SPN: "But, Honestly" - 2/11
Title: Stranger in a Strange Land
Author:
omnomster
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Pairing: Dean/future!Cas
Spoilers: Ep 5.08
Warnings: None
Word Count: 4,198
Summary: Dean goes to the bar, but when he sees who's working there, he's sure that he has to be seeing things.
Chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | +
Stranger in a Strange Land
Dean had innocently walked into the grungy dive, flashing the bouncer a fake ID and a twenty to gain entrance. The heavy bass of some rock song rattled the smoke-filled air. Despite the loud music, the place was pretty quiet. Only a few people were gathered at the tables, drinking cheap beer and chattering away. Expert eyes scoped the scene, trying to pick out a few girls that he might be interested in.
He sat at the bar with a grunt, not having seen anyone particularly fascinating. After checking his watch, he took note that it was only seven. As the night went on, the place would slowly become more populated. Hell, by midnight, there’d probably be-
Oh, right. He had to be home by ten to make sure Sam got home. Well…Fuck. That certainly put a damper on things. That was one thing he’d forgotten to take into consideration with this plan; he couldn’t stay out all night. Well, maybe his little brother could stay home for a bit by himself. After all, he was going to be seventeen in a few months. He could handle being alone while Dean had a couple drinks.
Green eyes looked up and down the bar, finally resting on the only person behind it, completely oblivious to Dean waiting there. The bartender was wearing a tight-fitted black shirt, exposing his tattooed arms. A black tribal pattern wound its way up the man’s right arm, slowly turning into open-mouthed snakes near the shoulder. From that angle, Dean was able to see a handful of studs protruding from the man’s ears. He could already tell that this guy was going to get under his skin; he looked like a total douchebag.
Trying to contain his irritation, the brunette asked, “Hey. What’s a guy gotta do to get a beer around here, huh?”
The bartender’s head turned up from whatever he’d been doing, the feathery brown hair sticking in strange directions resulting from a long, stressful day. Turning around, he was obviously annoyed, brows furrowed and pink lips turned down and big blue-
And that’s when it had Dean. He was staring down this familiar stranger with a look of shock and…Well, more shock. The bartender had a similar look. His eyebrows had raised, mouth parted slightly with words stuck in his throat. A moment passed between them as they each took in the other’s appearance.
This was obviously a dream. This was obviously just some really weird, fucked up dream. Dean must’ve fallen asleep feeling guilty, and then his brain decided to whip up this…monstrosity. Okay, okay. Monstrosity was probably a harsh word, but this was just so different! So…eugh.
“Dean Winchester?” The bartender’s voice was gravely, low, and perhaps the most surprising feature. His inhumanly blue eyes narrowed, squinting as if Dean might morph into someone else. But nothing happened and his face relaxed slightly, still with that look of disbelief.
“Cas?” Dean added, hesitantly.
He leaned in, head turned slightly as he took in the man’s appearance. There was a stink of cigarette smoke and alcohol wafting from the blue-eyed young man. He had certainly matured… Recognition seemed to register on the bartender’s face and Dean thought he could see something akin to fear there. If it was there, it had quickly been replaced by a smile.
“Dean Winchester…” He repeated the name again, shaking his head with a huge grin plastered on his face. Soon, a short laugh came from his mouth, and it may have been the most relieving thing to ever grace the Winchester’s ears. “Damn, man! I can’t-I can’t believe you’re here! I thought you were gone for good.”
There was still a look of utter confusion on Dean’s face as the man opposite him clasped his shoulder, a look of uncharacteristic cheerfulness on his face. “It’s great to see you,” the green-eyed man said slowly, trying to compose himself. “Uh… Wow! You sure look different.”
A smirk flickered over Cas’ face, eyes taking on a mischievous quality as he answered, “Yeah. I guess I have. People change a lot in six years. But you… Well, you look just the same as ever.” Something similar to contentment came to his lips, and the young man turned around, grabbing some liquor from a fridge and bringing it to Dean.
Dean, however, was still busy staring at Castiel with amazement. The image of a young boy flashed in his head, a boy with bright blue eyes and messy hair, wearing his Sunday’s best with a Bible clutched in his arms as if it were a life-preserver. His face was stern, though, conveying expressions too old for his body with a mind too naïve for the high school he attended. That image was stamped in Dean’s brain as the polar opposite to this much older, much different being standing before him, which somehow held the same name, knowledge, and physical qualities.
When the bartender turned around, Dean coughed into his fist, sitting up a little higher. His eyes would only stay on Cas for a brief moment before they’d dart away, looking anywhere but at what was before him.
“Y-yeah…I guess I haven’t,” the Winchester replied, nodding. He took the bottle of beer that was put out for him, thanking the blue-eyed oddity. Silence passed as he took a swig, trying to think of exactly what to say. After all, if Cas wasn’t going to bring up Dean’s sudden disappearance from Lawrence, then Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to, either.
Luckily, however, another person entered and sat at the bar, requiring Cas’ attention. The young man dismissed himself to go take care of the customer, and the Winchester was allotted some time to think of what to say. As the other had said, it’d been almost six years since they’d talked to each other. When his father had told him that they’d be leaving, Dean had decided not to tell Cas and had ensured that Cas’ brothers wouldn’t tell him either. So, when the Winchesters suddenly disappeared from Lawrence, the blue-eyed sophomore had probably been shocked. But Dean didn’t want to think about that, so he tried to think of boring, mundane questions to ask as he slowly finished his beer.
A few minutes later, Dean’s friend returned, eyes glancing around and surveying the bar. “So, I can’t really talk right now, and I don’t get off until midnight. Boss is coming in for inspections tonight. You wanna do something after? Get ourselves some drinks, catch dinner or a snack or something?”
Trying to ignore Castiel’s more crude word choice, Dean nodded, gulping down the rest of the throat-sizzling liquid. “Uh, y-yeah! Sure,” the man replied, nodding enthusiastically. After a moment, though, he seemed to realize what he’d just said and took to shaking his head violently, “I mean, no, uh, no, I can’t, but another time?”
Damn. He obviously sounded nervous, and surely Cas could pick up on it. But if the bartender sensed anything out of the ordinary, he didn’t let on.
“I have to make sure Sammy gets home by ten and goes to bed at a reasonable hour and all that stuff.” His brain grabbed at all the knowledge he had of the blue-eyed man, before he finally asked, “Uh, church? Can we arrange something there? You still go to St. Joseph’s, right?”
Dean wasn’t exactly really very religious in the least bit. In fact, Dean probably hadn’t believed in God in many, many years. Sam, on the other hand, still seemed to hold some faith and hope, and Cas’ entire family consisted of staunch Catholics. The short-haired brunette could even recall his friend saying several times that he wanted to become a priest or a missionary when he got older.
However, the begotten reaction was not what Dean had been expecting. A strange smirk crept over Cas’ lips, finally turning into a full out smile as if he’d been trying to hold it back. “Yeah. I’ll be there,” he replied, some strange, devious undertone in his words.
Green eyes narrowed at the man for a moment, but now seemed as good a time as ever to leave. The young man got to his feet, dishing out a few dollars for the beer. “Okay. I’ll see you around, Cas.”
He didn’t dare another look at his friend. Dean simply turned and left the bar as quickly as possible. Once out in the cool air, he let out a huge breath that he hadn’t known he’d been holding. That was certainly not how he’d thought that would turn out. In fact, the young man had honestly thought that he’d get chewed out. Instead, he’d gotten a rather polite response from a pierced and needled stranger who actually wanted to hang out instead of beat him to a bloody pulp (unless the plan was to get Dean alone and then beat him to a bloody pulp).
It was times like this when Dean wished he smoked. Walking the streets of downtown Lawrence, his fingers itched and his stress levels rose. That hadn’t been anything like what he’d expected. Hell, if he hadn’t known better, he’d think that Cas just had an evil twin or something. But he had about twelve hours to think of what to do next. Church started at nine and while he wouldn’t normally have gone, he knew Sam would want to go and Cas would be there, too. Maybe Dean could actually apologize.
No. Actually, he might be physically incapable of doing that.
Rather than return home right away, Dean chose to wander for a bit. It gave him time to clear his mind and think. Part of him thought that he’d be able to avoid Castiel for… well, forever. Of course, that was illogical, but if he was going to run into his old friend, the Winchester thought that it would not have been so soon.
He thought about the last time that he’d seen Cas. It had been towards the end of their sophomore year of high school.
Bright and warm, most of the women at the church had donned dresses and skirts while the men were in khakis and white button-downs. Seeing as it was his first time attending in years (well, sort of attending), fifteen-year-old Dean had put on his nicest pair of jeans, cleanest shirt, and one of his least-battered leather jacket. He didn’t go inside, though. Instead, he sat on the front steps as the sermon proceeded and contemplated whether or not he should tell Cas.
An hour later, the people slowly flooded out. Dean had moved to the side, eyes searching for his friend. As the amount of leaving churchgoers dwindled, the green-eyed boy felt a tug in his chest, thinking he might have missed him. But, of course, the Novak family was one of the last to leave. Seeing the collection of dark-haired young men coming out of the church, Dean got to his feet and quickly caught up with them. Castiel was standing with his brothers, Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel, speaking pleasantly with some of the other members of the community.
The Novaks were known for being steadfast Catholics and did everything and anything the church asked them to do. After their father had left, the eldest, Michael, had taken over as ‘man of the house.’ Their mother had been completely blind-sighted by her husband’s sudden disappearance and was quick to take to the drink. This hadn’t crippled the children’s faith, though. Instead, they somehow became even more involved with the church. They did, however, still have their issues.
Often, Cas would come over to the Winchesters’ house and hang out with the family, just to get away from his own. He’d tell Dean all about what the day’s argument was, how he and his two older brothers were constantly fighting and Gabriel was finding a new way to get detentions at school. And Dean would crack a joke and find a way to help get his friend’s mind off of it. Sam’s childish nature seemed to amuse the blue-eyed boy quite a bit, and even John would sometimes offer something encouraging. Cas had really managed to become part of the family.
Approaching the small group, Dean offered a slight, close-mouthed smile and a wave. Michael and Gabriel returned the smile, but Raphael just gave him a look of disgust. Silently voicing his disapproval, the black-haired teenager turned and left the group, speaking with some other members of the church.
“Dean! It’s wonderful to see you. I thought you’d abandoned us,” Michael said, giving him a bright smile.
The oldest Novak stood taller than his brothers. His hair was neatly cut and sandy brown in color, and his eyes a bright green. His skin was evenly tanned, and his body had a strong build to it; he was a very popular runningback on the football team. He seemed nice enough and was one of those ‘good at everything and nice to everyone so you sort of hate him’ type of guys. Nonetheless, Dean didn’t like him; he didn’t like him at all. Something in his smile screamed “snake,” and he’d heard enough from Cas to know that this guy wasn’t as perfect as he seemed.
“Hey,” was Dean’s only response, with a nod to the senior and to Gabriel, who’s shifty eyes were scanning the area. Honestly, the word ‘abandoned’ had made him a whole lot more nervous. After all, did he have to use that word? Sure, he was just talking about Dean’s less-than-perfect church attendance, but still, ‘abandonment’ sounded pretty harsh, right? Sounding a little flustered, he cleared his throat and asked, “Hey, Cas, can I talk to you?”
Castiel glanced to his brothers, then back to Dean with a nod. The taller boy led him away, into the park next door where they could have a relatively private conversation. It always amused him how overdressed the blue-eyed boy would be for church. Even with the heat, he’d insisted on wearing a suit-blazer, tie, and all. He had to be sweating buckets in that thing.
“It’s good to see you at church, Dean, but why are you here?” His voice was still boyish. Cas had been late to puberty, so he was several inches shorter than his other friend. When he spoke, though, one did not have the impression of a child, but of a grown man. Despite the initial sound of it, his tone was usually very serious and blunt with a surprising amount of wisdom for a fifteen-year-old.
The sun was hot and beating down into his green eyes. Dean frowned, using a hand to shield them and taking a moment to survey their surroundings before answering. He should tell him. He had to tell him. How cruel of him would it be to just leave him? But when he finally looked into those quizzical azure eyes, he found that he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“I thought I’d give it another shot,” he lied, nodding. “You’re always telling me I should start coming again, so I thought, ‘Why not?’”
This answer didn’t wash the confusion from Cas’ eyes, though. “But you didn’t enter the church.”
Chuckling nervously, Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh, yeah. Well, I’m working on it. Takes a lot of nerve for a guy like me to just walk back in after a few years.”
His heart clenched guiltily as a rare smile crossed his friend’s lips. It wasn’t sarcastic or demeaning, but genuine, just as Cas always was.
“Well, I am glad you’re trying, Dean,” he said, sincerity dripping off his voice.
The short-haired brunette swallowed hard. This was much more difficult than he thought it would be.
“Why did you bring me over here? Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
Leave it to Cas to cut right to the chase. Dean could hear Sam’s call in the background, though, as the middle schooler searched for him. If he was going to do this, he needed to do it fast.
“I just, uh… Just wanted to say sorry that we haven’t been able to hang out at my place in awhile. Dad’s been doing so many renovation, that it’s left the house in ruins. I’m surprised one of us hasn’t accidentally gotten tetanus from a nail or something.” He smiled, looking away for a moment. “I guess I just wanted to tell you… You know, I…”
A moment of silence stretched between them. Dean could hear Sam’s voice getting louder, getting closer.
“What is it, Dean?” Castiel’s smile had disappeared. His brows were knitted together in concern, eyes carefully taking note of every detail of his friend’s face, as if they might be able to convey his concerns.
Deep breath, Dean thought to himself. He was prepared. He could do this. “I just, uh… Just wanted to say that you’re…you’re a good friend. I mean, I’m kind of a dick, so the fact that you stuck around so long means a lot… I guess. I can be a bitch, so, uh… Thanks for putting up with me. I figured I’d just tell you that.”
Bemused confusion filled his friend’s countenance, and Cas was soon shaking his head. “I don’t understand why you are telling me this,” he said, “but thank you. You are my best friend, Dean. I am deeply appreciative to have you in my life.”
Fuck, could Castiel say anything more hurtful at this point? He was unknowingly throwing daggers into Dean’s heart. He had to tell him. He had to! It wasn’t fair to not let Cas know, and if he was going to find out, he should find it out from him! How terrible a person would Dean be to just not-
But he didn’t have time. Sammy had tracked down his older brother and came between the two friends, waving to Cas. “Come on, Dean. Dad says we have to go.”
The underdressed teenager nodded to his brother, then looked to Cas. “I’ll, uh… See you around, Cas.”
Oblivious, Castiel just nodded, waving Dean off as he was dragged away by his brother.
By the time the memory had played four times in his head, Dean found himself standing in front of his old house, looking up at it. He must’ve walked for a long time, because it was clear on the other side of the town. The house looked different than he remembered it. The bricks looked fresher than they had when he’d left. The roof was newly black, no longer the light tan color it had been in his childhood. The windows were new, white, with beautiful mahogany shutters. Some of the windows were lit up, revealing some of the houses contents. Even from a distance, Dean could tell that it well-decorated and impeccably clean. From what he could see, there were no signs that the house had ever been on fire. The family living there probably didn’t even know it’d almost burnt to the ground.
He didn’t linger very long. Though he was curious as to who lived there now, he really didn’t want to see a happy family roaming around the place, having dinner, leading a cheery apple pie life. No. So, he turned around and returned home; his new, better home, he convinced himself.
He reached the apartment a few minutes before ten. Wandering back to the bedrooms, he tapped his knuckles on one of the bedroom doors before poking his head in, looking towards the bed. Sam looked up, laptop sitting on his thighs, and he nodded his brother in.
“Hey,” Dean said, smiling nervously as he walked in the room.
He glanced around, noticing it to be the most decorated place in the entire apartment. There were a couple of posters on the walls-U2, Foo Fighters, and even one of the Periodic Table of Elements. A nice gray comforter lay across the bed with a couple pillows. There were several photos sitting on top of the long wooden dresser, all of Sam with his friends. And on the bedside table there was an alarm clock and framed picture from when Sam was a baby. He was wrapped in his mother’s arm, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and kind blue eyes. Next to her stood John with a big smile on his face, Dean climbing up his back like a small, hairless monkey. Everyone was smiling, even six-month-old Sammy, who had drool dribbling down his face.
“So, uh… How was your reunion thing?” asked the older brother, tone conveying some type of awkwardness.
Sam gave a small smile, nodding his head. “It was good,” he replied, “I got to see a lot of my friends again. You wouldn’t believe how much they’ve changed. I mean, Jessica… She got just beautiful.”
The nervous smile turned to one of sincerity, Dean’s eyebrows raising. “Oh… Sounds like Sammy’s interested,” he smirked. He watched Sam roll his eyes and shake his head, but there was a definite blush on the younger boy’s face. “So, you made a move on her yet?”
“No,” replied the blue-eyed boy, sounding irritated. “I mean, I just saw her for the first time in, what, five years? Even if I was interested, I wouldn’t ‘make a move’ now.”
“So you’re not interested in her?”
Sam sighed, obviously disliking where the conversation had gone. “I don’t know, Dean. I have to get to know her again. Facebook can only tell you so much about a person.” There was a brief moment of silence. Not wanting his brother to pursue that line of conversation, he followed up with, “What about you? Where’ve you been?”
That bought Dean back to his anxious state. Taking in a deep breath, he shook his head, hands gong to his sides before coming out in an I-don’t-even-know gesture. “I, uh… I saw Cas,” answered Dean.
Sam’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment before reaching into his hairline in recognition. “Oh! Well, how did that go? I can’t imagine it went well.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean looked at the ceiling a moment. “Actually, we’re going to try to get together at some point. You know, catch up or something. I’m supposed to meet him after church tomorrow.”
Sam shook his head, shocked at the words coming out of his brother’s mouth. “You? You’re going to church? Dean, I’m pretty sure you’d catch on fire if you stepped foot in one.”
“Heh. What can I say? But, Sam, you wouldn’t believe it. Cas looks… He looks so different. I mean, I thought I was looking at some type of evil twin or something! I can’t even describe it, man. You’ll have to see for yourself tomorrow because… damn.”
The floppy-haired kid just nodded, lips pulled into a line. “Well…I guess I look forward to it? I’m surprised it went so well. I mean, I was pretty sure that if Cas ever saw you, he’d either start crying or punch you-probably both.”
Dean took in a deep breath, shrugging. “I know, man. I thought so, too. Maybe he wasn’t as upset about it as I thought he’d be.” That, however, made a pit form in the Winchester’s stomach. After all, if Cas hadn’t been upset about it, maybe they weren’t as close as he’d thought?
This was a subject that Dean didn’t want to stay on very long, however. After a glance to the window, the older brother walked back to the door. “Anyway, I’m going to hit the sack. Be ready for church tomorrow, alright? I’m pretty sure it starts at nine, but you can look that up, right?”
Rolling his eyes, Dean’s brother nodded. “Yeah, I’ll look it up. And wake your lazy ass up in the morning.”
Green eyes narrowed and Dean pointed at his brother. “Hey! No bad language.” He could only keep a straight face for so long, however, before a smile broke through.
Sam shook his head, looking to the ceiling as he began smiling as well. “Good night,” he replied firmly, dismissively.
“Good night, Sammy.”
Dean closed the door behind him, retreating to his new room. It was barren, just like the rest of the house. His clothes had been packed away in a small wardrobe, and the twin bed only had a single blanket and pillow thrown over it. Kicking off his shoes, he fell face-first onto the cot, a deep sigh leaving him. What a day.
Pulling out his years-old cell phone, he set up an alarm to wake him up. God, going to bed on a Saturday night, and it was only ten-thirty? How old was he? Seventy-five? Either way, he was beat. His body hurt from all the moving, and his brain hurt from all the what-the-fuck-is-going-on-with-Cas. He just wanted to sleep. And who knew? Maybe they’d have a pleasant conversation tomorrow. They had a lot to catch up, after all.
The last night he’d stayed in his house, Dean fell asleep worrying about his best friend. Six years later, his first night back in Lawrence, the Winchester’s final thoughts before sleeping were about that same old friend.
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