Simple Pleasures ~ Chapter 4

Sleep butterfly-landed on Dean throughout the night, hesitant and fleeting, flying off for good when his alarm clock shouted at him to wake up. He did so just long enough to slam his hand on the snooze button. At quarter till eight he realized he'd gotten the snooze button stuck, prompting him to skip showering, breakfast, and his coat in favor of running out the door. He threw himself in the Impala with the mantra "shit shit shit shit," throttling through west Lawrence until he arrived at Winchester Auto-Repair, which he discovered he'd never locked up the night before. Because an ambulance was shoved off the highway. And a woman thing punched an old guy so hard his soul popped out.

Plus the Obolus Café was a way station, whatever that meant.

"I was… a late night," Dean said to himself, staring at the front of the shop. "Nothing psycho happened, just… got drunk and… had an acid trip…"

Clearly his imagination hadn't made it with him out the door that morning. Dean stepped out of his baby, trying to numb his thoughts. The attempt left him acutely aware of the air's dry, icy sting and the scratchy crunch of gravel under his shoes. He walked into the front door before walking through it. He stood quietly on the welcome mat, pushing his thoughts down, as the shop's warm air spider-walked up his jeans and jumper sleeves. He itched at the creep and he walked around the main counter where he found the answering machine's message light blinking. Dean pressed the message button and leaned back against the wall.

"This is Winchester Auto-Repair," Mrs. Winchester's voice said without a hint of cancer. "And thanks for your call. We're open 6:30 till 11:30 pm Monday through Saturday. If your call's urgent, you'd best be calling 911. If it's not real urgent but still kinda urgent, then call John on his Cell, he always has that thing on."

That last little bit never failed to make Dean cringe.

A beep and then "Dean!" Bobby's voice rang through the machine. "Where are ya boy? I've called four times now and, hey, I know I said you need to get out more but if you're takin' a morning off at least tell me! There's-"

Dean picked up the phone and dialed the Yard's number. After two rings and a click he said, "Hey Bobby, it's me, sorry man, I, uh… I crushed my alarm clock."

"Hey, don't worry about it, you just gotta call me when that kinda thing happens."

"Mm…," Dean replied.

It was silent a moment. "Dean?"

"What?"

"…How much sleep you get?"

"I dunno, maybe… I dunno. Why?" Dean asked.

"'Cause you usually say 'Well I'm callin' now' after I get on ya for starting late. I found two new heaps in the yard this morning and no note. What happened last night?"

"Ah, nothin', you know just some…wrecks, you know,"

"Take the day off, son."

Dean frowned. "…Excuse me?"

He heard a sigh from the other side. "Take the day off."

"I'm fine."

"Ah, bull crap, Dean. You're straight up… well, things ain't been right for you since the year from hell, especially with wrecks – seriously Dean, one of them was an ambulance, I'd think that bring back some kinda bad memories. You're gonna take a day off to get your brain back in gear, and-"

"I'm fine, Bobby," Dean replied, vice-griping the phone.

"Dean, this ain't-"

"I'll see ya later."

"Boy, listen to me dammit!" but Dean put the phone down in the receiver. His land pushed down against it. Blood ran into Dean's ears and boiled there, tightening his lungs along the way. He felt a scene with every blink: A notebook's empty pages flapping in the wind, the bouquet of dry roses, the weight of that manila letter, the black hands on the old analog clock while he stared out the old house's garage at the empty driveway.

Dean jumped when the door opened. Bobby stalked in with his usual baseball cap, beard, and denim jacket, though the wild look in his eyes wasn't normal. He looked at Dean and said, "Boy, you look like hell. No, you look like hell anthropomorphized itself and pissed on you."

"How'd you-?" Dean shook his head. "Go back to the Yard, Bobby, I'm fi-"

"Oh don't give me that, Dean!" Bobby spat, but his shoulders sank a moment later. He shook his head with remorse. "You look… just like you did when it all ended."

"I said, I'm FINE."

"You're telling me that that ambulance didn't remind you of when your girlfriend died, or John or Mary, none of that?"

"No, but you sure are," Dean snapped. He glared for a moment until he realized Bobby was staring at Dean's hand, which was still pressing down against the phone, starting to crack the plastic casing. "Okay… so I'm not fine, but hey who is? I'm good to work."

"Please, like this you're liable to drop a car on yourself," Bobby said, walking over to the counter and flicking the "Open" sign off. "Then what am I supposed to tell the owners, that I gotta charge 'em extra for unexpected blood-splatter?"

"Funny."

"Dean, you're taking the day off, either by me pulling your stubborn ass out of here or by letting you stand there all day with no pay to show for it," Bobby said. Loss of day was one thing, loss of pay another.

"…And what am I supposed to do with a day off exactly?" Dean slurred, taking a step back from the phone.

"You tell me, you're the brother with all the hobbies," Bobby replied.

"Hunting and fishing don't make me a renaissance man."

"Then expand your horizons you half-archaeologist idgit," Bobby replied, moving towards the door as Dean followed. "Get in shotgun, I'm drivin' you home."

"Would you let it go Bobby? I dropped out, done deal, and I can drive my-," Dean was interrupted by the small rack of junk food and tacky postcards that jumped out in front of him. He grabbed the rack for a moment to keep it from falling over while Bobby gave him the stink eye.

"That means nothing." Dean said.

"Shotgun," Bobby repeated, walking out to the Levi.

Dean sighed, wiped his face with his hand, and turned off the rest of the lights before locking up and getting in Levi's passenger's seat, careful to avoid the unidentified metal wire sticking out of seat's bottom cushion. No amount of duct tape could make a prod from that thing less painful.

Dean watched the ice flows on the Kaw in silence as Bobby drove them south across the bridge, towards Dean's apartment off West 6th. They paused at a red light just across the river as a metallic rumble slid up along side them. There was no reason to think about the noise, or think period, until there was a tap on the driver's side. Dean looked over to see Bobby lowering his window to a woman with bushy black hair and a leather jacket.

"Hey Robocop," Meg said, smiling at Dean before cocking her head to Bobby. "Who's pops?"

"Leave us alone you psycho bitch," Dean shouted. "And you keep your hands away from him!"

"Dean, the hell-!?" Bobby said, but Dean was already fighting to undo his seat belt, only managing to jab his right butt cheek on the duct tape rod by the time Meg chimed in.

"Relax bad boy, papa bear's gotta pulse so nothing doing. I'm just here to tell you the intern would like to have a little chitchat with you."

Dean frowned. "The intern?"

"Cas," Meg replied.

"Look, I don't know you are lady," Bobby started. "But Cassie Robinson's been dead for three years, and-"

"Castiel," Meg shouted. "Castiel, the intern with the high kicks and pretty tea tricks at the ever endlessly curious Obolus Café would like to have a little sit down with ya, capeesh Robocop?"

"What the hell is going on?" Bobby whispered to Dean.

Meg smiled impishly at Dean. "Yeah, Dean, what the hell is going on?" She said. After a moment she laughed. "Cas owes me twenty bucks."

Dean glared at her until she elaborated. "Oh, he was so sure you would reach out to people to try to heal your poor little perception of reality that got run over and left on the side of the highway last night. Cute, really. But you're one of those macho guys who just won't talk about anything important, that's obvious. You think it makes you tough but it really-"

"Okay enough with the sass!" Dean shouted.

Bobby looked at him for a moment. "Girl's seems to know you spot on."

"Shut it Bobby," Dean said, turning back to Meg. "What does he want to talk about? And give me a fucking straight answer."

"Hey fighting couple, the light's green," Bobby said.

"Beats me, but he's pretty insistent on it. Actually, I can't leave you guys until you agree to go talk."

"Hey Ricky and Lucy, I gotta green light, I gotta go," Bobby said as cars started honking behind him.

"Oh, no you don't. I can make sure of that, can't I Dean?" Meg said. The playfulness of her smile evaporated as her hand gripped the Levi's hood.

The car horns brought Dean back to the flapping notebook, made his jaw clench. "Fine! Fine, I'll go talk to him. Bobby, turn left on 6th, go down New Hampshire past the Library, then pull over on the right."

"Good boy," Meg said, stepping away from the window and jumping back on her bike. She shot off towards the Café just as Levi started moving. Bobby rolled up his window and pulled down 6th towards New Hampshire before asking, "Mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Dean said.

"Have some faith in me, Dean, I've known the world some too, remember."

Dean crossed his arms and stared down the street for a few moments. "Not like this you haven't."

"Try me."

Dean kept quiet until they reached the Public Library. "That crazy woman's named Meg. She shoved the ambulance off the highway last night like it was the wimpy kid on a pick up football team. Then she punched an old fat guy in the face, but not, grabbed his soul and took it to a Way Station, whatever the hell that means."

Bobby was quiet for a moment. "Yep, haven't had that one."

"You don't believe me at all, right?"

"Not one bit," Bobby sniffed. Dean nodded.

After another block Bobby parked Levi, across the street from the Obolus Café's wordless street sign. Dean cringed as a mother and daughter hurried inside the building, laughing at something unknown. Were either of them human? Were either alive? If so, would they before they left? Dean swallowed hard as he led the way across the street, frowning when he saw a familiar, redheaded woman with large earphones and a computer case walking into the café.

Bobby and Dean stepped inside, wherein Dean realized he'd been shivering. No coat, no warmth. The mother and daughter were sitting at a nearby table and talking fast under their happy breath while Red-Head stood at the front counter. She was holding her iPhone up for Castiel to peer at; he grinned and nodded slowly in affirmation of her song choice.

"The usual?" He asked. She nodded, and Castiel vanished behind the main counter. Red-Head put down some cash on the counter, dropped an extra bill in the tip jar, and met Castiel at the end of the counter, grabbing her drink with a smile. She turned around to see Dean staring at her. She visibly gulped, turned her eyes downward, and scurried over to the table farthest from the door, setting up her computer and seat with her back to the front.

"Nice place," Bobby said.

"Yeah well, don't get too comfortable, we're not staying long." Dean muttered under his breath, taking a few steps forward toward the front counter.

"That's what you think Robocop," Meg said, making both men jump.

"Jesus, could you at least warn people when you go all ninja?" Dean said.

"But that wouldn't be fun," Meg replied. She grabbed hold of Bobby's arm. "C'mere pop's, you're talking to me while you're buddy has his talk with Mr. Free Labor over there."

Bobby stared at Dean wide-eyed as Meg led him away towards one of the tables.

"If you hurt him," Dean hissed.

"Cool your jets Dean," Meg said. " I told you before, he's got a pulse, so he's not in my reign. You have a nice chat."

Bobby stumbled away wide-eyed as Meg pushed him on towards one of the middle tables. Dean pressed his lips together as his heart hammered wildly in his chest – or head, hard to tell. Footsteps to his left made him look back to the front counter, where Castiel was lowering the divider and approaching confidently but carefully.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said gravely. He studied Dean's face for a moment before looking away with a frown. "We should… sit down."

Psst! Hey, this is the author! Aloha, pehea oe? Since this chapter was pretty low on Destiel content I'm planning/hoping/praying I don't go insane trying to get another chapter up this weekend that will have much more of our favorite pair. I'll also be updating next Wednesday. May your week and weekend embody awesomeness!

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