A Cold and Broken Hallelujah - Part 5
After Dean left Castiel standing in the hallway he had carefully poked his head back into the meeting room, only to be met by a shrug of the shoulders from Morgan and a muttered “Don't ask me, I have no freaking idea what that was!” Castiel returned to his office and closed himself in, head thumping down on to the pale wood of his desk as he tried to figure out exactly why and how things had gone so swiftly wrong.
Gabriel had proved less than useful this time, having had no idea what could have set Dean off, but he did offer to try and look into the family history to see if he could pull out anything useful. Castiel had felt the tenuous connection between himself and Dean stretching and realised that Dean had left the city.
The self-help section of the local library also proved less than helpful. After spending a long afternoon, sat on the floor in front of the shelf of books, Castiel had finally settled on two pieces of somewhat helpful information. “Shared interests can often help a couple to bond,” and “Communication is key.”
Castiel had no idea what Dean's interests were but at least he could attempt to learn sign language. He also decided to research selective mutism to see if the condition was permanent. It would be really cruel of his Father to pair him with someone who could not fulfil the conditions and Castiel really did not think his Father hated them that much.
---II---
Dean slumped in his seat. He'd arranged to meet Castiel at Dante's Grill, neutral territory but still somewhere that Dean felt comfortable. He'd brought a notepad and a handful of Biro's and Vyx had raised an eyebrow when he had come in and laid them out on the table.
“Great American novel?”
Dean simply pulls a face at her and Vyx laughs merrily before she walks off to the kitchen, returning shortly with a cup of coffee and a slice of the pie she had just finished baking. Dean smiles and signs a Thank You before taking an appreciative sip.
Castiel walks in to see Dean, eyes closed in happiness as he raises the cup to plush lips. He watches as Dean takes another mouthful, lips curving upwards before he lowered the cup and looked up. He meets Castiel's gaze and Castiel sighs, feeling something inside of him curl up sadly as Dean's expression darkens, forehead creasing with a frown, lips pulling together tightly.
Tracey wanders out from the kitchen and spots him, paused halfway through the door.
“Oh hello again! Where's your friend today?”
Dean blinks in surprise and blatantly eavesdrops as Castiel stuttered out an explanation.
“Oh...um...Gabe, I mean Gabriel, is not with me today. I'm here to see Dean?” Castiel frowned at himself as his voice rose and Dean felt an odd urge to smooth the frown away.
“Oh, okay. You want a cup of coffee?” Tracey is already heading towards the kitchen as Castiel murmurs a thank you. Castiel pushes a hand nervously though his hair, before he heads towards the table Dean is sitting at and perches awkwardly on the seat opposite, hands resting on his thighs, back straight. Dean slouches even further in response to Castiel's stiff posture. They sit in silence until Tracey returns with another cup and fills it up as well as topping up Dean's cup.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Castiel's words are slow and tentative, and Dean is surprised again by the sound of his voice, the way it causes something to curl warm and heavy, in his stomach. He watches as Castiel looks nervously down at his cup, curling long fingers around the pale china. The blue gaze flickers back up to his face and Castiel's gaze flits over his face before fixing on a point slightly over Dean's shoulder.
“I suppose I should start with an explanation...”
Dean waves a hand to cut him off and scrawls across a page of the notebook.
Castiel looks down at the paper and then tries a tentative smile at Dean. It feels awkward and Castiel is sure it looks awkward but Dean doesn't get up and leave so Castiel takes it as a win and unwraps his hands from around the coffee cup. He indicates Dean and shakes his head before curling his hand into a fist and circling it in front of his chest. He follows that by indicating himself and making the 'sorry' sign again.
/You learnt signs for me?/
Castiel blinks and Dean repeats himself, slower this time.
“Yes, I am trying but I am still having problems with some of it.”
/Thank you/ Dean signs the word and pauses, some of his tight-held anger burning away and leaving him feeling out of place. /Tell me why you came see me?/
Castiel lets out a soft breath, and relaxes slightly. He takes his time thinking about what to say, he can't afford for Dean to leave again. “Yes, as you realised, I am an angel. I need you...” Castiel pauses, unsure how to continue on with the sentence. He suddenly realises that he cannot just ask Dean to fall in love with him, to stand up beside him in front of his Father. He looks up from the table to see Dean looking at him, one eyebrow raised and a slight smile curving up the corner of the mouth. Castiel feels something twist in his stomach and he looks at the coffee worriedly.
“Dean, is your coffee okay? I think something may be wrong with mine. Perhaps the waitress does not like me. She did not give me coffee the last time I was here with my brother.”
Dean's small smile widens into a grin and Castiel can do nothing but stare. /Tracey? Nah, she wouldn't poison the coffee./ Dean realises that Castiel is not paying attention to what he is saying and brings his hands up in front of his face. He talks slowly, smirking at the flush that traces across Castiel's cheekbones. Unsettling an angel of the Lord is amusing Dean no end and it shifts the balance of power enough to let Dean relax.
/Perhaps this would go better with alcohol?/ Castiel looks confused at the last sign and Dean signs /Beer/ instead.
“Brown? Why would this go better with brown? Brown what?” Dean sighs, a soft gust of air and pulls the notepad back round in front of him.
Castiel flushes a deeper shade of pink and chews nervously at his lower lip. Dean fights the urge to stare at it as it pops back out, pink and damp. He jerks up from the table, gathering his notepad and stuffing the handful of Biros into a pocket of the jacket that he rescues from the back of the chair. He tucks a couple of notes under his cup and waves a goodbye to Tracey.
Castiel follows meekly after Dean as he heads through into the bar next door. The room is mostly empty, still early in the evening. A couple of guys are sitting at one of the high tables, watching the sports news as it plays quietly on the big screen at the back. Dean heads straight for the bar, smiling wide at the bartender, who grins back.
“Early today Dean. Usual?” Dean replies by holding up two fingers, waving a hand carelessly in Castiel's direction. The bartender glances over at Castiel, taking in the shirt and tie, moving up to the slightly mussed, dark hair, plush lips and deep blue eyes that are currently focused somewhere in the region of Dean's shoulders.
“My, my, my! Hello handsome. Not your usual type Dean, but on a scale of zero to ten I'd give him one.”
Dean snorts at the old joke, before shaking his head at Dave. “Oh like that is it? Well, it's about time.” Dean shakes his head again, pulls his notepad out and scrawls untidly.
“Well, I'll keep them coming. And if he needs help with anything else...” Dave smiles at Castiel over Dean's shoulder, waving his fingers coyly at him. Dean blinks as he feels a sudden urge to curl his hand around Castiel possessively. He grabs the two bottles of beer and scowls. It isn't helped by the cackle from Dave that follows him as he heads back towards Castiel.
Dean leads Castiel to one of the booths along the far wall, sliding across the worn vinyl seat. Once Castiel has slid in opposite Dean passes him one of the bottles of beer and raises his own in a silent salute.
“May I ask why you changed your mind and agreed to meet with me?”
/Spoke to my brother, Sam. He said I should at least hear you out. He thinks that you lot are here to make things better. That true?/
Castiel has been focused intently on Dean's gestures and it startles Dean when he raises those deep blue eyes and turns that focus on Dean's face. Dean can feel his hand creeping up to rub at the back of his neck and stifles the nervous gesture. Castiel stares at Dean for a long moment; Dean freezes under the gaze, feeling somewhat like a mouse trapped by a very attractive snake. The end of that thought makes Dean want to giggle and he blinks, breaking the spell.
“I don't know how much you know about how we came to be here...” Castiel pauses and Dean gives a half-shrug /Know a little, but nothing specific/ Dean has to finger-spell the last word, not knowing the sign, even if there is one and he watches as Castiel works out the word.
Castiel told Dean about his Father returning, furious with his children. “I barely recall what happened when Lucifer was exiled, but I think it must have been similar, although probably less dramatic. Our Father was displeased with us and so He reached for Michael and Raphael. I think the other choices were random, I cannot think why He would single out myself or Anael. We could all feel His disappointment in us.”
Castiel trails off as the memories flooded through him, darkening his eyes with the remembered grief he felt at his Father's displeasure and sad disappointment.
/He sent you here/.
“Apparently we have not been taking proper care of His creation and now we have to prove to Him that we can care for it. We have been trying to fulfil our Father's wishes but it is harder than we thought.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, encouraging Castiel to continue.
“My brothers and I, we have been answering prayers, helping to repair the world, even though some things are beyond our skills.”
/So, you're what, saving geckos and rescuing kittens from trees?/
Castiel rolls his eyes, a gesture he has seen Gabriel employ more than once when one of his brother's has replied with a response he deemed ridiculous. He wants to smile when he sees the corners of Dean's mouth turn up in a small smirk.
“Actually, , in a manner of speaking. But much more than that. We have a bigger challenge that we have to meet. We have...”
Castiel is cut off as a dark-haired woman comes up to their table.
“Dean, darling. What a surprise finding you here.” Even Castiel can spot the sarcasm in the woman's precise English accent. He watches as Dean slouched back in his seat, legs widening and eyes raking up and down the woman's body in a blatant perusal.
“What, no witty repartee, no stinging come back? Oh,” The woman's face forms an expression of mock sadness. “I totally forgot your sad and inconvenient affliction. Such a shame, you always were such a font of wit and wisdom.”
Dean clicks his fingers, drawing Castiel's attention to his hands. He keeps an eye on Bela as he spells out /Tell the bitch it's no surprise, when you hang out in bars you have to expect the occasional rat./ Once Dean had finished his rant to Castiel he reaches for the notepad and pen that had been left on the table and begins to scrawl.
“Excuse me,” Castiel turns his face to the woman. Bela spins on her high heels and her smile widens as she pays proper attention to Castiel. A graceful hand smooths over the neckline of her blouse before she holds it out in greeting.
“Why hello. I'm Bela and you are?”
“Castiel. Dean would like me to tell...”
“I'm sure if Dean wants to tell me something he can scribble it down with his crayons. So, are you in the same line of work as Dean?”
Another click brings Castiel's gaze swinging back to Dean /Don't tell her what you are!/ Dean emphasises the request with a frown and a shake of his head.
“Not really, I guess you would say I am perhaps middle-management. We are just sharing a drink and some conversation. How do you know Dean?”
Bela smirks at Dean and slides down on to the seat next to Castiel, her smile turning more flirtatious as she turns her attention again to Castiel. Dean adds something to the top of his page before pushing it across the table towards Bela.
“Oh Dean. How I've missed you and your faith in humanity. You have no idea what my 'clientèle' require. And I find your opinion of me hurtful. Gold-digger, indeed.” The hand that Bela had pressed to her chest dramatically, flutters downwards to rest gently on Castiel's arm.
“So you wanted to know how I know Dean. We shared a mutual interest in some acquisitions a while back. Dean acquired something, I wanted it...and okay, maybe things went a little south after that...but all's fair in love and war or so they say.”
/A little south? You stole it. Left us in a cemetery after we had the shit kicked out of us./
Castiel blinks at Dean's exclamation before turning back to Bela.
“Dean expresses doubts as to the truth of your statement.”
Bela's head tips backwards with a tinkling laugh. “Oh, I'll just bet he does.”
Dean pulls the notebook back towards him and begins to write again. After a couple of lines he rises to his feet, shrugging on his coat. He pulls the page from the book and lets it flutter gently to the table before turning on his heel and making his way to the door. Castiel's hand reached the page first and he turns it round, dark gaze absorbing the words quickly.
Castiel's gaze flickers to Bela again, before he folds the paper and slides it into his jacket pocket. “It was...interesting to meet you Bela, but please excuse me.” Castiel gets to his feet and leaves without a second glance. Bela sinks back into her seat and stares at the table for a moment, surprised and amused, before her gaze wanders around the club. She would find someone, somewhere that would be willing to pay for what she had.
On to Part Six
Gabriel had proved less than useful this time, having had no idea what could have set Dean off, but he did offer to try and look into the family history to see if he could pull out anything useful. Castiel had felt the tenuous connection between himself and Dean stretching and realised that Dean had left the city.
The self-help section of the local library also proved less than helpful. After spending a long afternoon, sat on the floor in front of the shelf of books, Castiel had finally settled on two pieces of somewhat helpful information. “Shared interests can often help a couple to bond,” and “Communication is key.”
Castiel had no idea what Dean's interests were but at least he could attempt to learn sign language. He also decided to research selective mutism to see if the condition was permanent. It would be really cruel of his Father to pair him with someone who could not fulfil the conditions and Castiel really did not think his Father hated them that much.
---II---
Dean slumped in his seat. He'd arranged to meet Castiel at Dante's Grill, neutral territory but still somewhere that Dean felt comfortable. He'd brought a notepad and a handful of Biro's and Vyx had raised an eyebrow when he had come in and laid them out on the table.
“Great American novel?”
Dean simply pulls a face at her and Vyx laughs merrily before she walks off to the kitchen, returning shortly with a cup of coffee and a slice of the pie she had just finished baking. Dean smiles and signs a Thank You before taking an appreciative sip.
Castiel walks in to see Dean, eyes closed in happiness as he raises the cup to plush lips. He watches as Dean takes another mouthful, lips curving upwards before he lowered the cup and looked up. He meets Castiel's gaze and Castiel sighs, feeling something inside of him curl up sadly as Dean's expression darkens, forehead creasing with a frown, lips pulling together tightly.
Tracey wanders out from the kitchen and spots him, paused halfway through the door.
“Oh hello again! Where's your friend today?”
Dean blinks in surprise and blatantly eavesdrops as Castiel stuttered out an explanation.
“Oh...um...Gabe, I mean Gabriel, is not with me today. I'm here to see Dean?” Castiel frowned at himself as his voice rose and Dean felt an odd urge to smooth the frown away.
“Oh, okay. You want a cup of coffee?” Tracey is already heading towards the kitchen as Castiel murmurs a thank you. Castiel pushes a hand nervously though his hair, before he heads towards the table Dean is sitting at and perches awkwardly on the seat opposite, hands resting on his thighs, back straight. Dean slouches even further in response to Castiel's stiff posture. They sit in silence until Tracey returns with another cup and fills it up as well as topping up Dean's cup.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Castiel's words are slow and tentative, and Dean is surprised again by the sound of his voice, the way it causes something to curl warm and heavy, in his stomach. He watches as Castiel looks nervously down at his cup, curling long fingers around the pale china. The blue gaze flickers back up to his face and Castiel's gaze flits over his face before fixing on a point slightly over Dean's shoulder.
“I suppose I should start with an explanation...”
Dean waves a hand to cut him off and scrawls across a page of the notebook.
Castiel looks down at the paper and then tries a tentative smile at Dean. It feels awkward and Castiel is sure it looks awkward but Dean doesn't get up and leave so Castiel takes it as a win and unwraps his hands from around the coffee cup. He indicates Dean and shakes his head before curling his hand into a fist and circling it in front of his chest. He follows that by indicating himself and making the 'sorry' sign again.
/You learnt signs for me?/
Castiel blinks and Dean repeats himself, slower this time.
“Yes, I am trying but I am still having problems with some of it.”
/Thank you/ Dean signs the word and pauses, some of his tight-held anger burning away and leaving him feeling out of place. /Tell me why you came see me?/
Castiel lets out a soft breath, and relaxes slightly. He takes his time thinking about what to say, he can't afford for Dean to leave again. “Yes, as you realised, I am an angel. I need you...” Castiel pauses, unsure how to continue on with the sentence. He suddenly realises that he cannot just ask Dean to fall in love with him, to stand up beside him in front of his Father. He looks up from the table to see Dean looking at him, one eyebrow raised and a slight smile curving up the corner of the mouth. Castiel feels something twist in his stomach and he looks at the coffee worriedly.
“Dean, is your coffee okay? I think something may be wrong with mine. Perhaps the waitress does not like me. She did not give me coffee the last time I was here with my brother.”
Dean's small smile widens into a grin and Castiel can do nothing but stare. /Tracey? Nah, she wouldn't poison the coffee./ Dean realises that Castiel is not paying attention to what he is saying and brings his hands up in front of his face. He talks slowly, smirking at the flush that traces across Castiel's cheekbones. Unsettling an angel of the Lord is amusing Dean no end and it shifts the balance of power enough to let Dean relax.
/Perhaps this would go better with alcohol?/ Castiel looks confused at the last sign and Dean signs /Beer/ instead.
“Brown? Why would this go better with brown? Brown what?” Dean sighs, a soft gust of air and pulls the notepad back round in front of him.
Castiel flushes a deeper shade of pink and chews nervously at his lower lip. Dean fights the urge to stare at it as it pops back out, pink and damp. He jerks up from the table, gathering his notepad and stuffing the handful of Biros into a pocket of the jacket that he rescues from the back of the chair. He tucks a couple of notes under his cup and waves a goodbye to Tracey.
Castiel follows meekly after Dean as he heads through into the bar next door. The room is mostly empty, still early in the evening. A couple of guys are sitting at one of the high tables, watching the sports news as it plays quietly on the big screen at the back. Dean heads straight for the bar, smiling wide at the bartender, who grins back.
“Early today Dean. Usual?” Dean replies by holding up two fingers, waving a hand carelessly in Castiel's direction. The bartender glances over at Castiel, taking in the shirt and tie, moving up to the slightly mussed, dark hair, plush lips and deep blue eyes that are currently focused somewhere in the region of Dean's shoulders.
“My, my, my! Hello handsome. Not your usual type Dean, but on a scale of zero to ten I'd give him one.”
Dean snorts at the old joke, before shaking his head at Dave. “Oh like that is it? Well, it's about time.” Dean shakes his head again, pulls his notepad out and scrawls untidly.
“Well, I'll keep them coming. And if he needs help with anything else...” Dave smiles at Castiel over Dean's shoulder, waving his fingers coyly at him. Dean blinks as he feels a sudden urge to curl his hand around Castiel possessively. He grabs the two bottles of beer and scowls. It isn't helped by the cackle from Dave that follows him as he heads back towards Castiel.
Dean leads Castiel to one of the booths along the far wall, sliding across the worn vinyl seat. Once Castiel has slid in opposite Dean passes him one of the bottles of beer and raises his own in a silent salute.
“May I ask why you changed your mind and agreed to meet with me?”
/Spoke to my brother, Sam. He said I should at least hear you out. He thinks that you lot are here to make things better. That true?/
Castiel has been focused intently on Dean's gestures and it startles Dean when he raises those deep blue eyes and turns that focus on Dean's face. Dean can feel his hand creeping up to rub at the back of his neck and stifles the nervous gesture. Castiel stares at Dean for a long moment; Dean freezes under the gaze, feeling somewhat like a mouse trapped by a very attractive snake. The end of that thought makes Dean want to giggle and he blinks, breaking the spell.
“I don't know how much you know about how we came to be here...” Castiel pauses and Dean gives a half-shrug /Know a little, but nothing specific/ Dean has to finger-spell the last word, not knowing the sign, even if there is one and he watches as Castiel works out the word.
Castiel told Dean about his Father returning, furious with his children. “I barely recall what happened when Lucifer was exiled, but I think it must have been similar, although probably less dramatic. Our Father was displeased with us and so He reached for Michael and Raphael. I think the other choices were random, I cannot think why He would single out myself or Anael. We could all feel His disappointment in us.”
Castiel trails off as the memories flooded through him, darkening his eyes with the remembered grief he felt at his Father's displeasure and sad disappointment.
/He sent you here/.
“Apparently we have not been taking proper care of His creation and now we have to prove to Him that we can care for it. We have been trying to fulfil our Father's wishes but it is harder than we thought.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, encouraging Castiel to continue.
“My brothers and I, we have been answering prayers, helping to repair the world, even though some things are beyond our skills.”
/So, you're what, saving geckos and rescuing kittens from trees?/
Castiel rolls his eyes, a gesture he has seen Gabriel employ more than once when one of his brother's has replied with a response he deemed ridiculous. He wants to smile when he sees the corners of Dean's mouth turn up in a small smirk.
“Actually, , in a manner of speaking. But much more than that. We have a bigger challenge that we have to meet. We have...”
Castiel is cut off as a dark-haired woman comes up to their table.
“Dean, darling. What a surprise finding you here.” Even Castiel can spot the sarcasm in the woman's precise English accent. He watches as Dean slouched back in his seat, legs widening and eyes raking up and down the woman's body in a blatant perusal.
“What, no witty repartee, no stinging come back? Oh,” The woman's face forms an expression of mock sadness. “I totally forgot your sad and inconvenient affliction. Such a shame, you always were such a font of wit and wisdom.”
Dean clicks his fingers, drawing Castiel's attention to his hands. He keeps an eye on Bela as he spells out /Tell the bitch it's no surprise, when you hang out in bars you have to expect the occasional rat./ Once Dean had finished his rant to Castiel he reaches for the notepad and pen that had been left on the table and begins to scrawl.
“Excuse me,” Castiel turns his face to the woman. Bela spins on her high heels and her smile widens as she pays proper attention to Castiel. A graceful hand smooths over the neckline of her blouse before she holds it out in greeting.
“Why hello. I'm Bela and you are?”
“Castiel. Dean would like me to tell...”
“I'm sure if Dean wants to tell me something he can scribble it down with his crayons. So, are you in the same line of work as Dean?”
Another click brings Castiel's gaze swinging back to Dean /Don't tell her what you are!/ Dean emphasises the request with a frown and a shake of his head.
“Not really, I guess you would say I am perhaps middle-management. We are just sharing a drink and some conversation. How do you know Dean?”
Bela smirks at Dean and slides down on to the seat next to Castiel, her smile turning more flirtatious as she turns her attention again to Castiel. Dean adds something to the top of his page before pushing it across the table towards Bela.
“Oh Dean. How I've missed you and your faith in humanity. You have no idea what my 'clientèle' require. And I find your opinion of me hurtful. Gold-digger, indeed.” The hand that Bela had pressed to her chest dramatically, flutters downwards to rest gently on Castiel's arm.
“So you wanted to know how I know Dean. We shared a mutual interest in some acquisitions a while back. Dean acquired something, I wanted it...and okay, maybe things went a little south after that...but all's fair in love and war or so they say.”
/A little south? You stole it. Left us in a cemetery after we had the shit kicked out of us./
Castiel blinks at Dean's exclamation before turning back to Bela.
“Dean expresses doubts as to the truth of your statement.”
Bela's head tips backwards with a tinkling laugh. “Oh, I'll just bet he does.”
Dean pulls the notebook back towards him and begins to write again. After a couple of lines he rises to his feet, shrugging on his coat. He pulls the page from the book and lets it flutter gently to the table before turning on his heel and making his way to the door. Castiel's hand reached the page first and he turns it round, dark gaze absorbing the words quickly.
Castiel's gaze flickers to Bela again, before he folds the paper and slides it into his jacket pocket. “It was...interesting to meet you Bela, but please excuse me.” Castiel gets to his feet and leaves without a second glance. Bela sinks back into her seat and stares at the table for a moment, surprised and amused, before her gaze wanders around the club. She would find someone, somewhere that would be willing to pay for what she had.
On to Part Six