Strings Attached

Chapter 43

Castiel shakes his head. "No. I don't know if I remember how, actually."

Dean frowns. "Then you've gotta try it. Guitar is your thing. If you don't play guitar, you don't have a thing, and you need a thing."

"What's your thing?" Castiel asks.

"Hunting," Dean replies.

"Like rabbits and deer and things?"

"Yeah, and things."

"Cool," Castiel replies, unsure what else to say.

"I'm gonna go grab my guitar for you," Dean tells him before running up the stairs. Castiel waits around awkwardly for him to return. He does a few moments later, his guitar in his hand. He hands it to Castiel, who takes a seat because there's no strap on it. Dean sits on the couch again to watch.

Castiel just looks at the guitar for a moment, trying to remember how to use it. He remembers a couple chords, but that's about it. He looks up at Dean helplessly.

"I don't know," he admits.

Dean frowns, seeming genuinely disappointed about that. "Well, since you're stuck here 'til we stop kidnapping you, want me to reteach you? I'm sure it won't take much."

Castiel hesitates for a moment, then agrees. It's not like they have anything else to do now. They might as well be somewhat productive.

Dean goes to get his other guitar, the electric one, without the speakers. For the next couple hours, he shows Castiel how to play it again. By the time they finally wrap up the guitar lessons, Castiel's fingers are red and raw, the strings digging into the pads of his fingers because his callouses have faded overtime. Dean is the one to decide that they should stop; Castiel himself couldn't care less that his finger is starting to bleed slightly.

"I'm fine," Castiel protests.

"Look at it this way," Dean suggests. "If you split your fingers open, what next? You won't be able to play guitar until they heal, and then what would you do?"

Castiel frowns, knowing Dean is right but not wanting to stop. He agrees reluctantly, so Dean takes the guitars and puts them in the corner of the room before returning to Castiel.

"So, now what should we do?" Dean asks.

"Up to you," Castiel replies, just as he did the first time.

"No, it's your choice this time," Dean tells him. "I chose guitar. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Castiel replies. "Anything that doesn't involve being at my house."

"That's very helpful," Dean says sarcastically. "Wanna play board games again?"

Castiel shrugs. "Sure."

They find the shelves of board games in the house — why Bobby has a shelf of board games, they'll never know — and look for one to play. Dean waits for Castiel to pick, sticking to his word that it's Castiel's choice.

"Twister?" Castiel suggests finally.

"We don't have anyone to spin the spinner," Dean reminds him. "Unless we want to do it in advance and write it down or something."

Castiel shrugs. "'Kay."

That's what they do. For the next ten minutes, the write down what comes next, and then record it so they can't cheat by looking at what comes next. Then they get to play.

The game starts out easy. They start on separate sides, doing their own thing, until Dean takes the dot Castiel needs. Castiel shoots him a glare as he attempts to reach his leg under Dean to get to another one. From that moment on, the personal boundaries no longer exist; it's just a race to take the dot the other person needs before they get it.