Fic: Take The Wheel 2/4 (Supernatual; Dean/Jimmy/Cas, NC-17)
Fic Title: Take The Wheel ( Art Masterpost)
Author: misachan
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Dean/Jimmy/Cas
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2530
Warnings: Torture in part 4, language, guilt over adultery
Summary: There aren't too many positives about agreeing to be strapped to a comet, but one of the bigger ones is that Castiel at least manages to keep Jimmy asleep and unaware most of the time - so when Jimmy suddenly finds himself wrenched awake mid-battle he knows this has to be a bad sign. Their attacker is a wild card in the angelic war, one who believes she's the only one truly fighting for the humans, and to that end she's developed a new weapon: a way to enchant her sword so that it can kill an angel without having to sacrifice the vessel. And she's made Castiel her first test. With Castiel wounded Jimmy's forced to take control, and he and Dean set off on a desperate road trip to the security of Bobby's safe room.
Dean drives fast, but angels are faster.
(A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta aerilex and awesome artist lennymechs!)
The second time they almost veered into incoming traffic Jimmy suggested that Dean pull over and get at least a few hours of sleep. Dean grumbled for five more miles, insisting that he was fine and drove all night all the time, no problem, still arguing even as he pulled into an exit and started cruising for a cheap motel.
They finally pulled into the parking lot of a dingy building Jimmy thought had last been painted around the Carter administration, yellowing paint peeling in sheets and the V and A burned out of the blinking VACANCY sign out by the road. Jimmy pressed one hand against his chest as he dragged himself out of the car; Castiel had been quiet for the past few hours but the steady, throbbing ache hadn't eased up at all. Jimmy told himself he didn't care what the motel looked like as long as it had a bed.
That lasted until they got into the lobby and Jimmy felt like he'd just been attacked by the ghost of the '70s. The carpet was a hideous gold and green paisley pattern and the walls were painted a color he guessed at one time had been burnt orange. Dime store chandeliers dangled overhead, swaying in the air conditioning, and if Dean hadn't already been up at the counter Jimmy would have suggested that maybe taking a nap in the car wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Jimmy joined Dean up front, where the desk clerk was squinting at the fake ID Dean had provided. Her hair was dyed almost the same precise shade of orange as the walls and suddenly Jimmy could hear his grandmother scolding him that it wasn't polite to stare. "You got another one?" she asked Dean, snapping her gum as she held the ID up to the light. "The name on the credit card is spelled different from the one here."
Dean looked around at what passed for décor and said, "Seriously?" The clerk just gave him a withering glare, drumming her nails on the counter, and Dean dug out another card. "There? Happy?"
"This isn't real," she said, handing them back to Dean with one eyebrow raised, and Jimmy knew it was wrong but he almost couldn't help laughing at the flummoxed look on Dean's face. Jimmy guessed it would figure this would happen now.
He took a quick glance at the counter, saw a handmade pencil mug and a picture of what he would guess was one of the clerk with a passel of grandchildren and felt years of sales conferences come rushing back. Always connect with the client. "Excuse me, are those your children? What great looking kids."
Her face lit up. "My grandkids," she said, tilting the picture up.
"I would never have guessed," Jimmy said, giving her a smile. He'd never really liked flirting with clients, but once upon a time he'd been good at it. "Is there something I can do to clear up this problem? We've been driving all night."
She gave the two of them an up-and-down look. Jimmy knew they didn't really look like they belonged together and frankly she was looking at Dean as if she'd started to wonder if he'd kidnapped Jimmy. It amused Jimmy for a second that no one had leapt to that conclusion when Dean actually had kidnapped him. "Can we talk for a second?" Jimmy said, nodding his head to indicate the need for some privacy. She nodded, shuffling over to the side of counter and Jimmy leaned in on his elbows. "It was the ID, wasn't it." She nodded and Jimmy let out an exaggerated sigh. "I told the agency it wouldn't be good enough."
A few hours earlier he'd found a fake FBI badge in his pocket with his picture in it; he hadn't dared ask Dean how that had happened but he flashed the thing now, knowing she was buying it when that impressed look flashed across her face. "The gentleman over there," he said, nodding towards Dean, "is part of witness protection and I have to escort him back to D.C. They only gave me those temporary IDs for him and if I call my captain this time of night he's going to have my head. Can you please help me out?" He desperately hoped they she hadn't seen the car they'd pulled up in or noticed that wasn't a marshal's badge because either of those would have blown his bluff right out of the water.
Fortunately, she patted his hand and Jimmy knew she'd go along. Maybe he still had the touch.
A few minutes later Jimmy had a room key in hand and he dragged Dean back toward the room before either of them could say anything to mess this up. "Dude. That was awesome. For a second there I thought we were going to have to make a run for it."
"I'm a salesman, Dean. I mean, I don't usually lie like that at work but I know how to schmooze people."
Something about that made Dean crack up. "It's just weird. I'm used to Cas not knowing how to tell a lie with an instruction manual."
Jimmy decided to take that as compliment. He opened the door and was actually staggered by the sheer ugliness of the room in front of him.
The floor was covered with a stained, yellowish carpet; the wallpaper was peeling in places, showing older, even uglier wallpaper beneath, like a Russian nesting doll of bad design, and there was a dingy, cracked mirror over a television that was bolted down to the cabinet holding it. "Dean, this place looks like someone's last known location."
"Yeah? Man, you should see some of the places we've slept in, this looks like a palace." He opened the minifridge and pulled out a beer, downing it in one swallow. "I'm gonna head out and get some chow. You want anything?"
Jimmy thought he could eat the bedspread with enough ketchup. "Whatever you're getting, grab me two of it."
"Sounds like a plan. Be right back."
Jimmy didn't even hear him; he didn't bother taking off his coat and barely got around to kicking off his shoes before stretching out on one of the beds.
He heard a voice whisper don't fall asleep but he was out cold before he could even think about questioning why.
***
Jimmy almost dropped the dish he'd been wiping down when he felt Amelia's arms wrap around him. "Did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you cook breakfast?"
Jimmy grinned, ignoring how there was something...wrong about this, something about how the words turned strange and fragile when the thought about them, like remembering lines from an old movie. He pushed that aside and turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Why do you think I do it?" She nipped at his lower lip and they heard Claire groan at the table behind them. "We're traumatizing our daughter."
"Oh no, she has loving parents. How ever will she cope?"
She took some of the leftover blueberries and popped them into her mouth, grinning when Jimmy kissed her again. "So what are your plans today?"
Amelia sighed. "I'm doing battle with the PTA. If I kill one of them, you'll be my alibi, right?"
"Just don't do it in the house, Ames. We'll never explain that away." He wanted to tell her not to go, in fact he was desperate to tell her that, although he couldn't imagine why. She'd be home at five, the way she always was. "Do you have to leave?" he said anyway, holding on probably a little too tight.
She straightened his tie. "I'll bring home dinner," she said, an apology in her voice. "Make sure Claire gets to ballet," she said before kissing him on the cheek, shouldering her purse and walking out the door.
Jimmy sighed as he finished putting the dishes away, trying to ignore the feeling that he'd just lost something. "Hey, bub, you want to sneak some more pancakes now that your mom's gone?" There was no answer and Jimmy turned around, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. "Kiddo, you okay?"
"Daddy, don't you love us anymore?"
Jimmy dropped what he was doing and pulled up a chair, sitting right next to her. "Claire, of course I do. I love you and your mom more than anything."
"Then why do you keep going away?"
Jimmy sighed. "I have to sometimes, I'm sorry. I have to...." Jimmy trailed off, not sure what he was about to say. Work? Maybe, but he'd had that conversation with Claire long ago, when she was much smaller than this. It didn't feel right. "It's important."
"You could say no."
Something about those words crawled along the inside of his skull. "Say no to what, Claire?"
"All you have to do is say no. Then you could be home all the time. Why won't you?"
Jimmy heard a sound like a beat of wings and dug his nails into the arm of the chair. "Who are you?" The only response was silence. "Who are you?" Jimmy growled out, feeling his heart start to race. "Claire wouldn't ask me that, she knows why I don't say no. She understands."
"I'm sorry," Claire said, but not in her voice, one older and deeper. When she looked up Claire's eyes were brown instead of blue and Jimmy staggered back so quickly the chair tumbled over. "I thought you would listen to a familiar face."
"You don't use my daughter. You understand? She stays out of all of this."
"He would," she said, rising from the chair and approaching him. "If you ever became unsuitable he would use her without question. Without hesitation." Jimmy saw a line form down the center of Claire's forehead, almost like a seam; as he watched it grew wider until the skin began to peel away. Jimmy felt his stomach lurch as Rahmiel stepped out of his daughter's skin like a discarded suit and put one hand against his chest. "He would steal her life and use her up, the way he did yours. I'm trying to save you from that. Save all of you."
"So what about you? You're not wearing your own face either, are you?"
Her brows drew together. "Regrettably, no." This close he could see the madness burning in her eyes. "This was supposed to be something beautiful, you know. A union between our Father's two favorite creations, and what do we use it for?" Her lips curled down, twisting that beautiful face into a sneer. "Violence. Murder. Bloodshed." She kissed him and it took everything Jimmy had not to gag. "We taught you war, using your own bodies. That sin tainted all of us. It's the true reason our Father left us." She traced one manicured finger along his lips. "You'll understand. Once I've cleansed you you'll thank me, and with my brother gone this ruinous war will end."
"If you like humans so much why do you want Raphael to win? He wants to end the world."
"Oh, I have plans for him too." She kissed him again, a slow, lingering kiss as if she was relishing every second of it. "Once I burn the infection from you'll understand everything."
She was too strong for Jimmy to push away; he could hear the sound of someone screaming in pain, someone with his voice. "Stop it," he said, shoving her hard to try to make an opening. "Let us go."
Rahmiel put one hand over his mouth and he could feel the heat radiating from her. "Hush now, darling. Let me take care of you." Suddenly, blessedly, he saw irritation cross her face and she drew away. "We'll talk more later," she said, kissing his cheek just the way Amelia had before she left.
The next thing he knew was opening his eyes to see Dean shaking him awake. "Jimmy! Wake up!" he shouted, so loud Jimmy felt his ears ring.
"'m awake," he said, startled at how heavy his limbs felt.
He felt Dean cradle his head. "What happened? Focus."
"Shouldn't...fallen asleep," he murmured, his eyes too heavy to keep open. "Tried to warn me."
"Angels can fuck with you in your dreams, I should've warned you myself." Jimmy felt Dean's thumb along the line of his jaw. "You gotta stay awake, buddy."
"Trying." The full impact of what had happened was only just beginning to hit him. "She was talking to me. She made me think she was Claire."
He saw fury make Dean's eyes go dark. "Cas okay in there?"
Jimmy rubbed his chest and shook his head. "He hurts. She tried...." He couldn't talk for a second, the horror of watching Rahmiel walk out of his daughter's skin hitting him like a hammer. "Said she was burning out an infection."
"That must be why you're running a fever this bad. Can Cas hear me?"
Jimmy couldn't keep back the sad smile. "Dean, he always hears you."
He saw emotion flood through Dean's eyes, then Dean kissed him, a slow, careful kiss, so different from the one out by the car that Jimmy felt strange calling them the same word. Jimmy couldn't help kissing him back, letting Dean's lips and tongue soothe the nightmare just the way he was soothing the pain away from Castiel. When Dean finally pulled back Jimmy knew the disappointment he felt wasn't only coming from the angel. "That help him out?" Dean said. "Like last time?" Jimmy nodded and he felt Dean press one hand against his forehead. "Good. Now let's get your fever down before you cook."
He felt Dean haul him off the bed and start to ease him out of his clothes as he dragged him to the motel shower. "Should make you buy me a drink first."
It felt good to hear Dean laugh, even a laugh as scared as this one. "Shouldn't have already let me get to first base then."
***
One ice-cold shower later the fever wasn't quite broken but it wasn't dangerous anymore. Dean had told him that he'd watch him if he dozed off but Jimmy didn't want to ever sleep again, and anyway, Dean needed the sleep more than he did. He picked at the burger Dean had brought him, not trusting his stomach to keep anything down, giving Dean the rest. When Dean fell asleep mid-bite Jimmy cleared away the trash and lay down beside him, telling himself Cas would feel better next to Dean.
"Huh. Now I'm calling you Cas, too," he said to no one in particular. He felt a flush of warmth that told him the angel wasn't all that upset about that. When Dean shifted in his sleep and threw one arm across his waist Jimmy didn't move it away, telling himself that was for Castiel's benefit, too. Apparently he could lie to himself all night.
He lay there until dawn, listening to Dean breathe and wondering just how far in over his head he was going to get before all this was over.
go to part 3
back to masterpost
back to part 1
Author: misachan
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Dean/Jimmy/Cas
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2530
Warnings: Torture in part 4, language, guilt over adultery
Summary: There aren't too many positives about agreeing to be strapped to a comet, but one of the bigger ones is that Castiel at least manages to keep Jimmy asleep and unaware most of the time - so when Jimmy suddenly finds himself wrenched awake mid-battle he knows this has to be a bad sign. Their attacker is a wild card in the angelic war, one who believes she's the only one truly fighting for the humans, and to that end she's developed a new weapon: a way to enchant her sword so that it can kill an angel without having to sacrifice the vessel. And she's made Castiel her first test. With Castiel wounded Jimmy's forced to take control, and he and Dean set off on a desperate road trip to the security of Bobby's safe room.
Dean drives fast, but angels are faster.
(A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta aerilex and awesome artist lennymechs!)
The second time they almost veered into incoming traffic Jimmy suggested that Dean pull over and get at least a few hours of sleep. Dean grumbled for five more miles, insisting that he was fine and drove all night all the time, no problem, still arguing even as he pulled into an exit and started cruising for a cheap motel.
They finally pulled into the parking lot of a dingy building Jimmy thought had last been painted around the Carter administration, yellowing paint peeling in sheets and the V and A burned out of the blinking VACANCY sign out by the road. Jimmy pressed one hand against his chest as he dragged himself out of the car; Castiel had been quiet for the past few hours but the steady, throbbing ache hadn't eased up at all. Jimmy told himself he didn't care what the motel looked like as long as it had a bed.
That lasted until they got into the lobby and Jimmy felt like he'd just been attacked by the ghost of the '70s. The carpet was a hideous gold and green paisley pattern and the walls were painted a color he guessed at one time had been burnt orange. Dime store chandeliers dangled overhead, swaying in the air conditioning, and if Dean hadn't already been up at the counter Jimmy would have suggested that maybe taking a nap in the car wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Jimmy joined Dean up front, where the desk clerk was squinting at the fake ID Dean had provided. Her hair was dyed almost the same precise shade of orange as the walls and suddenly Jimmy could hear his grandmother scolding him that it wasn't polite to stare. "You got another one?" she asked Dean, snapping her gum as she held the ID up to the light. "The name on the credit card is spelled different from the one here."
Dean looked around at what passed for décor and said, "Seriously?" The clerk just gave him a withering glare, drumming her nails on the counter, and Dean dug out another card. "There? Happy?"
"This isn't real," she said, handing them back to Dean with one eyebrow raised, and Jimmy knew it was wrong but he almost couldn't help laughing at the flummoxed look on Dean's face. Jimmy guessed it would figure this would happen now.
He took a quick glance at the counter, saw a handmade pencil mug and a picture of what he would guess was one of the clerk with a passel of grandchildren and felt years of sales conferences come rushing back. Always connect with the client. "Excuse me, are those your children? What great looking kids."
Her face lit up. "My grandkids," she said, tilting the picture up.
"I would never have guessed," Jimmy said, giving her a smile. He'd never really liked flirting with clients, but once upon a time he'd been good at it. "Is there something I can do to clear up this problem? We've been driving all night."
She gave the two of them an up-and-down look. Jimmy knew they didn't really look like they belonged together and frankly she was looking at Dean as if she'd started to wonder if he'd kidnapped Jimmy. It amused Jimmy for a second that no one had leapt to that conclusion when Dean actually had kidnapped him. "Can we talk for a second?" Jimmy said, nodding his head to indicate the need for some privacy. She nodded, shuffling over to the side of counter and Jimmy leaned in on his elbows. "It was the ID, wasn't it." She nodded and Jimmy let out an exaggerated sigh. "I told the agency it wouldn't be good enough."
A few hours earlier he'd found a fake FBI badge in his pocket with his picture in it; he hadn't dared ask Dean how that had happened but he flashed the thing now, knowing she was buying it when that impressed look flashed across her face. "The gentleman over there," he said, nodding towards Dean, "is part of witness protection and I have to escort him back to D.C. They only gave me those temporary IDs for him and if I call my captain this time of night he's going to have my head. Can you please help me out?" He desperately hoped they she hadn't seen the car they'd pulled up in or noticed that wasn't a marshal's badge because either of those would have blown his bluff right out of the water.
Fortunately, she patted his hand and Jimmy knew she'd go along. Maybe he still had the touch.
A few minutes later Jimmy had a room key in hand and he dragged Dean back toward the room before either of them could say anything to mess this up. "Dude. That was awesome. For a second there I thought we were going to have to make a run for it."
"I'm a salesman, Dean. I mean, I don't usually lie like that at work but I know how to schmooze people."
Something about that made Dean crack up. "It's just weird. I'm used to Cas not knowing how to tell a lie with an instruction manual."
Jimmy decided to take that as compliment. He opened the door and was actually staggered by the sheer ugliness of the room in front of him.
The floor was covered with a stained, yellowish carpet; the wallpaper was peeling in places, showing older, even uglier wallpaper beneath, like a Russian nesting doll of bad design, and there was a dingy, cracked mirror over a television that was bolted down to the cabinet holding it. "Dean, this place looks like someone's last known location."
"Yeah? Man, you should see some of the places we've slept in, this looks like a palace." He opened the minifridge and pulled out a beer, downing it in one swallow. "I'm gonna head out and get some chow. You want anything?"
Jimmy thought he could eat the bedspread with enough ketchup. "Whatever you're getting, grab me two of it."
"Sounds like a plan. Be right back."
Jimmy didn't even hear him; he didn't bother taking off his coat and barely got around to kicking off his shoes before stretching out on one of the beds.
He heard a voice whisper don't fall asleep but he was out cold before he could even think about questioning why.
***
Jimmy almost dropped the dish he'd been wiping down when he felt Amelia's arms wrap around him. "Did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you cook breakfast?"
Jimmy grinned, ignoring how there was something...wrong about this, something about how the words turned strange and fragile when the thought about them, like remembering lines from an old movie. He pushed that aside and turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Why do you think I do it?" She nipped at his lower lip and they heard Claire groan at the table behind them. "We're traumatizing our daughter."
"Oh no, she has loving parents. How ever will she cope?"
She took some of the leftover blueberries and popped them into her mouth, grinning when Jimmy kissed her again. "So what are your plans today?"
Amelia sighed. "I'm doing battle with the PTA. If I kill one of them, you'll be my alibi, right?"
"Just don't do it in the house, Ames. We'll never explain that away." He wanted to tell her not to go, in fact he was desperate to tell her that, although he couldn't imagine why. She'd be home at five, the way she always was. "Do you have to leave?" he said anyway, holding on probably a little too tight.
She straightened his tie. "I'll bring home dinner," she said, an apology in her voice. "Make sure Claire gets to ballet," she said before kissing him on the cheek, shouldering her purse and walking out the door.
Jimmy sighed as he finished putting the dishes away, trying to ignore the feeling that he'd just lost something. "Hey, bub, you want to sneak some more pancakes now that your mom's gone?" There was no answer and Jimmy turned around, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. "Kiddo, you okay?"
"Daddy, don't you love us anymore?"
Jimmy dropped what he was doing and pulled up a chair, sitting right next to her. "Claire, of course I do. I love you and your mom more than anything."
"Then why do you keep going away?"
Jimmy sighed. "I have to sometimes, I'm sorry. I have to...." Jimmy trailed off, not sure what he was about to say. Work? Maybe, but he'd had that conversation with Claire long ago, when she was much smaller than this. It didn't feel right. "It's important."
"You could say no."
Something about those words crawled along the inside of his skull. "Say no to what, Claire?"
"All you have to do is say no. Then you could be home all the time. Why won't you?"
Jimmy heard a sound like a beat of wings and dug his nails into the arm of the chair. "Who are you?" The only response was silence. "Who are you?" Jimmy growled out, feeling his heart start to race. "Claire wouldn't ask me that, she knows why I don't say no. She understands."
"I'm sorry," Claire said, but not in her voice, one older and deeper. When she looked up Claire's eyes were brown instead of blue and Jimmy staggered back so quickly the chair tumbled over. "I thought you would listen to a familiar face."
"You don't use my daughter. You understand? She stays out of all of this."
"He would," she said, rising from the chair and approaching him. "If you ever became unsuitable he would use her without question. Without hesitation." Jimmy saw a line form down the center of Claire's forehead, almost like a seam; as he watched it grew wider until the skin began to peel away. Jimmy felt his stomach lurch as Rahmiel stepped out of his daughter's skin like a discarded suit and put one hand against his chest. "He would steal her life and use her up, the way he did yours. I'm trying to save you from that. Save all of you."
"So what about you? You're not wearing your own face either, are you?"
Her brows drew together. "Regrettably, no." This close he could see the madness burning in her eyes. "This was supposed to be something beautiful, you know. A union between our Father's two favorite creations, and what do we use it for?" Her lips curled down, twisting that beautiful face into a sneer. "Violence. Murder. Bloodshed." She kissed him and it took everything Jimmy had not to gag. "We taught you war, using your own bodies. That sin tainted all of us. It's the true reason our Father left us." She traced one manicured finger along his lips. "You'll understand. Once I've cleansed you you'll thank me, and with my brother gone this ruinous war will end."
"If you like humans so much why do you want Raphael to win? He wants to end the world."
"Oh, I have plans for him too." She kissed him again, a slow, lingering kiss as if she was relishing every second of it. "Once I burn the infection from you'll understand everything."
She was too strong for Jimmy to push away; he could hear the sound of someone screaming in pain, someone with his voice. "Stop it," he said, shoving her hard to try to make an opening. "Let us go."
Rahmiel put one hand over his mouth and he could feel the heat radiating from her. "Hush now, darling. Let me take care of you." Suddenly, blessedly, he saw irritation cross her face and she drew away. "We'll talk more later," she said, kissing his cheek just the way Amelia had before she left.
The next thing he knew was opening his eyes to see Dean shaking him awake. "Jimmy! Wake up!" he shouted, so loud Jimmy felt his ears ring.
"'m awake," he said, startled at how heavy his limbs felt.
He felt Dean cradle his head. "What happened? Focus."
"Shouldn't...fallen asleep," he murmured, his eyes too heavy to keep open. "Tried to warn me."
"Angels can fuck with you in your dreams, I should've warned you myself." Jimmy felt Dean's thumb along the line of his jaw. "You gotta stay awake, buddy."
"Trying." The full impact of what had happened was only just beginning to hit him. "She was talking to me. She made me think she was Claire."
He saw fury make Dean's eyes go dark. "Cas okay in there?"
Jimmy rubbed his chest and shook his head. "He hurts. She tried...." He couldn't talk for a second, the horror of watching Rahmiel walk out of his daughter's skin hitting him like a hammer. "Said she was burning out an infection."
"That must be why you're running a fever this bad. Can Cas hear me?"
Jimmy couldn't keep back the sad smile. "Dean, he always hears you."
He saw emotion flood through Dean's eyes, then Dean kissed him, a slow, careful kiss, so different from the one out by the car that Jimmy felt strange calling them the same word. Jimmy couldn't help kissing him back, letting Dean's lips and tongue soothe the nightmare just the way he was soothing the pain away from Castiel. When Dean finally pulled back Jimmy knew the disappointment he felt wasn't only coming from the angel. "That help him out?" Dean said. "Like last time?" Jimmy nodded and he felt Dean press one hand against his forehead. "Good. Now let's get your fever down before you cook."
He felt Dean haul him off the bed and start to ease him out of his clothes as he dragged him to the motel shower. "Should make you buy me a drink first."
It felt good to hear Dean laugh, even a laugh as scared as this one. "Shouldn't have already let me get to first base then."
***
One ice-cold shower later the fever wasn't quite broken but it wasn't dangerous anymore. Dean had told him that he'd watch him if he dozed off but Jimmy didn't want to ever sleep again, and anyway, Dean needed the sleep more than he did. He picked at the burger Dean had brought him, not trusting his stomach to keep anything down, giving Dean the rest. When Dean fell asleep mid-bite Jimmy cleared away the trash and lay down beside him, telling himself Cas would feel better next to Dean.
"Huh. Now I'm calling you Cas, too," he said to no one in particular. He felt a flush of warmth that told him the angel wasn't all that upset about that. When Dean shifted in his sleep and threw one arm across his waist Jimmy didn't move it away, telling himself that was for Castiel's benefit, too. Apparently he could lie to himself all night.
He lay there until dawn, listening to Dean breathe and wondering just how far in over his head he was going to get before all this was over.
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