Day 56: Bus 2

[razing_phoenix]

It was hard for Guy to believe that a farfetched idea of his might actually work out in the end, seeing how rare that was in this place. Still, he had found the leather and had been allowed to buy it, which meant that the toughest part at this point would be finding tools to work with and also blocking out enough time to work on making the sheath.

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[quarter_english]

There was no way out of the search, and even if there had been, L had nothing to hide.

He resented the physical intrusion on principle, more than for any other reason. His inclination, which had become habit through years of being indulged, was to be touched by others as little as possible. Searches and the other trappings of security theater were profoundly annoying in the context of frequent travel, but that travel was a choice, a necessary part of his work; on that basis, he could grudgingly tolerate those encroachments. The major difference now was that hadn't chosen this imprisonment and restriction at all, and the pat-downs seemed excessive in relation to a brief bus trip, although entirely in character for what he had seen of Aguilar so far. A show of cooperation was the best way to handle it. Still....

He indulged his irritation by fixing the soldier with an intent, aggressively patient stare through the brief ordeal, as if to say, I'm bored with this. This behavior was impertinent enough to provide some private amusement, but not so insolent that there was much chance that he would be punished for it. The soldier, who seemed to be as much of a professional as any of his colleagues, didn't take it personally.

There went the candy bars and cookies. Any mild chagrin L felt at handing the bag over was tempered by the promise that it would be returned. He had mild concerns about tampering--the current staff knew who the snacks belonged to and had already demonstrated an apparent enthusiasm for unwanted additives--but meals were more likely candidates than packaged snacks, because food that was cooked and served on a plate would be easier to alter. He wasn't sure that the bland flavor of the porridge served the previous day would hide much of anything, though.

As he boarded the bus, he scanned the rows for an empty seat alone, and didn't see one--but there was a seat next to the man who had been his lunch companion on Friday. L had found his manner weird enough to be interesting. He dropped into the open place, then asked, "You found who you were looking for yesterday?"

At least they were out of the cold.

[poorexample]

Being joined by someone was inevitable in such a cramped space, and so Castiel accepted the approach of this patient who he had spoken to two days back. They had not discussed much in their first conversation, which also meant it hadn't classified as useful for him, but perhaps this time would be better. And if not, then at least the man was soft-spoken enough that it would be a simple ride back.

Being asked about Dean no longer filled him with the same amount of dread and urgency, luckily. Castiel nodded. "Yes, I tracked him down today." Actually, Dean had been the one to find him in the end, though he didn't think that he had specifically planned for it. But they had found each other either way, and he was slowly making headway with him.

What else was there to say? There was not much point in sharing more information unless it was asked of him, after all. His dealings with Ruby were something that should be kept quiet if possible. It was not something that random humans needed to be dragged into.

"Did you find that this trip was useful?" he asked instead, managing to direct the conversation away from him, at least for now. It would be simpler that way. And maybe this man even had something of interest to tell him now.

[quarter_english]

L felt a flicker of annoyance. He was reminded of Edgar's behavior at lunch: neglecting to elaborate in a way that was close to deflecting the question, then changing the topic, so that the focus shifted to L's productivity. Because most people liked to talk about themselves, if given the opportunity, it was the kind of tactic that would have a good chance of success under most circumstances. However, L was an exception to that particular rule. His response would be almost the same now as it had been a few hours earlier: noncommittal.

From a more objective point of view, though, he couldn't fault this particular acquaintance for not being forthcoming. Even if the man hadn't indicated that he'd needed his conversation with his friend to be as private as possible, he might also be someone who was secretive by nature, something L could understand. That didn't mean that it would be impossible to get him talking; it meant that tactics that were less direct, more subtle, might be required. In their previous meeting, he'd readily admitted a dietary preference, which suggested that he wasn't a closed book in the absolute sense.

"Slightly more so than a day at the Institute, but not by much. Did you find it useful, Mr...? If I had seen you earlier, I would have given you my burger coupon."

This was not entirely true. He would have insisted on keeping the dessert.

[poorexample]

It seemed that they hadn't had the chance to exchange names during their last conversation. Castiel's name hadn't once been treated as familiar by anyone he'd met here, even if he'd taken care to not share it freely over the bulletin when possible. Still, there was no reason to keep it to himself. "Castiel," he replied, not much for the title, though it was possible the other man would drop the "mister" now that he had a name.

The offer of the coupon, hypothetical as it was, took him by surprise. He hadn't often been awarded such generosity from someone who he barely knew, and it was difficult to know how to respond. He glanced away for a moment before meeting the man's gaze once more.

"I would have appreciated that," he admitted, seeing no reason to hide such a thing. "Perhaps next time." He didn't want to believe that he would still be in this place a week from now, but he was also realistic by nature. He didn't have enough leads to assume he would escape so soon.

"It was not as useful as I'd hoped," he continued, hoping to get information in this way. "I went to the sheriff's office and attempted to speak with the officers there, but they either knew nothing or were not willing to share their information with me. I also did not find something to use my spendings on." If Dean had heard such a thing -- the Dean of his time, that is -- he would have no doubt made some comment about how he didn't know how to have a good time. And perhaps he didn't. He should have given his card to Gabriel, but it was too late for that now.

[quarter_english]

"That's an interesting name." L kept his tone neutral, as if this were a throwaway line. "Where are you from?"

L's first guess would have been that it was French, but he'd never heard of the name in use in France; prior to the early 1990s, any unusual name would have required bureaucratic approval that was difficult to get. There was also a possibility that 'Castiel' was ultimately of Hebrew origin, like a number of other names with the same suffix... but those were common in many parts of the world. It didn't tell him much, except to suggest eccentricity on the part of Castiel's parents, or, if it was something he had chosen for himself, on Castiel's own.

"Yes, maybe next time. What precisely did you say in the Sheriff's Office?" Given Castiel's general behavior, L suspected that there probably hadn't been too much finesse to his question. Even if it hadn't been blunt, though, it still seemed unlikely that anyone in Doyleton would have told him much.

[poorexample]

This was the first time that someone had asked about his name in such a direct way. If anything, people remained silent or simply gave off the impression that they found it odd, and that had been acceptable to him. At this point, though, it was difficult to know what to say. This man did not seem the sort to believe something vague, and yet Castiel had no other options.

"Far away," he said after a pause, realizing that it would only make the man more suspicious. However, even then the man wouldn't know what to suspect, so that was the best that he could hope for.

While he wasn't much more interested in speaking about his failure at questioning, he would rather discuss that than the origin of his name, and so Castiel quickly proceeded. "I first asked about this place's location, but all the man was willing to reveal was that we're in the United States.

"After that, I tried to determine how much he understands of what is being done to us in the institute, but he hardly seemed interested."

As for his questioning about omens and the Apocalypse, that was something he could keep to himself.