venatoris | open post.

Nobody does.

[ He gets his free arm around Cas' waist, encouraging him to lean on Dean, let him share the weight of Cas' dread. Above all, despite whatever they are and whatever they did together, Cas is still Dean's friend, and Dean can be loyal, unhealthily so, to the people he cares about. ]

Watch your step, [ Dean says, glancing over at Cas, flashing him a little smirk when he catches the angel looking at him, fingers absently squeezing at his hip. He's got you, Cas. ]

Yeah, that's what I was thinkin'.

[ He kicks the door to the motel shut behind them as he walks Cas to the car, easing him to lean against the cool metal so Dean can open the back door and shove his clothes onto the floorboard, make room for Cas to lay down. ]

Okay, in you go.

[ The weakness Castiel feels, not only in his abilities but in his physical capabilities at the moment, is infinitely frustrating, but it's not entirely without its benefits. As he leans on Dean with a hand on Dean's shoulder for support, Dean wraps an arm around him, holds him close, and smiles, and Castiel is used feeling a soft warmth when Dean looks at him like that, but there's no glass between his senses and his grace right now, and that warmth he's used to feels more like an arcing, crackling flame. One smile and the press of Dean's fingers into his hip has numbed the pain and energized him. The walk to the car feels instant, like flying, and all too soon, it's time to separate.

Castiel leans against the car and watches Dean with quiet wonder, unsure if these feelings are human or his own, if it's a purely physical reaction to being held with such care. If that's the case, it's no wonder Dean's so promiscuous. Castiel can't imagine how anyone could resist him.

Dean holds open the car door, but Castiel's attention is still on Dean, unwavering. He doesn't make a move to get in. Soon they'll reunite with Sam and Rufus, and he'll have to share Dean's attention once more. As much as that is the right thing, for both Dean and humanity as a whole, Castiel resists it. His time alone with Dean is precious, sacred, and even debilitated as he is, he doesn't want to lose it. ]

Dean...

[ He shouldn't ask. After how terribly he performed his mission, he doesn't deserve the reward of Dean's time. He asks anyway, selfish and jealous for the intimacy Dean had offered him. ]

I know I wasn't able to return on time, as we'd agreed, but I'd still like to keep that promise to you, if you'll allow it.

[ He pulls himself out of the backseat of the car where he'd been rustling around, lost in thoughts of how to make the ride as comfortable as possible. Steal some hotel pillows and blankets, maybe. The impala's backseat isn't awful, Dean's slept in it (and done other...things in it) often enough while on the road, so he figures Cas will probably be okay to nap off and on, provided Dean doesn't blast music or hit any big bumps. ]

Yeah, Cas? [ He rests on the door, tipping his head, flicking his gaze over Cas' face, glancing over his lips and down his neck before he forces himself to look Cas in the eye when the question is posed.

It makes a flush crawl over his face, freckles standing out, blush down his neck. ]

Promise is a promise, Cas. I'm definitely gonna honor my end, if you want. [ It's intimidating, a little, but he said it and he meant it and he wants to. ]

[ Even if the ride isn't smooth or Dean's music is very loud, it's likely that Castiel will be able to sleep just fine through the trip. He feels drained in a way that's uncomfortable. His muscles ache. The sharp pain under his ribs throbs. There's a heavy sort of feeling to his entire body, except for his stomach, which feels like an empty balloon. His body is all but insisting on unconsciousness, and as much as Castiel would rather be awake to talk with (or listen to, or simply watch) Dean, sleep feels as inevitable as breathing, and bleeding, and other similarly human inconveniences. It's an especially inconvenient feeling right now when what he really wants is to push Dean into the back seat and fulfil that promise Dean is still miraculously agreeing to honor. ]

I do want to.

[ Castiel answers emphatically, because regardless of the state of his body, or grace, he will always be willing, where Dean is concerned. It's important Dean know that, how deeply he's wanted and appreciated, loved and admired, though saying as much seems out of the question, and showing it feels restricted to certain moments of solitude and privacy. They have something of that now, and Castiel is tempted. Dean is always lovely, but Castiel is finding he enjoys when Dean's cheeks flush pink like they are now, and there isn't all that much space between them. It would be easy to kiss his mouth. Ultimately, he decides not to take the risk of being dismissed for over-stepping, or making Dean uncomfortable in the moments before a long car ride. ]

When we're both able, then. It's a date.

[ There's no actual date set, but it's an expression he's picked up somewhere, possibly from Dean, and there's something that feels apt about it. He rests a hand on Dean's shoulder, both for the connection and for the support as he maneuvers himself as gingerly as possible into the back seat. ]

A date.

[ Dean nods, confirming it, embedding the moment in his mind; the way Cas looks, the tone of his low voice, the way the hopefulness lifts it, just a little. It's melodious to Dean's ears, which may sound strange, but a promise is a beautiful thing, full of love and want and wishes thrown like pennies into a fountain.

Love is an unfathomable, untouchable thing that others are blessed with, but never Dean; he cannot imagine a life where anyone loves him, because he is undeserving, unworthy.

But oh to have an angel love; this unfathomable being, this creature of pure wonder, interdimensional, wondrous, immeasurable. Cas is unimaginable beauty. Dean cannot even pretend to understand - which is infinitely frustrating, but nothing he can change at the present moment.

Dean sees Cas in the body of Jimmy Novak, a kind man with pretty lips and a lovely body, but there's so much more than that inside - so much more that is unable to break through. He is gentle with Cas, lets him rest, steals the aforementioned blankets and pillows, carefully covers him and props his head, tucking him in, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, Dean leaned over like he is, eyes fixed on Cas', a hand on his hip from where he'd been tucking him in. ]

[ Castiel's wings may be as distant as phantom limbs at the moment, but when Dean confirms his assertion and agrees, unbelievably, to more intimacy at some future time, Castiel feels the same weightlessness and invisible tug of his grace that he feels when flying. If only his body weren't so very heavy and his wings so very far away, he would have vanished on the spot, hoping only to reappear in Dean periphery at that later point with no time gone by for him at all. Wouldn't that be nice? It's a lovely thought that Castiel continues to entertain while he lays back against the seat.

He's expecting the car to jostle, the motor to start. He's startled instead when Dean leaves his vision from the backseat only to return a few moments later with an armful of bedding. Castiel tries to protest, but the pillow is already shoved behind his head, the blankets wrapped around him, and it reminds him that he stole that bottle of lubricant from the pharmacy days ago and never returned it, a memory that his him flushing warmer even as Dean leans over him, so he doesn't have the strength of will to complain.

It's a nice feeling, anyway, being cared for and made comfortable by Dean. The holy oil was its own reward; there's no reason for this kindness other than Dean's caring nature, and Castiel feels both unworthy and blessed by Dean's radiance. Dean pauses to look at him then, and their eyes meet, and Castiel gives in to his earlier temptation, brings his hands to Dean's jaw and pulls him down low enough to kiss his mouth sweetly and devoutly, like sipping wine from the chalice as he receives the Eucharist. ]

Thank you, Dean.

[ For millennia, Castiel has followed the orders of his superiors in the service of the Lord. He's spoken to prophets and listened to holy men preach about God's love in dozens of languages, but he's never felt God's presence so profoundly as he does in moments like these, bathed in the warmth of Dean's affection. ]

[ Dean had been going back and forth on if he should kiss Cas after everything they did together - their relationship is now, at this point, sort of an undefinable thing, and he isn't sure where they stand with one another. Dean isn't stupid enough to think any of them will survive the apocalypse, there is no happily ever after for them. He's battling decades worth of internalized homophobia with the want to simply say fuck it, I deserve this, if this is the end, why not take this one thing?

It's a hard line for Dean to smudge, and step over. He's been lying to himself for years about things he wants, and not just sexually. He's told himself since he was young that this was his life, he doesn't deserve anything else, this is what he's good at, what he does. He's told himself he doesn't want that apple-pie life, that he doesn't need a house in the suburbs or a cabin on a lake.

Dean doesn't deserve serenity or peace.

But the kiss, the way Cas' hands are so reverent on his skin, the brush of lips, the promise and meaning behind it, all the unspoken things loud and clear in his head... it makes his heart twist with longing. Dean can't help but lean in, press his palm against the seat so he doesn't crush Cas and hurt him more. He wants deeper kisses, to devour Cas and breathe him in, consume his soul. ]

[ Dean and Sam have led difficult lives. They've been manipulated by angels and demons since before they were born, and Castiel always believed that it was for a purpose, that Dean was destined to be a martyr for a holy cause, and that such a life was the noblest kind of existence a human could hope for.

He was wrong. Dean is so much more than a vessel of heavenly design. He defies expectation at every turn. He is quintessentially human; he suffers, he struggles, and he continues to live, not for himself, but for others. He's a leader of men. An inspiration to those wise enough to follow. Dean doesn't deserve peace in Heaven. He deserves peace now, on Earth.

Castiel only wishes he could give that to him. Even with his grace, all he can do is aid Dean in this war for the preservation of humankind, and hope that better days lie ahead, after it's ended. It's likely he won't survive it, but Dean and Sam will. If they don't, then humanity truly is lost, and Castiel won't allow all of humankind to be destroyed after only having just discovered the wonder of it. He lives now, not as a servant of God, but of mankind. Of Dean. If the only reward he gets for it is a painful death (again), and Dean's affection, then it will have been worth it.

Dean kisses him back with longing, and Castiel can't breathe. His chest aches. It's wonderful. He tilts his head and opens his mouth to inhale, just for a moment, before he presses his mouth to Dean's and slides his tongue against his lip, depending the kiss. It's even better than the first time. There's no distracting separation between body and grace, only the warmth of Dean's skin under his hands and the wet of Dean's mouth against his tongue. Castiel moans and leans into it, arching up towards Dean for more contact, more of Dean.

Something beneath his ribs that had knit together rips back open, and Castiel immediately regrets the action as his vision whites and he makes a startled, pained sound in the back of his throat. He falls back against the pillow, shivering, and his hands drop from Dean's cheeks to clutch at his shoulders. This painful interruption feels like karma for his abandonment of Heaven and all his misdeeds. He hates it. ]

[ Cas gives Dean more peace than he realizes - friendship, camaraderie. Someone to talk to outside of his brother, that he's working to trust again. Sam is currently...difficult for Dean to be around. He's working on it, he is, but it's tough to look at him and know that he picked a demon over his own blood.

It's a process.

Dean is not thinking about his brother right now, though. He's thinking about pink lips, Cas' sweet tongue, the taste of him on Dean's mouth, the pretty moan he makes, how he moves under Dean--

And consequently rips his wound open, sending Dean yanking himself back, horrified by what he's done. ]

Shit, I'm sorry! Sorry, Cas, fuck! Hold on, lemme go get the kit, you're oozing again--

[ Dammit, Dean! ]

[ This is not at all what Castiel was hoping for when he'd decided to kiss Dean just now. The pain is, well, painful. It sharp and intense for the lack of his grace, but worse is the guilt he feels for ruining what was meant to be a peaceful moment for Dean. Hearing Dean blame himself only twists the knife, and Castiel attempts to protest. ]

No, I... It's alright.

[ It's not actually alright. It's incredibly painful, as much as it had been when the wound was fresh, but it won't kill him, or it would have already done it. ]

I'll be alright.

[ There, that's more accurate, though it doesn't help his hands to stop shaking. He presses them both to cover the bandage, put pressure on it as he'd seen humans do for centuries, and lets his head fall back to the pillow again. "And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving due requital for what we have done." ]

Are you sure? This looks bad, man.

[ He's seen Cas come back from the dead, he's seen the angel get knocked around but this...

This scares Dean. This seems serious. It's got his heart rate up, worry gnawing at his belly. ]

Just wait here. Let me go get that kit outta the trunk.

[ Without waiting for Cas to stop him, he pulls himself from hovering over the angel and goes to rummage around in the trunk. There's a few more bandages, but they'll definitely need to restock pretty soon, especially if this wound doesn't start behaving itself - and if Dean doesn't start behaving himself.

It was just a kiss. That's all he'd wanted. An indulgence, some sweetness.

But it's back to damnation and hellfire raining down, isn't it. ]

[ What Castiel would prefer is to pass out and for Dean to drive them to wherever Sam is, so that they can continue doing what they need to in order to prevent the fall of mankind. Caring for his superficial wounds is a waste of time when his grace will regenerate and his body will heal without wasting human supplies. ...Hopefully. Castiel isn't entirely sure that will happen, but he's also not sure what he would do if his grace doesn't return. He's avoiding thinking about it for now. It's much easier to focus on the very real threat of the apocalypse, and on helping Dean rather than helping himself.

Dean is gone too quickly for him to argue, though. With a sigh that hurts more than it helps, Castiel closes his eyes while Dean is gone and tries to feel for his residual grace. He concentrates on that essence of himself, at the familiar electric crackle of it, however dim, and he thinks of building it back up like fanning a flame. It's impossible for him to say if it's truly working or not, but it distracts from the pain while he waits for Dean to arrive with a fresh bandage for the leaking wound in his side, still throbbing beneath the hard press of his hands. ]

[ No arguing with Dean on a mission. He's terrified, the worry deep in his bones. He hurries, popping the trunk and snatching the kit out of his still open duffle.

He takes a moment to breathe, in and out, calm himself down. The terror and fear of the last few days had ebbed when Cas appeared, only to double down with the injury. It gnaws on him; worry, fear and guilt, hurts his soul. ]

Okay. [ Dean announces himself as he returns, holding it up and giving it a little shake. ] We're in business. Move your hands.

[ Let Dean do this, regardless if it's needed or not. He can't...he can't be useless. Let him help. ]

[ Castiel's eyes open again at the sound of Dean's voice, and he cranes his head forward, though he stays lying down this time. Moving is the enemy. Stillness helps. When Dean asks him to move his hands, Castiel frowns, and hesitates, but reluctantly lifts them away. There's blood on one of his hands again, having leaked through the bandage. A pink line has dripped slowly down his side, adding to the blood stains on his shirt. His grace had better heal soon. This is the only shirt he owns, and he doesn't know any other way to clean and mend it. ]

My grace will heal me. This is a waste of your supplies.

[ Though he argues, there's no bite to it with as helplessly breathless as the words are. Aside from the few hours of rest he had in Dean's bed, Castiel has been fighting for a long time. Days. He's very tired. Too tired to fight Dean with any effort, especially when Dean is only offering him a wealth of kindness. ]

Cas. [ Dean says, gently, firmly, exasperatedly; ]

Shut up.

[ Because grace isn't cutting it, and they're on their third bandage.

Dean carefully, gently, cleans it again, alcohol wipes, disinfectant, antibiotic cream. He works quietly, taping Cas back up, wadding up the old bandage to throw out. ]

You keep saying your grace is gonna heal you, but this isn't getting any better, Cas. You shouldn't still be bleedin' like this.

[ Being told to shut up doesn't bother Castiel as Dean is often needlessly abrasive. Being told he's wrong about his own grace does bother him, though, and Castiel glares at Dean while Dean cleans the wound in his side again. Castiel's expression must be somewhere between anger and a pout, but he isn't thinking at all about what his face must look like. Why should he? This isn't his true form, he is his grace, and his grace will revitalize itself and this body. To believe otherwise is to accept that he's lost his identity as an angel, and he's already lost so much. His home, his ties to Heaven, his belief in God, the brethren he's killed... ]

It will heal me.

[ Castiel's hands fist petulantly at his sides, and he stares up at the Impala's ceiling as he feels in its full intensity the throb of pain in his side, the coolness of the alcohol on his skin, and the warmth of Dean's hands. He wants Dean to lie with him in this nest of motel blanket that smells like the gently floral shampoo in Dean's hair, encased in metal and leather of the place Dean calls home. He wants to forget that he's injured, forget that he's lost most of his grace, and forget that there is a war between angels and the end of the world to prevent. But he can't forget any of it, any more than he can forget the taste of Dean's mouth on his lips. Once Dean's taped the clean bandage to his skin, Castiel pulls Dean's hands away, careful to make his grip firm in order to mask any remaining shaking of them. ]

I only need to rest. And you need to drive.

Okay, okay.

[ Sassy, sassy. He holds a hand up in defeat, shaking his head. He won't press the issue, but there's physical evidence there's something wrong, that Cas isn't healing like he should be. All Dean knows to do is patch him up like he would his brother.

With a little more care, though.

Dean's used to slapping Sam back together and running right back into a fight - or vice versa. With Cas, he's more careful, gentle. Soft and sweet, the hands of a lover as opposed to a soldier.

He's struck with the fantastic notion to just run, take those hands Cas has wrapped around his, pulling them away from the bandages, and run.

As far away as they can get. Cancun. Alaska. Another planet. Anywhere but here, any place but this.

He wets his lips, presses them together as he watches Cas, gripping his hands just as tightly. ]

Ever wanna just...not do what you need to?

[ Dean may be right, but the potential loss of his grace is a sensitive issue to Castiel, and he's grateful when Dean backs down. His hands covering Dean's relax slightly, and he's surprised to find Dean still holding on tightly. He lifts his eyes to look at Dean as he considers his answer to the question, and more importantly, why Dean is asking it. ]

Often. And until recently, I've done what I was ordered to do, anyway. Usually to your detriment.

[ Of course Castiel feels the need for rebellion. Even before he'd sided with Dean and humanity, he'd questioned the orders he was given. To release Sam into Lilith's clutches and break the final seal on Lucifer's cage. To recruit Dean to torture information out of Alistair. To threaten the leveling of a city as a test of Dean's convictions.

Dean knows all of that (or most of it). That's not why he's asking. It's easy enough to read Dean's doubt there in his beautifully expressive eyes. Castiel looks down at their joined hands again as he considers their options. He slides his fingers over Dean's, links them together. ]

You said Sam that had a partner, Rufus. He's in contact with Bobby as well. If you believe they're not in immediate need of your help, it may be more conducive to the recovery of my grace if I were to rest somewhere... peaceful. A cabin in a forest, for example. Somewhere near a lake.

[ He almost laughs, because yes - Cas has occasionally been a pain in his ass. Cas comes through, though. He comes through when Dean needs him to. ]

Yeah, well. You make up for it.

[ He doesn't know Cas let Sam out - not yet. Admittedly it will piss Dean off, but what's done is done and in the end, there's nothing that Dean can do about it now except try to fix what got fucked up best he can, somehow.

And maybe...sneak a reward for himself in the process, in the form of whatever this...thing is developing between them. ]

Yeah, Rufus is with him. It's a standard monster hunt. No Lucifer, no demon, just a baddie that needs to be iced. [ Sam is more than capable, and since it isn't a demon, Dean isn't overly worried about the blood thing. ]

I'm sure I can find a place like that.

[ Because holy shit that sounds...really nice. He'll squeeze Cas' hands before letting go, pulling back and out of the car so he can shut the door and call his brother, explain a little more about what's going on - Cas isn't healing like he should, he needs to go somewhere and recover and Dean feels like he should watch over him, cause you know him, Sammy, he's as bad as us, thinks he's invincible or something when right now, he isn't.

Sam will just laugh, and Dean can practically hear him shake his head and he feels good, better about this, because Sam laughs and he's safe and it's okay. They're talking. They're good. It's fine.

Sam updates Dean about the case, too - it's just a vengeful spirit, it turns out. Nothing world ending, for once. Just the stuff they used to hunt, ages ago. He tells Dean to be careful, to stay under the angel radar as much as he can - the brands on their ribs protect them but he isn't sure about Cas, if Zachariah can track him or what.

We'll be fine, I'm gonna take him somewhere quiet. When you're done with that, get your ass back to Bobby's and you call me, you understand?

I hear you, Dean.

He hangs up, because the Winchesters really just don't have any phone etiquette, and slides into the drivers seat, resting his hands on the impala. He has an idea about where to go, a secluded place he's sort of half assed researched before in his free time, if just because he liked the idea of it. It isn't all that far from here, a few hours drive at most. A quick survey of a map puts the route in his head, and he folds it up before glancing over his shoulder. ]

You okay back there, Cas? Hangin' in?

[ There won't ever be enough "making up" for the things Castiel's done in his life, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth trying. The holy oil was what he thought would benefit Dean and his cause most dramatically, but perhaps he was overlooking a more important, more human, thing Dean needs. Some rest and time away from his responsibilities may rejuvenate Dean in ways Castiel has seen before.

Castiel can only just barely make out Dean's voice through the door as he talks on his phone, but the conversation sounds lighthearted. That's good. As long as Dean and Sam remain on good terms, maybe it doesn't matter that there's distance between them. Castiel isn't entirely sure how that works. The relationship with his brothers and sisters is nothing like Dean and Sam's and never was.

The bleeding seems to have stopped, so Castiel chances careful slow movements. He pulls the blanket back up over his chest and curls his head under his arm so that he can see Dean's profile in the rearview mirror. The pain isn't gone, but it's dulled back to a quiet throbbing warmth. ]

Yes, the bedding is very comfortable. Thank you.

[ His eyelids threaten to fall shut, heavy with exhaustion, but he keeps them opened, watching Dean's reflection with interest and quiet concern. ]

How is Sam?

[ He smiles a little to himself, wrapping his fingers around the wheel with one hand as he cranks the car with the other, engine roaring to life. ]

Glad to hear it. [ A quick glance in the rearview has him meeting Cas' eyes, and this time he does smile, reassuring. ]

Sam's fine. It's just a pissed off spirit. Rufus is good backup - they'll be fine. Once they're finished, he'll go back to Bobby's and lay low for a while.

[ It's the best scenario Dean can come up with right now - especially with Cas being hurt like he is, and between the brothers and their dueling savior complexes, it's the only compromise he can think of. ]

You should get some rest, Cas. I'll wake you when we get there.

[ Most of Castiel's decisions, he questions. He was created to follow orders, and though that came with its own sense of guilt, ultimately, the responsibility lay elsewhere. Even following Dean's example gives him comfort in that the decisions aren't wholly his own. When he's forced into a situation where he needs to think for himself, then things become more difficult, and when things end badly, as they had on his last excursion, the regret is cavernous. This decision, though, already has Dean smiling at him, and no matter what comes of it, whether his grace recovers or not, or whether Sam overpowers Bobby as he's done before in pursuit of Lucifer, he won't regret the decision to take Dean somewhere he'll enjoy and see him happy, however fleeting. Dean deserves that much.

Castiel nods and lets his heavy eyelids fall closed, even before he answers. ]

That's good to hear. Wake me sooner if the need arises.

[ He's very tired, exhausted enough that as soon as his eyes are closed, his breathing begins to even out and his thoughts start to wander. Still, if Dean needs him before the trip is over, he wants to be awake for it. He may not be of any use in a fight or similar distress, but if Dean is lonely and needs company on the drive, at least that's something he could provide. Castiel realized at some point that as much as he takes pride in being a resource at Dean's (and humanity's) disposal, he doesn't just want to be that. He takes pride in being Dean's friend just as much, and he'd considered that something of a selfish desire before now. Now, he thinks that Dean might need a friend even more than an angel, at least until the dissonance with his brother is resolved. ]

[ As much as Dean does get bored in the car alone, he doesn't wake Cas. He checks on him from time to time in the rearview, watching him sleep, making sure he's breathing, but beyond that Dean won't wake him. Cas needs the rest to heal, cause...well.

That's what humans do, isn't it.

Jeez, that's a terrifying thought. Cas actually asleep, like the rest of humanity...

It worries Dean. A lot.

He exhales long and slow through his nose, checks his phone every so often. Sam's keeping him updated, but he's still...stressed. He's stressed about everything. About his brother, about his Back to the Future trip, about confrontations with Zachariah, about the wounded angel in his backseat...

Fucks sake. It's far too much for someone to handle, but he is doing the best he can with the cards he's been dealt. And right now, he's driving them to an isolated cabin he knows of, somewhere a few hours out. The silence is boring, but it gives him time to take a few breaths and calm down.

He only stops once for gas and more bandages, a few snacks and a quick pee, but Cas doesn't budge, which concerns Dean until he sees the angels chest rising and falling.

Eventually, he'll pull up the drive into the cabin; it's pretty out there, no neighbors in sight. It's all solar, off grid. No wifi, but there's a tower just close enough to provide cell reception. Situated on a serene lake, it's a little mountain oasis - precisely the kind of thing he's always craved.

Gently, when he's parked, he'll shake Cas awake. ]

Cas. We're here.

[ Sleeping is a strange sort of practice, but it's not all that different from meditation, a practice with which Castiel is very familiar. Dreaming, however, is an entirely new experience, and Castiel doesn't like it. The dream of Dean's which he'd entered was peaceful, serene, but he understands not all dreams are like that. He's not sure what the difference is, though. What decides whether one has a good dream or a bad one? He'll have to ask Dean at some point. He'd like to dream less of Heaven in the future and more of the lakes and forest cabins of Earth.

The memory of his dreams of Heaven and all their terror fades almost instantly once Dean's hand is on his shoulder, rousing him. Castiel's eyes blink open, and he lifts his head. The wound in his stomach is barely an itch, and so he sits up almost immediately without thinking about it. Luckily, it only tugs and doesn't tear. Castiel barely grimaces, his attention divided instead between Dean there in front of him and the view of forest through the Impala's windows. ]

How was the drive?

[ He should've asked how long they'd be in the car before they'd left, out of concern for Dean, but he was exhausted. It's not a very good excuse, but now that he's feeling recovered somewhat, he searches Dean's face for signs of wear. ]

Move slow, Cas, you're still hurt.

[ Angels. Always thinking they're invincible. Tsk. ]

Not bad. Quiet. You snore, though.

[ He leans in, offers a hand. Dean is smiling at his little joke (but Cas does snore, just a little bit), but he looks weary - physically and mentally. There are circles under red rimmed eyes, lids a little puffy.

He's fine, though. Just needs an hour nap at some point and he'll be good as new. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

okay but that's a nice cabin???? now i want a vacay there

lmfao right??? dean has taste