You're not in my contacts list.- Castiel (10.23 My Brother's Keeper)
There was the thick coppery taste of blood in Dean's mouth from where he had bitten his cheek. He wanted to spit. He swallowed harshly, and sat fully down, ignoring the throbbing on the bruise on his face from the fight.
Hell had always been a bit of a touchy subject for him.
He ignored Sam talking with Castiel- more talking at him, actually- while he tried to figure out why Castiel had pulled that. He had to have known that would get Jason the furthest thing from their side. Dean wondered how long Jason had been dead for, before coming back.
He shook his head. It didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was that Dean was going to have to get in touch with them, and without Cas knowing. Cas would only make things worse.
He excused himself, and neither of the other occupants really noticed, and stepped outside. He sighed, and started to text.
From: Dean Winchester
To: Donna
Do you have Jason Todd's phone number?
To: Dean Winchester
From: Donna
Yeah.
From: Dean Winchester
To: Donna
Can you give it to me? I need to talk to him about Dick
Donna gave him the number.
Dean smiled.
-.-.-.-
Todd, Leave a message
"Hey, Jason, it's Dean Winchester. Call me back. I have the feeling that you and me are gonna get along better then we're supposed to."
Dean hung up after he left the message, placing the phone in his pocket. He dragged a hand through his hair, looking around the parking lot idly. Sam and Cas were still in the restaurant, and he could hear the faint roar of an engine several blocks away.
Someone had keyed his car again. Dean didn't need to guess who, and had been resigned to it when Cas had opened his mouth back in the of them had helpfully left a bottle of ink black nail polish on the hood of the car.
He went to pick it up. Devil's Cue. On the bottom, was a very tiny assholes. Dean snorted and put the nail polish in his pocket. He checked the tires and the interior of the car, relieved when he saw that Jason and Stephanie had only damaged the paint. It would be an easy fix then.
He paused. The hood of the car was popped.
He opened the hood.
He picked up a notecard from an otherwise undamaged engine. On it, was scrawled the same number Donna had given him.
As if that had been an omen, his phone went off.
He answered it.
"Winchester."
"Listen, if you're going to insist on being an unhelpful ass, then this arrangement is over before it even begins." Jason warned, not bothering with any sort of greeting.
"You know," Dean said mildly, shutting the hood, "I'm an older brother too."
A pause. "Dick's older than me." Jason sounded wary.
"Yeah, and Gabriel's a dick, we both know this." Dean replied, unbothered. "I didn't want to work with him in the first place. But, like a fly, he's still here today."
"No shit. " There was a very bitter chuckle, "You're after the rings, right?"
"Pestilence and Famine." Dean confirmed.
"I can get the sicky. You'll have to snag the other one. I'll give it to you if you can get the archasshole out of m- Dick."
"Can you get his old vessel's body if I text you what he used to look like?" Dean asks, looking back inside. Cas is looking pained. Sam is still talking. He highly doubts that Sam has noticed that he's left.
"Yes, well," Jason paused, "If it hasn't been cremated."
Dean drags a hand through his hair in relief. "Fantastic. Nice talking to you."
"Hey. Uh. Sorry about keying your car."
"It'd be nice if you stop going after my baby." He says amiably. Jason laughs and hangs up.
Dean saves the number and keeps his suspicions to himself.