Just a Baby in a Trench Coat

Chapter 8 ~ You Open Up Only to Shove It All Back In

While Dean was in the shower, Castiel completely reorganized Dean's duffle. It wasn't that hard really, just folding things and putting them up. It was when he stumbled across old outfits he recognized that he paused. He pulled out an old shirt with a faded Metallica symbol on it and remembered it was Castiel's "pajama" shirt. Dean had walked in one day as he had been laying in bed and stated Castiel could never sleep in a trenchcoat (which he had been doing perfectly fine) before bringing in the Metallica shirt and some sweatpants. Castiel had to admit, it did feel better than his suit and tie. Holding up the shirt, he wondered why Dean had brought the shirt along. It is his shirt, he finally concluded. A few other items of clothing caught his eye, memory after memory being called to mind as Castiel rubbed the material between his fingers. He was frustrated with himself. Just remembering things caused this, this pain in his chest. He couldn't understand it. Thinking back, he couldn't even pinpoint when the pain had begun. All he knew was that it happened with Dean. It made him do weird things. The argument they had had almost a week ago was because of this pain.

Dean had been cornered in a vampire's nest, and when Dean yelled at Castiel to help Sam (who had been fine) he hadn't obeyed. Instead, he had felt this pain in his chest and it intensified when a vampire got dangerously close to Dean's neck and he ran without even thinking. In seconds he was among the vampires mercilessly tearing through them, just so he could get to Dean. Dean had been furious about it afterward. When Dean demanded to know why he didn't listen, Castiel couldn't think of a good reason. He had done things like that in the past, but it was this fight that made the pain so prominent that it forced Castiel into introspection. Now, Castiel was bitterly aware of the pain that sat lodged in his chest. No matter what he did, it wouldn't go away. He concluded the best thing would be to leave, to maybe float around and do some hunting jobs by himself, had even planned on telling the Winchesters after they completed this hint, but after he watched Dean get shot-- Castiel grit his teeth at the memory--he realized he couldn't. When he had watched the light drain from Dean's eyes, had felt the emptiness crawl up his throat as he tried to pump life back into his chest, his mind came to the quick conclusion that he could never leave, because the pain in his chest would kill him if he lost Dean.

Castiel had tightened his fist while lost in thought and his hand started to hurt. With a sigh, he folded the shirt he had crumpled and set it back in the bag. Dean was singing in the shower, and it made Castiel smile to himself. The pain relented for a moment before coming back. Like a wave. He touched his chest lightly and could feel the mortal beat of his heart. It was his heart now, no longer Jimmy Novak's (Jimmy had given Castiel his blessing, afterall). Cas flexed his fingers, feeling very aware all of a sudden; aware that this body was a human body, that was now his. He, an angel, in a human body, effectively human--but not a human. A weird half-truth. He still had his wings, not that humans could see them, and it was like a dual reminder of his past and of his future. Here, his body was breakable and his company had time-limits. In Heaven, his body was flexible and his company was eternal. Yet, he mused, he preferred the company here. Here, they seemed to have compassion, and faith, and loyalty. All things the angels were supposed to possess. All the things Castiel had not been, but had learned to be. He couldn't help his eyes wandering to the bathroom door where Dean had switched songs, now singing a modern song he had heard once on the radio. His chest warmed, and Castiel decided maybe this pain wouldn't be such a curse.

When Dean came out of the shower his hair was completely soaked and the water kept dripping onto the collar of his shirt. Castiel was quickly reminded of another side-effect of the pain. Dean was very handsome, any creature of any realm would admit that. Castiel had noticed, but never thought anything of it -- that is, until he started to feel the pain. Now, when Dean came out of the bathroom refreshed and smiling, it made Castiel feel like he was going to throw up. He had to avert his eyes away and focus on his twisting stomach. It was torture.

"Cas, you okay?" Dean asked, coming over with a worried expression as he gently touched Castiel's shoulder. It made his shoulder heat up and his body instantly wanted to go to the heat, but he controlled it and pulled away, "Yes, I'm fine Dean. I think it's an effect of the spell, that's all." Dean allowed him to pull away but added, "Alright, but if you start to feel any sicker make sure to tell us. Don't want you to drop out on us just because you got spell-sick."

Castiel nodded, and Dean let his gaze linger before returning to his and Sam's bags. Apparently, cleaning meant finding all the weapons that Sam had hidden before and putting them all together.

Castiel sat on the bed and watched quietly as Dean walked around the room picking up various things that were hidden in anticipation of Ellie. Castiel shivered a bit. He knew that Dean hadn't known Ellie was the murderer, but the cackling and wicked smile she had given him reminded him so much of --he cut himself off. He didn't need to remember her, or the things she had forced him to do. She was gone.

"Hey, Cas." started Dean, his back facing the man in question as he reached behind the poorly mounted TV and pulled out a piece of what Castiel believed to be a shotgun, "I've been thinking...about our argument last week..." Castiel could hear the nervousness in Dean's voice and decided to speak, "I'm sorry Dean. I shouldn't have presumed that--"

"What? No, Cas--" Dean cut him off as he turned around, looking wildly perplexed, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you for saving my life."

Castiel wasn't expecting an apology from Dean Winchester. Dean took one look at Castiel's face and laughed a little, "Yeah, I'll admit I'm not sure why I snapped at you. Maybe I was just tired, ya know." he shrugged and put away the shotgun piece, "Still shouldn't have snapped."

"Dean," Castiel stood, "You don't have to apologize. What I did was--"

"Completely unnecessary, sure, but--"

"Unnecessary? Those vampires were--"

"I had it under control, Cas, and--"

"Those vampires nearly bit you--"

"I had it under control, Cas! You were the one who almost became vamp chow! "

Castiel was in complete disbelief at the cognitive dissonance Dean was employing. The pain in his chest wanted him to defend his actions, defend him and his right to defend Dean. It made no sense.

"Dean, I could not have been injured or turned but you--"

"It doesn't matter Cas, you shouldn't just jump headfirst into a horde--"

"You would do the same thing--"

"That doesn't mean it's okay--!"

The motel door slammed open and Gabriel had his hands covering his ears as he marched in, "Your fucking domestic is so loud we could hear it from the car!"

It was when Castiel finally broke intense eye contact with Dean that he realized how close he had come. He and Dean had maybe a foot of distance between themselves. Dean glared before turning away and going back to his bags. The pain in Castiel missed the closeness, but the stubborn part of Castiel refused to relent to Dean. He had made the right choice in rushing to Dean's aid, and he would stand by that until he died.

"Dean, Lisa wanted me to tell you she said hi back." said Sam as he stood awkwardly by Gabriel, who was pouting and rubbing his temples as if he had any right to be angry over an argument between the two of them. Dean huffed in response, still staying silent and Castiel decided he needed to stretch his wings. With no more than a swish of his trenchcoat he took off towards the sky.