SIOUX EMPIRE CHILDREN'S LIBRARY - EVENING
Alone in the library's gloomy parking lot, Castiel sat gripping the wheel of his Brougham, looking shocked and nauseated. Dean had followed him out to the car but not fast enough to not get locked out.
"Roll the window down," Dean said, looking a bit like he was freezing his ass off. "Come on. You gonna tell me what the hell happened back there? What did you say to her?" But when Castiel had trouble making eye-contact, Dean figured it out. "You told her the dead husband thing?"
Castiel finally rolled the window down. "I did what you said - I got the signal and I went for it-."
"There's no signal for the dead husband thing!" Dean half whispered, half shouted.
Castiel stared at the steering wheel, distraught. "I can't go back there. I liked that job. Why did I let you talk me into this?"
Dean sighed. "So you blew your shot with Hot Mom and you're ready to go into witness protection? It's not the end of the world. I mean, the world's ending, but not 'cause you ate it back there. And hey - you didn't spontaneously combust, right? Could be worse."
"I've actually changed my mind about that," Castiel said gravely. "Combustion is looking like a viable Plan B."
While he was distracted, Dean reached into the car, unlocked the door and opened it. "Move over, I'm driving."
Castiel was annoyed at the idea of giving the wheel of his precious caddy over to anyone else, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to fight. He scooted over to the passenger side, and woe was him.
Dean got into the driver's seat and started the engine, rubbed his hands together to warm up. "Get some heat in here... What you do for fun?"
"Talk to Dani," Castiel said, being deliberately unhelpful.
"You know what? Maybe you need to take a break from this place. Gotten a little too real for you."
The implied insult of that seemed to snap Castiel out of his self-pity. Now he was pissed. "This is my world, Dean. You have yours, you made your choices there and you have to live with them. But what happens here is still real. This is my life."
"No, this isn't your life," Dean said, matching his tone, "and not because of some Time Crotch. You're an angel, okay? You're a warrior for God, not the guy who wipes snot off the Barney DVDs. You wash out here, so what? What does it mean?"
"It means I've spent three and half years failing on the lowest difficulty." Castiel sat back, huffy, frustrated. He was still feeling sorry for himself, but for good reason. This was just about the last straw. "People here can see it in me: this... inadequacy. They know there's something wrong. They think I'm just psychotic or simple. Most of them never speak to us, they'd never say it to our faces. But I have good hearing. You know what the grandmothers who come in for Story Time call me? 'Singer's slow boy'. It didn't get to me at first. Bobby was more bothered than I was..."
Dean needed a few seconds. He was a little torn: on the one hand, he felt like getting names and ripping the faces off little old ladies. On the other, now he felt like a heel. Bobby kept snapping at him for joking about Cas being weird, and this had to be why. He'd probably spent the last three years defending him from the whole damn town.
It took him a second to collect himself. "Okay." Dean wiped his mouth as sort of a nervous gesture and put his hands back on the wheel. "You know those biddies talking smack about you over their hardcover of 'The South Was Right' - how much you wanna bet they have shelves full of porcelain angels at home? You think these people don't like you? They don't know who the hell you are. If they did, they'd be stepping on each other's dentures to be the next in line to have you look 'em in the eye and tell 'em something crazy. So where do you go that you're not supposed to go and let's friggin' go there, 'cause I can't with this crap hole."
Castiel had a hard time responding. He'd forgotten what it was like getting a Dean-talk. He was equal parts confused, alienated, and deeply touched. He looked ahead, comforted. Smiling to himself. "The mall uptown," he said. "They have a coffee shop. I like to buy cappuccino and watch people enjoy the carousel."
Dean smiled, half creeped. He'd almost forgot angels liked to watch people. And coffee at the mall? Was that really the wildest thing to do in town? Nope, didn't matter. Cas was in a better mood. "Okay, then let's do this."