Reborn: Visit
Title: Reborn
Author: Aithilin
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of sex, swearing
Genre: General (subject to change), AU
Warnings: Season 5 spoilers, "John Winchester's Journal" spoilers, maybe.
Pairing: Eventual Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters were created by, and belong to, Kripke and company. Likenesses belong to respective actors.
Summary: Discontent in Heaven, Castiel Falls and becomes reborn as a mortal
------
Start from Chapter One
The monster was a huge, hulking beast- had to miss as it rumbled and growled its way around the college town. It prowled the same areas and kept to the same patterns in the streets, unaffected by daylight, despite the fact that it would have an easier time of hiding in the dead of night. It focused on a single target. A target that had to have noticed its existence by now, if not a few days ago when it first settled into its routines. There was no elegance to it. There was just this giant, black monster idling in plain view down the street.
Sometimes, Dean wondered if his dad wanted to get caught.
He could watch it from the safety of a busy street, blending in with the crowd by virtue of age and location. He could have watched it from the café patio, settled down with a decent coffee and a bit of food while he waited for the first damning move to be made. He could have, but he ended up deciding to take a the safer option of an inconspicuous alley where he could lean against a brick wall and watch the brown doorway with the brass knocker where his target had disappeared to almost thirty minutes ago.
He had found out about the appointment and location through Cas about two weeks ago. Sammy had a job interview. One that had him excited enough to call up Cas- or email the kid, or do whatever it was they did to keep in touch at opposite ends of the country- and, Dean presumed, squeal like an excited little girl. He wasn’t sure how their dad found out the same information, but he figured that it didn’t really matter. Right, now, all that mattered was the fact that the dull brown door was opening and Sam had stepped out into the light again.
There were exchanged words, which Dean couldn’t hear, and a lot of hand shaking and nodding. He supposed that he could have listened in, if he wanted, but he knew how painfully polite Sammy could be, and he had broken out the ‘eager puppy’ face for this. For a moment, Dean wondered if his dad was going to kick his beast of a truck into gear and follow Sammy the short distance back to the campus, but nothing happened. The truck didn’t move as Sammy walked off, already fishing out a phone to no doubt inform his geek friends of his success.
Pocketing the dying walkman he had carried with him, Dean ducked down the alley proper. The Impala was a few blocks away, far enough to be less obvious than his dad’s truck; far enough away to run if he saw Sammy heading towards it at any time. Unlike John, Dean didn’t want to be noticed. Because if he was noticed, he just knew that he’d have to say something, and that would probably mean having two geek kids pissed off at him when they compared notes. He had already been called a stalker when he called Sammy on his last birthday, and he wasn’t in the mood to repeat the experience now that he could be yelled at in person.
Besides, he had things to do. There was a possible hunt about ten miles north, and he had to find rock salt somewhere around here.
--
Dean never stuck around the college towns if he could avoid it. It took about two months, but he had hunted his way across the country until he was sprawled out in a half-empty dorm, tinkering with the toolset Bobby had given Cas before the school year had started. In those two months, his walkman had finally died, and he had an idea to salvage it while Cas packed up all the bits and pieces of his school life. Everything the kid owned could fit into a handful of small boxes and a duffle or two. When he helped the kid move in, Dean had voiced his approval- not much had changed in the course of a couple of semesters.
Now, at the end of the school year, Dean had agreed to get Cas out of the dorms while Bobby was busy at the salvage yard. It wasn’t exactly out of his way, and there were a few free meals in the deal he had set up. It worked nicely, really. The Impala had made a handful of appearances over the course of the school year, particularly during the brief breaks in the schedule when he was needed to chauffeur Cas between Ithaca and Sioux Falls. It wasn’t too bad; the Singers chipped in for gas, invited him for meals and holidays, and they were a fair hand with the car when she decided to throw a hissy fit at something or other. All in all, Dean had to admit that he liked the set up. He just tried not to think about how he was in close contact with the Singers when he barely spoke to his own family.
Over the course of the last year, Dean had found that he spent far more time kicking around Ithaca than Palo Alto. He chalked it up to Sammy’s reactions the few times they’d actually spoken during those visits, and how Cas seemed happy to open up his door without too many complaints.
So sprawled out over the thin carpet, with the tools arced around him and all within easy reach, he concentrated on his new project while he listened to Cas gather things and box them up. They were into the last things now, it seemed.
“Are you going to help?”
“Driving counts as helping.”
“I was thinking more about heavy lifting.”
“After I get this done.” Dean knew that he wasn’t going to get away with this much longer. His little project had been finished for about twenty minutes now, and he just had to run it through some tests. “Besides, how much heavy lifting could you have?”
“These boxes contain books, Dean. Textbooks. Ones that are generally in excess of three hundred pages and bound in hard covers.”
“Thought the smart kids sold their books after school. Didn’t Sammy do that?”
“I’m not one of the smart kids. Just put the tools in one of the bags.”
“You need a vacation.” Despite being hired to drive the kid around, Dean was well aware that Cas’ idea of ‘vacation’ was not normal. Hell, the plan was to drop his friend off at Pastor Jim’s for a couple of weeks and head on to deliver the packed books to Bobby.
“That would be why I’m packing.”
“I mean a real vacation, Cas. Sun, surf,” a slow grin spread as Dean stretched out on the thin carpet- tools tossed aside as he declared his project completely finished; “half-naked women on a beach.”
“Not interested.”
“Hell, I’m interested. You can just come along for the ride.”
“Dean, how long have you known me?” The harsh ripping of tape over cardboard drowned out the screech of the walkman as the hunter waved it close to an electrical outlet. The screech died quickly, but the pile of junk in Dean’s hand buzzed with each new movement around the room. “What the hell did you just make?”
“EMF reader. Awesome, right?”
“Impressive. Going to help now?”
“You suck.” Still, Dean was satisfied with the reaction enough to drop the repurposed walkman into his own bag before he shouldered Cas’. “You should spring for an apartment next year. No roommate to complain when I end up crashing at your place.”
“Apartments are expensive. And there would be fewer complaints if you didn’t smell like you just came from a bonfire.”
“Not my fault if hunting involves burning things. You love it when I visit you.”
“You eat all my food.” Dean knew the smile was edging into Cas’ voice, though. There was a definite balance they had reached sometime during the school year when it came to these little visits. Some things weren’t talked about, and they kept it easy and friendly- Dean liked to think that it wasn’t awkward at all after the first few times he’d spent the night, carefully sober and not touching the kid at all.
He’s not sure how it happened, but Cas was a few steps behind when Dean saw the familiar man. At least, he thought the guy was familiar. Dressed in a janitor’s uniform, the hunter wasn’t sure what about the guy that caught his attention other than the fact that he had grabbed Cas’ arm on their way out the door. The man was small- slighter than Cas, which was really saying something- but his sudden grip had stopped Cas in his tracks. Dean was about to say something, old protective instincts flaring up over the idea that someone might be hassling his friend, but the offending hand loosened and dropped, and Dean saw the smile Cas had in greeting.
Still, the guy seemed familiar, and there was something about the slicked back hair and lopsided grin that just rubbed Dean the wrong way. The hunter made a show of adjusting the boxes in his arms. “Hey. These aren’t light, you know.”
He caught sight of the bit of metal pressed into Cas’ free hand, but completely missed whatever was said between them. They weren’t more than six feet away, but it just sounded like nonsense syllables- nothing registered between sound and meaning. Dean huffed, frustrated now, and feeling left out of something important for the first time since he started visiting Cas at the campus.
It was over in a second, but Cas was still smiling as he caught up to Dean and the janitor disappeared into the newly vacated dorm room.
“Who was that?”
“Mr. Gabe.” Cas had his free hand in his pocket. “Just the head janitor. Nice guy, though.”
“Right. Let’s just get going.”
Author: Aithilin
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of sex, swearing
Genre: General (subject to change), AU
Warnings: Season 5 spoilers, "John Winchester's Journal" spoilers, maybe.
Pairing: Eventual Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters were created by, and belong to, Kripke and company. Likenesses belong to respective actors.
Summary: Discontent in Heaven, Castiel Falls and becomes reborn as a mortal
------
Start from Chapter One
The monster was a huge, hulking beast- had to miss as it rumbled and growled its way around the college town. It prowled the same areas and kept to the same patterns in the streets, unaffected by daylight, despite the fact that it would have an easier time of hiding in the dead of night. It focused on a single target. A target that had to have noticed its existence by now, if not a few days ago when it first settled into its routines. There was no elegance to it. There was just this giant, black monster idling in plain view down the street.
Sometimes, Dean wondered if his dad wanted to get caught.
He could watch it from the safety of a busy street, blending in with the crowd by virtue of age and location. He could have watched it from the café patio, settled down with a decent coffee and a bit of food while he waited for the first damning move to be made. He could have, but he ended up deciding to take a the safer option of an inconspicuous alley where he could lean against a brick wall and watch the brown doorway with the brass knocker where his target had disappeared to almost thirty minutes ago.
He had found out about the appointment and location through Cas about two weeks ago. Sammy had a job interview. One that had him excited enough to call up Cas- or email the kid, or do whatever it was they did to keep in touch at opposite ends of the country- and, Dean presumed, squeal like an excited little girl. He wasn’t sure how their dad found out the same information, but he figured that it didn’t really matter. Right, now, all that mattered was the fact that the dull brown door was opening and Sam had stepped out into the light again.
There were exchanged words, which Dean couldn’t hear, and a lot of hand shaking and nodding. He supposed that he could have listened in, if he wanted, but he knew how painfully polite Sammy could be, and he had broken out the ‘eager puppy’ face for this. For a moment, Dean wondered if his dad was going to kick his beast of a truck into gear and follow Sammy the short distance back to the campus, but nothing happened. The truck didn’t move as Sammy walked off, already fishing out a phone to no doubt inform his geek friends of his success.
Pocketing the dying walkman he had carried with him, Dean ducked down the alley proper. The Impala was a few blocks away, far enough to be less obvious than his dad’s truck; far enough away to run if he saw Sammy heading towards it at any time. Unlike John, Dean didn’t want to be noticed. Because if he was noticed, he just knew that he’d have to say something, and that would probably mean having two geek kids pissed off at him when they compared notes. He had already been called a stalker when he called Sammy on his last birthday, and he wasn’t in the mood to repeat the experience now that he could be yelled at in person.
Besides, he had things to do. There was a possible hunt about ten miles north, and he had to find rock salt somewhere around here.
--
Dean never stuck around the college towns if he could avoid it. It took about two months, but he had hunted his way across the country until he was sprawled out in a half-empty dorm, tinkering with the toolset Bobby had given Cas before the school year had started. In those two months, his walkman had finally died, and he had an idea to salvage it while Cas packed up all the bits and pieces of his school life. Everything the kid owned could fit into a handful of small boxes and a duffle or two. When he helped the kid move in, Dean had voiced his approval- not much had changed in the course of a couple of semesters.
Now, at the end of the school year, Dean had agreed to get Cas out of the dorms while Bobby was busy at the salvage yard. It wasn’t exactly out of his way, and there were a few free meals in the deal he had set up. It worked nicely, really. The Impala had made a handful of appearances over the course of the school year, particularly during the brief breaks in the schedule when he was needed to chauffeur Cas between Ithaca and Sioux Falls. It wasn’t too bad; the Singers chipped in for gas, invited him for meals and holidays, and they were a fair hand with the car when she decided to throw a hissy fit at something or other. All in all, Dean had to admit that he liked the set up. He just tried not to think about how he was in close contact with the Singers when he barely spoke to his own family.
Over the course of the last year, Dean had found that he spent far more time kicking around Ithaca than Palo Alto. He chalked it up to Sammy’s reactions the few times they’d actually spoken during those visits, and how Cas seemed happy to open up his door without too many complaints.
So sprawled out over the thin carpet, with the tools arced around him and all within easy reach, he concentrated on his new project while he listened to Cas gather things and box them up. They were into the last things now, it seemed.
“Are you going to help?”
“Driving counts as helping.”
“I was thinking more about heavy lifting.”
“After I get this done.” Dean knew that he wasn’t going to get away with this much longer. His little project had been finished for about twenty minutes now, and he just had to run it through some tests. “Besides, how much heavy lifting could you have?”
“These boxes contain books, Dean. Textbooks. Ones that are generally in excess of three hundred pages and bound in hard covers.”
“Thought the smart kids sold their books after school. Didn’t Sammy do that?”
“I’m not one of the smart kids. Just put the tools in one of the bags.”
“You need a vacation.” Despite being hired to drive the kid around, Dean was well aware that Cas’ idea of ‘vacation’ was not normal. Hell, the plan was to drop his friend off at Pastor Jim’s for a couple of weeks and head on to deliver the packed books to Bobby.
“That would be why I’m packing.”
“I mean a real vacation, Cas. Sun, surf,” a slow grin spread as Dean stretched out on the thin carpet- tools tossed aside as he declared his project completely finished; “half-naked women on a beach.”
“Not interested.”
“Hell, I’m interested. You can just come along for the ride.”
“Dean, how long have you known me?” The harsh ripping of tape over cardboard drowned out the screech of the walkman as the hunter waved it close to an electrical outlet. The screech died quickly, but the pile of junk in Dean’s hand buzzed with each new movement around the room. “What the hell did you just make?”
“EMF reader. Awesome, right?”
“Impressive. Going to help now?”
“You suck.” Still, Dean was satisfied with the reaction enough to drop the repurposed walkman into his own bag before he shouldered Cas’. “You should spring for an apartment next year. No roommate to complain when I end up crashing at your place.”
“Apartments are expensive. And there would be fewer complaints if you didn’t smell like you just came from a bonfire.”
“Not my fault if hunting involves burning things. You love it when I visit you.”
“You eat all my food.” Dean knew the smile was edging into Cas’ voice, though. There was a definite balance they had reached sometime during the school year when it came to these little visits. Some things weren’t talked about, and they kept it easy and friendly- Dean liked to think that it wasn’t awkward at all after the first few times he’d spent the night, carefully sober and not touching the kid at all.
He’s not sure how it happened, but Cas was a few steps behind when Dean saw the familiar man. At least, he thought the guy was familiar. Dressed in a janitor’s uniform, the hunter wasn’t sure what about the guy that caught his attention other than the fact that he had grabbed Cas’ arm on their way out the door. The man was small- slighter than Cas, which was really saying something- but his sudden grip had stopped Cas in his tracks. Dean was about to say something, old protective instincts flaring up over the idea that someone might be hassling his friend, but the offending hand loosened and dropped, and Dean saw the smile Cas had in greeting.
Still, the guy seemed familiar, and there was something about the slicked back hair and lopsided grin that just rubbed Dean the wrong way. The hunter made a show of adjusting the boxes in his arms. “Hey. These aren’t light, you know.”
He caught sight of the bit of metal pressed into Cas’ free hand, but completely missed whatever was said between them. They weren’t more than six feet away, but it just sounded like nonsense syllables- nothing registered between sound and meaning. Dean huffed, frustrated now, and feeling left out of something important for the first time since he started visiting Cas at the campus.
It was over in a second, but Cas was still smiling as he caught up to Dean and the janitor disappeared into the newly vacated dorm room.
“Who was that?”
“Mr. Gabe.” Cas had his free hand in his pocket. “Just the head janitor. Nice guy, though.”
“Right. Let’s just get going.”