeing them. After he had rescued her from a situation where there had been at least nine guys and one Lara, and no one who was willing to help her around at the time, he was subject to her rants around him, as she got nervous when he was around, and she talked a lot when she was nervous.
"Yeah Lara, we're just going up to our level for a meeting. You can stop on your level, it's okay, don't cancel your floor."
"Sorry. I won't do it again. Unless you're in a hurry. Then I'd do it again."
Lara gets off on her floor, and Victor shoots a glance on him. "She's got a bit of a crush on you."
"No she doesn't. She has a crush on Charlie, I know that."
Victor grins, raising an eyebrow. "Have you introduced them yet?"
"I will soon. I'm still making sure that Lara's a good person, although she's passing with flying colours so far."
"That's you Winchester. Always looking out for others. You should try looking after yourself every once in a while."
Dean opens his mouth to respond, to tell Victor that he does take care of himself thank you very much, but then he remembers the sleepless nights and too much whiskey, and closes it.
Deciding that Krissy and Jo need to hear this as well, Dean invited them into the meeting room, ignoring their questions, telling them they'd get it soon enough.
Gathering all of the crew, Dean sits down between Ash and Krissy, leaving a couple of chairs where Rufus could choose to sit. But when the older man comes in, he isn't alone.
Dean should have been expecting it, should have known that the angels would come up with Rufus, and that this new Angel-Human Initiative was going to be the source of the meeting. The blonde man with the cocktail stands in a corner, and even though he was sipping it every few seconds, the level of the liquid didn't seem to go down.
The angels continue through the meeting room to Rufus's office, the one with the trench coat lingering, eyes on Dean. Then he looks at the one sipping his alcohol in the corner and frowns slightly. "Balthazar, leave the humans to themselves."
Balthazar rolls his eyes at the dark haired man. "Whatever you say Cassie," he drawls slowly in an English accent. Stalking past the rest of the team, who are seated, and Dean, who had stood as soon as he had realised that the angels were there, he casts a disgruntled look at the table and the people around it. Dean didn't think that 'Cassie' is a name for an angel, not like Balthazar, and thinks that it might be a nickname. Do angels nickname each other?
'Cassie' gives Balthazar a slight scowl, something you could have easily missed. Just by looking at this guy for a minute or so, Dean could tell that he shows his emotions through his eyes, not through his expressions.
Rufus motions for him to sit, but Dean doesn't move until he couldn't see any angels. Then he slowly sinks down into the chair.
"By now you've probably all seen the email I sent you. Just over a month ago, Zachariah approached the board of directors, saying he wanted to… work with us." Dean takes notice of the pause, and he's sure that everyone else in the room does as well.
"Working? With angels?" Dean makes sure his surprise and displeasure are apparent in his voice. Rufus purses his mouth slightly. "You know, supernatural creatures that could tear us apart as easily as they look at us?"
Rufus lets out a huff of breath, and there is tension in his shoulders, spine stiff where it is usually slouched. "It's not my decision," he says, a rare bit of honesty and truthfulness and doubt edging through in his voice. Letting out any negative emotion towards the high ups is something that none of them did, but Rufus in particular. If he wants to keep his job, then he needs to be in complete support of what his bosses want, and he needs to make his team think the same way. Dean doesn't particularly like it, but he also doesn't want to lose this job, since there are a multitude of hunters out there who are more than willing to step up for a steady job and steady income while also killing anything supernatural that they find. He wants to stay, so he plays along.
He can see the sentiment in all the others faces, nobody saying anything, but all of them thinking along the same lines as Dean is.
"Look. Just give it a go, okay? They approached us, so they must want to be friendly. Don't aggravate them," Rufus says, brows furrowed as he looks straight at Dean. "Don't ask them any questions that they don't want to answer," he says at Charlie. "And don't make them smite you," he looks at Krissy.
"Hey!"
"The paperwork would be horrible," Rufus finishes, looking over them. "Can you all at least try?"
Dean hesitates, but when he sees that everyone is waiting to see what he does, he nods slowly. It's followed by soft noises of assent from the others, and Rufus's mouth pinches in just a little, like he knows who the real leader is, and it's not him. Dean still isn't sure that that role suits him, ever since he was first elected to lead he hasn't been sure it suits him. He wears the mantle of a leader a lot easier now, and is much more comfortable with the others looking up to him, depending on him to know what to do.
Dean wonders if the angels know about his status.
"Good. Now you also know that the angels are going to be choosing partners from you, and the other FBI units. Castiel, Anael and Uriel will be choosing partners from within the SPN unit, and Balthazar and Samandriel will be choosing partners from the other units. They'll be around, watching and looking so they can choose partners…" Rufus trails off, obviously not knowing how the angels will choose. "Based on who they like," he finishes, and Dean sees Charlie and Annie raise their eyebrows almost simultaneously.
"So, come and meet them, I guess." Rufus stands, and Dean follows him into his office, the rest of the team trailing behind them. Dean doesn't fool himself, knowing that the angels would have been able to hear every word that they said in the other room. He isn't sure what they would make of it, but he knows that they would have heard.
Dean pegs Anael as the red haired girl, and Samandriel as Alfie. 'Cassie' must have been short for Castiel, and the other angel who isn't the leader must be Uriel, aka Mr Scowl A Lot.
Rufus introduces them, and sure enough Dean gets the names correct. Zachariah is the leader, Uriel is the bald angel, and Alfie's alter ego is Samandriel. Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean throughout the whole process. Zachariah is the leader, and he eyes Dean up in a way that he doesn't particularly like. As soon as names had been passed around, Zachariah starts speaking.
"Have you informed them of the premise of our arrangement?" He asks, staring down at Rufus. Rufus nods. "Very good! I'll be seeing you around then," he said, eyeing Dean up again before disappearing with the sound of rustling feathers. Dean feels his eyes widen, and decides not to leave out or do anything around here that he didn't want to be found, not if they could pop in and out as they pleased.
Rufus shifts uncomfortably. "Everyone, choose an angel and say hello, and ah, chat for a few minutes."
Dean narrows his eyes. Jo immediately walks over to Anael, Ash and Rufus approach Samandriel, Annie goes to talk to Castiel, who looks at Dean before speaking lowly with the older woman. Victor and Charlie look surprised when Balthazar walks over to them.
Krissy is standing close to Dean, and Dean watches as the dark skinned angel, Uriel, approaches them. He looks like someone stuck a rotting fish under his nose, and Dean thinks that he doesn't want to be here. Krissy takes a small step closer.
Looking down his nose at them, Uriel sniffs. "Hello," he says, sounding displeased. Dean feels himself bristling instinctively, and resists the urge to shove Krissy behind him.
"Hey," Dean returns warily. What are they even meant to talk about?
"You should know that even if we are being made to work with you mud-monkeys," Uriel almost snarls, "I take no pleasure in it, and would rather be doing anything else."
Dean swallows. "Yeah well we're not too happy to be working with you either," trying to swallow the words stuck in his throat about how Uriel could go and shove his opinion where the sun doesn't shine.
"You are small, insignificant, and worthless," Uriel continues, evenly. "So even if you are being gifted with Heaven's presence, do not take it to mean anything about yourselves, and don't get ideas."
Dean feels his mouth drawing up into a line. "We won't," he says.
Uriel smiles, and there's something wrong about it. "Good. As long as you know your place, you'll be fine."
All of the angels suddenly looked upwards for a second, and then gathered together once more in one part of the room.
Dean looks the angels over again, once more noting how Castiel's eyes are focused on him. Balthazar tips his head back slightly, draining his never ending cocktail, and throws the glass over his shoulder. The glass doesn't reach the floor, disappearing halfway, and by the time Dean has finished tracking it with his eyes, all of the angels except for Castiel have left. Another two seconds pass, where the angel unerringly holds Dean's eyes, and then he too is gone, the rustle of his feathers somehow more distinct from the others.
"Well," Ash starts. "That went well."
"You don't say," Victor grumbles. Dean just shakes his head. What is he mean to do about this new arrangement?
Rufus lets out a breath, something small that you could easily miss. Something that the others in the room probably missed, because they don't pay as close attention to everything like Dean does, and that's because they don't have a reason to pay such close attention. Dean wishes with every fibre of his being to forget why he needs to pay such close attention to everything. His hand almost goes to the unmarked and unscarred anti-possession tattoo, but stops. It's a nervous tick that he doesn't need the rest of his team knowing about.
"The angels will pick their partners in a few days, and Zachariah will tell me who they've picked. Until then, just go around on your normal day to day tasks, and do your normal tasks. The angels will hover, but they probably won't do anything too drastic, so don't approach them until you have to. We still don't know how they react to anything, and until you know them better you have to treat them as if they'll explode at any second, okay?"
Everyone nods, and all Dean can think of is how badly this is going to go wrong.
At least the report he filed on aerial attacks makes a bit more sense now. Although Dean doesn't think that anything could stop an angel, not with their disappearing skills.
As soon as he's out of the office that day, Dean calls Sam.
"They've done what exactly?" His brother voice is a mix of confusion, concern and fascination.
"Sam, don't make me repeat what I just said."
"It's just. Whoa. You're going to be working with angels. Angels Dean. Real life angels."
Dean snorts softly. "If it'll get any of the starry eyed notions out of your head, they're kind of dicks. They all just follow they're leader around, don't say anything, and one of them was drinking a refilling cocktail."
This just seems to make Sam even more enthused. "But there are so many reasons why they could be doing that Dean! Do they share a hive mind, are they being controlled, do they have to be controlled, are they willing to just follow their leader around? Do they choose to follow, do they have the option of disobeying or not? It's fascinating, and interesting, and this is why I joined this world, I want to find out interesting things about stuff that other people don't know! I want to know about these things, I want to learn, I want to know."
"I think you're getting too worked up about this Sam. You're not even here, how are you going to learn all this?"
Sam goes quiet for a second. "I can't leave Jess, not now, with such little time before the baby gets here. It's only another three months, and Dean I just can't leave her."
"Yeah, I know Sammy. I want you and Jess to be safe okay? I need to know that you're safe up in DC, with your house and your dog and your backyard and your family, okay?"
Sam sighs. "You shouldn't measure your life around me Dean. You need to make some friends that aren't who you work with, and get some hobbies that haven't got anything to do with the supernatural world. You need to get a life Dean."
Dean feels his lips flatten into a line, an old argument that they'd had many times before surfacing. "Sam, I've lived my whole life around you. I'm not going to stop now."
There was a tense silence on the other end of the phone line, and Dean can imagine Sam looking up at the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck and wondering what he could do about his crazy brother.
"I think I might bring Jess down there," Sam changes track, and it's a jarring switch in the conversation that Dean has to struggle with. "She's cooped up in here, and she needs a change in scenery, even if it's only for a weekend. I don't think that you can fly too far from the end of the pregnancy, so we need to come down now if we're going to."
"Okay Sam. Ask Jess if she wants to come down, and if she says yes then you're welcome to come and stay at my place for a weekend."
Dean can hear Sam's gratitude over the phone. It was always carried in his voice, rather than the words he would say, and in the body language that he used. Even with half the equation, Dean can figure out that Sam is happy that Dean is accepting the olive branch he's extending. "Thanks Dean. I will. Now go and research about angels. Ask if you can have a couple of days to go and visit Bobby and Ellen, take Jo with you before her course. Hell, take your whole team. It'll let off some stress, and get you away from the office for a weekend."
"I don't know. Pretty sure they want us all around the office so the angels can 'observe' us. But I'll ask Rufus tomorrow."
"Do you think one of them will pick you?"
Dean snorts. "I don't think so. I don't want any partner, let alone one that's a supernatural creature. I have no idea why they would want to pick me, and I am going to give them absolutely no reason to pick me. They can latch onto Charlie and her outbursts of whatever craze is gripping her right at the moment."
Sam is silent for a second. "I don't know Dean. You're a pretty inspirational guy, and you're the unofficial leader. I'm not sure why they wouldn't want to pick you."
"Apart from all the sins I've got tacked up on my bill? Lets' count them, shall we? My entire job, from lying to killing."
"Dean."
"They probably wouldn't approve of the drinking either, and even if they understand the reason behind it, well, that's just another thing to add to the list isn't it?"
"Dean –"
"Not to mention my trail of one night stands a mile long."
"Dean!"
Dean shuts up for a second. Sam is silent as well. "Like I said, I don't see a reason that they wouldn't want to be around you, alright?"
Dean pulls drives into his parking space, and uses the fact that he's getting out of the car to excuse his silence.
Sam isn't fooled, and continues quietly. "I'll ask Jess about coming down, okay? I'll call you once she's decided."
After the usual farewells, Dean is left standing alone in his apartment. He's tired, from the stress of the day, and all he really wants to do is lie down and go to sleep. Instead, he walks over to his not immodest library, and starts looking for all the books he can find that look like they might mention angels. His bookshelves are more organised than Bobby's, who seems to have a filing system that occurs nowhere else on earth, and is impossible to find anything in, so in ten minutes he has a stack to read through.
"Time to get going," Dean mutters to himself as he pulls the first book in front of him.
The next four days are annoyingly similar.
Dean gets about or less than four hours of sleep each night. If he tries to sleep any more than that the dreams come, screwing up his rest more than staying awake does. And staying awake and being at his apartment means research. A lot of research.
He had asked Rufus about going up to Bobby's, but the captain had shot him down, telling him that maybe after the angels had picked their partners. They needed to be all together now, and while Dean couldn't really understand that, since the angels could literally be anywhere they wanted in the blink of an eye, but maybe it had more to do with the team staying together, rather than what the angels were doing.
The angels hovered, and when he said that he meant that. There was always one in the corner of the room, not saying or doing anything, just watching, just looking. It was driving Dean up the walls, and he found any excuse he could to get out of the office. Occasionally they exchanged words, and by the day the Rufus tells him who the angels have chosen he's spoken to them all at least once. Anael is probably the most bearable. He was sure that the angels were the source of the very frequent reoccurrence of his dreams.
No one could find any hunts of value, just a few small salt 'n' burns across the country that Dean emailed to Bill, so he could sent some hunters that were in the region that way to take care of it. Although by the third day Dean would have driven for those five days, there and back, just to get away from those eyes, which were always present.
Castiel was the worst. Dean could deal with the other angels, since they divided their staring time equally between all of the people in the room. Castiel just stared at him, and only looked away if anyone got too close to him. Dean was sure that it was slowly but surely driving him insane.
When Rufus calls the meeting to tell them who the angels had elected Dean was extremely relieved. No more staring, he can get along with his routine with only a few glimpses of an angel every now and then.
Which was why he was in utter disbelief when Rufus told him that one of the angels chose him.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't make me repeat is Winchester. You got yourself an angel. Zachariah assigned them to partners, and you were one of the chosen ones." Rufus glares up at him from his desk where he was sitting, Dean standing above him with his hands planted on the desk. "A lot of people would do almost anything to be around an angel for an extended period of time."
An extended period of time, Dean thinks despairingly. "How long is this going on for then?" He asks, desperate to hear the answer of only a few weeks, a few months.
"There's no end date. Whenever they feel like pulling out."
Dean gapes. "So I'm stuck with an angelic partner until he doesn't want to hang around anymore? Do you know how patient angels are? Don't they live forever?"
Rufus tilts his slightly, opening his mouth a little. "It won't be forever. Just live with it, okay?"
Dean purses his lips, figuring that he didn't really have a choice, no matter how much he didn't want to do this. Even the thought of being near a supernatural creature and not killing it was putting his stomach into a lazy barrel roll, his meagre breakfast trying to force its way up his throat.
"Rufus…"
Rufus sighs, and Dean knows that he knows why Dean is so hesitant to do this. "You can do this Dean. Think of it as a step forward."
"Yeah I don't need any extra steps in my staircase of problems. But whatever. It won't be for every case, will it?"
Rufus shakes his head, suddenly sure of himself once more. "Only some cases. Mainly the demon ones."
"They do know that I avoid the demon ones as much as I can, right?"
"They insisted that you be one of the ones who were chosen for a partner. Angel logic, ain't make any sense to me, but then again, how can we understand them?"
Dean agrees, and as he was about to leave, he remembers to ask something. "Which angel is partnered with me?"
Rufus looks up from where he is shuffling some paperwork on his desk. "Ah, Castiel I believe."
Of course it's the stalker angel.
"Get Jo and go and talk to them. They're in the meeting room."
Collecting Jo on the way to greet the angels, Dean could feel her excitement. "Angels Dean! Real angels! Partnered with us!"
"If I hear that line one more time, then I'm gonna punch something," Dean mutters, pulling open the door. Anael and Castiel are standing in there, and Castiel's eyes immediately lock onto Dean's. Shifting uncomfortably, Dean stands on the opposite side of the table of the two angels, and once again lets himself weigh them up.
Anael is standing with her legs slightly apart, dark jeans fitting snugly under a white button down shirt and a green army jacket, the same as what she had been wearing when Dean had first laid eyes on her. Her posture is relaxed, open, and seems unthreatening. Dean knows that she is anything but, that she could twirl and become a deadly fighting machine in less than a second.
Castiel is still wearing the tan trench coat, which baggily falls over his frame, easily allowing objects to be hidden within its folds. His suit is cheap looking, doesn't fit him well, and isn't tailored to him. The blue tie that he's wearing is turned around backwards. Dean wonders if Castiel had tied it himself. The angel's blue eyes were sharp and piercing, and they contrast with his dark hair. His jaw is strong, and Dean can see the lithe lines of his body hiding underneath the multiple layers of clothing.
"Hey, I'm Dean." That was probably completely unnecessary, but Dean felt that introducing yourself was one of the first things that you did when you talked to someone for the first time, even if they already knew your name.
"My name's Jo," Jo said next to him, and Dean could have grinned. The younger female was learning after all, taking cues from the leader and following without questioning.
"I am called Castiel," Castiel intoned, voice rough and deep. Dean feels his breath catch slightly, the sound of Castiel's voice reverberating through him.
"I was named Anael, but please, call me Anna." Anna smiles slightly, and Dean thinks that something as powerful of her shouldn't look so innocent.
Anna walks away to the corner of the room, and Jo follows, probably to talk about their schedules, what they're going to do and how to work together. Dean eyes Castiel from the other side of the table, watching him watch him. Castiel seems inclined to let the silence lay, so Dean feels obligated to say something.
"So how's this going to work?" He asks, watching the angel's reaction.
A faint line appears between Castiel's eyes as his eyebrows draw together, and he studies Dean. Dean can feel his layers being stripped away, and feels like the angel is looking deeply through him, seeing his soul, something that he really doesn't want out in the open.
"I believe that you call me if I am not present and you find signs of demonic activity. Otherwise, I will be following you when Heaven does not require me, and if you are in need of help, I can assist."
"So I just wait around for you?" He would have to get the angel a phone, since he doesn't think they came equipped with one.
Castiel's head goes back for a second and then he narrows his eyes. "I am not here to do your job Dean. If I am present I can support you, but if I am not then do not count on my help."
"Don't worry, I won't." Dean says the words calmly, trying to hide how his hands were trembling slightly by clasping them behind his back. He pauses before continuing. "I thought angels were meant to be guardians… fluffy wings, halos. Not dicks." All of the information that Dean had gathered so far about them pointed to the fact that they all sucked. Especially Uriel, he is the worst of all of them.
Castiel doesn't say anything, but narrows his eyes. "Read the bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."
"Then why haven't you been around down here before now, getting rid of monsters, saving people?" Dean questions.
"Everything has its purpose Dean. Everything happens for a reason. We cannot interfere, because everything has a balance."
"That's bullshit. Good people have died, are dying, will die, and you're not going to do anything about it because it's 'God's plan?'"
Castiel blinks and Dean realises that he hadn't before now. "Yes."
Resisting the urge to really tell Castiel what he thought about that since it would probably get him killed, and Rufus had told them to avoid that, Dean swallows instead.
"Fine," Dean says when Castiel doesn't. Speaking to silence is disconcerting, and is something he's not used to. He feels more at ease when Sam's speech and Charlie's chattering surround him, not this oppressive silence, filled with something that he couldn't name, Castiel's eyes on him, silently studying him as if he was worth being studied.
"Come here," Dean says, and he brings his phone up to snap a photo of Castiel. The angel looks vaguely confused, and Dean smirks at it. Definitely going on his badge.
"What… is that for?"
"If you're gonna be part of the team, you're going to need a badge to flash."
Castiel narrows his eyes. "That does make sense."
Dean feels the corner of his mouth lifting up against his will. "Yeah, it does. I'm just going to let you know right now, I'm not thrilled about working with you."
Castiel's face stays emotionless. "I too have better things to do with my time than watch over one human, but my superiors will it so, and I must obey."
Dean thinks about Sam's questions then, but he thinks that it's too soon in their relationship to start asking him them. "Whatever you say, as long as you know I'm not willingly participating in this."
Leaving the still silently staring angel, Dean walks out of the room, followed quickly by Jo. She's smiling, and Dean thinks that her meeting probably went better than his own.
"She's nice. I like her. She said she'll come with me to training, and learn there as well. She said she could arrange that with Rufus for her to get a place, even this late. It's going to be cool."
Dean grunts, still not liking how Castiel had remained distant and aloof through their talking. The angel could have at least tried to connect more with Dean, since they would be working together for a while? Dean had made an effort after all – he did talk to the guy.
Maybe Cas really didn't want to do this either. Dean is struck by the thought. Cas did say he didn't want to do this, but would the angels force unwilling participants into their midst? Cas must have not minded too much, or he would have said no to being here. If the angels were forced though, Dean thinks that that would be an even bigger disaster waiting to happen, but he didn't know if his thoughts were correct.
Didn't Rufus say that the angels could choose who they were partnered with? Didn't he just say that they were assigned? Dean frowns slightly, and the issue of it rolled and turned over in the back of his head for the rest of the day.
When he gets home he calls Sam to tell him about Castiel, and Sam congratulated him on his promotion.
"A promotion?" Dean asks bemusedly.
"Well partnering an angel is a step above what you normally do right? Did you ask for a raise?"
"Damnit."
"I'll take that as a no."
"I'll use it against Rufus when I ask to go to Bobby's."
"Oh yeah, Jess told me that the weekend after next is when she said we could fly down."
Dean calculates it in his head. "If I stop over in Denver, I can get to Bobby's in two days. That means if I leave before Sunday I can still get there and back and have a few days there before you guys get here. Now all I have to do is convince Rufus."
"I'm sure you'll be able to do it."
"Yeah yeah. I have to call Bobby to make sure he's home and I actually can go. Are you definitely coming?"
"Yes, the flight is booked, and everything's ready to go. I'll see you and your mystery new partner, okay?"
Dean huffs, and says goodnight to his younger brother. Glancing over at the bench, Dean bites his lip before turning away from the incriminating silence and the golden glow of the whiskey.
Pulling up his desk chair, Dean opens one of his last books that he has on angels. The past few days he had made his way through half of his library, re-reading books that had nothing to do with angels but mentioned religion, Christianity, or anything related to angels. Dean isn't sure how much of it is correct, but he figures being over prepared was better than being under prepared.
Rubbing his eyes wearily, Dean turns the page. It was nearing two am, and he's considering going to sleep. It was only the memory of the dreams that had been plaguing him for the last two weeks that kept him out of his bedroom.
Another hour passed, and Dean acknowledges that he is probably exhausted enough not to dream.
Letting his head fall down on the pillow, he almost felt like he fell asleep before he closed his eyes.
"I believe that as it is a working day, you should currently be at your work. Unless the human custom has changed since I last checked. As I checked four minutes ago, I do not think it has changed."
Dean had jerked awake after the third word, and now he was staring at Cas with his eyes half lidded, trying to remember if his head was pounding because he had a hangover, because he had gotten too little sleep, or if Cas had woken him up from a nightmare. That had happened the few times Sam had shaken him awake when he was living in DC with his brother, and Dean had no wish to repeat those experiences. After a second he decides it's because of the too little sleep option, and stumbles out of bed, half dressed and not prepared to face the immaculate angel.
"You alarm is going off, so I assume you are not meant to be here, but since you are still sleeping you probably were exhausted enough to ignore it, even though your hunter trained senses have been honed to wake you if there are any sounds. So Dean," the angel continues, and Dean is really not awake enough to deal with this. "How have you been sleeping?"
Dean makes a sound that probably comes between an 'arrg' and an 'urp?'
Castiel looks confused, and Dean doesn't really blame him.
His eyes are gritty, and his body is heavy with the sensation of not enough sleep, something he has known a few times, but never while he was meant to be resting, like he usually is here.
Maybe those dreams were getting to him.
"What are you doing here?" Dean finally manages to get out, and that's when he realises that there's an angel in his apartment, and holy shit does that wake him up fast.
"Krissy and Charlie both expressed concern over your whereabouts, since it was ten minutes past the time when you usually get there, and I told them I would check with what was keeping you. I flew here, and you were present for the rest."
Dean squints at him, rubs his forehead and grabs some clothes before walking into the bathroom.
Feeling exposed with the angel in the apartment, Dean has one of the quickest showers of his life, brushing his teeth and getting changed in under ten minutes. He looks at his suit in loathing, already despising it. It was these kinds of days that he wished he was just a hunter, with no responsibilities, able to do whatever he wanted. He could go to a bar, relax, play some pool, flirt with some girls and maybe take one back to his hotel. It's been too long since he's slept with anyone.
Castiel was still in the apartment when he had finished getting changed, examining his gun collection with a critical eye.
"That firearm will back fire in two shots," he says, pointing to one of the Glocks.
"What? Don't be ridiculous." Dean walks out the door, locking it behind him. Hearing the rustle of feathers, he turns to see Cas's scowl being directed right at him.
"That was not hospitable."
"You were the one who flapped your way in while I was sleeping, so hey, don't talk to me about hospitality."
Getting into the elevator, Dean raises an eyebrow when Cas didn't join him, and instead was waiting at the bottom.
"Your vehicles move too slowly," Cas says defensively, and Dean opens his mouth a little at that.
"Okay, first of all, an elevator is not a vehicle.
"It moves you around via machinery. Just because it goes up and not down means that it is not a vehicle?"
Dean blinks. "And second, angels get travel sick?"
"Your vehicles move too slowly," Cas repeats, and really what can Dean say to a travel sick angel?
"Okay then. If you want to fly off to wherever then, go ahead. Otherwise, come and check out my baby." Dean smiles. Cas probably wouldn't appreciate the Impala, but he always liked showing her off to someone new.
"I was unaware that you had offspring Dean."
"What – Cas. I don't have a kid."
The angel narrows his eyes at the nickname, but doesn't comment. "You just told me to come and look at your child Dean. I don't know what else that could mean, other than your offspring."
Dean closes his mouth, and wonders if he had got himself into a bigger hole than he had realised here.
"I meant the Impala."
"I do not understand how your car could count as your child Dean."
Dean doesn't know how to respond to Cas's question, so he just keeps his mouth shut, getting into the driver's seat and turning the engine on.
Cas appears with a rustle and Dean glances over to him, trying to look at the angel without looking at the angel.
"Ever heard of a door handle?"
"Of course I have."
Dean doesn't know how to respond to that either, so he just drives.
Thus commenced the most awkward thirty two minutes of Dean's life since Sam was growing up. While Cas sits in the passenger's seat, never once looking uncomfortable even though apparently angels get travel sick. Dean tries to focus on the road, on the traffic, on getting to work. Exhaustion still clung at his eyes and in the migraine that was accumulating behind his forehead. While he had escaped the nightmares that plagued him last night, he knew he would have to sleep more tonight, and he was certain that he wouldn't be able to catch a break, and he'd dream then too. Castiel didn't seem to mind the silence, but Dean had grown up with loud conversations and louder tapes when he was driving, a tradition he continued on after John left when he was fifteen. Sam was used to it, as was the rest of the team, but he can't make himself turn the radio on with Cas in the car. It doesn't feel right for some reason.
Dean doesn't like the angel. He turns up in his apartment, doesn't understand half of what Dean says, or if he did he took it the wrong way, rigidly stuck to the rules, unlike Anna and Balthazar at least, and he never stopped staring.
Even now he's doing it, and knowing that there are eyes on him, eyes of a supernatural creature, is sending ice crawling down his spine, and Dean is sure that this is the source of his increased dreams. Knowing that there is something that could easily kill him who knew about him, knew about the people he works with and cared about was feeding Dean's nightmares. Lately they were less about random people bleeding and screaming and more the people he knew bleeding out underneath his own hands. Dean is sure that Sam would realise something was up as soon as he came down here in a week, and Dean knew that Sam would try to talk about it. He just didn't understand why it mattered. He was coping, he could deal, he was managing. Maybe not as well as he could, but he was still managing. So Sam should keep his nose in his own business.
Sighing, he carefully goes around the bends in the car park, and when he gets out this time, Cas uses the door.
"So you decided to turn up after all – whoa, Dean you look like crap." Krissy is looking him up and down, and Dean could really do without that right now.
"Yeah yeah Krissy." He grumbles. Cas walks off to do whatever he did in his spare time, and Dean sits down heavily at his desk, wondering how long he could keep this job if his dreams kept acting up.
"Krissy was right, you do look like crap."
Dean raises his face from his hands, looking up at Charlie. He isn't sure how much time has passed. "Gee thanks."
"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?"
"I don't feel comfortable answering that right now."
"When would you choose to be comfortable with it?"
"Never."
"Oh, how could I have guessed that answer? Dean you've been looking worse and worse all week. Just be glad that Rufus hasn't come in yet, and all of us are willing to cover your ass."
Dean throws a smile up at her. "Thanks Charlie."
"Now tell me how much you've slept over the past couple of nights."
"Charlie –"
"Judging by his bio-chemical levels, Dean has slept eleven hours over the last six days."
"Wow Cas, thanks for sharing."
"You're welcome Dean. Judging from your brain activity right now, or lack of it, and how what is left is trembling with exhaustion, I thought that you would not have been able to remember."
Charlie widens her eyes at him. "Thank you Castiel."
When no answer comes, Dean turns in his chair to see Cas poking at the water dispenser.
"So Dean," Charlie starts, "How are you going?"
"I can't sleep," Dean bites out, looking over at Cas to make sure he isn't listening, hoping that if he throws Charlie a bloody bone she'll be happy.
The red-haired woman's face softens a bit, but she continues. "Okay, why?"
Dean glares at her, wondering if he can find some way to change the subject. Although knowing Charlie, she would only know for sure that Dean only had something to hide, and wouldn't let it drop. She was like that.
Sighing, Dean gives up. "I think it's the angels. Being around supernatural creatures and not trying to kill them… It's a trigger. And it's screwing up my sleeping times."
Charlie bites her lip, and Dean sees the moment where he knows that she reaches the same conclusion that he has – there's no way of getting around this, unless Dean wanted to quit his job.
"Well maybe you need you get used to them a bit more, see that they're not going to hurt you."
"That's the problem though!" Dean spits out, extremely aware of Cas walking around the room. "I can't Charlie. I can't convince myself that they're not here for some ulterior motive, I can't convince myself that they're not going to hurt me, or you, or anyone else I care about, and even if I did believe that consciously I don't think I could make myself believe it unconsciously."
Charlie doesn't say anything, but when Dean looks up she's biting her lip, staring off into the distance. Dean knows that she's thinking, but he already knows there are no easy solutions to this problem.
"Have you dug up any hunts?" He asks instead, because that's easier, he can deal with that conversation, and he really wants to leave the current one.
Charlie's eyes flick to him at the change of topic, but she lets it lie. "Nothing. It's like peace has descended upon the land. For the life of me, I can't find anything nearby. There was something in Maine and Vermont, but I sent those over to Bill, and they were only small things too, not certain. Maybe the presence of our guardian angels have scared them off?"
Dean snorts. "Unlikely. Look, if you find anything, can you tell me please? I think if I get out of here I'll get back to sleeping normally."
Charlie nods. "Okay then. Where are you going?"
"To the gym. I really need to wake up."
"And you'll do it by hitting things until you can't see?"
Dean silently flips her off behind his back, and listens to Charlie's laughter as he leaves the office, a slight smile gracing his face.
Thud thud smack hit. Thud thud smack hit. Thud thud smack hit. Thud thud smack hit.
Dean punches the punching bag a few more times before leaning back and wiping the back of his hand on his forehead. He's been in here for nearly an hour, and all of that time had been spent hitting the garish red bag in front of him. Stripping off the bandages he had put over his knuckles to keep the skin from breaking, he starts going round the room spending ten minutes with each of the different weights, doing the different exercises.
"I admit, I do not see the point of this."
Dean swears under his breath and stops himself from spinning and launching a weight in the angel's face with the sheer force of his will. It's a close call.
"Far fucking out, Cas," Dean hisses. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Sighing, Dean leans against the wall. "And you can't just fly in like that Cas. This gym's used by any member of the FBI who wants to use it. Someone could have seen you pop in." Dean looks around. There were only a few people in here, and none of them seems to have marked the angel's sudden appearance.
"Why?" The angel asks.
"Because not everyone knows that you exist Cas! Okay, in here they probably wouldn't ask questions, I know I've seen some weird stuff and haven't commented, but they're civilians! Our job is to keep them safe, not expose them to the supernatural world!" Dean says lowly, confident that the angel can hear him, and making sure that the other people in the gym couldn't.
"And this, keeping them away from the truth, you believe in this? You think it best?"
"Be quiet! And yeah, I do think it's a good idea to keep away from the knowledge. It'd just fuck up their life, and they really don't need that. I mean, they work for the FBI, how much more screwed can you get?"
Cas frowns. "How is working for the FBI going to make you… 'Screwed'?"
"Well they already deal with death danger and more danger every day. Even those who stay here and do the research are still affected by what they see. It's not pretty Cas, it never has been and it never will be. And we, we have it worse than most. I mean, in what other unit would you see the inside out of a chupacabra's victim, or nearly get eaten every third week on the job?"
"I do believe that this is the best place for that, yes."
Dean looks at the angel, not realising how literally he takes everything. "Whatever. Let's just go. And no flying off!"
Cas frowns slightly but he follows Dean out the doors of the gym instead of disappearing. Dean leads them to the photo developing lab, where he hooks up his phone and chooses the picture of Cas that he had taken yesterday. Five minutes later it was printed, and Dean, who had already gone and gotten all of Cas's credentials to be made into a real badge, slides the photo inside, and looks it over, making sure that there was nothing wrong.
"There you go. Your sparkly brand new badge. Now all you need is a phone." Dean opens Cas's trench coat and slips it into one of the inside pockets, making sure that the angel would be able to easily get it out. Cas was staring at Dean, and Dean was suddenly very aware of how close he was to the angel. "All done. You can officially call yourself one of us."
"I do not understand how a… 'badge' could make me human Dean, but I do appreciate the gesture."
Dean raises his eyebrows and resists the urge to say something snarky. Cas probably wouldn't understand it anyway.
"I have to go and talk to Rufus, you coming?" Dean asks, not sure why, even as the words are coming out of his mouth.
"I have no other place to currently occupy."
Dean narrows an eye at the dark haired man but decides that he's not up for an 'educating the angel' session.
Knocking on Rufus's door, Dean can feel Castiel's presence behind him, even as the angel makes no sound whatsoever, a chill running down the back of his neck, the knowledge of unknown eyes watching him, a shiver of knowing that Dean couldn't describe.
"What is it Winchester?" The older man asks, eyes flicking from Dean to Cas and back again.
"Rufus, since there's no case going on, I was wondering if I could go down to Bobby's for a bit, renew my book collection, take Jo to see Ellen before she takes her course?" Rufus never likes when you beat around the bush with asking him anything, so Dean gets straight to the point.
Rufus's eyes flick to Castiel again before settling on Dean. "And do you feel that this would help with your… other problems?"
He's talking about the dreams of course, and Dean takes a moment to curse Charlie creatively. "Yeah, I guess."
Rufus purses his mouth. "I can't let you go yet boy. We've just started the AHI, and you're one of our main players. You can go the weekend after next, alright?"
"Robbing Jo of her chance to see her mum before her course. And Sam wanted to come down next weekend."
Rufus scowls at him, but Dean knows that he has a soft spot for the older intern. "Jo can make her own way to Nebraska in the next week. I can't have both of you out at the same time. As soon as she gets back you can go. And Sam will just have to reschedule."
Dean's had worse compromises, so he nods and leaves, going to find Jo to tell her that she could go and visit Ellen, making a mental note to call Sam.
Finding Jo on his way back up to the office, Dean smiles. "Are you ready to go?"
Jo looks up at him. "I don't know if I can do this Dean. Four weeks. Four weeks, and that's all I have to prepare before I go. I'm freaking out here."
"Hey. You're going to do fine. Just don't stress too much, pace yourself so you don't burn yourself out before the final test, and make some friends. You'll have fun, don't worry." Jo just shakes her head.
"I think I'm going to explode from worry," she confides. "What will I do about the teachers? The other students?"
"Don't worry about the teachers, they're all professions who know the shit that they're teaching, and they're good at teaching it okay? And if a student's giving you trouble, just pull out your shotgun and threaten to fire off a few rounds."
Jo smiles. "Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm sure I'll be fine."
"That's the spirit! But remember, until you come back, you're technically still our intern, and right now, I need you to go and get me some coffee, because I slept less than three hours last night and I feel like I'm about to fall asleep standing up. And I talked to Rufus, and he said that you can leave anytime to go and visit the Roadhouse, as long as you're back before your course starts." Jo grins.
"Thanks Dean, I owe ya one." Jo sighs, remembering that she still needs to go and grab the coffee. She snatches up the keys to her bike, so she can head down and get them the best coffee in all of Phoenix from his one small coffee shop that's run down and slightly drab, but still produces some of the best stuff Dean's ever tasted.
Dean's about to sit down at his desk when he hears what he's been longing for the past three days, something that he really needs right about now, what with the stress and the angels and the dreams, and basically it's been all over sucky. But Charlie comes to the rescue with her weapons of computers and keyboards, finding information that no one else would be able to pick up on in time.
"Dean, I think I've found a hunt for you."
Dean feels a smile curl at the corners of his mouth.