Who : Ellen Harvelle and others (open to anyone who'd like to come through)
What : Celebrating the Roadhouse (version II)
When : The evening of March 20th
Rating : pg-ish, probably some language
Status : Ongoing
(
It wasn't home, but it was close enough for her )
Comments 76
His hand was still wrapped, if healing well. (Slower than he was used to, but well enough. The bandaging could be removed, most likely, but it was something of a two-handed job.) If nothing else, the wrapping reminded him not to really use the hand.
He pushed the door open and let himself in, taking in the interior before letting his gaze settle on Ellen. Granted, he had never seen the first Roadhouse, but this second one seemed fitting somehow. He nodded toward her in greeting and made his way to the bar.
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Before the angel could protest and before the bar filled with people, she wrapped Castiel up in a powerful embrace. “You’re looking good.” Ellen pulled back and grasped his shoulder with a grin. She didn’t want to embarrass him too much. “Come on, let me get you a drink.”
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"I am... up, yes." Looking good, he wasn't quite sure about. At least the bruises had faded. He couldn't quite muster a half-smile at the offer of the drink, but he did nod. "I'll take a drink."
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“Up is always a fair start, Cas. So what do you think?” she asked, gesturing vaguely around the place before leaning back and resting her elbows against the bar.
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"Hey. The place looks good."
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"Thanks. It's not quite like the old place, but I think it'll do just fine. C'mon, there's food in the back and plenty of beer. You'd best hurry up and grab some, Dean heard there's pie."
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"Food and beer? Now you're spoiling me." He laughed and started to walk towards the back.
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It was damned good having the boys around, Cas and Bobby too. The Roadhouse was starting to feel more like home with them talking and laughing in the bar. And if she didn't think about it too much, she could almost put Carthage out of her mind.
Almost.
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The hunter hadn't had a slice of pie since he got here and he damn well was wanting some. As he came through the door noisy as always there was a large grin on his face "Ellen! Tell me you have pie."
He walked over to the bar and hitched self up on a stool with a grin "And can I get a job?" Yes, the things that this place liked to play kept him busy, but a paying job in between might not be such a bad idea and Ellen was a boss who could keep him in line, so he figured it was worth a shot.
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"I got four of 'em Dean, just promise to save a little for everyone else," she said with a grin, sliding a beer over to him.
Her eyebrows shot up at the offer and she chuckled. "A job? Hm. Never had a Winchester workin for me, but so long as you think you can take orders." Well, if he didn't, she could always threaten to shoot him in the ass with a shotgun loaded with rocksalt. It worked on his father well enough.
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"Hey! I can take an order." Just how well he followed it was another thing, truth be told Dean was good at grunt work so to speak and being on hand at the road house served another purpose, he could keep an eye on Ellen and the people coming and going, be there if there was trouble.
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"I'm sure I'll find somethin to keep you occupied and out of trouble around here, Dean. Think you can manage to pour a decent drink? I don't expect much trouble, so I don't see much cause for a bouncer around here." It was better to give Dean a job and at least let him feel useful rather than having him lurk around the bar looking fidgety.
Besides, she could never deny the boys, not really. They were family.
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"I figured you'd probably be wanting this back," she said, reaching inside her jacket and drawing out his silver blade, thoroughly cleaned and polished to a mirror finish. She laid it carefully on the bar between them. "I found it where..." She glanced away. "Well. Where I didn't find you."She also figured she owed him a chance to say anything he might have on his mind about that. She still hadn't figured out how something as big and awkwardly put together as the 'sharktopus' kidnappers could have disappeared so quickly, but that was really beside the point. What mattered was that it had been faster than she was, and Castiel had paid a heavy price. Anna hoped he would believe that she had tried, but she labored under no illusions that ( ... )
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"Hi, Ellen," she said with a subdued smile. "The place is really nice. I'm sure it'll do great." She liked it better than any of the other bars she'd seen in town. Cleaner, quieter and less rowdy, among other things, though some of that was probably owing to the place's newness.
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"Hey Anna," she said, clearing a few empty glasses away from the bar so she could sit if she liked. "Thanks. It's a nice place. Not exactly like the original, but still," Ellen glanced towards the pool table and the Winchesters, "it's starting to feel like it. Can I get you something to drink?"
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"A beer, thanks," Anna said, sliding onto a stool. "I'm sorry I never got to see the original." She hadn't heard what happened to the first Roadhouse, but given the company Ellen kept, she was guessing it wasn't a happy story. "And sorry you got dragged to this place. Though I gotta say, it was really a lucky break for the guys." If Ellen hadn't shown up, she suspected she'd have brought Cas home to find the others held together with duct tape and super glue.
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Ellen sketched a shrug. She wasn’t sorry. “It beats being dead,” she glanced over to the pool table and the Winchesters, with a slanted, but affectionate smile, “and getting to spend time with family makes up for the monster attacks and general weirdness. Even if I did spend the first two days doing nothing but patching them all up.”
“Here’s hoping they get enough time to heal before I have to do it again,” she said, inclining her glass in Anna’s direction. The toast was a tradition after a hunt and she saw fit to keep it alive, even in the Underworld.
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