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Dean is drunk in a bar. But he isn’t drunk enough. Dean tipped back another shot of whiskey. He had lost count of how many drinks he’d had a long time ago. It was safe to assume he had developed a certain tolerance to the ‘hunter’s helper’.
He had left Sam and Cas back at the bunker. He needed to clear his head. Cas had turned into a whiney little cry baby who barely ever left his room at the bunker, and Sam always had that stupid puppy face that screamed ‘talk to him’ whenever Cas did manage to spend some time with them. Dean had to get away from the baby and puppy that he hadn’t signed up for in the first place. He grabbed his keys and bolted without telling either Cas or Sam that he was going out. He probably had a dozen phone calls and messages from his Sasquatch brother but there was no way to confirm that. He had left his phone in the Impala since the whole point of this escapade was to get away from both of them.
Dean hated the fact that he had had so much to drink but he wasn’t drunk drunk yet. He ordered another shot of whiskey, downed it in one gulp and felt the burn right from his throat to his chest to his stomach. Still not enough.
‘Dammit Cas’.
Dean slapped some dollar bills on the bar table to cover his drinks and walked out of the bar, slinging his jacket over his shoulders. The rumble of the impala helped calm him down. He checked his phone and sure enough there were 13 missed calls and 5 messages from Sam. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket without checking his messages or calling Sam back. He didn’t want to go back to the bunker. He knew that Cas would probably still be locked up in his room or staring miserably into the fireplace. Dean would ask him how he was and he would respond with a shrug and the conversation would be over. He hated seeing Cas like that. Cas had never been the ‘life of the party’ but he had a way of showing that he was content. He walked with his shoulders squared, head held high like the soldier that he was - Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Somewhere down the line, during the time that he was on Earth, that stoic, logic-driven Castiel had turned into Cas, an angel who understood the workings of human beings and who gave up everything including his family, for his friends. For humanity.
And now Castiel was human, powerless and clueless about how to survive as a human. He initially tried to adopt the ways of humankind, learning how to run errands, helping the Winchesters around the bunker, trying his hand at cooking, learning how to handle a gun, and trying to bury the guilt of all that he had done, all that he was responsible for. He tried. He really did. But he failed miserably at everything, all at once. Being human didn’t fit him at all. He had lost his sense of accomplishment and felt like a constant failure. At least as an angel, he had his powers. He could heal, he could fight, he had his wings. Now, he had nothing.
Dean dragged himself back to the present, pulled the car onto the dusty road and grudgingly headed back to the bunker.
~~~~~
Back at the bunker, Sam was waiting for him with Bitchface #5, reserved for special occasions such as this.
“I was on a supply run” Dean mumbled in reply to Sam’s unasked question.
“Sure, I would believe you had you brought said supply along with you.” Sam replied fuming.
“Oops” Dean said, chuckling humourlessly, “Well, I’ll go back tomorrow. Good night, Sammy.”
Dean made a beeline for his bedroom only to be stopped in his tracks by his brother’s insistent “Dean”
Dean pursed his lips and turned to face Sam and said, “Dammit Sam, I’m a grown man! Can’t I even go to a bar and get a drink without being questioned about it?”
“That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about though it would have been nice to have known you were alive while you left without informing us.” Dean inhaled sharply while Sam continued, “But I wanted to talk to you about Ca-”
“Yeah, not gonna happen.”
“Dean, I am done with you!” Sam practically exploded, “And I am done with Cas and I am done with our whole messed up situation but I have still tried to stow away my issues so that I can be there for my friend who needs me! And I would appreciate it if I had some help from you to get through to him.” Sam was all but yelling in frustration. Dean dipped his head and sighed. Sam was right. It was not fair for Sam to have to deal with their current crisis alone.
“I understand, Sam”
“Do you?” Sam breathed out, still fuming, “DO YOU? Because you sure haven’t been acting like it!”
“Jeez Sammy, I’ll talk to him okay?”
“No. I’ve tried talking. It’s not working. You will take him out tomorrow. Take him to a park, take him to a bar, take him to the Grand Canyon if need be. Just get him out of the bunker. Hopefully that will help.” His frustration wore out by the end of the statement.
“Okay, I’ll take him somewhere. Okay? He’ll be out of your hair -”
“Don’t put it like that, Dean! Cas is not a burden to me. It’s just… maybe some fresh air would do him good. And you know he’s got a stronger bond with you. Maybe he’ll be more comfortable with you.”
“Yeah , I get it Sammy. I’ll take him out tomorrow, give him his daily dose of Vitamin D.”
Sam sighed, his shoulder sagging in relief. “Thanks Dean.”
Dean nodded in reply.
“G’night Dean.”
“Good night Sam. Get some sleep.”
Dean passed Cas’ room on the way to his own and considered knocking. He should probably inform Cas that they’d be going out tomorrow. But then he thought better of it. If he told Cas now, he would probably end up cooking up an excuse to get out of it by morning. And it wasn’t like Cas had any other plans anyway. Dean whispered a good night at the door and headed towards his room.
~~~~~
“But Dean” Cas groaned. He slumped on the chair, sighing in frustration. He had managed to get out of his bed and into the kitchen the next morning. A half eaten waffle sat in front of him. He lost his appetite when Dean told him they would be going out.
“We’re going” Dean said, a note of finality in his voice. “Go get dressed. And run a comb through your hair.”
Cas dragged himself back to his room and Dean watched him go. He had lost a lot of weight. He looked skinny and lanky, his hair was always in a mess and his skin had grown pale due to lack of exposure to sunlight. His physical appearance was a definite give away of what he was feeling on the inside. Dean sighed when he realized that Sam was right. Cas did need help.
A few minutes later, Cas stepped into the reading room where Dean was waiting for him. He had worn a black button-down shirt over a pair of jeans. They’d bought these clothes for Cas after he fell since he now seemed to require a regular change of clothes. He looked much better now that he was out of his regular pyjama and old T-shirt ensemble.
“You couldn’t find a comb or something?” Dean asked.
“Dean, this vessel’s hai–”
“Yeah whatever, let’s go.” Dean said dismissively and led the way to the garage of the bunker with Cas following him slowly.
“Maybe I should stay with Sam, in case he needs some help with research.” Cas said as Dean unlocked the door of the impala.
“Yeah, because you’ve been so helpful to him all this time, right?” Dean snapped. Cas deflated and dropped his gaze to the ground. Dean ran his hand over his face. He was supposed to make Cas feel better. Even before their ‘adventure’ could begin it was heading in the opposite direction. He inhaled deeply.
“Look Cas, a little sunshine and a little fresh air would do you good. You’ve been cooped up in the bunker for how long now? D-Don’t answer that.” Dean added when he saw Cas open his mouth to reply. He knew that Cas would have known the exact number of days that he hadn’t stepped outside the bunker.
“Just get in the car.” Dean continued, giving up. He was not good at making other people feel good by giving them the good old ‘talk’. That was Sam’s area of expertise. If it were up to Dean, he’d fill Cas up to the brim with his favourite brand of whiskey and shove a dozen ‘Busty Asian Beauties’ magazines into Cas’ room. That method of coping worked perfectly well for him. Sam would’ve rolled his eyes of course. So Dean decided to try it Sam’s way.
Once they were settled in the impala, Dean pulled the impala onto the dusty road without saying a word to Cas. He didn’t feel like talking about anything because he knew he’d only make things worse by saying all the wrong things. Cas seemed content with this unspoken arrangement too. He just kept looking out the window of the impala, watching the world go by. Every once in a while Dean would glance over at Cas to make sure he was okay. He didn’t know if it was just the light, but he could swear Cas seemed to already look a little better than he did back at the bunker. After driving for about an hour, Dean pulled the car onto a bumpy road leading to the middle of nowhere. They were in the outskirts of the city and the wind smelt positively better than the city air. Cas looked at him when they pulled over questioningly.
“Come on.” Dean said in answer.
Cas got out of the car and took in his surroundings. Green was the dominant colour. Trees, shrubs, grass, everything was green, save for the occasional brown of tree trunks and an assortment of colourful flowers here and there. He squinted at the blackish-brown hills in the distance. He wondered how far the hills were and whether that’s where Dean was going to take him. The stark light blue sky complemented the greenery all around. His focus shifted onto the sounds he was hearing - sounds of birds, at least seven different variations of them, sounds of insects and sounds of tree trunks rubbing against each other as they swayed in the wind. He inhaled slowly and deeply, only to feel his shoulders relax and his eyes automatically shut close, focusing all of his senses on how the cool, fresh air filled his lungs and instantly uplifted his mood. All kinds of smells overwhelmed him and he couldn’t describe them in words. It smelled like wood and leaves and water. The smell of nature. The smell of Life. He took in another deep breath and relished the sense of tranquillity overtaking him. He felt it for the first time in weeks. Ever since he fell, he rarely felt like this. He wondered how long he could hold his breath just so he could keep this feeling locked up inside of him. His breath lasted for only ten seconds before he had to exhale, the biological need to survive overriding his psychological need to feel content. He frowned at himself. Another failure. Another thing he was bad at.
The metallic bang of the trunk of the impala closing brought Cas back to the present. Dean appeared next to him with a small back pack, a bottle cooler and two long rods. Cas’ brow furrowed in confusion.
“Fishing. We’re going fishing.” Dean said grinning. Cas blinked.
“I’ve never-” Cas didn’t complete his sentence expecting to be snapped at by Dean.
“Cas,” Dean said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I’ll show you how to. Don’t worry.” He smiled at Cas warmly and pulled him away from the car, his hand still placed firmly on Cas’ shoulder. After walking for a few minutes, Cas’ eyes perceived a silvery surface on the ground - a lake, reflecting the blue sky and the tall mountains. They walked onto the old but sturdy dock that extended into the lake and Dean placed his bag and cooler at his feet. He opened a small box of worms and strung one onto a hook on one of the fishing rods and handed it to Castiel who was watching Dean’s movements carefully, trying to learn the various stages of effective fishing. He felt a twinge of sadness for the poor worm that had been sacrificed mercilessly for their entertainment. Cas carefully avoided watching Dean do the same for his own hook. He already hated fishing and decided he would never engage in it again. For a seemingly harmless activity, fishing sure was quite violent. Not to mention they would actually be taking the life of an unsuspecting fish too.
Dean snapped his fingers before Cas’ face hauling him back to the present. “Let’s go.” He said, grinning. He guided Cas to the edge of the dock and just stood there, admiring the landscape in front of them.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Cas nodded in affirmation. Dean examined his fishing rod and then looked at Cas and said, “So, all you have to do is fling the bait into the water and wait for the fish to get it. Then when you feel a tug at the rod, just reel the fish in. Piece of cake. And obviously, don’t fall into the water.” He frowned at himself, thinking about how lame the explanation sounded. But Cas seemed to have understood because he didn’t look confused about the instructions. Not anymore than usual anyway.
“Observe.” Dean said and demonstrated the procedure, flinging his rod towards the water. He smiled proudly at how far he was able to hurl the worm into the water. “See, simple. Your turn.”
Cas mimicked Dean’s movement, albeit a little clumsily. He looked expectantly at Dean awaiting more instruction, but Dean didn’t give him any.
“Now what?”
“Now,” Dean sighed exaggeratedly, “we wait.” He sat down on the dusty dock. He had forgotten to carry lawn chairs but the dock didn’t seem all that bad anyway. Cas lowered himself next to Dean. They sat in complete silence for a long time, each consumed in their own thoughts as they slowly sipped the beers that Dean had carried in the cooler. It was a comfortable silence that Cas relished. Until he felt something tug at his rod. He ignored it at first, thinking it was his just his imagination, desperate to feel a sensation that his fingers had been anticipating for a long time. But then he felt it again, stronger and more insistent, to an extent that the rod almost slipped out of his hands.
“Dean, I – I think–” But he couldn’t quite complete his sentence because he was focusing more on keeping the rod in his hands. Whatever was tugging at the rod was pretty strong, too strong for Cas’ liking. He struggled onto his feet to find a stable footing and began pulling the rod against the force tugging at it from the other direction.
“Give it a tug so the fish gets hooked in!” Dean said. Cas obliged as his eyes found the source of the force; it was a mere ripple at the surface of the water. Cas felt Dean’s hands cover his own and was thankful for it. Apart from the additional strength that Dean’s hands provided in holding onto the rod, it was also very comforting. It was reminiscent of the times that they had fought together back when he was an Angel. Dean always had his back.
Suddenly, Dean’s fingers were fumbling at the reel in an attempt to draw the powerful force towards them. It seemed to be working since the ripple at the surface of the water got more agitated as it headed, against its will, in their direction.
“Whoa, that’s a huge one!” Dean exclaimed in awe. His face was scrunched up in concentration as they attempted to get the creature close enough to tug it out of the water. Dean gasped at the size of the fish once it was out of the water. He laughed triumphantly as they barely managed to get the writhing fish onto the dock, where it began thrashing and squirming violently, trying to get off the dock and back into the water. Dean and Cas managed to get the fish away from the dock and onto the clearing at the edge of the lake. They laid the fish onto the grass where it continued its fruitless struggle. Cas looked away from the wriggling fish and towards Dean’s abandoned fishing rod that was lying precariously at the edge of the dock.
“I’ll collect your stuff.” Cas said and walked away from Dean and the dying fish. He took longer than necessary to return, taking additional care to fidget with the items and buy him more time. Thankfully, by the time he returned the fish was no longer thrashing, save for the occasional twitch of tail or fin.
“That’s a huge fish Cas! Well done!” Dean applauded. Cas looked up at Dean and saw something different in his eyes. Was it pride? Was Dean proud of him? He heart soared in his chest when he realized that it probably was pride and a smile tugged at his own lips. It just kept getting wider and wider the longer he looked into Dean’s eyes. Yes, that look unmistakably was pride.
Dean also couldn’t take his eyes off Cas’ face. Cas was grinning, actually grinning. It wasn’t one of those small smiles that he smiled while he was an angel. This was a human smile, full of happiness and satisfaction. And the very thing that Cas had been seeking ever since he fell - Sense of Accomplishment. Dean wasn’t sure how long this feeling would stay with Cas, but now that it was there, Dean didn’t want it to go away. He instinctively pulled out his phone from his pocket.
“Let’s take a picture, Cas.” Cas’ eyebrows furrowed at the sudden suggestion.
“Is it customary to-”
“No, it’s not customary, but that” Dean said pointing at the fish that had now passed on to the afterlife, “is a huge ass fish which we would be very fortunate to even see again. So, I’m gonna take a picture to remember this moment. Now pick up the fish.”
Cas’ face contorted in confusion. “Do I need to be holding it?”
“Yes!” Dean said exasperatedly, “Just lift it by its mouth hold it in front of you.” Cas did as instructed with the signature stoic and unimpressed look plastered on his face.
“Cas, why don’t you smile? After all, it was you who captured that thing.” Dean witnessed a small smile grace Cas’ lips as he looked into the phone camera.
“You can do better than that Cas! Smile wider!” Dean coaxed and Cas obliged. A smile made its way to Dean’s lips too. This version of Cas was amazing. Dean waited for the image to adjust on his camera and when the moment was perfect he captured an amazing picture. One he knew even Sam would be proud of.
He stared at the picture for a long time. Cas looked so much better than he did this morning. Sure he looked all ruffled up after the frantic fight against the fish, with his hair all messed up and his shirt un-tucked on one side, but he looked great. Happy, almost. Dean felt Cas move close to him to inspect the picture.
“That’s a good picture. Thanks Dean.”
“What are you thanking me for?” Dean asked with an amused smile.
“This whole experience. It was wonderful.” Dean smiled at him and slapped Cas’ shoulder in a friendly gesture.
“Let’s go put that fish under Sammy’s pillow.” He said with a hint of mischief in his tone. But mostly he wanted to diffuse the sappy situation that was edging dangerously close to chick-flick zone. Throwing his head back in laughter, he lead a very confused looking Cas back to the impala.