Castiel is in the bar, but his mind is in a hospital room somewhere in Ohio.
He sits staring at a cup of coffee he’d ordered solely to make himself look occupied. Outwardly, he appears to have been carved from an especially inexpressive stone.
Inwardly, his thoughts are something akin to atoms in a nuclear reactor.
[OOC: Plotlocked this time
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At least that's what Dean's thinking as he storms in the door. Seeing your little brother use freaky-ass mind powers to exorcise demons --
Seeing goddamn Ruby again -- and who the fuck knows how she got the new meatsuit --
If he doesn't get some time on his own to figure out what the fuck to do, some bad shit is gonna go down. And there's no guarantee that ain't gonna happen anyway.
Then he catches sight of Castiel, the angel that seems to be right at the root of this whole fucking mess.
Well, hell.
He hesitates for a second, torn between throwing down and sneaking away like a pussy. Except -- fuck that shit.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
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Whose brother he has not so indirectly threatened.
Castiel blinks a bit. It is not so much an expression of surprise as it is a slight outward sign that his mind is switching gears.
"Dean."
He inclines his head slightly.
"I suppose it was inevitable that we would meet here."
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Patience and Dean are not close friends at the best of times, and these are really not the best of times.
"What, playing stalked by an angel back home ain't enough, you've gotta bring it in here, too?"
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And, technically, they have met here before, after a fashion. Though Dean's mind was apparently in no shape to remember it.
Castiel's voice is clipped.
"I was led to this place some time ago. And the circumstances had nothing to do with you."
Though he knows that, in the Grand Scheme of Things, it is highly likely that this statement is not true--that his order to come to Milliways may have Dean Winchester right at the heart of it--lack of patience spurs the comment.
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