Be it ever so humble..

[roadhouse_mama]

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

Comments

[to_rebel]

"I never saw the old place," he murmured as he once again looked around. It did suit her, and her lifestyle. Nothing fancy, utilitarian, and sturdy. He liked it. His gaze flicked upward at the mention of a place above the bar and he nodded. He did like to know where 'his' people were living; it helped him maintain peace of mind. (He probably shouldn't tell them that he kept track of their comings and goings as much as he could.)

He knocked back the shot at her offer and set the glass down with a quiet thunk on the bar. "I will remember that." He knew full well what she was saying but, as much as he liked Ellen, he found himself unwilling to speak. He barely had the wherewithal to speak much to Dean, of all people. It wasn't that he did not appreciate the thought; he would rather not burden Ellen with more knowledge than necessary.

Although, come to think of it...

He (gingerly) rested his right hand on the bar after a moment's consideration. It was healed enough to do without the bandaging, as long as he was careful. The bones had knit, for the most part; if he didn't use the hand much for another handful of days, it would be fine.

And the wrapping was beginning to itch.

"I believe this has healed enough that the bandages are superfluous." He paused, then added in a slightly wry tone: "I could use a hand."

[roadhouse_mama]

It wasn’t as if she expected him to take her up on it, but the offer had been made and unlike with the Winchesters or Bobby, she wouldn’t press the issue. Getting Cas to talk when he wasn’t in the mood was near impossible, so for the moment she let it drop.

That got him an amused snort. The shot glasses were refilled first, and then a clean bar towel was spread on the bar between them. Ellen removed a small medical kit from behind the bar; just like the old days, she kept the place well supplied for any emergency. A small, but very sharp pair of silver scissors made quick work of the bandages. Before Castiel could pull his hand back, she lifted it gently and examined the healing with a critical eye.

“I’d give it another few days before you try anything too drastic with it,” she advised. While she didn’t know that much about angelic healing capabilities, the terrible breaks in his hand had mended with surprising speed. It didn’t take much on her part to estimate that only a few days more would leave the hand completely healed.

[to_rebel]

"Noted," he said, already thinking along the same lines. His hand was still sore, still healing, and he absolutely did not want to re-injure himself. He'd fully expected Ellen to examine the hand, and so did not protest when she caught it.

As quickly as Ellen thought it was healing, it was almost excruciatingly slow for Castiel. Gingerly, he pulled his hand from Ellen's grasp and flexed it slowly. Definitely still very sore. He couldn't help the mild disgust that flashed across his features before he settled his hand on his thigh. It shouldn't be taking days for it to heal. When he'd broken his wrist fighting the Sam clone, it had taken minutes.

"Thank you," he said mildly as he reached for the now-full shot glass.

[roadhouse_mama]

"Stop bein so impatient, Cas. It'll heal."

Ellen tossed back her own glass and gave him a smile of mingled affection and exasperation. "Honestly, I can't tell who's a worse patient, you or Dean. Both of you tryin to take on the whole world by yourselves most days."

[to_rebel]

"Yes, it will." He frowned. "Slowly." Far more slowly than he was used to. He downed the shot instead of actually answering her. He couldn't actually deny that, not without sounding like he was trying too hard.

Instead, he turned his attention to the rest of the bar as he set the shot glass down. Better to just take in his surroundings than argue a moot point.

[roadhouse_mama]

They could have argued the point further, but there was little sense in it. Instead Ellen simply lingered near the bar, refilling his glass when he needed it. Sometimes, it was nice to just sit and enjoy the quiet of a friend's presence.