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Dean and Sam had just returned from a hunt in California. A pack of werewolves were wreaking havoc on hikers in the Redwood National forest. Once the brother’s knew for sure what was going on, everything else was textbook. It felt nice to just get out on the road with Baby and his little brother, but Dean’s mind had always wandered back to the angel at the bunker. That is if Castiel had actually stayed this time.
Sam groaned and stretched when he got out of the car, not even waiting for Dean to put Baby in park.
“Shower then bed,” he mumbled to Dean once he got out of the car and headed to the trunk to get his bag.
Dean chuckled, throwing his own bag over his shoulder. “Want me to call AARP for you, old man?” he teased his little brother who in return glared at him.
“I believe you said on several occasions that your knee was killing you.”
It was true, Dean’s knee had been acting up lately, but he never saw it as being old. Even for being nearly forty he felt pretty good.
“Occupational hazard, Sammy!” Dean laughed as they walked into the bunker. The minute the brothers crossed the threshold the sounds of a melancholy guitar followed by Peter Townsend’s voice floated in the air from the other room.
“The Who?” Sam asked.
Dean nodded. “Cas found Mom and Dad’s vinyls. I fixed up the old stereo for him and let him use it.”
“Ah. Well, you have fun with that. I’m going back to my plan.”
Dean rolled his eyes and headed towards Cas’ room. “You do that,” he muttered waving his brother off.
He stopped at his room to toss his bag and coat inside, before heading to Castiel’s room. He had gotten there just as the percussion joined in and the rhythm picked up
And if I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
“Cas…” Dean sighed his name. If Castiel was listening to this particular song, then he was most likely in a depressive state, which made Dean feel like a dick for leaving him.
Dean knocked on the cracked door and heard the tell-tale sound of the record being paused.
“Dean?” The disembodied voice of Castiel came from the otherside of the door.
“Yeah man. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Castiel’s response made Dean smile softly.
He pushed the door open and was greeted with a surprise. Castiel was dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt. Specifically Dean’s jeans and Led Zeppelin tee-shirt. He looked comfortable and human, which was -- to Dean -- a bit off-putting.
“How was the case?” Cas asked, sitting stiff as a board on the side of the bed.
“Good: Just another milk run. You okay, Cas?”
“I’m fine, Dean.”
Dean nodded but he knew Cas would read through him. “So listening to the records, huh?”
Cas smiled slightly. “I am. I quite enjoy the imperfections of them compared to your tapes.”
“The hiss and pops?” Dean asked taking the record off the player and flipping it in his hands a few times.
“Exactly. And I’m quite fond of the song I was just listening too. I can relate to it.”
“Because of the blue eyes?”
Cas sighed and shook his head as he stood up. Gently and carefully, he took the record from Dean and placed it back on the player. Dean watched as Castiel concentrated on the placement of the needle to the groves of the black vinyl.
“Please, sit,” Castiel gestured to the bed as he himself sunk down to the floor, leaning against the speaker of the record player as the music started to play. Dean decided to sit across from Cas on the floor.
“It’s so much more than the blue eyes. This song reminds me of my worst times.” Castiel started as the opening chords played. Both men sat and listened.
No one knows what it's like
To be hated, to be fated
To telling only lies
Castiel stopped the record again. “That reminds me of when I was lying to you. Working with Crowley behind your back, thinking it was for the greater good. Back when every angel that ever crossed our path, reminded me of how broken I was.”
Dean nodded in understanding as the music started back up. He remembered the way Castiel’s own brothers and sisters seemed to have hated him for his association with Dean and Sam.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings like I do
And I blame you
Dean’s eyebrow rose as he watched Cas, curious about his explanation for that verse but Cas remained silent, watching Dean.
“You blame me?” Dean finally asked, unable to take the curiosity any more.
Cas gave a slight nod. “Yes and No. These lyrics are more reminiscent of when I started to questions my orders. When I started to get too close to my charge,” he gave Dean a pointed look that made him shiver. “When I started to understand what having free will really meant. That, was because of you. And Sam and Bobby. Even Ellen, Jo, Charlie, Kevin, and Meg, all taught me this.”
“Do you regret it?”
Castiel smiled and leaned back, letting the rock rhythm pulsing from the speaker vibrate against his spine.
“Do I regret stopping the apocalypse? Making a new family and new friends? No. I regret the ones that were killed in my moments of stupidity and ego.” Dean watched as Castiel stood up. “This last part… reminds me of us.”
Dean felt his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He knew this song like the back of his hand and would never consider this a love song. Not saying that was Cas’ meaning. He listened trying to get a grasp of what Castiel was saying.
“‘Don’t do something stupid,’” Castiel repeated. “When Pete says ‘when my fist clenches, crack it open before I use it and lose my cool,’ it reminds me of all the times you’ve told me not to do something stupid. All the times I’ve heard you yell for me when I go barreling into a situation, trying to protect you.”
Dean felt the heat rise on the back of his neck.
“If I swallow anything evil, shove your finger down my throat,” Cas quoted.
“The leviathan.”
Cas nodded, stopping the record as the song ended. “Even when you didn’t have faith in me, you were always there to help me.”
“Well, yeah… I mean that’s what family does.”
Castiel smiled. A genuine smile that Dean doesn’t see often. One that stretches his whole face, makes his eyes and nose crinkle and overall, makes the six foot angel look like an overgrown puppy.
“So I’ve learned.” Cas stretched his hand out to Dean.
Dean took it, allowing him to be helped back up.
“And now that you’ve learned more about the sad man behind blue eyes, why don’t you tell me about your case over a beer.”
And just like that, Dean understood Cas a little more.