The Mornings After The Nights Before 3/8/12
Castiel looked out the window of the motel room. Taking in the small town piece by piece, analyzing it, scanning it for signs. He’d been searching for the Winchesters for weeks. Moments like these, when he had to scour through every disgusting motel that crossed his path, are when he regretted coating their ribs in protective etchings. Castiel took one last look at the last room; the one he’d hoped would contain his missing friends. His missing charge, he corrected himself in his head. He’s known he’d been getting too close to the Winchesters for quite some time. Too close to Dean especially. He shook his head; there was no time for this now. He had to keep his head clear, remember his mission. After all, that’s what got him into this mess in the first place. He had forgotten his place and betrayed his brothers and sisters. He couldn’t do that ever again, Castiel had never experienced such pain as the looks of disappointment that had surrounded him when he was called home. But now he was back, given a second chance and he wouldn’t fail this time. Suddenly he heard a car door slam outside, flying to the window he looked down longing for his search to be over. But it was just a fat, worn out looking couple. No doubt the heat has caused them to stop. Castiel’s vessel was sweating profusely, stinging his eyes if he wasn’t careful. Wiping his brow he took one final scan of the room and flew off.
***
Across the country Dean woke with a start. For some reason he thought he heard the flutter of wings, a sound he’d heard countless times before and trained himself to recognize. He did a quick scan of the room; no one but Sam was there. Pulling on a t-shirt he walked over to the window and carefully opened the curtains. Nothing but the half filled parking lot. Dean walked back to his bed, but didn’t get in. He just sat on the edge, staring at the door, willing it to open and Castiel to step through so he could say everything that he had wanted to say before. Dean swallows, pushing hard against the rock lodged in his throat. He knows the truth. Cas won’t be back. Hell, he can’t even find them anymore thanks to the etchings on his and Sam’s ribs. Dean knows he can’t just go find a spell or demon to bring him back, he can’t make a deal and he can’t fix it. For the first time in a long time Dean can’t see a way out. He can’t think of anything that will bring his friend back. He needed Castiel. Needed? Dean paused his thoughts there, since when did he need anyone? Wasn’t he the one who took care of everything? He was the strong one, and now all of a sudden he needed some puppy-eyed angel in a trench coat? This made no sense. Dean got up and went over to the counter and finished off the fifth of whiskey he had hidden behind the motel’s fridge. Too much thinking, back to bed Dean told himself. Dizzily he slumped back under the covers and passed out but not before taking one last long look at the door.
***
Castiel was hearing whispers now. The other angels had learned to trust him again, meaning they were less careful about what they chose to say around him. For days now he’d been hearing about the Winchesters. How they were still stomping around the country, trying to figure out where Lilith would strike next. Castiel knew that they were nothing without an angel in their company. He wanted to prove himself to them again. He’d remembered how he felt in the motel room the last time he had gone looking for the Winchesters. He knew that he couldn’t deny the bond that he felt towards Dean. It was… profound. However, he would never be allowed to accompany them once again without proving himself loyal first. For that he would have to work hard. But he could already feel himself rising to a prominent position in the garrison once again. Just a little bit longer and he’d be back with his family. Wait, wasn’t he already with his family? Castiel thought about this, it’s true that these were his flesh and blood brothers and sisters. However, the more Castiel thought about it, the more he started to realize that heaven was not where his heart truly lied. He loved his brothers and sisters, but they were not what Castiel had come to know family to be. The Winchesters were his true family. They had taught Castiel more about bond and brotherhood than his millenniums with his real family had ever hinted at. Castiel felt his chest swell; he had to get back to Earth.
***
Three weeks. Three weeks, two days, and four hours since Castiel had disappeared. Dean had been counting ever since the night in the motel room. He wasn’t sure why, it just felt important to remember. Every night he would stay up late watching the night pass by from the window of whichever cheap motel the brothers had wandered into. He tried to leave signs, or make their presence a little more pronounced than he really should. He wanted to make it easier for Cas to find them. Sam noticed the shift in his brother’s behavior and when Dean had his back turned, he would examine him with concerned looks. Sam had tried to talk to Dean about the situation, but Dean wouldn’t talk. He’d just sulk off and nurse whichever bottle of alcohol he had on him that day. To be honest, Dean didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t sure if that was the alcohol talking or if he had just lost too many people close to him. He knew Cas was out there somewhere. Dean would find him no matter how long it took and bring him back. Dean would fix it, like he always did. As he pulled the Impala up to an especially promising diner Dean took a quick survey of the surrounding town. Across the street at the bus station his eyes locked on a figure. Dressed in a tan trench coat and cheap suit the figure stared back at Dean. His jaw dropped. He shut the engine off so fast he almost broke the key off in the ignition. But when Dean finally scrambled out of the seat he was gone. “Cas.” Dean whispered, a tear swelling in his eye. “Dean?” Sam asked, concern pouring out of his eyes. “Nothing,” Dean chuckled, “just seeing things. Shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night!” He knew he wasn’t seeing things though. He knew what he saw.
***
Castiel’s heart was pounding. He found them. He’d been following sings of the Winchesters for days. Wondering if they were for him, considering Dean rarely left even a whisper of their whereabouts behind. He knew where they would be headed. Up the road there was a diner, Castiel remembered Dean’s fondness for food. Urging himself to meet them there he went as far as the corner across the street and stopped. Dean’s words the last time they had met had not been of particular kindness. Castiel wondered how much the Winchesters would actually want him back. After leaving them for so long, would they remember the good that Castiel had tried to do for them? Or would they cast him out of their lives? This was the first time he had considered the possibility of an unfriendly welcome. The thoughts stopped him from moving an in when he saw the Impala pull up. Dean spotted him almost immediately. Castiel froze. What was he doing here? This is stupid. He saw the panic in Dean’s eyes, or was it fear? Rage? Castiel couldn’t be sure form the distance but he knew he wasn’t ready for whatever was coming his way. He flexed his wings and flew before Dean had the chance to exit the car. He would come back later, when he had time to process, to think. Later that night, exactly nine hours and forty-two minutes from the bus stop, Castiel found himself outside of the motel. Their motel. He couldn’t work up the nerve to find his way inside. He didn’t need to though, because he saw the curtains draw. He saw Dean’s face, he knew the expression on it, and he knew that this was the beginning of his fight to keep his family.