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]

The alcohol was not really helping matters, but it seemed that everywhere Castiel went, someone was offering it. He didn't have it in himself to turn it down, not when he could focus on drinking with friends rather than speaking with friends. At any rate, he'd been nursing this particular drink for a good long time now, without a refill. He knew better than to overdo it. (Maybe.)

He set the glass down, surprised when she laid the blade on the bar. "I thought they'd taken it." He knew he'd dropped it -- that was when his hand had first been injured -- but he'd simply assumed that whatever had taken him had gathered up his weapon as well.

In lieu of actually addressing the issue she brought up, however obliquely, he took the blade, noted its shine, and carefully hid it away again. He knew she'd come, as soon as he'd called, but it hadn't been enough. He couldn't blame her, as much as he perhaps was inclined to. He wasn't sure he could even blame himself for calling for help too late. "I did not think," he finally said, "that it would be quite so fast."

There was a part of him that wanted to blame her; he'd finally asked her for help and the end result was the same. He'd been dragged away, once again. That sort of blame, though, was unfair to them both. The fact remained that he'd simply asked for help too late. "I knew you came, in that instant." It wasn't quite absolution, but neither was it blame.

[grace_optional]

"I'm glad you called." She paused, and added quickly, "We might never have found that, otherwise." And it might have been a while before anyone had realized he was missing, which, while it may have made little difference in the final outcome, just...felt wrong. In retrospect, odd as it seemed, she preferred to have spent that time in the frantic, futile search than oblivious.

"They're really fast. Someone definitely did their homework." As always seemed to be the case, there was plenty of blame to be placed, but for once it seemed neither of them was obliged to claim it.

What a concept.

She nodded, a faint, slightly rueful smile touching her lips. That was actually more than she had hoped for, so here was Anna, not quibbling. (Small victories.) The tense set of her shoulders eased a little. "As quick as I could. I promised." Or, well, she'd strongly implied it, in backhanded fashion, and counted it as such.

Her gaze drifted to the Winchesters. At least she'd been marginally more successful at honoring her other promise. "And I tried to keep them safe for you. They don't make it easy, do they?"

[to_rebel]

His answer was a noncommittal hum as he spun the glass idly. He supposed he could understand why she'd be glad he called; perhaps 'glad' was the wrong word here. Grateful, maybe, but even that wasn't quite right. They both knew he wouldn't have called if the situation weren't rapidly approaching dire.

In this case, it had shot past dire and into impossible before he'd called for help. If he thought he'd had time, he would have put out a call to Dean and Sam, but communication with Anna was far more immediate. On one hand, he shouldn't have waited to call for help. On the other, if that thing was strong enough to grab him without trouble, then he was glad he hadn't put anyone else in danger.

He let the subject go, for now, unwilling to hash out the details with her. He'd called too late, she'd shown up too late. It was simple. (Except nowhere near it.)

Following her gaze to the Winchesters, he snorted ruefully. "They make it impossible." But his tone was mild and there was a quiet sort of fondness buried in it. He didn't look at her when he spoke to her next. He'd made a request of her and, even if he barely remembered doing so, she'd offered him a peace of mind he'd desperately needed at the time. "Thank you for that."

She had honored that request and deserved acknowledgment. The rest could be sorted out later.

[grace_optional]

There wasn't really a 'right' word; any she might have chosen required a hundred qualifiers, but she wasn't much interested in dwelling over the details either.

She dropped her gaze. In all honesty, he hadn't needed to ask. She would have looked out for Dean, Sam and the others as best she could anyway; they were her friends, too, and she'd needed no reminding how important they were to him. But if it had given him any kind of comfort to know that she was bound by her word to him as well, then let him have that and welcome. "My pleasure," was all she said aloud.

Falling silent a moment, she decided she couldn't ask for a much better place to close the conversation. "Anyway. That was pretty much it. I didn't mean to spoil your peace and quiet, I'll just get out of your hair. You know where I'll be, if..." She trailed off and shrugged, leaving the statement open to interpretation, and moved off to say a proper hello and congratulate Ellen on her new place.

[to_rebel]

She hadn't spoiled his peace and quiet, though her presence always brought with it things he didn't necessarily want to think about. He took a quick draw from the glass as she started to leave.

"Anna." And he paused there as he set the glass back down. He glanced at her, not quite turning to face her. "If you call, I will come."

With that, he turned his attention back to the glass.

[grace_optional]

Anna faltered, half-turning, unprepared for that and unsure at first how to respond.

"I'll remember," she said finally. Things were so complicated. But he'd at least taken the chance that she might keep her promise; she didn't see how she could do any less.