Supernatural fic - "Leap That Makes the Fall" (Part Three)
See the masterpost for disclaimer, summary, and previous parts.
When Sam got back to the motel, there was no sign of his brother. A piercing pair of blue eyes was locked on him from the bed, sandwiched between a mountain of blankets and a mess of black hair. The sudden fury in them stopped Sam cold in the doorway at first, bags of food in his hands.
“Uh… where’s Dean?”
“About damn time,” Dean said, emerging from the bathroom and striding across the room toward his brother.
When Sam glanced back toward Castiel’s peeking eyes, the venom was gone, replaced with wary watchfulness and curiosity.
Dean unloaded the food on the table while Sam took off his coat and dropped the keys next to the television.
“Come on, Cas,” Dean beckoned without turning to look at him.
“What?”
“Well, if you’re human, then you gotta eat. I can only assume this is for you,” Dean brandished a clear plastic cup of mixed fruit. He turned a dour eye on his younger brother. “Wow, you didn’t want him to enjoy this, did you? Don’t you remember Jimmy being a fiend for burgers? Couldn’t find a nice, greasy Egg McMuffin or something?”
Closing his eyes and counting to ten, Sam explained, “If Castiel is… if he’s full-fledged human… who knows how hardy his digestive system is? I don’t want to know what regurgitated Egg McMuffin looks like.”
“Ewww…” Dean turned to the bed finally. “Cas?”
Castiel was still buried in his nest of blankets. “I don’t think… I don’t think I’m hungry.”
“Even if you aren’t now, you will be later if you don’t eat something. Come on, your fruit’s getting cold.”
“I don’t want cold,” Castiel insisted, surprisingly petulant.
Dean rolled his eyes and went over to his duffel. He pulled out a flannel shirt and took it to Cas. “Here… this’ll keep you warm.”
Castiel slithered out of bed and into the long-sleeved shirt in one motion. By the time he shuffled over to the small table, Dean and Sam were already starting into their own breakfasts. Castiel picked up the container of fruit and eyed it in his cupped hands a while. Then, still cradling the cup, he began to wander around the room.
Sam watched the angel uncertainly, then turned toward Dean. “Did you get any sense of how compos mentis he is?”
“We don’t all speak lawyer, bitch.”
“Dean… is he playing with a full deck?”
“Was that so hard?” Dean glanced toward the angel. Sam looked, too, and Castiel had made his way toward the dresser where Dean’s duffel was lying open, its contents half-spilling out. “It’s not full-blown amnesia… I mean, he knows who and what he is, but it’s like someone ripped out all the pages with the plot. He’s Cliff’s Notes Cas. All he has is the big picture stuff.” Dean frowned in Castiel’s direction. Sam turned to look and saw that Castiel had set down his cup of fruit and was tugging on the sleeve of Dean’s green jacket poking out of the bag. He worked it loose with care, stood a moment with it in his hands, then awkwardly shrugged into it. When it was draped over his shoulders, too big and bulky for his frame (which was actually kind of familiar, reminiscent of the trench coat), he hugged it close around his body.
“Just help yourself, Cas,” Dean quipped sarcastically.
Sam kicked him in the shin under the table.
“Ow! What?”
“Seriously?” Sam whispered harshly. “Could you try being a little less of an ass? This is probably really hard on him, and you could at least act like you get that.”
Dean scowled, but when he noticed Castiel regretfully moving to remove the jacket, Dean stopped him. “No, it’s okay, Cas. Really… wear it if you want.”
Castiel pulled it snug around himself again. Then he gathered up his still-untouched cup of fruit and came back toward the table. He sat on the edge of the bed facing the brothers, cup held awkwardly between slightly-curled fingers. He looked between the Winchesters, letting his gaze linger much longer on Dean before he said, “I’ll try to answer any questions you have, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Do you know why you fell?” Sam asked carefully.
“Because it ended,” Castiel answered reflexively, only a second later frowning like he realized that wasn’t a complete answer but he didn’t know the rest of it.
“Well, is anything after us?” Dean asked.
“Not that I know of…”
“Yeah, but the list of things you know about right now leaves a lot to be desired,” Dean commented dryly.
That earned Dean another solid kick in the leg.
“Knock it off!”
“Dean’s right,” Castiel said softly, staring down in abject misery at his fruit.
“You don’t have to take his side just because you like him,” Sam pointed out testily.
Castiel lifted his eyebrows and looked first at Sam, then toward Dean. “I’m not. Dean’s right. I’m not being of much assistance. If anything, I’m a burden like this.” He moved his arms out at the elbows, in a half-assed indication of his body and its currently human state. “If I had anywhere else to go, I would free you from this cross.” Castiel looked thoughtful. “If you know of somewhere for me to go, I will.”
Dean was moodily silent, refusing to speak. Sam just glowered at him in disbelief, preparing himself to give Dean another kick in the shin. He got that Dean had some serious issues with Castiel lately, but he never thought his brother would turn his back on a friend. Dean made friends like rivers formed canyons… slowly and painstakingly. And once made, his loyalty was just as hard to reverse as a canyon was to unmake. If Sam had any doubts about that, the way Dean took care of Castiel last night said it all. But this, Dean’s behavior now, was in utter contrast to the ‘do anything’ concern he’d shown last night.
“We’re not ditching you, Cas,” Dean finally said. “Just… we have to figure out where the hell we go from here. But no more talk of ‘getting rid of you’, got that?”
Castiel nodded in not-so-disguised relief.
“Well, I think our first order of business should be looking up last night’s local meteorological reports.”
“Well, doesn’t that sound fun,” Dean said sarcastically.
Sometimes it was exhausting having such a dense brother. “If Castiel actually fell, there could have been an ‘event’… like when Anna fell. The meteor that landed where that tree grew later.” Sam ran through the idea some more. “Then, I guess, a world-wide search to see if there’s any signs of the other angels falling, too.”
“How about it? Remember crashing to earth like little Clark Kent, Cas?” Dean asked.
“I remember hitting the pavement hurt,” Cas remarked absently.
A tense silence followed.
Dean shoved the last of his breakfast in his mouth in a truly disgusting display of bad manners, then he got up from the table. “You can take internet duty, Sammy, I’ll surf the channels.” And Dean might actually watch a little bit of the weather channel, but anything with perky nipples or a pert ass would get plenty of study, too. Fortunately, Sam would count himself lucky if Dean would just stay out of his hair long enough for Sam to get the actual work done.
When Dean went over to the stripped bed, flopped down, and fished the remote off the nightstand, Castiel wordlessly set the untouched fruit on the table and retreated back underneath his mound of blankets.
*****************
Three hours later, Sam looked up from his laptop and blinked the strain out of his eyes. “Well, I can’t find anything about any meteor showers. Not anywhere, and definitely nothing about anything crashing to earth around here.”
Dean glanced over at Sam from watching television. He was propped against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankles. Dean had to look across Castiel to regard Sam. About an hour into their quiet research ritual, Castiel had stirred from his nest of covers. His restlessness and apparent discomfort got progressively worse, and Dean figured out Castiel needed to use the restroom. He led Castiel to the bathroom and gestured expansively into the small room and left Castiel to it. While Castiel was left to figure out the mechanics, Dean went back to the bed and resumed his channel surfing. When Castiel came out, he moved back toward the bed he’d slept in then stopped. He glanced long and imploringly at Dean on the other bed. For a while, Dean kind of just ignored it. Of course, no one had staying power like an angel, and finally with a sigh Dean scooted over and Castiel sat down next to Dean, mirroring his body posture and quietly watching whatever Dean happened to put on without comment.
They were still in that same pose now, only Castiel had his arms crossed over his chest, holding the jacket tight and closed around his body.
Dean put the remote down on the mattress. “So we don’t even have any proof that Cas really fell.”
“I urinated, Dean,” Castiel said gravely.
Despite himself, Sam chuckled.
“You got pretty close to human once before,” Dean countered. “Sleeping and getting sick and stuck on the ground like the rest of us, but you were still an angel, just an angel out of juice. Don’t you remember?”
Castiel frowned. “I recall… a time when I felt closer to you. Less alien in your eyes.”
That would totally fall into the chick-flick category in Dean’s book. Predictably, Dean scowled uncomfortably.
“I’m fallen, Dean,” Castiel persisted. “I may not remember how or why, but I know what I’m not.” Castiel’s eyes narrowed and he added testily, “If someone cut off your arm, you’d know it, wouldn’t you? Even if the limb couldn’t be found to prove it.”
Dean flinched and shot an unguarded, worried look toward Castiel at that… almost before he could remember he was supposed to not care that much or something. Compassion filled his eyes before that stubborn, childish set returned to his jaw.
“Well,” Sam interjected before Dean could say something else insensitive. “Then this is a falling we haven’t encountered before. I mean, with Anna, she chose to fall and tore out her grace.”
“Right, and was born a human with no memory that she used to be an angel… at least not until we pried it out of her.”
“But since Castiel’s not a twinkle in some unsuspecting woman’s eye, then this is a different kind of falling. One that keeps the Jimmy Novak look intact.”
While the brothers were talking, Castiel was staring down at his hands. Without warning, he said, “You look at this face, this body, and you see a friend.”
Dean and Sam turned identical puzzled looks on Cas. “Uh… sure… okay, Cas,” Dean said haltingly. Sam had only a shrug when Dean looked toward his brother.
Sam shut his laptop in surrender. “I don’t know what else to tell you guys. Like everything else here lately, I can’t find a single thing out of the ordinary.”
“Except the fact that there’s nothing out of the ordinary,” Dean pointed out.
All Sam gave in response was an acknowledging gesture.
“Well… guess we could start making our way to Bobby’s. Maybe he’ll have something in his library that will give us some ideas.”
Sam wanted to point out that Bobby had probably already looked into everything there was to look into among his old tomes and then some, but he knew Dean suggested it not so much because there was a chance they’d find anything, but mostly because Dean needed some direction. If they couldn’t be heading toward a hunt, they might as well be heading toward Bobby’s.
Not like Bobby wasn’t used to the Winchesters dragging weird shit to his doorstep, anyway. Wouldn’t even be the first fallen angel they’d shown up with, either.
“All right.” Sam glanced at his watch, “It’s already late, and we’re paid up in this room through tomorrow. Head out in the morning, you think?”
Dean nodded.
“Okay, well,” Sam stood, gathering up his laptop, “I’m going to get me a separate room for tonight.”
That had Dean up off the bed in a hurry. “What? Why?”
Sam just cast a reproving look at his big brother.
Sensing a discreet conversation in the offing, Dean walked up to Sam and asked lowly, “What the hell, dude?”
“Dude, Castiel’s not comfortable around me. I’m sure once he gets some more of his memories back, it’ll be fine, but for right now I think I shouldn’t hang around. Maybe… maybe if he can have a few hours without his guard up, he’ll remember something else. Or maybe he already does but doesn’t want to say anything in front of me.” Sam stopped and stared at his brother. Dean looked really resistant to being alone with Castiel, which went against everything Sam had come to expect of that mismatched pair. If anything, they used to be all too comfortable together, in some weird, indefinable way. “What’s with you, man?”
“Nothing,” Dean growled. “You’re right, for now Cas would probably feel more comfortable with you gone.”
Usually, Sam felt a thrill of satisfaction when his big brother admitted Sam was right. Not this time, though.
Part Four
When Sam got back to the motel, there was no sign of his brother. A piercing pair of blue eyes was locked on him from the bed, sandwiched between a mountain of blankets and a mess of black hair. The sudden fury in them stopped Sam cold in the doorway at first, bags of food in his hands.
“Uh… where’s Dean?”
“About damn time,” Dean said, emerging from the bathroom and striding across the room toward his brother.
When Sam glanced back toward Castiel’s peeking eyes, the venom was gone, replaced with wary watchfulness and curiosity.
Dean unloaded the food on the table while Sam took off his coat and dropped the keys next to the television.
“Come on, Cas,” Dean beckoned without turning to look at him.
“What?”
“Well, if you’re human, then you gotta eat. I can only assume this is for you,” Dean brandished a clear plastic cup of mixed fruit. He turned a dour eye on his younger brother. “Wow, you didn’t want him to enjoy this, did you? Don’t you remember Jimmy being a fiend for burgers? Couldn’t find a nice, greasy Egg McMuffin or something?”
Closing his eyes and counting to ten, Sam explained, “If Castiel is… if he’s full-fledged human… who knows how hardy his digestive system is? I don’t want to know what regurgitated Egg McMuffin looks like.”
“Ewww…” Dean turned to the bed finally. “Cas?”
Castiel was still buried in his nest of blankets. “I don’t think… I don’t think I’m hungry.”
“Even if you aren’t now, you will be later if you don’t eat something. Come on, your fruit’s getting cold.”
“I don’t want cold,” Castiel insisted, surprisingly petulant.
Dean rolled his eyes and went over to his duffel. He pulled out a flannel shirt and took it to Cas. “Here… this’ll keep you warm.”
Castiel slithered out of bed and into the long-sleeved shirt in one motion. By the time he shuffled over to the small table, Dean and Sam were already starting into their own breakfasts. Castiel picked up the container of fruit and eyed it in his cupped hands a while. Then, still cradling the cup, he began to wander around the room.
Sam watched the angel uncertainly, then turned toward Dean. “Did you get any sense of how compos mentis he is?”
“We don’t all speak lawyer, bitch.”
“Dean… is he playing with a full deck?”
“Was that so hard?” Dean glanced toward the angel. Sam looked, too, and Castiel had made his way toward the dresser where Dean’s duffel was lying open, its contents half-spilling out. “It’s not full-blown amnesia… I mean, he knows who and what he is, but it’s like someone ripped out all the pages with the plot. He’s Cliff’s Notes Cas. All he has is the big picture stuff.” Dean frowned in Castiel’s direction. Sam turned to look and saw that Castiel had set down his cup of fruit and was tugging on the sleeve of Dean’s green jacket poking out of the bag. He worked it loose with care, stood a moment with it in his hands, then awkwardly shrugged into it. When it was draped over his shoulders, too big and bulky for his frame (which was actually kind of familiar, reminiscent of the trench coat), he hugged it close around his body.
“Just help yourself, Cas,” Dean quipped sarcastically.
Sam kicked him in the shin under the table.
“Ow! What?”
“Seriously?” Sam whispered harshly. “Could you try being a little less of an ass? This is probably really hard on him, and you could at least act like you get that.”
Dean scowled, but when he noticed Castiel regretfully moving to remove the jacket, Dean stopped him. “No, it’s okay, Cas. Really… wear it if you want.”
Castiel pulled it snug around himself again. Then he gathered up his still-untouched cup of fruit and came back toward the table. He sat on the edge of the bed facing the brothers, cup held awkwardly between slightly-curled fingers. He looked between the Winchesters, letting his gaze linger much longer on Dean before he said, “I’ll try to answer any questions you have, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Do you know why you fell?” Sam asked carefully.
“Because it ended,” Castiel answered reflexively, only a second later frowning like he realized that wasn’t a complete answer but he didn’t know the rest of it.
“Well, is anything after us?” Dean asked.
“Not that I know of…”
“Yeah, but the list of things you know about right now leaves a lot to be desired,” Dean commented dryly.
That earned Dean another solid kick in the leg.
“Knock it off!”
“Dean’s right,” Castiel said softly, staring down in abject misery at his fruit.
“You don’t have to take his side just because you like him,” Sam pointed out testily.
Castiel lifted his eyebrows and looked first at Sam, then toward Dean. “I’m not. Dean’s right. I’m not being of much assistance. If anything, I’m a burden like this.” He moved his arms out at the elbows, in a half-assed indication of his body and its currently human state. “If I had anywhere else to go, I would free you from this cross.” Castiel looked thoughtful. “If you know of somewhere for me to go, I will.”
Dean was moodily silent, refusing to speak. Sam just glowered at him in disbelief, preparing himself to give Dean another kick in the shin. He got that Dean had some serious issues with Castiel lately, but he never thought his brother would turn his back on a friend. Dean made friends like rivers formed canyons… slowly and painstakingly. And once made, his loyalty was just as hard to reverse as a canyon was to unmake. If Sam had any doubts about that, the way Dean took care of Castiel last night said it all. But this, Dean’s behavior now, was in utter contrast to the ‘do anything’ concern he’d shown last night.
“We’re not ditching you, Cas,” Dean finally said. “Just… we have to figure out where the hell we go from here. But no more talk of ‘getting rid of you’, got that?”
Castiel nodded in not-so-disguised relief.
“Well, I think our first order of business should be looking up last night’s local meteorological reports.”
“Well, doesn’t that sound fun,” Dean said sarcastically.
Sometimes it was exhausting having such a dense brother. “If Castiel actually fell, there could have been an ‘event’… like when Anna fell. The meteor that landed where that tree grew later.” Sam ran through the idea some more. “Then, I guess, a world-wide search to see if there’s any signs of the other angels falling, too.”
“How about it? Remember crashing to earth like little Clark Kent, Cas?” Dean asked.
“I remember hitting the pavement hurt,” Cas remarked absently.
A tense silence followed.
Dean shoved the last of his breakfast in his mouth in a truly disgusting display of bad manners, then he got up from the table. “You can take internet duty, Sammy, I’ll surf the channels.” And Dean might actually watch a little bit of the weather channel, but anything with perky nipples or a pert ass would get plenty of study, too. Fortunately, Sam would count himself lucky if Dean would just stay out of his hair long enough for Sam to get the actual work done.
When Dean went over to the stripped bed, flopped down, and fished the remote off the nightstand, Castiel wordlessly set the untouched fruit on the table and retreated back underneath his mound of blankets.
*****************
Three hours later, Sam looked up from his laptop and blinked the strain out of his eyes. “Well, I can’t find anything about any meteor showers. Not anywhere, and definitely nothing about anything crashing to earth around here.”
Dean glanced over at Sam from watching television. He was propped against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankles. Dean had to look across Castiel to regard Sam. About an hour into their quiet research ritual, Castiel had stirred from his nest of covers. His restlessness and apparent discomfort got progressively worse, and Dean figured out Castiel needed to use the restroom. He led Castiel to the bathroom and gestured expansively into the small room and left Castiel to it. While Castiel was left to figure out the mechanics, Dean went back to the bed and resumed his channel surfing. When Castiel came out, he moved back toward the bed he’d slept in then stopped. He glanced long and imploringly at Dean on the other bed. For a while, Dean kind of just ignored it. Of course, no one had staying power like an angel, and finally with a sigh Dean scooted over and Castiel sat down next to Dean, mirroring his body posture and quietly watching whatever Dean happened to put on without comment.
They were still in that same pose now, only Castiel had his arms crossed over his chest, holding the jacket tight and closed around his body.
Dean put the remote down on the mattress. “So we don’t even have any proof that Cas really fell.”
“I urinated, Dean,” Castiel said gravely.
Despite himself, Sam chuckled.
“You got pretty close to human once before,” Dean countered. “Sleeping and getting sick and stuck on the ground like the rest of us, but you were still an angel, just an angel out of juice. Don’t you remember?”
Castiel frowned. “I recall… a time when I felt closer to you. Less alien in your eyes.”
That would totally fall into the chick-flick category in Dean’s book. Predictably, Dean scowled uncomfortably.
“I’m fallen, Dean,” Castiel persisted. “I may not remember how or why, but I know what I’m not.” Castiel’s eyes narrowed and he added testily, “If someone cut off your arm, you’d know it, wouldn’t you? Even if the limb couldn’t be found to prove it.”
Dean flinched and shot an unguarded, worried look toward Castiel at that… almost before he could remember he was supposed to not care that much or something. Compassion filled his eyes before that stubborn, childish set returned to his jaw.
“Well,” Sam interjected before Dean could say something else insensitive. “Then this is a falling we haven’t encountered before. I mean, with Anna, she chose to fall and tore out her grace.”
“Right, and was born a human with no memory that she used to be an angel… at least not until we pried it out of her.”
“But since Castiel’s not a twinkle in some unsuspecting woman’s eye, then this is a different kind of falling. One that keeps the Jimmy Novak look intact.”
While the brothers were talking, Castiel was staring down at his hands. Without warning, he said, “You look at this face, this body, and you see a friend.”
Dean and Sam turned identical puzzled looks on Cas. “Uh… sure… okay, Cas,” Dean said haltingly. Sam had only a shrug when Dean looked toward his brother.
Sam shut his laptop in surrender. “I don’t know what else to tell you guys. Like everything else here lately, I can’t find a single thing out of the ordinary.”
“Except the fact that there’s nothing out of the ordinary,” Dean pointed out.
All Sam gave in response was an acknowledging gesture.
“Well… guess we could start making our way to Bobby’s. Maybe he’ll have something in his library that will give us some ideas.”
Sam wanted to point out that Bobby had probably already looked into everything there was to look into among his old tomes and then some, but he knew Dean suggested it not so much because there was a chance they’d find anything, but mostly because Dean needed some direction. If they couldn’t be heading toward a hunt, they might as well be heading toward Bobby’s.
Not like Bobby wasn’t used to the Winchesters dragging weird shit to his doorstep, anyway. Wouldn’t even be the first fallen angel they’d shown up with, either.
“All right.” Sam glanced at his watch, “It’s already late, and we’re paid up in this room through tomorrow. Head out in the morning, you think?”
Dean nodded.
“Okay, well,” Sam stood, gathering up his laptop, “I’m going to get me a separate room for tonight.”
That had Dean up off the bed in a hurry. “What? Why?”
Sam just cast a reproving look at his big brother.
Sensing a discreet conversation in the offing, Dean walked up to Sam and asked lowly, “What the hell, dude?”
“Dude, Castiel’s not comfortable around me. I’m sure once he gets some more of his memories back, it’ll be fine, but for right now I think I shouldn’t hang around. Maybe… maybe if he can have a few hours without his guard up, he’ll remember something else. Or maybe he already does but doesn’t want to say anything in front of me.” Sam stopped and stared at his brother. Dean looked really resistant to being alone with Castiel, which went against everything Sam had come to expect of that mismatched pair. If anything, they used to be all too comfortable together, in some weird, indefinable way. “What’s with you, man?”
“Nothing,” Dean growled. “You’re right, for now Cas would probably feel more comfortable with you gone.”
Usually, Sam felt a thrill of satisfaction when his big brother admitted Sam was right. Not this time, though.
Part Four