Have a Little Faith (Part 2)
Title: Have a Little Faith (2/?)
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG
Genre: Pre-slash, Case Fic
Word Count: ~1500
Spoiler: Season 6
Warning: Profanity
Summary: Cas helps Dean and Sam on their case and gets some much needed talking in with Dean. Dean, however, isn’t really comfortable with the topic.
Have A Little Faith Masterpost
They seated themselves in a corner booth out of earshot of the few dozen locals that were hanging out by the bar. Dean ordered them each a shot of Jack Daniel’s and a beer to start. While he was waiting for their drinks to arrive he began to explain the case to him.
“Ok, so we have the nine victims, like I said. They are all mixed ethnicities, ages, genders, and so on, so there doesn’t appear to be a link there. This made us think that it could be a nest of vampires because if it were one there might be more of a resemblance among the victims. But still, nine victims in two weeks meant it wasn’t a very big nest. Or at least not a very hungry one. But now that we know it isn’t the stupid blood suckers…” Dean waved his hands in the air in frustration and left his sentence hanging.
Dean’s cell phone beeped with the arrival of a new text message. It was from Sam. “Hold on a second.”
“called bobby, he said: chupacabra?” the message read.
“Cas, you said ‘no dangerous supernatural creatures,’ right?”
“Yes.”
“And a ‘Chupacabra’ is a ‘dangerous supernatural creature,’ right?”
“Of course, Dean.”
Dean texted back, “no supernatural creatures dumbass,” and set the phone on the table.
Sam texted back, “jerk.”
Dean responded, “bitch” and he tucked the phone back into his pocket.
By then their drinks arrived and Dean swallowed the shot instantly, allowing him to hand the empty glass back to the waitress before she left. He winked at her as she took it from him and walked away. He took the bottle of beer in hand and took a sip before returning his attention to Castiel.
For a moment the angel looked as though he was going to just relax and enjoy himself, but then he launched right back into the case. “Can you go over the details of the victims?”
Dean sighed. “I don’t remember all the details, but…” and the angel was gone in a flutter of wings before he could finish. “Dammit!” He looked around and was grateful that the corner booth provided them some privacy. Nobody had seemed to notice Cas’ little vanishing act.
About five seconds later the angel was back with the stack of files from the motel room. “Next time you need to zap away try to go somewhere private first. The last thing we need is to draw attention to ourselves.”
“Archangels have the power to alter memories. I assure you it isn’t a concern.”
“Still, why bother? Just, please, do it for me? OK?” He wasn’t sure why, but the angel seemed to bend over backwards for him and this request was pretty minor compared to, say, pulling him from hell.
“Very well. Next time.” He opened the top folder and began to fan out the notes across the table.
“Doesn’t Sam need these?”
“He was occupied with pornography and no longer required these files.” Dean laughed at that, but Castiel continued to organize the victim profiles in chronological order without the slightest hint of amusement. He was far too involved with the case to notice human concepts such as ‘humor’ or ‘incredibly awkward situations.’
Cas’ expression took on the serious look he wore when he meant business. It was the only look that really unnerved Dean. The poor guy never really had a grasp on human facial expressions and the intensity in his eyes in these moments eliminated any possibility of passing as one. When Dean watched him long enough he could almost see the power circulating in his eyes, like his grace was going to shoot through them and light the table on fire.
Then the expression changed as he looked up at Dean and the angel broke his silence. “Both of the victims drained from the wrists were young women. Beyond that there is no pattern.”
“Told you, it’s pretty random.”
“Perhaps the answer lies with these two victims,” he said as he pointed to the two victim profiles.
Dean began to nurse his beer, which brought Cas’ attention to his own drinks. He swallowed the shot in one swift motion and then mimicked Dean’s own casual grasp on the bottle. He took a small sip and set it out of the way of the paperwork before them.
“You still have that badge I gave you a couple years ago?”
Cas reached into his jacket pocket to check. He honestly didn’t know since he hadn’t had a reason to reach into that pocket since his second resurrection. He pulled it out and held it up the way Dean had shown him how so long ago. He was sure to have the picture and badge on top this time.
“I can’t believe God resurrected my fake ID along with you. That’s ridiculous.” Castiel folded it up and put it back into his pocket. “All right, we’ll go interview the families tomorrow.” He finished off the beer and gestured for two more drinks from the waitress.
Cas continued to study the papers while Dean slammed back his second beer of the night. Castiel kept pace with him, but he wasn’t even feeling a buzz. Even when he was nearly human it took an entire liquor store for him to get drunk. Now he was even more removed from being human and he wasn’t sure all the alcohol on Earth would be enough to get him intoxicated. He liked the feeling of being inebriated, but he didn’t care much for the headaches afterward.
Dean’s typically high alcohol tolerance was lessened slightly due to his empty stomach. Having a shot and two beers in less than thirty minutes had him just a couple steps passed ‘buzzed’ and well on his way to ‘smashed.’ If the apocalypse were still on the horizon he most likely would have kept going, but as things were now he didn’t feel the need to drink himself into oblivion. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
“What time did you wish to interview the families of the victims?”
“Figured we’d leave the motel around 9:00am, why?”
“There is a matter in Heaven I need to tend to.”
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course. Do you need to leave now?”
“No, I can stay for a while longer.
“Good.” It was conversations like these that made Dean remember exactly what he was dealing with here. Sometimes he’d forget he was buddies with the guy who was kind of running Heaven and his case probably seemed like small fries compared to with what was on his plate.
“I’m here because I want to be here, Dean.”
“You reading my mind again? Told you to stay out of my head.”
“I don’t need to read your mind to feel your emotions. Our bond makes it impossible to ignore.”
Dean huffed and averted his eyes. He wasn’t exactly sure what this ‘bond’ was. They’d been through a lot together and besides Sam, Cas was best friend and most trusted ally. But the way Cas talked about it made it sound more deeply ingrained than he could even begin to comprehend. It sounded downright spiritual.
“I can feel that too, Dean.”
“Dammit, you really can’t back the fuck off?”
“No. I can’t control this. Not with you.”
And that was damn awkward. Dean pulled out his wallet and set a few twenties on the table. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got to get up early tomorrow anyway.”
They headed back to the motel room mostly in silence. Dean kept a little more distance between him and Cas than they had on their way to the bar, slightly taken back by the revelation that Cas could feel everything he did. He knew the angel could read minds, but he figured he could shut it on and off like a switch. Now he felt like he had to keep his emotions in check just to maintain some privacy.
“I’m sorry this makes you uncomfortable.”
“Dammit, this is exactly why it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not big on the chic-flick ‘let’s talk about our feelings’ crap.”
“You don’t have to talk about it. I can feel it.” And that didn’t make Dean feel any better at all. And Cas knew it.
When they got to the motel room door Dean knocked loudly and shouted, “Sam, get decent. We’re coming in.”
He opened the door to find Sam sitting at the dining room table with his laptop wearing his Bitch Face. Dean just laughed at him and took off his coat.
Cas walked to the center of the room and looked between the two brothers. “I’ll return tomorrow morning. Good bye.”
He vanished and Sam and Dean looked at each other. “What do you know, you can teach an old angel new tricks,” Dean said. “Son of a bitch actually learned to say ‘good bye.’”
Bonus: Sam's Unfortunate Encounter Ficlet
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG
Genre: Pre-slash, Case Fic
Word Count: ~1500
Spoiler: Season 6
Warning: Profanity
Summary: Cas helps Dean and Sam on their case and gets some much needed talking in with Dean. Dean, however, isn’t really comfortable with the topic.
Have A Little Faith Masterpost
They seated themselves in a corner booth out of earshot of the few dozen locals that were hanging out by the bar. Dean ordered them each a shot of Jack Daniel’s and a beer to start. While he was waiting for their drinks to arrive he began to explain the case to him.
“Ok, so we have the nine victims, like I said. They are all mixed ethnicities, ages, genders, and so on, so there doesn’t appear to be a link there. This made us think that it could be a nest of vampires because if it were one there might be more of a resemblance among the victims. But still, nine victims in two weeks meant it wasn’t a very big nest. Or at least not a very hungry one. But now that we know it isn’t the stupid blood suckers…” Dean waved his hands in the air in frustration and left his sentence hanging.
Dean’s cell phone beeped with the arrival of a new text message. It was from Sam. “Hold on a second.”
“called bobby, he said: chupacabra?” the message read.
“Cas, you said ‘no dangerous supernatural creatures,’ right?”
“Yes.”
“And a ‘Chupacabra’ is a ‘dangerous supernatural creature,’ right?”
“Of course, Dean.”
Dean texted back, “no supernatural creatures dumbass,” and set the phone on the table.
Sam texted back, “jerk.”
Dean responded, “bitch” and he tucked the phone back into his pocket.
By then their drinks arrived and Dean swallowed the shot instantly, allowing him to hand the empty glass back to the waitress before she left. He winked at her as she took it from him and walked away. He took the bottle of beer in hand and took a sip before returning his attention to Castiel.
For a moment the angel looked as though he was going to just relax and enjoy himself, but then he launched right back into the case. “Can you go over the details of the victims?”
Dean sighed. “I don’t remember all the details, but…” and the angel was gone in a flutter of wings before he could finish. “Dammit!” He looked around and was grateful that the corner booth provided them some privacy. Nobody had seemed to notice Cas’ little vanishing act.
About five seconds later the angel was back with the stack of files from the motel room. “Next time you need to zap away try to go somewhere private first. The last thing we need is to draw attention to ourselves.”
“Archangels have the power to alter memories. I assure you it isn’t a concern.”
“Still, why bother? Just, please, do it for me? OK?” He wasn’t sure why, but the angel seemed to bend over backwards for him and this request was pretty minor compared to, say, pulling him from hell.
“Very well. Next time.” He opened the top folder and began to fan out the notes across the table.
“Doesn’t Sam need these?”
“He was occupied with pornography and no longer required these files.” Dean laughed at that, but Castiel continued to organize the victim profiles in chronological order without the slightest hint of amusement. He was far too involved with the case to notice human concepts such as ‘humor’ or ‘incredibly awkward situations.’
Cas’ expression took on the serious look he wore when he meant business. It was the only look that really unnerved Dean. The poor guy never really had a grasp on human facial expressions and the intensity in his eyes in these moments eliminated any possibility of passing as one. When Dean watched him long enough he could almost see the power circulating in his eyes, like his grace was going to shoot through them and light the table on fire.
Then the expression changed as he looked up at Dean and the angel broke his silence. “Both of the victims drained from the wrists were young women. Beyond that there is no pattern.”
“Told you, it’s pretty random.”
“Perhaps the answer lies with these two victims,” he said as he pointed to the two victim profiles.
Dean began to nurse his beer, which brought Cas’ attention to his own drinks. He swallowed the shot in one swift motion and then mimicked Dean’s own casual grasp on the bottle. He took a small sip and set it out of the way of the paperwork before them.
“You still have that badge I gave you a couple years ago?”
Cas reached into his jacket pocket to check. He honestly didn’t know since he hadn’t had a reason to reach into that pocket since his second resurrection. He pulled it out and held it up the way Dean had shown him how so long ago. He was sure to have the picture and badge on top this time.
“I can’t believe God resurrected my fake ID along with you. That’s ridiculous.” Castiel folded it up and put it back into his pocket. “All right, we’ll go interview the families tomorrow.” He finished off the beer and gestured for two more drinks from the waitress.
Cas continued to study the papers while Dean slammed back his second beer of the night. Castiel kept pace with him, but he wasn’t even feeling a buzz. Even when he was nearly human it took an entire liquor store for him to get drunk. Now he was even more removed from being human and he wasn’t sure all the alcohol on Earth would be enough to get him intoxicated. He liked the feeling of being inebriated, but he didn’t care much for the headaches afterward.
Dean’s typically high alcohol tolerance was lessened slightly due to his empty stomach. Having a shot and two beers in less than thirty minutes had him just a couple steps passed ‘buzzed’ and well on his way to ‘smashed.’ If the apocalypse were still on the horizon he most likely would have kept going, but as things were now he didn’t feel the need to drink himself into oblivion. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
“What time did you wish to interview the families of the victims?”
“Figured we’d leave the motel around 9:00am, why?”
“There is a matter in Heaven I need to tend to.”
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course. Do you need to leave now?”
“No, I can stay for a while longer.
“Good.” It was conversations like these that made Dean remember exactly what he was dealing with here. Sometimes he’d forget he was buddies with the guy who was kind of running Heaven and his case probably seemed like small fries compared to with what was on his plate.
“I’m here because I want to be here, Dean.”
“You reading my mind again? Told you to stay out of my head.”
“I don’t need to read your mind to feel your emotions. Our bond makes it impossible to ignore.”
Dean huffed and averted his eyes. He wasn’t exactly sure what this ‘bond’ was. They’d been through a lot together and besides Sam, Cas was best friend and most trusted ally. But the way Cas talked about it made it sound more deeply ingrained than he could even begin to comprehend. It sounded downright spiritual.
“I can feel that too, Dean.”
“Dammit, you really can’t back the fuck off?”
“No. I can’t control this. Not with you.”
And that was damn awkward. Dean pulled out his wallet and set a few twenties on the table. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got to get up early tomorrow anyway.”
They headed back to the motel room mostly in silence. Dean kept a little more distance between him and Cas than they had on their way to the bar, slightly taken back by the revelation that Cas could feel everything he did. He knew the angel could read minds, but he figured he could shut it on and off like a switch. Now he felt like he had to keep his emotions in check just to maintain some privacy.
“I’m sorry this makes you uncomfortable.”
“Dammit, this is exactly why it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not big on the chic-flick ‘let’s talk about our feelings’ crap.”
“You don’t have to talk about it. I can feel it.” And that didn’t make Dean feel any better at all. And Cas knew it.
When they got to the motel room door Dean knocked loudly and shouted, “Sam, get decent. We’re coming in.”
He opened the door to find Sam sitting at the dining room table with his laptop wearing his Bitch Face. Dean just laughed at him and took off his coat.
Cas walked to the center of the room and looked between the two brothers. “I’ll return tomorrow morning. Good bye.”
He vanished and Sam and Dean looked at each other. “What do you know, you can teach an old angel new tricks,” Dean said. “Son of a bitch actually learned to say ‘good bye.’”
Bonus: Sam's Unfortunate Encounter Ficlet