An UnKindness of Crows
~Part Five~
Dean liked booths instead of regular tables because they gave him more room to stretch out and he didn’t have to worry about the people that passed accidentally knocking something over or tripping over his boots. Plus he could have two plates of pie and still have room for the main course. Sitting in said booth, he yawned and checked his phone for messages when the bell over the door chimed and he looked up to see his beanstalk of a brother making his way inside of the diner.
He could remember when he was so short, barely reaching his shoulder. All gangly arms and legs spouting random facts about historical figures and other crap Dean didn’t care about. And now he was gigantic and in need of a haircut. He’d always been smart though so no one was surprised when he said he wanted to be a lawyer. Well lawyer or history teacher-back then he hadn’t decided.
“Dean, hey.” His grin quickly vanished as he took in the state of his brother. “Dude what happened to your face?”
Dean rolled his eyes. The bruise on his cheek was blotchy and yellow; his bottom lip brandishing a noticeable red cut. “Nice to see you too, Sammy. And it’s nothing I just got into a little fight.”
“With who?” He inquired curiously. “One of your clients or something?”
“No. It-it’s complicated. I don’t want to get you involved,” Dean replied honestly. “It’s nothing.”
Sam frowned at him. “Are you in trouble?”
He considered the question for a moment. Gordon was a (known) mob enforcer who was convinced that he knew more than he was letting on, and apparently he’d told his weird ass bosses all about him. “That’s complicated too.”
His brother’s frown deepened and his lips set into a straight line. “Dean.”
“Jesus Sammy stop bitch-facing at me.” Dean glanced around slowly. “Okay look here is the deal. Jo took some pictures that she thought were harmless but it seems that she was wrong.”
“What kinda pictures?”
“Do you know Lilith Adler?”
“I know of her. Her husband is Zachariah Adler-he’s always in the news because of his company and their medical breakthroughs or whatever. There is a good chance that you’ve taken one of the drugs his company has manufactured. Why?”
“Jo got pictures of her and some mob boss having a meeting. We assumed they were maybe cheating, not that we were gonna do anything with them. Hell she was just being nosy. Anyway now this dude named Gordon Walker thinks we know something we don’t about his boss. He showed up at the Roadhouse last night and picked a fight.”
“Dude, Gordon Walker has been in court more times than I have. Usually for battery or assault with a deadly weapon. How could you get mixed up with him?”
“It’s not like I called his mama a whore or whatever. He came after me. Look I can handle it though. Eventually he’ll get tired or when the pictures never surface he’ll move on.”
“Yeah well, just be careful Dean. Private Investigating is supposed to be the safe job.”
Dean smirked and they both ordered when the waitress bounced over. Sam waited until their coffee was poured and he’d added sugar to his to speak again. “So…how’s the mystery guy? Seen him again?”
“Maybe,” Dean said noncommittally. “He…might have shown up at my apartment.”
Sam’s brows jumped up towards his hairline. “Oh? But I thought he was some crazy wacko that wanted to make a scrapbook out of your hair…”
“He’s definitely weird but I’m kinda digging it,” He admitted with a smile. “We’re gonna have coffee when he’s…finished whatever in the hell it is he’s working on. I’m telling ya Sam, this guy isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. He talks like an encyclopedia and wears makeup-and not like a drag queen.”
“But you seem okay with that.” Sam waved a hand. “And you’re usually a good judge of character. And maybe after Lisa you’re looking for something a little less apple pie.”
That makes sense. “I guess. I mean I think it’s strange how we relate to each other but then I remember how you used to fawn all over Jess before you two officially hooked up. At least I’m not sending him flowers with a card signed from your secret admirer.”
“Oh shut up.” His brother snorted. “If you were the flowers type you’d probably be doing the same thing. Anyway are you gonna bring him to the get together?”
Dean slouched. “I don’t know. First off I have no clue where he’ll be by then and second, isn’t it a little too soon to be introducing him to the family? I don’t even know his last name.”
Sam snickered loudly. “And it never occurred to you to ask?”
Now it was his turn to say shut up. Sam just laughed again and continued. “Look you made a connection with someone when you weren’t expecting it, and with someone you weren’t expecting. It’s not typical but it does happen. It’s like locking eyes with someone across a crowded room or noticing the same person at the same place every day and never knowing how much you have in common until you actually speak.”
“Always the helpless romantic, huh Samantha?” Dean teased but his expression was soft. “I just feel like I should be warier about the situation. Here’s this dude who wears face paint and breaks into my apartment and I’m swooning over him like a sixteen year old at a Twilight convention. If his name was Edward I’d be really concerned for my mental health.”
“Yeah, your knowledge of Twilight really disturbs me.”
“I have a tv asshole. And this coming from the guy who nearly peed himself when the last Harry Potter book came out.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Moving on…if you like this guy then just focus on that. At the very least you’ll have an interesting story to tell your many adopted children about how their two daddies met.”
Dean kicked him underneath the table but he couldn’t deny how the thought amused him. Well kids you see your dad saved me from a fiery death and then kinda stalked me for a while. But I was totally okay with it because he was super hot.
He rubbed the back of his neck with a light exhale and looked out of the window at the parking lot. A black van almost jumped the curb as it roared into the area, cutting off several rows of traffic on the three lane highway. The tinted passenger window rolled down and Dean barely had time to scream duck before bullets began to riddle the small building, shattering the windows and the glasses on the tables.
He was leaning over the table top and shoving Sam to the floor before he even really realized what he was doing. People were screaming and scrambling for cover as things exploded around them, raining food and pieces of Formica onto the glossy tiles. It only lasted a few minutes and then the van was screeching out of the parking lot with squealing tires leaving angry blowing horns in its wake.
Dean leapt up and stared out of the damaged window but he was too late. The vehicle was long gone and out of range to get a license plate number. Cursing, he turned and surveyed the destruction with angry eyes; stared at the sobbing patrons and confused employees. “Sam? Sammy!” Helping his brother sit up, he balked at the blood dripping down his large bicep.
“It’s not bad.” Sam grunted as Dean ripped his sleeve to get a better look. “I think it’s just a flesh wound.”
“Fuck.” He grabbed a handful of napkins and pressed them to the bleeding area. “Are you sure you’re okay? Not hit anywhere else?”
Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m okay. Thanks for pushing me outta the way or this could have been worse.”
Dean didn’t want to think about that. “No problem.”
Ten minutes later and the police were arriving, along with the paramedics and fire department even though they weren’t needed. Unfortunately a few people had been shot but nothing life threatening thankfully. Dean was standing by a back ambulance door with Sam as he was patched up when he noticed Henriksen walking over in official ‘Detective’ mode.
“You two okay?” He asked genuinely concerned.
“It’s just a flesh wound,” Sam said. “Any idea who did this?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “C’mon Sam. It had to be that son of a bitch, Gordon.” A beat. “I hope you’ve put out a warrant for his arrest or something.”
Henriksen folded his arms over his chest. “You know it doesn’t work like that, Dean. But yeah he’s a person of interest considering what you’ve told me about him. And how he seems to have some kinda infatuation with you. If he did this we’ll get him. Don’t worry.”
As far as Dean was concerned there were no ifs or buts about it. He knew that Gordon was guilty and he was going to prove it. He was officially tired of that asshole fucking with his life.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” Henriksen put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me handle this.”
“Let me help you.”
“No.”
“Henriksen c’mon! This dick went after my family! Who knows what else he is gonna do!”
“Look I’ll put a protection detail on your family, okay? But now you gotta calm down and think rationally. If he did this he’s gonna be expecting you to retaliate. Hell that’s probably exactly what he wants. You gotta just lay low and be on the lookout. Stay out of trouble and away from Gordon Walker.”
Sam poked his side. “I agree, Dean. Don’t do anything to make this jerk lash out even more. I’m fine.”
Dean clenched his jaw so hard that it started to ache and of course the bruises didn’t help. He reluctantly agreed to chill and let the cops do their job but he got the feeling that neither Sam nor Henriksen believed him. Not that he could blame them. He had a history of saying one thing and then doing another, especially if he felt like someone was screwing with him.
So yeah he’d let Henriksen conduct his investigation through all of the correct channels but like hell was he going to sit around and twiddle his damn thumbs. It was one thing to come after him but no one messed with his family.
No one.
~*~
It was after two when Dean finally pulled up before his office building and cut the engine. Sam had basically forced him to go do something constructive instead of following him around his home and asking him over and over again if he was okay. He’d also promised not to tell their parents about actually being at the diner during the shooting but that was another matter altogether. They’d probably find out either way and then he’d have a lot of explaining to do. He was not looking forward to that.
Smoothing a hand over his face and frowning at the headache he could feel coming on, he slowly climbed out of his car and answered his phone when it started ringing. “Hello?”
It was Jo. “Dean! Oh my God are you okay? I heard about what happened.”
He shook his head. “How did you find out I was involved?”
She sighed. “Victor told us what was up when he explained why a police car was stalking our parking lot. It was that bastard Gordon, wasn’t it?”
“I think it was, yeah,” He admitted. “So be careful ‘cause I’m pretty sure someone is trying to kill me.”
“This is all my fault,” She grumbled. “I should have just minded my own damn business. You shouldn’t be taking the heat for me. I can handle myself.”
“I know. But I’m a little tougher than you.”
“Come here and say that.”
“Heh you know what I mean. I’d rather it were my ass on the line instead of someone I care about.”
“Where are you now? What are you doing?”
“Gonna hit the office for a few hours.”
“Alone?”
“No I might invite over a hooker. Of course alone. And don’t even think about showing up here.”
“Dean, why is it always okay for you to take care of everyone but we never get to repay the favor?”
“Because I’m awesome. Stay with your mom.”
Hanging up, he caught sight of the cop car that had been assigned to him and scratched at the side of his neck. It was going to be a long day. With a low groan he made his way inside and up to his floor, unlocking the door to his office and slipping inside. He fell into his comfortable chair and flipped through some of the files on his desk but he really had no energy to do any work. On days like today he really felt like nothing he did mattered anyway. He basically helped destroy marriages.
Where was the honor in that?
Thirty minutes later shuffling out in the hallway caught his attention and next the door was opening, and his father was wheeling his way into the room. John Winchester-even in a wheelchair-was still a force to be reckoned with and Dean could tell by his expression that he was in no mood for any bullshit.
“Dad, what are you doing here?”
John parked himself directly in front of the desk and clasped his hands together. “I talked to Ellen earlier.”
Shit. “Sam’s fine.”
John nodded slowly. “I know. I talked to him too. So, you wanna tell me what’s going on or do I have to look into things myself?”
Dean sighed. “It-it’s nothing, okay? Just a misunderstanding.”
His father arched a brow. “A misunderstanding with bullets is pretty damn dangerous. Is this the same misunderstanding that did that to your face?”
Dean grunted. “Okay look, Jo took some pictures of some bad people doing bad things and things are kinda heated right now. I’m taking most of the blame so that they’ll leave her alone. Ellen doesn’t know about it and I’d like to keep it that way.” Pause. “The diner thing was just some asshole showing me he means business. I’m sorry Sam got caught up in my drama.”
“Why not go to the cops?”
“Henriksen knows. ‘Sides not much they can do without proof.”
“Only you could find trouble in a job this safe. When your mother finds out she’ll want you to become a meter maid.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah and I probably would just to set her mind at ease.”
John watched him silently. He reached back and closed the door and then rested his elbows on Dean’s desk. “We need to have a talk. I know it’s gonna be hell for both of us but it’s time. You know, I never wanted you to give up your dream.”
“I know,” He said softly. “But it’s obvious mom blamed the job for your accident. She got it into her head that what happened to you would happen to me. Or worse. I didn’t want her to worry.”
His father smiled a little. “And that’s very noble of you as a son but we’re not going to be here forever and you need to do what makes you happy. I know you’d never admit it but obviously this isn’t what you had in mind for a career. When that asshole shot me in the back he not only took my legs but your future as well.”
Dean shook his head. “I make a decent living at what I do.”
John sighed. “I didn’t say you didn’t. But it’s what you fell back on and you’ve never exactly been happy doing it.” Pause. “I just don’t want cha resentin’ me ‘cause you’re not a cop.”
Wetting his lips, Dean cringed at the nature of the conversation but realized he had to follow through. “I don’t resent you, dad. I could never resent you. I hate the dick that put you in that chair and I-I think sometimes that if I were a cop I could have caught him. I could have put him in jail so that he’d never hurt anyone else again. He just got away with it and that’s not right. People who screw with other peoples’ lives deserve to be punished.”
“He’ll get his…maybe he already has. Karma’s a bitch.”
“I just feel like I let you down ‘cause I didn’t try to catch him.”
John frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m proud of both you and Sammy. So what if you’re not a cop? It was never on you to find that bastard even if you were. Look you’re a strong, kind young man and as far as I am concerned your mother and I raised you right. What you do for a living means nothing to me as long as you are happy.” He exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “Are you happy? Or do you miss Lisa?”
Dean hadn’t exactly told his parents the particulars of his break up with Lisa, just that they weren’t together anymore and it was her decision they see other people. “Honestly? I did for a while. I’d gotten used to her being around and shit. I loved her but I guess she wasn’t in it for the long haul.”
“And now?” John inquired.
“Time heals all wounds.” Dean tried to keep his expression blank. “Can’t spend the rest of my life moping about some chick. Got better things to do.”
John arched a brow. “Remember when you were six and you tried to hide that dog in your room? And he got out and got into Sam’s closet and then Sam peed the bed because he thought it was a monster?” At Dean’s nod he continued. “Yeah you’re making that face right now. The I didn’t do anything face. You used to make it a lot when you were younger. You seein’ someone?”
“Kinda…” He answered with a noncommittal scowl. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
His father chuckled. “Fair enough. Anyway I want you to be careful, Dean. You think you’re invincible but you’re not. If shit gets too intense don’t be stupid. As for help.”
“Yes sir,” Dean replied.
They didn’t have many serious talks because they both tended to avoid anything dealing with their feelings unless it was serious or Mary forced them. Dean had an inkling that his mother had badgered her husband into talking to him after hearing the news about the diner shooting. He was slightly surprised she wasn’t begging him to come home for a few weeks. Now however he definitely had to go to their cookout.
It was true though that he’d always wanted to find the jackass that put his dad in a wheelchair. When he first became an Investigator he’d looked into the case and canvassed the neighborhood for anyone matching the son of a bitch’s description. To this day he wasn’t sure what he would have done had he actually caught him but he liked to think after roughing him up he would have turned him in.
Not being able to find that drug addict and not being a real cop bothered him more than anything else. But he would never say it out loud. Most days he didn’t even allow himself to think it anymore.
~*~
With the coffee table moved over to the side, Dean sat against the bottom of his couch surrounded by printed out news articles, notes and his laptop. Curled up on a pillow absently purring was his cat that would open his eyes and stare at him whenever he cursed or lost his pen under a few sheets of paper. It was almost one in the morning but Dean felt too wired to sleep.
Hence putting on some music and finding out everything he could about Lilith Adler-for starters. Alastair was next on the list.
In truth she was a pretty boring woman. Attractive in a sharp sort of way if that made any sense. Obviously too young for her husband but he was loaded and he totally understood that. Dealt with on a day to day basis. Anyway there were tons of pictures of them on news sites from charity events mostly or gala openings. The Alders were figureheads around town-pretty powerful couple really without being obtrusive. They appeared to have their hands clean which made even less sense for her to be meeting with Alastair unless she was in fact, screwing him.
However Dean had a feeling it went much deeper than that. If Adler found out his wife was cheating no doubt he’d divorce her, pay her alimony every month and have a newer model before you could blink. So the connection was probably between Adler himself with the wife as just a decoy. He wouldn’t be the first clean on paper guy to have skeletons in his closet.
Nodding his head along to the soulful song droning from his speakers, he lifted a brow as someone rapped softly on his front door. He slicked his tongue across his bottom lip and padded over to it, checking the peephole, expecting the cop from down below. Biting the inside of his cheek, he smoothed down his faded green t-shirt and slowly opened the door.
“Sure you don’t want to come in the window again?”
Castiel smiled. Just a little. “I was going to until I saw your light on then I decided it would defeat the purpose. Besides, I figured knocking would be more endearing considering what you know about me.”
Dean chuckled and motioned for him to come inside, which he did. “Well gotta say Cas, you are full of surprises.” He shut the door. “What brings you by at this hour?”
“Do I need a reason to want to see you?” Castiel glanced around and crouched down to pet the cat when it trotted over.
“No…” Dean flicked on the overhead light. “Of course not. You can stop by whenever you want.”
“Thank you. I…” He trailed off as he stood and caught sight of Dean’s bruised face. “What happened to you?” He reached out and cupped his cheeks, smoothing his thumbs over the marked skin around Dean’s eye and over his cheek bone.
Dean’s voice was subdued as he replied, “Got into a bar fight earlier.” He cracked a smirking grin. “You should see the other guy.”
Castiel stepped closer. “I am sure it was justified, the beating you gave him. You do not strike me as the type to simply get drunk and pick fights.”
Without really meaning to-maybe Gordon hit him harder than he thought-Dean swayed into Castiel’s space until their chests were nearly touching. He could smell the cool night air on his skin and he found himself with the sudden urge to bury his fingers in his wildly adorable dark hair just to feel the softness he knew was there. “No it-he deserved it trust me.”
Wide blue eyes gazed up at him serenely. “Good. Although I wish it hadn’t come to violence…” His forehead crinkled but whatever thought he had that disturbed him, he pushed it away. “I do not like seeing you hurt.”
Dean forced his hands to remain limp at his sides. Pushed down the urge to touch or just do something involving the other man. Anything. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re got really nice eyes?”
“A few times,” Castiel mused, dropping his hands to Dean’s neck. “I suppose the face paint really brings them out?”
“Yeah. Man, you gotta show me what you look like without that stuff.”
“I will. I promise. When I don’t need it anymore.”
“Why do you need it now? I mean, do you walk around during the day like this?”
“No. This is something for after dark. I-it helps with my work if certain people don’t see my face.”
“Hm. Okay so why this? Why not warrior markings or whatever?”
“This was the image in my head when I decided to do it.”
Exhaling, Dean licked his lips and traced his fingers over the black line that stemmed from the corner of Castiel’s mouth. “I still think you’re a superhero or something. Shit, I guess that makes me your Lois Lane.”
“There are worse things to be.” He laughed, his lashes fluttering at the touch. “I’m glad it doesn’t frighten you.”
“Nah. My brother is the one who’s scared of clowns. Ya know if he lived closer we could go over to his house and you could press against the window. He’d scream like a girl.” Dean wiggled his brows. “Actually a trip across town for that would be so worth it.”
Castiel snorted. He reluctantly moved away from Dean and sat down on the sofa. “Ah yes. Sam. The lawyer. Let’s hope he never has to try a case about the circus.”
So in the only time they’d talked on the phone, Dean had spent most of it talking about himself and his family while Cas listened with an odd sort of fascination. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with his own information but Dean learned that he had a sister that designed wedding cakes. He’d made a mental note to tell Sam later just in case Jessica wanted to check her out.
Dean shuffled his mess out of the way so that he could sit down. “Do you plan to tell me more about you when I see your real face?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.” He studied his hands. “I like this song; I’ve never heard it before. Who is it?”
“Only one of the best bands in the world. Zeppelin of course; Since I’ve Been Loving You,” Dean said. “Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you about them.”
“It is aurally pleasing. I would like to hear more of their work sometime.” Tilting his head to the side, Castiel reached and plucked up the Colt 1911 that was resting on a handkerchief on the end of the coffee table. He smoothed his fingers over the white handle, drawing attention to his hands and Dean couldn’t help but stare. They were really nice hands. “Planning on needing this?”
“Hoping not but you never know where an asshole is concerned.”
“Who is bothering you, Dean?”
“This guy named Gordon Walker. He’s a dick. Thinks I know something I don’t.”
Castiel bristled, returning the gun to its place. “Gordon did this to you?”
That’s interesting. “You know him?”
His new friend’s face went stony and he was on his feet a second later heading to the door. “I have to go.”
“Cas? Cas, wait.” Dean caught his wrist just before he entered the hallway. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”
“It’s okay, Dean. I’m just…late. I have work to do,” He replied seamlessly. “Rooftops to prowl.”
“Am I going to see you again?” Dean inquired, leaning against the threshold. He found himself hoping the answer was yes even if he didn’t exactly understand the reasons why. “I’d like to.”
“I…” Castiel stared at him; his eyes soft and gentle. “Yes, Dean. You will.”
As he stalked towards the stairwell, Dean scowled and hurried back inside to jump into his boots and grab his jacket. He pulled his door closed with a noisy slam and followed Castiel; he could hear his shiny shoes as they sounded like they took the stairs two at a time. Dean was quite aware that he should probably just go back to his home and continue working, but it was as if some force was driving him onward. Perhaps his burning curiosity to figure out the man who kept turning up and shaking up his otherwise mundane life.
Exiting the building and looking around, he waved off the cop as he caught a flash of tan out of the corner of his eye and followed it down the block. “Cas? Either you can stop or I can just follow you all night.”
He was heading by an alley when a deep voice said, “You’re only following me now because I am allowing it.”
Dean skidded to a stop and peered into the murky space between the two buildings. “Then why are you letting me?”
Castiel pulled out his cigarettes. “Because you want to. I understand that I am not being entirely fair. That there are things we should be talking about-things I should be more forthcoming in offering up. However I find that I am nervous to tell you the truth about me because I do not wish for you to look at me differently. I do not wish for you to forbid me from visiting you.”
Leaning against the wall and mirroring the other man’s stance, Dean sighed. “Dude, you’re running around in the shadows like some kinda caped crusader saving lives or whatever. Ever since I was little I wanted to be Batman. But you know dating him doesn’t sound so bad either.” Pause. “It’s just, I was talking to my brother today and he was asking about you and it’s like, you’re a total stranger to me. I don’t know your last name for one, and I feel like I should care about that. And I do…but not enough to make me stop wanting to see you. Everyone has secrets.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me.”
“Tell me one of your secrets and I will tell you one of mine.”
“Um… When I was sixteen I stole my dad’s car and drove to Texas to see this girl that I was kinda in love with. She’d moved a few months before but I was still so into her. The only reason my dad never found out is because I lied and said I was spending the night with a friend.”
“That sounds romantic.”
“Romantic. Stupid. All the same when you’re sixteen.”
“I once had an affair with one of my professors while I was attending college.”
“Did you get all As?”
“Actually I think he graded me even harder to throw off suspicion.”
Dean laughed. “So can I ask you something personal?”
Castiel nodded. “If you wish.”
“When did you know you liked guys?” He asked softly. “I’m just curious.”
“I’ve always known.” Castiel glanced up to the night sky. “I came out when I was sixteen and my father was not thrilled at all. I think he even considered sending me to one of those pray out the gay camps but my mother talked him out of it. Our relationship was rocky for a few years before he finally accepted me. What about you?”
“I’ve always liked girls too so I never really focused on it until I was seventeen and I met this guy.” He grinned a little. “He was older and working part time at this bar while he put himself through medical school. We used to sneak around and shit. I was terrified of telling my dad that I liked boys as well as girls. He’s a former cop and I was sure he was going to shoot me. I can tell he’s not overjoyed by the idea but he takes it all in stride. Like your dad he’s scared of my mom.”
Castiel chuckled and stared at his cigarettes before tossing the box into a dumpster. “You have no idea how long I’ve been meaning to quit.”
Dean bumped their shoulders together and blinked as a man stumbled into their area wearing dirty clothes with pale skin and wide eyes that kept darting all around. He’d encountered enough drug addicts to know one when he was looking at one, and this guy definitely fit the bill. It could be the asshole who shot my dad-I always think that when I encounter an addict. Wonder could I bash his head in with something before he realized what was going on? Better not, don’t wanna put Cas in the crosshairs.
Making no sudden moves, he took Cas’ hand and gave it a firm tug. “Let’s go,” He whispered. “Slowly.”
Funny thing about crack heads though, the ones with nothing to lose always seemed to have perfect hearing. He quickly blocked the mouth of the alley and pulled a gun out of his tattered pocket. It was also obviously a great feat to hold it steady. “Gimme your wallets. Now!” He demanded, rubbing at his nose.
“I do not have a wallet.” Castiel tilted his head to the side like an inquisitive bird; Dean was becoming fond of the action. “And I am almost certain that my friend left his upstairs.”
“Fuck,” Dean cursed patting at the back of his jeans. He had done just that. “Look man he’s right. We don’t have any money on us so why don’t you just turn around and-”
The gun went off so suddenly that Dean almost figured it to be a car back firing or something. It wasn’t until the addict screeched in shock and ran off that he realized his shaky trigger finger had gotten the best of him. He took a second to feel if he were in any pain and then immediately turned to Cas when the answer was no.
Castiel was slumped against the brick nearly glaring at the small hole and bloodstain marring his white shirt. Dean made a noise low in his throat like he was being strangled and lurched towards him, his mind screaming at him to call 911 because it couldn’t end this way. It just couldn’t. There was no way in hell he was letting Castiel end up like his dad or worse. He grabbed the other man’s shirt and yanked the two sides apart, sending buttons flying into the air.
“Oh God, Cas!” He swallowed thickly, expecting to find a gruesome wound pouring blood. Instead he found…nothing. No wound. No blood. Just smooth warm skin. “What…” He wet his lips in confusion and splayed his fingers on Cas’ stomach, the muscles twitching under his touch. “Cas?”
“Novak.” Castiel caressed his cheek which forced his head up. “My last name is Novak.”
“But you were shot. I-where’s the bullet hole? There was blood. I-I saw-where’s the blood?” He blinked owlishly. “What does your last name have to do with anything?”
Pulling away from him slowly, Castiel watched him solemnly. “I’m sorry that this is the way you had to find out, Dean. I should have told you sooner but I was enjoying the fact that you saw me as at least somewhat normal. You’ll have questions and I will answer them. Just come find me.” Pause. “Castiel Novak.”
“Find you? I-how? C’mon man, tell me what’s going on!”
“Look for Castiel Novak and you’ll know where I am. Goodbye Dean.”
Part Six