Day 59: Cafeteria (noon)

[immortale]

By the time lunch rolled around, things still weren't getting any better. The voices hadn't gone away; instead, Firo was pretty sure they were getting more frequent. Ennis had been silent since last night, but Czes's voice had been an insistent buzz in his ear all morning

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[theroadsofar]

Dean pretended like he didn't hear Castiel's first question 'cause frankly, it was none of his damn business. The deal was already made. The last thing he needed was an angel with a five o'clock shadow deciding to bust in and try to change the terms because he had the power of the Almighty under his feathery ass or something. If he couldn't use that angel mojo from the future to stop all this, then obviously his influence only went so far. Besides, this was family. Aside from the whole...dying thing, Dean thought his deal could've gone a lot worse with actually having to look forward to some nice, toasty Hell fire.

"You serious? How come we never heard of a knife like that? And where'd we even get it?" It sounded like a sweet deal. But Dad hadn't heard of it and Bobby hadn't mentioned and demon shankers like that would stick out in the lore, you'd think. Maybe Castiel had just enough juice to bless it or something.

He wasn't surprised to hear it wasn't around here. Winchester luck. Lose the Colt, lose a friggen demon-killing knife. Sounded about right.

At least it sounded like Ruby was safe for now. Dean couldn't even believe he even thought that, glancing around without meaning to as if to make sure his bitch of a chaperone hadn't keeled over on him. Anything happened to her that looked suspicious and he could bet that crossroads demon might want to reconsider the deal. Dean turned his attention back to Castiel. The thing he was learned so far about Castiel was it was hard to tell if he normally looked like that or if he was actually tired.

So Castiel and his no-smiting. Had to be hard on a guy to know you couldn't get it up, angel or human or whatever. Dean felt kinda sorry for Castiel now, a slight frown on his face. So if he couldn't even smite one demon, then what else did that mean?

[allroadslead]

Lunch with his brother and the angel wasn't something Sam was looking forward to after spending all night in the jungle lighting crap on fire that was basically people's homes. But at least they'd gotten everyone out. Right? They hadn't gotten anything out of the mission run, but it was enough that no one had died.

When he walked into the cafeteria, he couldn't help but notice that some people were acting...weird about the food. Like, almost disgusted, even. The gruel hadn't exactly improved, but it was pretty much the same as ever. Huh.

He looked around, uncertain whether he should find Dean or Castiel first. Castiel might be more immediate, given his thing last night with the implanted memo-

Oh. Okay. That was one way to do it.

Sam walked over to where both Dean and Castiel were sitting. He hesitated a moment. It felt like he was interrupting something private, even though he knew he wasn't. Since. There was no reason for that. It just kinda had to do a lot with the intense way Castiel looked at his brother. Seriously, it was freaky sometimes.

If it'd been anyone else, Sam would've prefaced with something polite, but by now, he'd gotten that Castiel didn't care and Dean was, well. Dean was his brother. Interrupting him wasn't something he worried about.

He set down his tray and slid in next to Dean, stirring the pink mixture absently before taking a spoonful. "Hey."

[poorexample]

Castiel should have been prepared for Dean to inquire about how the knife had been obtained, which was logically the correct thing to ask. He could tell the truth -- it wasn't as if it made a difference when the knife wasn't here -- but he didn't want Dean to buy into the belief that Ruby was actually on his side. Or Sam's, for that matter.

Before he could attempt to fumble for some other response, Sam himself showed up to speak with them. That meant that any discussion of the demon would need to be pushed to the side -- or he would at least have to watch his words much more closely. He had been on unstable enough footing before; after yesterday, he doubted that Sam trusted him much at all.

He had Dean's trust, though, at least to an extent. That was something.

"Hello," he greeted. "I have to apologize to you for my behavior yesterday. I was not in --"

But before he could finish with the words that he had practiced by now, Castiel watched as Sam lifted a spoon of that rotten food to his mouth. His shoulders tensed for reasons he didn't completely understand. "Sam," he said, almost urgently. "What are you doing?"