In which they discuss a few things.
“Don’t start that shit with me. You know how this works.”
“Right, right. This isn’t a democracy. Great way to inspire trust in the people you seem to want to lead.” Cas leaned back against the wall of the hut they were squatting in, giving Dean a pointed look over the faint smoke of the joint he’d just rolled. There was enough of a distance between the two of them that Dean could breathe without getting a second hand high. Not that Dean would have minded the high at this point-he was sure a good chunk of the people he was trying to protect at the moment might have liked him better if he was stoned, but he didn’t have the time. He needed to keep a clear head.
“Well, they need a leader, Cas. They need someone who knows what the hell this is and how to keep them safe. Considering that of the people who know what the Croatoan virus is, ninety percent are dead, and of the remaining ten half of them is being worn by the Devil. So what do you expect me to do?”
“Hey, I’m just saying you might not be the best guy for the job.”
“Oh, and you are? A stoned ex-angel?”
He scowled a bit at that. “I don’t want it.”
“I know you don’t. So you see how my options are limited, right?”
Cas fell silent after that, just focusing on what he was doing. He watched quietly as Cas took a drag of the joint, leaning back with his eyes closed as he started to exhale slowly. He wasn’t sure who had introduced Cas to pot, but that was a good thing because he still wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank him or punch him in the face. He knew his friend was hurting. He knew that despite the fact they had royally stabbed him in the back, he missed his brothers, and was disappointed that he never managed to find God. But the one thing that never changed was that Cas had always had Dean’s back, and that was never going to change, not even now.
Once he’d finished breathing through the initial buzz, he looked up at Dean under hooded eyes. “So where do we go from here, fearless leader? Got any kind of plan.”
From the tone he could tell that was a large chunk of sarcasm. Dean just gave him a look, before pulling out one of the warm beers from his bag and going to take a sip. “At the moment? Hunker down and lay low.”
Cas nodded slowly with a sigh, speaking with the joint half-way to his lips. “You know you won’t be able to save them, right?”
“Yeah, well-it’s war. People are gonna die.”
There was a slight pause as Cas looked over at him. “You know, there was a time when Dean Winchester saved an entire town of people from being blown off the face of the map, even though it ended in a seal being opened.”
“Yeah, well,” Dean sighed, his jaw tightening some as more memories came to the surface that left the taste of bile in his mouth. “Guess I learned my lesson.”
Cas was quiet for a moment, exhaling slowly. The joint was starting to burn low on his fingers and he took a breath before looking over at Dean. “Last hit. Take it or leave it.”
Dean glanced back at him for a moment, and he could feel it, the tension pulling his shoulders, weighing him down. He generally leaned on alcohol, and he knew that he should stick with that, but right now-he needed something a little more. And he had a feeling Cas knew that. He made his way over to him, sitting down on the floor next to him and reaching for the stub. He inhaled slowly, taking a deep breath of the smoke and then slowly starting to exhale, feeling a good part of the tension go with it-not all of it, but enough.
He tossed what was left of the stub to the floor, grinding it under his boot for a moment, and leaning back so that he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. “Whatever happens-you’ve still got my back, right?”
“Of course, Dean,” Cas replied, raising a bit of an eyebrow at him. “Where else am I going to go?”
“Right, right. This isn’t a democracy. Great way to inspire trust in the people you seem to want to lead.” Cas leaned back against the wall of the hut they were squatting in, giving Dean a pointed look over the faint smoke of the joint he’d just rolled. There was enough of a distance between the two of them that Dean could breathe without getting a second hand high. Not that Dean would have minded the high at this point-he was sure a good chunk of the people he was trying to protect at the moment might have liked him better if he was stoned, but he didn’t have the time. He needed to keep a clear head.
“Well, they need a leader, Cas. They need someone who knows what the hell this is and how to keep them safe. Considering that of the people who know what the Croatoan virus is, ninety percent are dead, and of the remaining ten half of them is being worn by the Devil. So what do you expect me to do?”
“Hey, I’m just saying you might not be the best guy for the job.”
“Oh, and you are? A stoned ex-angel?”
He scowled a bit at that. “I don’t want it.”
“I know you don’t. So you see how my options are limited, right?”
Cas fell silent after that, just focusing on what he was doing. He watched quietly as Cas took a drag of the joint, leaning back with his eyes closed as he started to exhale slowly. He wasn’t sure who had introduced Cas to pot, but that was a good thing because he still wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank him or punch him in the face. He knew his friend was hurting. He knew that despite the fact they had royally stabbed him in the back, he missed his brothers, and was disappointed that he never managed to find God. But the one thing that never changed was that Cas had always had Dean’s back, and that was never going to change, not even now.
Once he’d finished breathing through the initial buzz, he looked up at Dean under hooded eyes. “So where do we go from here, fearless leader? Got any kind of plan.”
From the tone he could tell that was a large chunk of sarcasm. Dean just gave him a look, before pulling out one of the warm beers from his bag and going to take a sip. “At the moment? Hunker down and lay low.”
Cas nodded slowly with a sigh, speaking with the joint half-way to his lips. “You know you won’t be able to save them, right?”
“Yeah, well-it’s war. People are gonna die.”
There was a slight pause as Cas looked over at him. “You know, there was a time when Dean Winchester saved an entire town of people from being blown off the face of the map, even though it ended in a seal being opened.”
“Yeah, well,” Dean sighed, his jaw tightening some as more memories came to the surface that left the taste of bile in his mouth. “Guess I learned my lesson.”
Cas was quiet for a moment, exhaling slowly. The joint was starting to burn low on his fingers and he took a breath before looking over at Dean. “Last hit. Take it or leave it.”
Dean glanced back at him for a moment, and he could feel it, the tension pulling his shoulders, weighing him down. He generally leaned on alcohol, and he knew that he should stick with that, but right now-he needed something a little more. And he had a feeling Cas knew that. He made his way over to him, sitting down on the floor next to him and reaching for the stub. He inhaled slowly, taking a deep breath of the smoke and then slowly starting to exhale, feeling a good part of the tension go with it-not all of it, but enough.
He tossed what was left of the stub to the floor, grinding it under his boot for a moment, and leaning back so that he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. “Whatever happens-you’ve still got my back, right?”
“Of course, Dean,” Cas replied, raising a bit of an eyebrow at him. “Where else am I going to go?”