When Dean woke up, he was in the middle of the woods. Sun was shining irritatingly brightly through the branches above him, and he didn't really remember how he got there.
Oh... he thought. All the memories came flooding back. He had had a pretty severe panic attack last night, and left to get some air.
Wait… was it really just to get some air?
The more that Dean thought about it, the more of what he did seemed like running away. Running away from what?
Dean looked back in the direction of the brothel. Or what he thought was the direction of the brothel. He groaned as he sat up, his head aching. He thought for a moment. Why the hell was he here?
Castiel.
The name brought back all those feelings, what he had felt last night, that made him question returning to the Poison Apple. He didn't want to go back. He wanted to help Cas.
He couldn't just leave him to die in a tower!
Hey, hey. Hold up. Why should he care, anyway? Castiel was just a guy who came in a couple times for a change of pace in his own life, and he got it. It wasn't Dean's fault he was locked up for it!
Plus, thinking back to where the news article said that tower was, he assumed it would take days of trekking across vast nothingness to get there. He nervously glanced back again, thinking of just how easy it would be to go back to his fairly safe life.
It's not my problem. I'm not obligated to save his ass, Dean thought bitterly.
But then… who was? Who would?
Dean stood there, in the middle of a forest, contemplating this predicament. Dammit, he thought, I'm not actually going to try and rescue this guy, am I?
…Am I?!
He took a deep breath, weighing things. He couldn't deny it- Cas had made him feel loved. Wanted. He had finally found that, when he never thought he would again. As much as he hated to admit it, Prince Castiel, the wronged royalty of Far Far Away, could be his one and only key to a happily ever after.
He might not come back; if he went on this thing, he could get eaten by a damn something-or-other along the way, or get caught in some ogre's torture trap…
Then he thought of something- if Prince Castiel was brave enough to risk everything for an adventure like those two blissful nights, Dean should be brave enough to go after what he knew he wanted too.
He put his hands on his hips, squinting into the sun, and after a second, kicked a patch of grass in a sudden rage of violence. "Son of a BITCH!" he called at the birds above him, who flew away in response.
Then he set off walking away from everything he had ever known… and if his conscience was a person, Dean would have murdered him in cold blood right then.
The young man on the quest decided first to stop through the village of Far Far Away to find a map. He really needed one of those.
Woah.
He was really out of his element here, he had to admit. Uppity people and creatures walked around him, not a villain in sight or dirty word to be heard. But he guessed that was a good thing, not running into anyone he knows. That would be... interesting, to say the least, if he did.
Oookay, Dean thought, nervously clucking his tongue as he looked around, nearest store for a map... wheeere would that be...?
"Hey there," Dean said to three mice with sunglasses on, "Do you know the way to the nearest shop that has travelling supplies?"
One of the mice pointed its cane north. "Oh yes, my lad, that way-" "No, no, it'sthat way, good fellow," the second one said, pointing south, but the third contradicted both by insisting, "No, it's that way, my boy!" while pointing west.
Dean realized his mistake. He had asked the Three Blind Mice for directions. "Right," he said, nodding, "Thanks for the, uh, pointers, you guys." "No problem!" "Any day." "You're so very welcome, sir!"
Dean sighed, and moved on, trying to find someone else who was less... visually impaired.
"Excuse me?" he asked another passer-by, flashing a charming smile for good measure at the young lady with the short black hair and pale, almost white skin, "Do you know where I can find a map of the kingdom?"
The girl, who happened to be Snow White, stopped. "Oh! Right that way," she smiled. Dean smiled quickly and politely back. "Thanks."
Just then, seven angry little men came marching up to them. "Are you trying to steal our housemate?" one asked, adjusting his spectacles. "Back off, grabby hands!" one gruff, grumpy looking one said, and Dean recognized that last one from the brothel.
"Uh, I wasn't…" "Get lost, princess lips!" they told him, and he watched them walk away. Dean frowned, touching his lips self-consciously. Snow White made a call me motion as they left, and Dean winced.
"Right," he smiled back, "Thanks so much." Gag me, he thought. He followed where she had pointed to, and came to a shop that was full of trinkets and such.
"Howdy there!" A guy, who reminded him disturbingly of Robin Hood, said, bouncing out, "I'm Peter Pan! Looking for an adventure, friend?!" Dean chuckled. "To be honest, pal, one found me. You got any maps?"
"Oh, of course, yes, yes, yes. Right this way, if you please!" Dean followed him, looking around the shop made for collectors and travelers and people like that, and they stopped at a rack of scrolls. "Here ya go!" he said cheerily, and Dean thanked him, grabbing some snacks as well before handing over a few coins.
Alright, he thought, onward to... He placed a roughened finger on the map, the Enchanted Forest. Great. That meant swamps- and ogres.
He sighed. If he saw one more bright smile or heard one more overly-cordial greeting uttered within a five-mile of him radius today, he would throw up. He followed the map, and got the hell out of dodge.
Cas sat in the tower. Night was descending upon the area, and he felt very lonely. He wished he had a cat or something, anything he could potentially talk to.
Dragon's Keep got very hot at night time, for there was no breeze in the dark hours to help expel the steam rising from the surrounding mote of molten lava.
Castiel positively hated Zachariah and Naomi for doing this to him- so what if he wanted to try something new? No harm had really come of it, in hindsight.
Frankly, a lot of good had come of it, actually: Dean.
Cas squeezed his eyes shut, but he absolutely refused to cry. He wouldn't let his parents get the satisfaction of wrenching tears out of him, even if they would never know. He wasn't ready to cry just yet.
He face planted in his pillow in frustration. Now he was locked in this stupid tower, for god knows how long, and he had never realized it before because he'd never been in the position to, but he was scared of heights this high up!
He stared in forlorn silence out the window of the circular room, feeling his wretched wings return after two nights of absence. He would never be saved. He could kiss his life goodbye.