Fallen

Chapter Nine

Dean's P.O.V.

     The drive back to the motel is quiet, as usual. Our late-night victory left Sam bushed. He started dozing off in the passenger seat about 20 minutes ago. I decide to leave him be despite us only being five minutes from the motel.

When we finally reach the motel, I shut the car off and shake Sam's arm. "Sammy, wake up," I say.

He jolts up and looks around. "Huh, what?" He says. He rubs his eyes with the heals of his hands.

"We're back." I get out of the car and close the door. Sam copies my actions and follows me to our motel room door. When I open the door, I see Celeste asleep on my bed with an almost-empty glass bottle in her hand. Cas sits at the end of the bed looking at her, a look of regret on his face. "The hell is this?" I ask.

Cas looks up at me. "She didn't mean to fall asleep on your bed."

I point to the bottle in Cel's hand. "Is that whiskey?"

Cas looks at the bottle, then back up at me. "Yes."

"You let her drink?" Sam says.

"I thought that the angel half of her wouldn't allow the alcohol to affect her." Cas looks back down at the passed out teenager on the bed. "I was wrong."

"You're new to this parenting thing, aren't you?" I say walking over to the bed and pulling the bottle out of Cel's hand. It's still weird to think that Cas is a dad. The most socially awkward angel in the world is a dad.

"I'm not even supposed to be a part of this 'parenting thing,'" He says with air quotes. "And now she hates me."

"Oh come on, Cas, she doesn't hate you," I say.

"You weren't here, Dean. You didn't hear her." Cas gently places his hand on Cel's lower leg above her ankle. "The suffering I put her through."

"Cas, I'm sure she'll be able to look past it all eventually," Sam says. "Just give it time."

Without another word, Cas disappears. I put the whiskey bottle in my hand on the bedside table between the two beds and look at Cel. She looks peaceful. She won't be peaceful in the morning, but she is for now.

"What do you think he meant?" Sam asks, walking to his bed. "Suffering."

"Who knows. But the kid went her entire life without knowing her dad. I'm sure that's a big part of it."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I guess that has a bigger effect on girls."

Sam changes out of his flannel and into a t shirt and climbs onto his bed. It doesn't take long for him to pass out. I take off my leather jacket and toss it on top of my duffel bag by the bed. I look around for a second not knowing what to do. There's no couch in this motel room like there sometimes is.

After a few minutes of having a mental battle with myself, I finally decide to stick it out and sleep next to Celeste. She's only taking up a very small portion of the bed anyway; she won't even notice I'm there. I take off my black t shirt so I'll be more comfortable and throw it on top of my jacket. I crawl onto the bed, careful not to make any sudden moments, and quickly fall asleep.


I wake up to the sound of a groggy groan next to me. I roll over so that I'm laying on my back and now have a clear view of Cel. Her back is to me and she's propped up on her elbow rubbing her forehead with her other hand. Her legs are completely exposed. The jeans she was wearing are in a crumpled ball at the foot of the bed. I find myself looking at her legs definitely longer than I should.

She must've felt me roll over, because now she's staring at me over her shoulder. "Oh god," she groans. She sits up and looks me up and down, hovering on my bare stomach for a moment. "W-we didn't... did we?" She says.

"No no no no no!" I say, sitting up. "Nothing happened. We came back and you were asleep with a bottle of whiskey in your hand." She lets out a sigh of relief. "Question though," I say. She gives a small grunt as she rubs her temples. "Why aren't you wearing pants?"

Cel looks down at her exposed legs. "It never fails, I always end up kicking off my pants in my sleep." She picks up the wad of jean fabric and slips the pants over her long legs.

Damn, I need to stop watching this girl so closely. I lean over the bed and find my shirt. As I'm sliding the shirt over my torso, Celeste is scrolling through something on her phone. "You wanna tell me what happened last night?" I carefully ask.

My question brings her thumb to a halt. She looks over at Sam, who's still fast asleep in his bed. She sighs. "It was just my dad," she says. "I confronted him. About everything. I told him off." She pauses for a second. "He just put me through so much crap by not being there, ya know?"

"I know exactly what you mean," I reply. "Our dad went out hunting for weeks at a time, and when he did come back, he wasn't exactly a ray of freakin sunshine. It was usually just me and Sammy."

"I'm sorry. It must've been tough without your mom."

I nod. "Yeah. Wait, how'd you know about that?"

"I read like half of the first book, remember?" She half smiles.

I shake my head. "Those books are gonna be the death of me." Cel laughs a little, then goes back to rubbing her head. "When we get back to the bunker, I'll make you some breakfast," I say. "It'll help with the hangover."

     "Bunker?" She asks.

     "Yeah. It's this place we've got up in Lebanon, Kansas."

     She chuckles. "Who knew that being safe from demons would require being three states away from home?"

     "Yeah," I quietly say. I get up off the bed and make my way toward the bathroom. "But hey, at least you're with me, right?" I playfully wink.

     Cel half smiles. "I guess." It's obvious that she's sad, but I don't know what to do. I've never really had a home I've had to leave. What are you supposed to say to someone who has?