A Heart That Hurts (Is A Heart That Works) - Chapter 4
On we go.
Chapter 4
Castiel had no idea how long he’d been walking; he hadn’t paid attention to the direction he’d been going, and he had no idea where he was now. Seeing Claire’s tears had been unbearable; the overwhelming guilt had made his stomach twist until he thought he was going to be sick.
Not that Castiel had ever been sick, but he’d recognized the feeling.
Spotting a bus stop, Castiel sat down heavily on the bench, rubbing sweaty palms on his khakis. He felt sweat trickling down his back in the sultry night air. Night had fallen, but the darkness brought no relief from the humid warmth.
Although Castiel knew that he should head back to the motel, he didn’t think he could face Claire or Dean.
Castiel put his head in his hands, threading trembling fingers through his hair. His stomach growled with hunger, and he let his shoulders slump, pushing everything out of his mind. For a moment, he wished that he’d never disobeyed, that he’d never fallen. Castiel wondered if it was worth it, and he found he couldn’t answer that question.
Not yet, anyway.
“Are you okay?”
Castiel forced his head up to see a young woman looking at him with concern in her eyes. She looked to be a few years younger than Sam, and she was clutching the backpack strap slung across her right shoulder.
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” she repeated, taking a cautious step closer and pushing light brown hair out of her eyes. “You look a little pale.”
“No, I’m fine,” Castiel assured her.
She appeared uncertain but nodded. “Okay.”
As she walked away, Castiel realized that he needed directions back to the motel, and she seemed friendly enough to help. “Wait! Do you know where the Starlite Motel is?”
“Five blocks that way,” she replied, pointing in the opposite direction she was heading. “Then turn left. You’ll be able to see the sign from there.”
“Thank you,” he said gravely.
“Be careful!” she called.
Castiel was warmed by her concern as he began trudging towards the motel, his legs feeling like lead weights, making the six blocks back to the hotel feel like six miles. When he opened the door, Castiel’s eyes went immediately to the still figure on the bed farthest from the door.
“She’s asleep,” Dean said quietly from the edge of the other bed. Bits and pieces of a gun were laid out on a towel spread on the bed as he cleaned the barrel. “You okay?”
Castiel nodded, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Yes.”
“You hungry? I ordered pizza. It’s probably cold by now, but there are a few pieces left.”
“Yes.” Castiel crossed the room to the small table with the cardboard box. Grabbing a piece as he’d seen Dean do in the past, he took a large bite of the slice. He was so hungry, and the taste was so incredible, that he couldn’t prevent the moan of pleasure from escaping.
He caught the strange look that Dean gave him, but Castiel didn’t care. He grabbed a second slice with his free hand and sat down next to Dean on the bed.
“Where did you go?” Dean asked after a moment, his attention still focused on his gun.
Castiel took another bite, focusing on the taste of the cheese and bread and sauce, and the feel of the air conditioning as it dried his sweat. “I just went for a walk.”
“Long walk.”
“Yes.” Castiel continued to eat steadily, his hunger slowly satiated.
“You can’t just take off like that.” Dean broke the silence after a long few minutes as he began to put the gun back together. “One of us had to stay here with Claire, and what if something had happened to you?”
Castiel wished he could assure Dean that he was self-sufficient, that he could take care of himself. He was not certain that was true.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”
Castiel finished his second slice of pizza, then eyed the box longingly.
“Finish it up,” Dean said. “You didn’t get dinner.”
Castiel did as he was told, still used to following orders, even if he had rebelled against heaven and everything he was.
“We should get some sleep,” Dean announced after Castiel had finished the pizza. “We have a long drive tomorrow.”
Castiel realized with a pang that Dean had stayed awake to wait for him, and that Dean would be the one who had to drive on only a few hours of sleep. “Dean, I’m sorry.”
“Forget it, Cas,” Dean replied gruffly. “It’s done.”
“You should take the bed,” Castiel said quickly.
“You had the floor last night.” Dean pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his bare back to Castiel, then stripping off his jeans.
Castiel cleared his throat. “The bed is big enough for both of us, Dean. If you kick, I don’t mind.”
Dean turned to look at him, and Castiel’s eye was caught in turn by the handprint on Dean’s shoulder, the tattoo on his chest, the new scars that hadn’t been there the last time Castiel had peered in on Dean half-dressed.
Dean’s eyes narrowed, and he appeared suspicious, although Castiel wasn’t certain why. “Yeah, alright. Just-don’t tell Sam, okay?”
“Of course.” Castiel didn’t know why Dean had asked that of him, but he readily agreed, not questioning why the idea of sharing the bed with Dean made him so happy.
Dean sighed. “Yeah, well, remember to brush your teeth.”
Castiel brushed his teeth and undressed, feeling strange as he climbed into bed next to Dean. He couldn’t see Claire over Dean’s still figure, and Castiel found he preferred that. For a moment, Castiel could pretend that it was just him and Dean.
Feeling Dean’s warmth so close to him caused Castiel to become aroused, and he had to exercise all his self-control to not touch himself. It was too risky, with Dean lying beside him, and Claire in a bed across the room.
Instead, Castiel stared up at the ceiling and thought about what Dean had said, about how being human didn’t suck.
Castiel added pizza to the list of reasons.
~~~~~
Dean woke up the next morning, feeling warmer than he had in a while. After a moment, he realized that there was a bare chest pressed up against his back, and an arm thrown across his waist. He knew that the appropriate reaction would be to jump out of bed, to berate Castiel for getting too close, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to move. He could feel Castiel’s warm breath on the back of his neck, and it was way more erotic than Dean thought it had any right to be.
Castiel’s arm tightened around Dean’s waist, and Dean felt Cas’ nose press closer to the back of his neck as he nuzzled Dean’s shoulder.
Dean drew in a deep breath, then released it, trying to control his reaction to Castiel’s proximity.
Closing his eyes, Dean relaxed, reveling in the sense in being so close to another human being. It had been a long time-not since a few weeks into the apocalypse, when his bedmate for the evening had tried to kill him.
He’d checked her for possession, of course, but she’d come up clean-and Dean had had a very narrow escape. He’d figured it was too dangerous to pick up random women after that-a decision which Sam had reinforced through his nagging, and they had been much too busy anyway.
Dean must have drifted off again, because when he opened his eyes, Claire was sitting cross-legged on the other bed, watching him and Castiel with narrowed eyes. Feeling his face flush deeply, Dean extricated himself from Castiel’s embrace.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
When Claire didn’t continue, Dean asked, “You okay?”
She nodded silently.
“You hungry?”
Claire tilted her head. “Yes,” she finally said after some consideration.
“Anything you want?”
“Pancakes?”
Dean grinned at her. “A woman after my own heart.”
Claire’s answering smile was a reward.
“Get dressed,” Dean advised. “We’ll pack up and grab breakfast before we head out.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, and Dean shook Castiel awake. “Cas, man. We have to go.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Dean realized that Castiel hadn’t had a nightmare for the first time since they’d found him in the field. “We need to get going.”
“Is there time for a shower?” Castiel asked sleepily.
“No, sorry, man. You can get a shower once we get back to Bobby’s.”
Castiel accepted Dean’s response without argument, rising to dress immediately. Dean decided that he could get used to this, since Sam seemed to argue with him all the time.
Castiel had just finished pulling his t-shirt over his head when Claire exited the bathroom, and they stared at one another in silence for a long time. “Hello, Claire,” Castiel finally said.
Claire stared at him, then turned to Dean. “Are we going to get breakfast soon?”
“Yeah, kid,” Dean replied, realizing that Claire was going to give Cas the silent treatment, which he knew sucked from experience.
Dean started to throw their clothing into a duffel bag, his and Cas’ stuff mixed together. He figured they could sort it out later; right now, Dean just wanted to get out of the hotel room-not that being in the car would be any better.
Small space, a traumatized kid who refused to speak to the guy wearing her dad’s face, and a traumatized angel who wasn’t quite certain he wanted to be human. Great.
The knock on the door interrupted his packing. “Housekeeping!”
“Come back in fifteen minutes,” Dean called out, stuffing a dirty shirt into his duffel.
Looking back later, Dean knew that he probably should have expected trouble; it had all been entirely too easy up to that point.
The door burst open as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and Dean had a split second to take in the sight of the two men and their black eyes. He had no idea where the knife was, which was definitely unlike him.
Castiel threw himself at the first man, narrowly avoiding the knife he was holding and scuffing the salt line in the process.
Dean swore. “Cas! Knife!”
“Bedside table!” Castiel managed to gasp.
Castiel was just barely holding his own, tangling the demon up in the doorway so the second one couldn’t get through. “In the bathroom, and lock the door!” Dean shouted at Claire.
She gave a little yelp, but she did as she was told. Dean threw himself across the bed and scrabbled in the drawer for the knife. The hilt felt as though it belonged in his hand, and he bolted towards Castiel.
Cas was hanging on for dear life, his split lip dripping blood on the floor. The demon managed to backhand Castiel, and he flew across the room and hit the wall. Dean stepped in, stabbing the demon in his stomach and twisting the knife. He tossed the body towards the other demon, but it only slowed him down for a split second.
The second demon strode into the room, and he seized Dean with his right hand by the throat, squeezing hard. With his left hand, he grabbed Dean’s wrist, and Dean could feel the bones in his arm grind together as the knife dropped from his nerveless fingers.
The demon suddenly released his throat, and Dean dropped to the floor, falling to one knee as he coughed, the demon collapsing in front of him, knife sticking out of the side of his neck. Dean glanced over at Castiel, who was on his knees next to Dean.
“Are you okay?” Castiel gasped out.
“Should be asking you that.” Dean took in Castiel’s injuries-the blood trickling down his temple and his chin, bruises already forming on pale skin. Dean held up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two,” Castiel grunted, then looked at the dead body on the floor. “That was a lucky shot,” he admitted.
“Lucky or not, it was a good one,” Dean said, clambering to his feet and extending a hand to Cas. “We need to get out of here before someone calls the cops.”
Castiel nodded. “I’ll get the bags.”
Dean knocked on the bathroom door. “Claire? It’s safe to come out now.”
“How do I know it’s really you?” she called through the flimsy wood.
It was a decent question, Dean had to admit. “You know how to tell if someone is possessed?”
“No.”
“You say christo, and see how they react.”
“You say Christ in Latin?”
“That’s right.”
“But you said it.”
“So, I must not be possessed, right?” Dean watched as the door swung slowly open, and he made sure that he was between her and the dead bodies. “Come on. Cas is loading up the car. We need to leave.”
Claire swallowed, and Dean could see the tear tracks on her face. “Are they dead?”
Dean didn’t see the point in lying to her, so he didn’t. “Yeah, kid, they’re dead, but it was better them than us.”
“How come the salt didn’t hold them back?”
“Salt lines aren’t perfect,” Dean replied. “Come on. Cover your eyes; I’ll get you out of here.” He wasn’t about to blame Cas in front of her, although he’d need to have a word with Castiel later about not sacrificing himself so readily.
Claire shook her head stubbornly. “I think they killed my mom. I want to see them dead.”
Dean couldn’t argue with the sentiment. He led her out of the motel room, towards the car. Castiel was already in the passenger seat, his head resting against the glass. Claire climbed into the backseat behind Cas, and as Dean walked around the car, he could hear her say, “Thank you.”
Dean knew that his smile matched the one that touched Cas’ lips.
Chapter 4
Castiel had no idea how long he’d been walking; he hadn’t paid attention to the direction he’d been going, and he had no idea where he was now. Seeing Claire’s tears had been unbearable; the overwhelming guilt had made his stomach twist until he thought he was going to be sick.
Not that Castiel had ever been sick, but he’d recognized the feeling.
Spotting a bus stop, Castiel sat down heavily on the bench, rubbing sweaty palms on his khakis. He felt sweat trickling down his back in the sultry night air. Night had fallen, but the darkness brought no relief from the humid warmth.
Although Castiel knew that he should head back to the motel, he didn’t think he could face Claire or Dean.
Castiel put his head in his hands, threading trembling fingers through his hair. His stomach growled with hunger, and he let his shoulders slump, pushing everything out of his mind. For a moment, he wished that he’d never disobeyed, that he’d never fallen. Castiel wondered if it was worth it, and he found he couldn’t answer that question.
Not yet, anyway.
“Are you okay?”
Castiel forced his head up to see a young woman looking at him with concern in her eyes. She looked to be a few years younger than Sam, and she was clutching the backpack strap slung across her right shoulder.
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” she repeated, taking a cautious step closer and pushing light brown hair out of her eyes. “You look a little pale.”
“No, I’m fine,” Castiel assured her.
She appeared uncertain but nodded. “Okay.”
As she walked away, Castiel realized that he needed directions back to the motel, and she seemed friendly enough to help. “Wait! Do you know where the Starlite Motel is?”
“Five blocks that way,” she replied, pointing in the opposite direction she was heading. “Then turn left. You’ll be able to see the sign from there.”
“Thank you,” he said gravely.
“Be careful!” she called.
Castiel was warmed by her concern as he began trudging towards the motel, his legs feeling like lead weights, making the six blocks back to the hotel feel like six miles. When he opened the door, Castiel’s eyes went immediately to the still figure on the bed farthest from the door.
“She’s asleep,” Dean said quietly from the edge of the other bed. Bits and pieces of a gun were laid out on a towel spread on the bed as he cleaned the barrel. “You okay?”
Castiel nodded, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Yes.”
“You hungry? I ordered pizza. It’s probably cold by now, but there are a few pieces left.”
“Yes.” Castiel crossed the room to the small table with the cardboard box. Grabbing a piece as he’d seen Dean do in the past, he took a large bite of the slice. He was so hungry, and the taste was so incredible, that he couldn’t prevent the moan of pleasure from escaping.
He caught the strange look that Dean gave him, but Castiel didn’t care. He grabbed a second slice with his free hand and sat down next to Dean on the bed.
“Where did you go?” Dean asked after a moment, his attention still focused on his gun.
Castiel took another bite, focusing on the taste of the cheese and bread and sauce, and the feel of the air conditioning as it dried his sweat. “I just went for a walk.”
“Long walk.”
“Yes.” Castiel continued to eat steadily, his hunger slowly satiated.
“You can’t just take off like that.” Dean broke the silence after a long few minutes as he began to put the gun back together. “One of us had to stay here with Claire, and what if something had happened to you?”
Castiel wished he could assure Dean that he was self-sufficient, that he could take care of himself. He was not certain that was true.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”
Castiel finished his second slice of pizza, then eyed the box longingly.
“Finish it up,” Dean said. “You didn’t get dinner.”
Castiel did as he was told, still used to following orders, even if he had rebelled against heaven and everything he was.
“We should get some sleep,” Dean announced after Castiel had finished the pizza. “We have a long drive tomorrow.”
Castiel realized with a pang that Dean had stayed awake to wait for him, and that Dean would be the one who had to drive on only a few hours of sleep. “Dean, I’m sorry.”
“Forget it, Cas,” Dean replied gruffly. “It’s done.”
“You should take the bed,” Castiel said quickly.
“You had the floor last night.” Dean pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his bare back to Castiel, then stripping off his jeans.
Castiel cleared his throat. “The bed is big enough for both of us, Dean. If you kick, I don’t mind.”
Dean turned to look at him, and Castiel’s eye was caught in turn by the handprint on Dean’s shoulder, the tattoo on his chest, the new scars that hadn’t been there the last time Castiel had peered in on Dean half-dressed.
Dean’s eyes narrowed, and he appeared suspicious, although Castiel wasn’t certain why. “Yeah, alright. Just-don’t tell Sam, okay?”
“Of course.” Castiel didn’t know why Dean had asked that of him, but he readily agreed, not questioning why the idea of sharing the bed with Dean made him so happy.
Dean sighed. “Yeah, well, remember to brush your teeth.”
Castiel brushed his teeth and undressed, feeling strange as he climbed into bed next to Dean. He couldn’t see Claire over Dean’s still figure, and Castiel found he preferred that. For a moment, Castiel could pretend that it was just him and Dean.
Feeling Dean’s warmth so close to him caused Castiel to become aroused, and he had to exercise all his self-control to not touch himself. It was too risky, with Dean lying beside him, and Claire in a bed across the room.
Instead, Castiel stared up at the ceiling and thought about what Dean had said, about how being human didn’t suck.
Castiel added pizza to the list of reasons.
~~~~~
Dean woke up the next morning, feeling warmer than he had in a while. After a moment, he realized that there was a bare chest pressed up against his back, and an arm thrown across his waist. He knew that the appropriate reaction would be to jump out of bed, to berate Castiel for getting too close, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to move. He could feel Castiel’s warm breath on the back of his neck, and it was way more erotic than Dean thought it had any right to be.
Castiel’s arm tightened around Dean’s waist, and Dean felt Cas’ nose press closer to the back of his neck as he nuzzled Dean’s shoulder.
Dean drew in a deep breath, then released it, trying to control his reaction to Castiel’s proximity.
Closing his eyes, Dean relaxed, reveling in the sense in being so close to another human being. It had been a long time-not since a few weeks into the apocalypse, when his bedmate for the evening had tried to kill him.
He’d checked her for possession, of course, but she’d come up clean-and Dean had had a very narrow escape. He’d figured it was too dangerous to pick up random women after that-a decision which Sam had reinforced through his nagging, and they had been much too busy anyway.
Dean must have drifted off again, because when he opened his eyes, Claire was sitting cross-legged on the other bed, watching him and Castiel with narrowed eyes. Feeling his face flush deeply, Dean extricated himself from Castiel’s embrace.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
When Claire didn’t continue, Dean asked, “You okay?”
She nodded silently.
“You hungry?”
Claire tilted her head. “Yes,” she finally said after some consideration.
“Anything you want?”
“Pancakes?”
Dean grinned at her. “A woman after my own heart.”
Claire’s answering smile was a reward.
“Get dressed,” Dean advised. “We’ll pack up and grab breakfast before we head out.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, and Dean shook Castiel awake. “Cas, man. We have to go.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Dean realized that Castiel hadn’t had a nightmare for the first time since they’d found him in the field. “We need to get going.”
“Is there time for a shower?” Castiel asked sleepily.
“No, sorry, man. You can get a shower once we get back to Bobby’s.”
Castiel accepted Dean’s response without argument, rising to dress immediately. Dean decided that he could get used to this, since Sam seemed to argue with him all the time.
Castiel had just finished pulling his t-shirt over his head when Claire exited the bathroom, and they stared at one another in silence for a long time. “Hello, Claire,” Castiel finally said.
Claire stared at him, then turned to Dean. “Are we going to get breakfast soon?”
“Yeah, kid,” Dean replied, realizing that Claire was going to give Cas the silent treatment, which he knew sucked from experience.
Dean started to throw their clothing into a duffel bag, his and Cas’ stuff mixed together. He figured they could sort it out later; right now, Dean just wanted to get out of the hotel room-not that being in the car would be any better.
Small space, a traumatized kid who refused to speak to the guy wearing her dad’s face, and a traumatized angel who wasn’t quite certain he wanted to be human. Great.
The knock on the door interrupted his packing. “Housekeeping!”
“Come back in fifteen minutes,” Dean called out, stuffing a dirty shirt into his duffel.
Looking back later, Dean knew that he probably should have expected trouble; it had all been entirely too easy up to that point.
The door burst open as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and Dean had a split second to take in the sight of the two men and their black eyes. He had no idea where the knife was, which was definitely unlike him.
Castiel threw himself at the first man, narrowly avoiding the knife he was holding and scuffing the salt line in the process.
Dean swore. “Cas! Knife!”
“Bedside table!” Castiel managed to gasp.
Castiel was just barely holding his own, tangling the demon up in the doorway so the second one couldn’t get through. “In the bathroom, and lock the door!” Dean shouted at Claire.
She gave a little yelp, but she did as she was told. Dean threw himself across the bed and scrabbled in the drawer for the knife. The hilt felt as though it belonged in his hand, and he bolted towards Castiel.
Cas was hanging on for dear life, his split lip dripping blood on the floor. The demon managed to backhand Castiel, and he flew across the room and hit the wall. Dean stepped in, stabbing the demon in his stomach and twisting the knife. He tossed the body towards the other demon, but it only slowed him down for a split second.
The second demon strode into the room, and he seized Dean with his right hand by the throat, squeezing hard. With his left hand, he grabbed Dean’s wrist, and Dean could feel the bones in his arm grind together as the knife dropped from his nerveless fingers.
The demon suddenly released his throat, and Dean dropped to the floor, falling to one knee as he coughed, the demon collapsing in front of him, knife sticking out of the side of his neck. Dean glanced over at Castiel, who was on his knees next to Dean.
“Are you okay?” Castiel gasped out.
“Should be asking you that.” Dean took in Castiel’s injuries-the blood trickling down his temple and his chin, bruises already forming on pale skin. Dean held up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two,” Castiel grunted, then looked at the dead body on the floor. “That was a lucky shot,” he admitted.
“Lucky or not, it was a good one,” Dean said, clambering to his feet and extending a hand to Cas. “We need to get out of here before someone calls the cops.”
Castiel nodded. “I’ll get the bags.”
Dean knocked on the bathroom door. “Claire? It’s safe to come out now.”
“How do I know it’s really you?” she called through the flimsy wood.
It was a decent question, Dean had to admit. “You know how to tell if someone is possessed?”
“No.”
“You say christo, and see how they react.”
“You say Christ in Latin?”
“That’s right.”
“But you said it.”
“So, I must not be possessed, right?” Dean watched as the door swung slowly open, and he made sure that he was between her and the dead bodies. “Come on. Cas is loading up the car. We need to leave.”
Claire swallowed, and Dean could see the tear tracks on her face. “Are they dead?”
Dean didn’t see the point in lying to her, so he didn’t. “Yeah, kid, they’re dead, but it was better them than us.”
“How come the salt didn’t hold them back?”
“Salt lines aren’t perfect,” Dean replied. “Come on. Cover your eyes; I’ll get you out of here.” He wasn’t about to blame Cas in front of her, although he’d need to have a word with Castiel later about not sacrificing himself so readily.
Claire shook her head stubbornly. “I think they killed my mom. I want to see them dead.”
Dean couldn’t argue with the sentiment. He led her out of the motel room, towards the car. Castiel was already in the passenger seat, his head resting against the glass. Claire climbed into the backseat behind Cas, and as Dean walked around the car, he could hear her say, “Thank you.”
Dean knew that his smile matched the one that touched Cas’ lips.