Wanted no applause it's just another course
Made a meal outta me
And come back for more
Had to cool me down to take another round
Now I'm back in the ring to take another swing
Cause the walls were shaking the earth was quaking
My mind was aching
And we were making it
And you shook me all night long

- "You Shook Me All Night Long," AC/DC

"You're never driving my baby again." Dean pets a hand down the hood of his car, comforting a wounded animal, and glares at the terrible parking job Castiel gave her before descending upon the hotel days before. Castiel, for his part, drops the duffle bag into the back seat as he slides into the front passenger side without protest, and carefully resists rolling his eyes at his mate as he tilts his head back against the seat and breathes in the smell of warm leather and Dean. Dean clambers inside after him and starts the car up with its distinctive roar, and Castiel rolls his head to the side to look at Dean and answers finally.

"I like your car. But the turning radius is. . ."

Dean stops him, one finger raised warningly, a scowl on his features though Castiel can tell it's mostly affectation. "You criticize my car and you're walking to the Roadhouse. It's not her fault you're a shitty driver."

"I was distracted." Castiel's reminder is wry, but gets him no sympathy. He's alright with being a passenger, though. He could get used to riding with Dean this way, settled into the shotgun seat of his car. He has good experiences with this car already, picturing blue tarp-covered windows and heated kisses, or the sight of Dean flush cheeked with Heat and fingering himself on the back seat before Cas threw a coat over him, or. . .

Or now, with Dean drumming his hands on the steering wheel to an old tape of AC/DC, the sun on his face bringing the smattering of freckles across his cheeks into sharper relief, the windows rolled down, more relaxed than he ever seemed to be elsewhere. It's odd, but in their whirlwind relationship Castiel has never really seen Dean be Dean like this and while he would like to think he plays a part in that, he wonders if a large part of that isn't this car as well. The car was damaged and battered and carved with slurs against Dean when he first encountered it at the hospital, and then tucked away beneath tarp and hidden at Castiel's home. Dean sanded away the scars violently at Winchesters', and painted her anew after deciding to square off against his past and face it. Dean and his car have been on this journey together somehow, and now behind the wheel Castiel is getting to see a new side of Dean that their mess has kept from him until now. He likes it.

"Still creepy, Cas." Dean quips idly, smirk tugging at his lips and belying his words as he brings them into traffic, and Castiel has to remind himself to blink and look away, knowing he's already been caught staring. "We still gotta get you that neon sign, though. You've had plenty of time to recover and you still look a little. . ."

"Thunderstruck?" Castiel supplies in a deadpan over the ringing lyrics of the self-same song, winning a laugh from Dean that has Castiel trying not to smile too obviously at having been able to coax the sound from Dean. "Maybe a little." Maybe a lot. The world seems very different now, on the other side of these past few days. He's not sure he'll ever be capable of being discrete over how much Dean affects him. "Why are we going to the Roadhouse? Not that I have anything pressing to do otherwise, but. . ."

Dean shifts on the seat to dig his phone out of his pocket, and Castiel finds the motion entirely too fascinating, but catches the phone when it's tossed to him. "Check the messages. Jo called. Seems the assholes' lawyer has been busy since we disappeared. Pulled the Roadhouse crew in for depositions before the trial about the night before the fight at the hospital. Jo seems to think we need to check in with her and Ellen before we get blindsided."

Castiel frowns down at the phone in his hands, reality intruding unpleasantly on his happiness. "The trial."

"Yeah. That thing we gotta win so you don't end up bankrupt and in prison." Dean affirms, and for a moment his knuckles whiten in their grip on the wheel. Castiel sighs quietly, and slides the phone back to Dean without checking the messages, looking out the window instead.

"I remember." The silence has little chance to become maudlin, as the song changes and Dean snorts in sudden amusement and then holds a finger up to shut Castiel up long before he has the chance to recognize the tune or formulate a comment.

"Not a damn word, Cas."

Dean ends up singing snatches of "You Shook Me All Night Long" along with the car stereo despite his warning to Cas, and Castiel lets himself relax again. They cannot, no matter how much Castiel keeps wishing for it, entirely escape the real world. Every time Cas thinks they might for a while just be able to be, something dashes that rather naïve hope brutally. They need to learn how to live in the world as it is and reassume control of what they can in it, and Cas wants to build something for themselves rooted within it.

Dean by Castiel's side, comfortable in his own skin behind the wheel and ready to fight for their freedom seems an excellent place to begin.

xXx

There are three men in the Roadhouse, and Castiel feels the first twinge of territoriality over Dean the moment they walk in the bar and all three look up. Dean is his mate, and after days tangled together building on that bond, after three days of Dean's Heat playing on every biological imperative wired into their systems, he wants to wrap himself around Dean protectively until everyone here knows that. He gets an immediate look from Dean after walking in and a faintly exasperated reminder about personal space.

Castiel doesn't want personal space. But he reluctantly complies, letting Dean get two steps ahead of him before following in his footsteps. He's still close enough to reach Dean before anyone else in the room would have a chance. There's interest there: either these are Roadhouse regulars who saw the confrontation, word has gotten around, or Dean's myriad soaps and scents are less effective just after his Heat than he wants to admit.

Or maybe Castiel's over-protectiveness is making him slightly paranoid.

"Alright. I got an appointment to keep, Ricky, so pay up." Jo's been hustling the bar's clientele again, Dean notes with amusement as she flashes her newest victim that infectious Harvelle grin, bends low over the pool table one last time in with her tank top riding up to show the dimple of her back, and methodically clears the table before taking Ricky's hard-earned cash, tucking it into her bra strap. Dean knows that's 90% of the reason some people let themselves be hustled by the girl multiple times; to get her focused attention, one of her triumphant looks, watch her play the game and watch her walk away. Right to Dean this time.

Dean's pretty sure a few bad porno plots went through that dirty old man's head at seeing the pretty Beta blonde immediately grab on to the Omega's arm and haul him off. He's also pretty sure without looking that Cas is attempting to glare a hole through the guy now. "Pretty sure that's cheating, Jo. And didn't Ellen chew you out for sharking here?"

"You know she did, she chewed you out too for teaching me. Not my fault they don't tip for crap otherwise, and I got better at it than you." Dean scoffs. They're going to have that competition someday before she starts getting too cocky. "Anyway, you're just calling it cheating because if I weren't practically your sister by the time I hit puberty you'd have been all over me too." Dean fakes a look of consideration and nods, and Jo slaps him on the shoulder as she slides behind the bar, grabbing her apron and folding it over, tying it around her waist. "Mom's out getting pretzels and beer nuts. You get me instead, which is just as well, she's worried and you know what that means. Alright, you want the bad news?"

"Yeah, hit me." Dean reaches out to grab Castiel's arm and pull him down into the chair beside him at the bar so he stops the creepy staring thing. Jo, meanwhile, gets everyone at the bar taken care of for their drinks adeptly, blonde curls bouncing as she finishes back in front of Dean, passing them both a draft. Castiel frowns at his drink briefly, and at Dean's as well. It was lunchtime by checkout at the hotel, and they lingered until they had to leave, but he isn't quite comfortable yet with how much of their time they seem to have a drink in their hands.

"Alright. Their lawyer? He's scary smart, and he's slippery. Makes you start tripping over your own tongue kind of crap, because he tries to twist things all around. The deposition, they're like testimony for the trial, but preserved on paper so that he doesn't have to call on us if he doesn't want to. It was all about how we could only answer questions posed to us, just like we're in court. He was asking me about the night at the bar. Did the guy lay a hand on you first, did you attack him without physical provocation, all that." Dean frowns, folding his arms on the bar and narrowing his eyes at Jo as she catches her lip between her teeth. He's known the kid since she was just a half-pint Shirley Temple years off from needing even a training bra, and they've gotten into plenty of trouble together and individually; he knows her lying faces. He knows she's holding back.

"What else?"

"He asked about Cas being there, and got interested in him buying you drinks." Jo admits slowly, looking to Castiel as he turns his head to fully engage in the conversation, squinting critically. "I mean, I made it clear you two never even spoke to each other that night, but he kept phrasing things . . . weirdly. Like he was trying to make my answers fit a story he was telling. Mom seemed pretty ticked by how he was manipulating things too when she got out of the room with him, and now she's about 90% sure that the only testimony he's going to allow from us is right there on his paper."

Dean curses quietly, and Jo nods, shrugging helplessly. "Talked to Sam afterwards, but he was pulling a tightlipped Winchester act, wouldn't say much." Dean flicks her off as he picks up his beer, and Castiel gets the feeling this is a common complaint from the Harvelle women about the Winchester brothers. "Said to have you two call him once you weren't tied up. . ." Castiel can feel himself flush at the wording and Jo catches it, resting her chin on her fist and watching him in apparent fascination. "Geeze, I didn't mean it like that, but yeah. Sure. That too."

Dean is absolutely no help. He's smirking faintly now too, and it's obvious to Castiel that his head went right back to that first night between them too and Dean ensuring Castiel would never be able to hear that common phrase again without it being sexualized, even ignoring their myriad activities during his Heat. Nevertheless, he pulls them back on topic: Dean with a mission seems fairly focused, and he has made ensuring Castiel gets through this trial against them unscathed his mission. "Okay. What else you got, Jo?"

"Well. . ." Jo drags the word out and glances at her other patrons, engaged in their own conversations, before leaning over the counter towards Dean. "I got a little stir crazy. This is really worrying me and I really thought you ought to be able to get a listen to what you're up against. Which kind of brings us to our. . . well, mine and Ash's. . . questionable activity of the past couple days. I got Ash trying to get us a copy of the deposition recordings instead of just the papers, so you can hear this guy do the word-games thing. There's some kind of legal mumbo-jumbo about why you can't have a copy of what I said, and why I can't get you anything . . . "

"I'd assume confidentiality in part." Their quick looks of disdain at the word reaffirms to Castiel that this family is apparently not particularly adept at that concept, considering how quickly they had his personal records in front of them after meeting him. "Lawyers and doctors. There are strict laws and rules governing our actions. I believe if I requested it of Sam directly you would have more luck obtaining what he is legally permitted to release."

"Uh-huh. Well, don't tell Dr. Badass that." Both of Castiel's eyebrows rise sharply at the name. "Yo, Ash!" Jo's voice is carrying even over the jukebox music, and the conversation of the men at the bar, and no one but Castiel seems startled by that volume coming from Jo Harvelle's slender frame as she bustles across the bar, half-assing taking care of the early afternoon regulars to bang her fist against a door to the side of the bar. Cas, meanwhile, leans into Dean's shoulder and lowers his tone, lips close to Dean's ears and voice a suggestive rumble, spreading his hand over the dip of Dean's lower back.

"I assume no relation to Doctor Sexy?" He gets elbowed in the ribs for the teasing and a grumbled 'shut up,' but from what he can see Dean's ears are slightly pinked and Castiel takes great pleasure in having finally turned the tables in that, this strange growing vocabulary of accidental and deliberate innuendos. When Jo turns back to them, she sees something in Dean's face and smiles, picking up where she had been before summoning the strange looking man now opening a door off of the main bar. "Anyway, yeah, I sort of. . . suggested. . . to Ash that it might be cool if you could hear this guy for yourself, and he went to try and poke around. Come to find out, someone involved in this mess is like. . . really good at computers, works at your brother's office, and is actually keeping him out of anything remotely related to the case."

"Huh. I didn't think that was possible." Dean's brow rises, a mocking smirk on his lips as he turns to the man sidling up to him, bracketing Dean in between the stranger and Castiel. Cas stiffens at this unknown man's nearness as he settles onto the corner stool beside Dean like it was made for him. "Aren't you supposed to be the genius tech wizard here, dude?"

"I am still the Wiz. Whoever this chick is. . . she's good. Like. . . " He whistles low, between his teeth in admiration and runs a hand through his hair. . . hair that seems to drag on over his shoulder, a mullet direct from the 1980s that has Castiel staring in bewilderment. ". . . good."

Ash has somehow acquired a mug of beer between the strange room off of the bar and the stool, and looks absolutely nothing like Castiel would imagine a genius. He sounds faintly stoned, and the mullet is somehow the least of his strange appearance. The flannel shirt he's wearing has both sleeves chopped off entirely at the shoulder and down far enough to reveal several of his ribs, and is left open over a bare chest and a tacky necklace. His jeans are more ripped than whole, and his computer when he drops it onto the bar is a strange Frankenstein-like amalgam of technology. Between his bizarre appearance and complete lack of sexual interest in Dean, Castiel is at least not concerned any more, but he is morbidly fascinated by this strange addition to Dean's extended family.

"Ash is in love with her." Jo confides, grinning mischievously. "I think it's the first time anyone's ever kept him out of something he wants into, and they've been playing the hacker-geek version of footsie the past two days. He's totally getting his ass kicked at his own game by some girl calling herself 'The Queen of Moons.'"

"She's not 'kicking my ass.' She just doesn't think like people, you know?" Castiel doesn't even pretend to know what that means. Neither do Dean or Jo. "Look . . . people, like machines, they tend to think in definable patterns, you get me? It's about cracking the program, finding out the coding. She's complete chaos. Can't predict her."

There is no doubting by his tone that he finds this an admirable trait, rather than actually concerning. The entire situation, to him, is just an unexpected and entertaining challenge.

"So you're calling her potentially psychotic. You have never met her. Know nothing about her. She is recreationally thwarting you in your usual endeavors. And you're in love with her?" Castiel questions slowly, brows drawn together. Dean snorts at the complete confusion on his boyfriend's face and then slides his mug towards Cas the moment he goes to wash this baffling thought down with a pull of his drink and finds out that leaving beer unattended at the Roadhouse is a quick way to lose it to Ash. Jo smiles at the casual intimacy between Dean and Cas, turning away before Dean can catch her amusement at the continuing signs of a burgeoning romance. Seriously, this is better than most of the crap she has to watch at the Roadhouse.

"He's head over heels, sight-unseen. Completely obsessed with her brain." Jo confirms, making a vague effort to take care of the older patrons at the bar, highly amused at Ash's plight. "Alright, Ash. Castiel here thinks we should call it quits and let him call his lawyer and get the information from Sam the legit way. . ." Ash's disgruntled expression looks odd on his face, unpracticed, at the end to their game. "Yeah, well, you had your chance. You want to see if we can learn anything about your lady love or not?"

"Yeah, no. I'm not playing Geek-Love Connection for you. Just stop playing 'footsie' ask for her email address or whatever it is nerds use for pickup lines." Dean has his phone out already, rolling his eyes at Jo and Ash as his brother's phone starts ringing, pushing away from the bar and Jo's perpetual knowing looks at him and Cas. "Hey, Sammy. Yeah, we're good. Yeah, really. What've you got for. . .?"

Jo is leaning over the bar very much into Castiel's personal space, deceptively innocent doe eyes intent on him now that Dean has dismissed them to start getting information out of his brother, and suddenly Cas wants to follow Dean's footsteps even knowing it would annoy his mate. "So. You and Dean. How's that going?"

This is a dangerous question. All questions here are dangerous. Ellen bumps open the door into the bar with her shoulder, carrying large canisters of nuts and pretzels, and Castiel uses helping as an excuse to slide off of his stool and get away.

xXx

They slip out before the evening crowd begins at the Roadhouse, after Dean assures the Harvelles that Sam plans to get his own questions in to them as well during the Discovery portion, and they'll have their chance to be heard if needs be. Sam will be back within a week or so, tied up in California, but cautions them to be careful in the meantime. The subpoenas for Dean and Castiel's own testimony have already been filed, they'll be hearing from the opposition themselves soon.

Crowley doesn't want a trial. He wants everything documented, everything turned around. . . and then he wants them to make a deal. According to Sam, that's his speciality.

Dean frowns the entire drive back to Castiel's place, and Castiel watches the cars around them, deep in thought until Dean reaches out and turns off the radio, drawing his attention back. "Look, Cas. We're in this together, right?"

Castiel blinks, turning his eyes to Dean's profile and rumbling an affirmative, head canting questioningly.

"Okay. Good. Because I figure. . . any deal that asshole puts on the table, it all comes down to the fact that you can't take anything without basically admitting you were in the wrong. That'll fuck up your future, man. You'll be the guy that plea bargained out or paid off the assholes."

Sam seemed pretty sure he could get Dean out of this mess, use the pictures taken at the police department of his bruises, get it turned into self-defense . . . but for Cas, it's about five times more complex. Dean doesn't give a shit about the countersuit Sam filed against the assholes on his part; that's just lawyering, that's just turning around a lawsuit. But he's pretty damned worried about both the civil suit and criminal charges against Castiel.

They stick together or Cas sinks.

"I understand." Castiel assures him, and Dean eases them into park outside of Castiel's place, and is taken by the arm before he can slip out of the car, pulled towards Castiel on the seat. Cas has wanted to kiss him all afternoon, and now, this genuine concern. . .

He doesn't want sex right now. Not particularly. They've just had three solid days of sex, what he craves now is the domesticity they were just finding towards the end of it. He wants to bring Dean upstairs and curl up on the couch with him and watch him watch his shows. He wants to try and scrape together some sort of dinner out of whatever's in Cas's apartment together, and finish that shopping trip tomorrow. He wants to hear more about Dean; not just his heartbreaking history, but tales about Sam and about Jo and Ellen, the stories behind the family he's watching interact around him.

When they get upstairs, what they find instead is a broken lock and a ransacked apartment.