.

IV.

The rules have changed today
I have no place to stay
I'm thinking about the subway

Oh my Lord, I have to roam
I have no home

"So, what's your name?"

Castiel was sitting in Dean's temporary car. He was feeling dizzy and a bit sweaty and his heart was pounding fiercely in his chest. He was nervous. He hadn't expected that his reaction to seeing Dean, or rather, to Dean seeing him, would be like this. But as soon as his human had first laid eyes on him, he had panicked, suddenly feeling incredibly insecure.

"My name is Castiel," he answered Dean's question. He stole a glance at Dean's face. He was looking at the road, his expression relaxed. Somehow, he looked better than the days and weeks before Castiel's fall.

Dean's eyebrows rose as he kept his eyes fixed on the road in front of him.

"Right. Any last names?"

Castiel froze. He did not have a last name; no angel did. But having last names was a custom on Earth, so he should think of one in order to fit in. To any other person, he would have said his last name was 'Winchester', as it was the first surname that popped up in his mind. But this was Dean; he surely couldn't use his surname. So he desperately tried to think of any other surname he had ever heard.

"Novak," he then blurted. It was the name of a boy with whom Dean had attended pre-school, Jimmy Novak. They had played together once or twice, but never developed a memorable friendship.

Dean smirked slightly.

"Castiel Novak, huh? Almost sounds like you're some kind of biblical Russian or something."

Castiel stared at Dean, slightly confused. He was sure Dean had just made a joke, but he didn't quite understand it. Dean took his eyes from the road for a second to look back at Castiel, his smirk disappearing.

"Oh, uh, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that Castiel sounds like it's been picked from a random page of the Old Testament, and Novak has this Russian vibe to it, ya know?" His eyes flicked back to Castiel for another second. "Oh, crap. That probably didn't sound any better."

This time, Castiel did smile a bit as he understood what Dean had been trying to say.

"It's all right, I'm not offended. As for my first name, I do agree with you. Although Castiel hasn't been included in either the Old or the New Testament, the name stems from that era. Novak is not Russian, however. Even though the name is of Slavonic origin, it mainly derives from Eastern European countries such as Poland."

Dean hummed.

"Cool. So you're a biblical Pole, then." Before Castiel could react, Dean turned back to him and flashed him a grin. "Just kidding, man. You sure know a lot though. Are you a historian?"

Castiel turned his head away to look out the window. He hoped that by avoiding Dean's glance, he could also avoid questions he couldn't answer.

"No. I'm not."

Luckily for Castiel, Dean had reached the diner he had been talking about and was too busy parking the car to dwell on it.

When they entered the restaurant, Castiel was overwhelmed by delicious smells that made his stomach growl even louder. He finally understood that the empty, slightly hurting sensation in his belly must mean that his vessel was hungry. Castiel saw Dean turn his head back to him and grin at the sound.

They sat down at a table in a corner. Castiel took Dean's example and grabbed a menu, opening it on the first page. He was slightly distracted when he saw a few images of fluffy animals and rainbows.
"Uh, you might want to take a look at the next page," Dean suddenly told him with a slight smirk. "I'm not saying you can't eat off the kid's menu, but, well, you did sound kinda hungry not too long ago."

"Oh." Castiel felt his face become slightly hot in embarrassment and quickly turned the page. "I did not notice."

Dean chuckled. "Don't worry. Shit happens when a man's in need of food."

Castiel decided not to respond except for a small nod, and examined the dishes that were listed in the menu. He couldn't help but wonder why there were so many. He was about to ask Dean for help because he didn't recognize half of the words he saw, when one dish in particular caught his attention. He neatly closed the menu and shoved it to the edge of the table. Dean did the same.

"So, whatcha gonna eat?" Dean asked.

"I'd like to try a cheeseburger," Castiel answered with a small smile. He knew Dean loved cheeseburgers, and he had always wondered what they tasted like. Today was the perfect day to find out.

"Huh, good choice! Same here, by the way. This place makes the best cheeseburgers around." Dean turned to the hallway and waved to a waitress.

"What can I get for you?" she asked nicely when she arrived at the table, holding a note block and a pen.

"Two cheeseburgers, one coke, and… Cas, what do you want to drink?"

Castiel looked at the waitress, wondering if Dean knew her. He knew for sure that he hadn't seen her before. But then, why did Dean know her name, and why was he asking her if she'd like to have a drink?

"Cas?"

Castiel looked at Dean, who was looking at him questioningly, and then back at the waitress, who was also looking at him questioningly. Suddenly, the realization that he must be Cas dawned on him.

Cas. Castiel. He understood.

"I… eh," he stammered, looking at Dean as if he was somehow expecting the answer to be written on his forehead.

"Hey, don't feel guilty because I'm paying or something," Dean said gently. "Pick whatever you want. The beer here is good, by the way."

"All right," Castiel said hesitantly, turning back to the waitress. "In that case, I'd like to have a beer, please."

"Sure," the waitress said, looking a bit strangely at Castiel. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

The girl walked away; a short silence followed.

Castiel realized that if he wanted to prevent any personal questions to be directed at him, he should start a conversation. But he didn't know how. The only conversations he had had in his life as an angel were short, and strictly business. Humans, on the other hand, liked to talk about small things. Castiel couldn't think of anything small to talk about, however. But he did want to know one thing.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" he asked, intently looking at him.

Dean smiled, opened his mouth to answer but then closed it again, frowning slightly. Then his face brightened again and he chuckled.

"Did I say something wrong?" Castiel asked, not understanding why he had just witnessed such a wide range of emotions provoked by one simple question.

"Nah. It's just weird, because you said my name and I couldn't even remember introducing myself. But then I realized I probably told you yesterday." He smiled awkwardly and shrugged.

Castiel couldn't believe he had been so foolish as to almost forget that Dean did not know him. He looked at the table, again avoiding Dean's eyes. "Yes, you did," he lied.

They were both silent for a moment. Then, Dean chuckled mischievously, and said with a wink, "Too bad, I'd have liked to have been the mysterious stranger for some longer."

Castiel just stared at him, his head slightly tilted in mild confusion. He recognized Dean's behaviour. This was the kind of comportment he'd show whenever he wanted to impress someone he was interested in; usually women, occasionally men. Lately, no one. He swallowed, and returned his gaze to the table. He wished he could think of a way to return the gesture with a witty remark, but his mind remained painfully blank.

Dean cleared his throat, possibly feeling rather awkward at Castiel's response, or rather - lack thereof. Castiel glanced up again to see that his mouth was opened to start an apology, but at that moment the waitress returned with their drinks.

"Thanks," Dean said, giving her a quick smile.

Castiel merely nodded in acknowledgement when he received his beer. He took the bottle and aimlessly fiddled with it. Dean and his brother Sam seemed to enjoy beer quite a bit, but Castiel soon realized he didn't even like the smell of it. He took a cautious swig and tried his best not to pull a face. It was so bitter. Why would anyone want to drink this by means of enjoyment?

"Uh, anyway, you asked me how I was doing," Dean's voice sounded from the other side of the table. Castiel put down his drink and looked back at his human, waiting for him to continue. "And I'm doing fine. I know, it sounds weird coming from a man who, uh, ya know, but I really am. So no need to worry for you – you won't have to save me again anytime soon." Dean smiled reassuringly; Castiel recognized this smile to be one of his convincing, but definitely fake ones.

"Dean," Castiel said gently. "Stop lying. I understand that you feel the urge to lie to me, but at least try to stop lying to yourself. Yesterday was the horrible example of what happens if you do so for too long."

For a moment, Dean just looked broken. Then his faced changed slightly.
"You don't even know me," he said defensively.

"I know enough," Castiel said, now studying the beer bottle. "I know about your mother and father, your fiancé and your brother.

"Oh," Dean said slightly sheepishly. "I guess I talk a bit too much when drunk."

"Don't say that," Castiel said with a soft smile. "It's good for a human to talk about what's on their mind."

"Oh, so you're a historian and a psychologist," Dean muttered, casually trying to redirect the conversation.

Castiel shook his head. "No, I'm not, but we weren't talking about me. You should talk. It doesn't have to be to me, since you barely know me. But please, Dean, try and talk to your brother."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, right. I ain't gonna bother Sammy."

Even though Castiel knew the answer to the question, he asked, "Why not?"

Dean took his time to take a swig from his coke, but eventually answered quietly, "He's so happy. I don't want to screw it up for him."

Castiel sighed softly. "He's your brother, Dean. I'm sure the only thing he wants is the same for what do you think would have happened if you had succeeded yesterday?"

"Forget it," Dean suddenly snapped. The harsh sound of his voice hurt Castiel, almost physically. He grabbed his beer somewhat tighter and soon took another swig. It still tasted awfully bitter.

"I apologize," Castiel then said quietly. "I did not mean to upset you. All I want to do is help."

"Then go help someone else," Dean replied gruffly.

That hurt Castiel even more. A wave of emotions flooded through him, making him feel even worse than how he'd felt the moment right after his fall.

"I… I think, I should go then," Castiel said, a bit startled at how broken his voice sounded. He got up from his chair but before he could utter anything else, he was interrupted by Dean's sharp voice.

"No! Cas, wait. I… I didn't mean it like that," Dean said, looking quite upset himself. Castiel slowly sat down again, trying to contain his emotions. "I… You're right. I'm not fine. I just suck at talking about it."

Castiel silently nodded.

"I'm trying, though," Dean continued, now being the one avoiding the other's eyes. "I went to the bar today, to say sorry, ya know, because I fucked up. Bad. And well, there was this girl who asked for my story, and 'cause, well, I owed her, I told her everything that happened. I know it sounds stupid and shit, but it's just… I usually never…" His voice faltered.

He hadn't been at Dean's side for one day, and this was the development he had missed. Castiel was positively surprised.

"That's really good, Dean," Castiel said gently. Dean seemed to perk up a bit at the compliment.

Their conversation was paused as their food arrived. Castiel looked slightly warily at his cheeseburger, wondering how it was even humanly possible to eat a thing this size without making a fool of yourself.

It was humanly possible, though, he concluded as he saw Dean taking a huge bite and heard him groan. "They're so fucking good," Castiel heard him say with a muffled voice.

Castiel decided to find out for himself, so he took the burger and cautiously brought it towards his mouth. At least it smelled good. Then, he took a bite and his taste buds exploded. He couldn't hold back a soft moan as he tasted how extremely delicious it was.

"Told ya they were good!"

Castiel just hummed in reply and then fully focused on devouring the cheeseburger. Good was an understatement.

He finished his burger soon after Dean and sighed contentedly. His hunger had finally been stilled, but he still felt that his throat was slightly aching. That must be thirst, then. He took another swig from his beer, trying to get rid of it.

"So, you liked it?" Dean asked; he looked better again, his smile was genuine.

"Yes! The cheeseburger was amazing. Thank you." Castiel smiled back at Dean. Somehow, his head began feeling a tad light. It must be the aftermath of dinner, he thought, and put the bottle of beer to his mouth once more. He was starting to appreciate the beverage a bit more.

Dean chuckled. "No problem, man." His eyes then seemed to focus on a lower point of Castiel's face, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, pointed to a corner of his own mouth.

"You got some sauce there," Dean said. Castiel stared at him and wondered how he had managed to get sauce on Dean's face. He couldn't even see it, anyway.

Dean stayed like this for a moment, then let his hand drop.

"Wait, I've got it," he said, and took a napkin. Then, suddenly, he leaned over the table towards Castiel, and stretched out his arm. He was way too close. Castiel panicked slightly and leaned away, trying to avoid Dean's hand, which just wavered there for a moment longer and then quickly retreated.

"Sorry," Dean muttered, his face gradually becoming red. Castiel just drank some more from his beer; he kept drinking until he noticed that he had finished his bottle.

Dean was still looking quite uncomfortable. Castiel giggled.

"What?" Dean asked defensively.

"Your expression," Castiel explained with a broad smile. "It's quite hilarious."

"I'm glad you think so," Dean grumbled.

Castiel hummed and tried to take another swig but then remembered that he had just finished his beer. Dean raised his eyebrows at the other's failed attempt.

"You know what I think?" Dean asked rhetorically. Castiel tilted his head, awaiting the answer. Dean smirked.

"That you're a fucking lightweight."

After Dean had paid for their meal, Castiel followed him outside. It had gotten completely dark in the time they'd spent in the diner. Castiel shivered, and pulled his coat a bit closer around his body.

"Are you by car?" Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head.

"I can give you a ride, if ya want."

"No," Castiel said a bit too quickly. "I'll walk."

"So, you live close then?"

Castiel was silent for a short moment.
"Yes." He felt his face gradually heating up and looked away, hating to lie towards anyone and especially to Dean.

"And, uh, where exactly? I mean, if it isn't too far away, I can just drop you off. Like, no trouble at all."

"I… I forgot the name of my street. I just moved in." It was the best excuse Castiel could think of at the moment. "But I will be able to find it on my own, thank you."

"Oh. Okay." Dean hesitantly moved a bit more towards his car. "I can show you around sometime, though? 'Cause you're new in town?"

"That would be amazing," Castiel answered, a small smile growing on his face at the thought of being able to spend more time with his human now he knew he existed.

"Awesome! If you give me your number, I'll text you about a date, okay?"

Again, Castiel was quiet. Dean frowned slightly.

"Uh, okay, no date, that sounded wrong, sorry."

"It's not that," Castiel said quickly. "It's just that I don't have a telephone."

"Right…" Dean said, raising one eyebrow. "That leaves us one option, then. I'll have to drop you off so I can pick you up another time to show you around. Sounds like a plan to me!"

"I suppose so," Castiel said resignedly.

Dean chuckled. "C'mon, don't look like I just kicked your puppy. I'm just giving you a lift home! And you did a hell of a lot more for me, remember? You're practically my hero, saving my life and stuff."

Despite of Castiel's feelings of guilt, he felt his lips twitch upwards. Dean just wanted to reciprocate what Castiel had done for him; perhaps he should just let Dean have his way.

"All right," Castiel agreed eventually.

"Get in the car then," Dean said, and followed his own advice.

Castiel opened the door of the car, sat down next to Dean and fastened his seatbelt as Dean drove away.

"So, where do I go?" Dean asked.

"You may just follow the road for now."

"Sure thing."

A short while passed in comfortable silence before Castiel started to recognize the neighbourhood. He was a few blocks away from the place where Dean lived.

"You should go left next," Castiel instructed Dean, trying to steer him away a bit more from Dean's place. Dean just nodded and obeyed.

Castiel made Dean turn right and then left again; they passed a small park and after another turn to the right, Castiel decided they were far enough.

"This is it," Castiel said.

"Where?"
"At the next street light."
Dean pulled over.

"So, when can I drop by again?"

Castiel thought for a second. He didn't quite have anything else to do, really.

"Tomorrow at the same time we met today, perhaps?"

Dean seemed to frown slightly. "Hmm, not sure if I can make that. Maybe the day after tomorrow, same time?"

"That would be great."

"'Kay, awesome! See ya then, Cas."

"Goodbye, Dean."

Castiel got out of the car and slowly walked towards the house that he was pretending was his own. He turned around and saw Dean drive away, flashing his lights a few times. Castiel smiled.

At the same moment, the light on the front porch of the house went on and an angry looking old man stepped outside.

"Whatcha doin' on my property!" he shouted rather than asked.

"I beg your pardon," Castiel stammered and stumbled backwards.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck yer pardon, just get off my goddamn property," he heard the old man grumble before he slammed the door shut.

Castiel swallowed and quickly walked away.

He aimlessly followed the road until he remembered the park he had seen earlier. He had already decided that he liked the green, quiet environment that parks offered, so he made his way back to the entrance. Once he entered the park, he followed the path until he found a wooden bench, surrounded by a few trees that had already shed their leaves. He sat down with a sigh, only now realizing how worn out his body was by today's impressions and activities. Even though his hands, his nose and his ears hurt and his entire body was shaking from the cold, his eyes soon closed and Castiel fell into a deep sleep.

Hey guys! Thank you so much for following me and fav'ing this story! It's a great motivation to see that there are people out there who actually enjoy my writing. As for the reviewers: mailaine, you're too kind! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. Yay for (even more) awkward Cas! And mulanlovesdestiel, wow, I love your username! The person who made that up must be an intellectual genius mastermind. Talk to me when you finish reading this chapter.
Also – this is for anyone who actually reads my A/N's – …tell me if you have any ideas for this story! Even though I have loooots of ideas myself and I have already written a few more chapters, I'd love to include some of your ideas. Let's make this a nice, ridiculously long story. And ideas for lyrics are also very, very much appreciated.
The next chapter will have the song 'Back in Black' by AC/DC as prologue.