Categories > TV > Supernatural0 Reviews
Dean unexpectedly meets Castiel for the second time.
Jimmy was a true believer, so devout that it upset his wife to the point that he was forced to seek psychiatric care, and was put on anti-psychotic medication. He had a loving wife and daughter, and a whole other life, but his faith was such that he was truly a devout man and follower of the Lord, first and foremost, and a true and willing vessel and tool of God. Jimmy looked a bit like a mussed up tax accountant with his slightly loosened tie, and his brown hair a bit ruffled, but his heart and faith were in the right place - the only place that mattered to God. He was overjoyed to become a vessel.
Sam was diligently researching the old books on angel lore that Bobby loaned him and his brother, so much so that he barely noticed Dean in the motel room until Dean started complaining about being uncomfortable and bored.
“Try sitting your ass down at the table on one of these chairs and start researching with me for once, then you’ll know what discomfort is. My ass is probably calloused by now.”
Dean groaned with disinterest and cringed at the image of Sam‘s calloused ass in his head.
These books held some heavy duty beliefs, traditions, religious and otherwise about angels, and none of it was exactly light reading. Dean’s interests didn’t lie in the research for the job so much as the adrenaline rush of the hunt. He preferred that Sam took lead of the research, and besides he thought Sam was better at it, and much more diligent and meticulous than Dean.
Dean lay on top of his bed with his eyes closed and pictured his first terrifying meeting with the powerful new arrival, Castiel, the man that called himself “an angel of the Lord“. He would never admit the terror, however. He never believed in anything that he could not eventually see in some form, with his own eyes, or kill, for that matter. Guns and knives were both useless on Castiel. He could not kill him, or could he? What was this creature? Did he want to kill him? What did “God” want to do with me anyway? Since when does something good happen to me, of all people? What gives with all this God stuff ? Dean wasn’t about to start believing in things he could not figure out how to kill.
Dean certainly rose from the dead and returned from hell in one piece, all but for the handprint that appeared to be seared into his shoulder. He had no explanation for escaping hell in one piece. The handprint scar had created some unknown bond between Dean and the angel that neither was aware of.
Could he believe Castiel’s words? What else could he be but an angel? He was shown his wings, and was told that God commanded Castiel to raise Dean from perdition because he had some work for him to do. What was all this crazy crap? Could he somehow himself become a believer? Sam had no problem accepting that angels existed, and Dean considered him to be a very sharp guy.
To Dean, there was something in Castiel’s searing blue eyes that made him want to trust his outrageous claims. A kind of naïveté that was surprising, and that made Dean want to believe his words. He’d seen so much and so many other supernatural creatures as a hunter that he felt drawn to Castiel because Castiel was a new “creature” to him, or so he thought. Is it possible? Is it really a God thing? Can there be such things as angels, wings and all?
He could see and sense Castiel’s confusion at Dean’s fear and lack of faith,. They could not take their eyes off of each other. The innocence he sensed had quelled some of Dean’s fear of the latest supernatural being to come into his life.
He opened his eyes and turned to find a “Magic Fingers” sign by the bed and smiled to himself while digging around desperately in his pockets for quarters.
“Now here’s some research I can handle right now,” he said as he quickly and excitedly dropped his quarters into the machine.
This place hasn’t been refurbished since the 70’s, Jophiel, the angel thought to himself disgustedly as both he and Castiel looked around the cheap motel room of the Greenwood Motor Inn. Jophiel was dressed neatly in a fine suit and overcoat in the style of the current day.
“Ah, a television…. This will pretty much… bring you up to date on what’s been going on in the human’s neck of the woods, as they say,” Jophiel said as he turned on the tv and tossed the remote to Castiel.
“What is this device?”
Castiel was a bit clumsy in his new vessel and had nearly dropped the remote control.
“It’s a remote. A remote control device for the television you see there,” Jophiel explained simply and as plainly as possible as he pointed at the tv. “Lots of pretty pictures of humans, Castiel. Have at it.”
Mesmerized, Castiel sat on the edge of the queen sized bed and stared at the tv screen.
“Television! And humans!” he said excitedly as he experimented with the buttons on the remote control. “So these are humans in their natural environment?”
“More or less.. Well, not exactly, but it’s close enough for our little quickie lesson on humans,“ Jophiel replied, suddenly anxious to leave. “And with that, I leave you to sort it out on your own.” he added and disappeared.
Castiel flipped from channel to channel, taking in as much information as he could. His eyes were wide with surprise. What is this? So much violence. So much pain. I don’t understand God’s love for these creatures. Violence and pain weren’t all that he saw once he figured out how to use the remote and switch on the pay-per-view movie channels. They sound like they’re in pain but they seem to be taking pleasure from these acts? Clearly, I need to study humans further.
Castiel had already had his first meeting or run-in with Dean, the human that he’d raised from perdition by command of God. He could not understand this man’s reactions toward him and was disappointed at first, then bewildered that one of God’s favorite creatures appeared confused and angry. Castiel also noted the fear and disbelief in the beautiful green eyes he’d looked into when he announced that he was an angel of the Lord. If this man, Dean, could believe in all sorts of other creatures, then why could he not accept the existence of angels, and that God had ordered his soldier, Castiel, to raise him from perdition? Why could he not quickly accept that since demons exist, than so must angels also exist?
He switched off the television to be able to think more clearly, and began rummaging around in his vessel’s pockets. A wad of paper money and some credit cards were stuffed in the billfold under the name of his vessel. He was relieved at the reception desk earlier when Jophiel had slipped the wallet out of his pocket to pay for the room with a credit card, so Castiel could see how it was used at a motel. It turned out that Jimmy was completely anal about debt, so he was in none, and only kept the credit cards for dire emergencies.
Castiel could not understand why Dean was terrified, confused, and even tried to kill him. Dean had even told him that he did not believe that angels existed. The young man showed no faith at all. This confounded Castiel, as did the defensive attitude that Dean took toward him. He did not understand the fear that gave itself away in Dean’s eyes.
He’d sensed a few other things about Dean when they first met, after Dean tried to kill him, especially his strengths, but also his self-loathing and lack of belief that good things happen. Dean was raised as a warrior, a hunter, and probably learned by example that fear is a weakness. Also, Dean didn’t believe he deserved to be saved from hell, body and soul. It was those things that both made Castiel a little sad and perplexed, but also drawn to him in some way that he did not even begin to understand other than a feeling that he needed to help protect the human. Emotions were not something that angels of his sort were too familiar with, especially one that had just taken possession of his vessel hours earlier.
Castiel had had enough of the tv, and grabbed his key and trench coat. There was no food or drink in the motel room. He had been experiencing hunger and Jophiel mentioned to him that there was an all-night café less than a mile down the road from the motel.
Dean was staring at a small crack in the ceiling when he turned his head and saw the “Magic Fingers” sign again while his bed vibrated. Genius, these things. He’d had just enough quarters to get at least one good massage out of the “Magic Fingers” bed, which was exactly the same as the bed that was across the room from his own.
Sam gave Dean a disapproving and disgusted look, but with a hint of jealously.
“Ah… Nothing like those Magic Fingers, Sammy. You ought to live a little and take the ride for yourself,” Dean suggested, smiling, his green eyes sparkling with delight. “See, Sam, you just gotta let go and let the fingers do their walking. That‘s when the real magic happens.”
“Those things are as cheesy as the burgers you shovel in your face, Dean.“
“You just gotta learn to have a little fun sometimes, Sam. Live a little! You remember the concept of fun, don’t you, Sammy?”
Sam looked at Dean with a disapproving look.
Just then, the “”Magic Fingers” used up the last of Dean’s change and the bed stopped vibrating. Dean sat up and looked at Sam with puppy dog eyes.
“What a rip off! You got any spare quarters, Sam? Please?”
“I’m not even going to check, because I wouldn’t waste my good money on that kind of crap.”
“Oh, come on. There’s nothing to do here. Nothing on tv and we certainly can’t watch porn together. Pretty please, Sammy?”
“Forget it, Dean, I’m going back to my research on these angels, like you should be doing,” Sam said and shook his head.
“I’m bored with that. Speaking of cheeseburgers… I like your style, Sam. Cheeseburger it is. Want anything?”
“No, there’s a coffee machine just down the way, near the reception office.”
“You drink that and you call the “Magic Fingers” a waste of money?”
Dean grabbed his keys and brown leather jacket and headed for the door.
“Catch ya later, Sam. You put ideas into my head. I’m after that cheeseburger now, and maybe… some pie!”
Sam watched as Dean shut the door behind him, once again, shaking his head in disgust.
Castiel was nearly at the café as he walked along the side of the road, enjoying the cool, clear night and the spectacle of the moon and stars. He gazed at the sky with wonder. What beauty my Father has created for these humans. Seeing through human eyes was different from that of an angel. Passing traffic blew a cool breeze past him that carried the scent of what he suspected was food cooking away at the cafe. He stomach growled.
“Hot Blooded” was playing on the radio in Dean’s car as he pulled up and stopped at the trucker’s café. He was singing along while bobbing his head and parking. Dean turned off the ignition after he parked the car.
“I’m hot blooded! Hot blooded!“ he sang to himself.
He checked his reflection in the rear view mirror and saw something he neither wanted to see, nor expected: A figure walking toward the café dressed in a trench coat.
His stomach felt funny suddenly, so he put on a confident “fuck you” look and thought about which weapons to even bother to bring with him. He remembered that it was pointless to try to arm himself, but he still had the handy demon-killing knife slipped it into its leather sheath on his belt. Never show ‘’em any weakness, Dean, besides, it can’t be him, can it? And what the fuck does he want now?
He got out of the Impala and slammed the door shut.
“Hello, Dean Winchester,” he heard just before entering the café, and quickly turned around.
Oh crap. It is him.
“Oh, hey, uh… Wings… sans Mc Cartney,“ Dean replied sarcastically
“You may call me Castiel,” the angel responded quietly. “You are still thinking about what we spoke of earlier, are you not?”
“You know, it’s not exactly as if I’m hard up and unemployed at the moment, I’ve… I’ve got a pretty stable job already, in case anybody didn’t notice,” he announced skyward. “You know, saving people? Killing things? I can’t just drop a sweet gig like this and take on another major job. So what if it doesn’t have a health insurance plan!” Dean sighed heavily. Who’s supposed to be listening anyway, dumbass? “Hey, Castiel, maybe you could get a message to your boss?”
“I’m glad you’re still thinking about your new work, but I must ask a small favor of you just now, Dean Winchester. I’m feeling hungry and I have never been to a place such as this. Could you please help me? I would be most grateful.”
“You can call me Dean,” he said, and suddenly, surprisingly, his fear left him and his stomach even felt a little better. Dean sighed again. “C’mon, just… follow me in,” he said as he looked Castiel up and down and shook his head at Castiel’s clothes and speech.
Castiel followed closely behind, being unaware of the concept of “personal space”. Dean, feeling uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed at having Castiel‘s side pressed against his, put a little more space between the two of them as he stood at the counter. He looked around, grabbed a menu and shoved it into Castiel’s.
“Here. This’ll keep you busy,“ he said, noticing how warm Castiel‘s hand was as he accidentally brushed his own hand against it.
Castiel took the menu and began to peruse it. His blue eyes grew wide and he looked overwhelmed as he held the sticky menu.
“You look kinda like a salad sort of guy. Maybe even organic vegan!” Dean assessed Castiel, finding himself looking a little too deeply into his blue eyes.
Castiel’s stomach did a flip, and was confused by Dean‘s remark, “I do not know those words. I’m just hungry, Dean”
The waiter, an older man of about retirement age stepped up to the cashier’s counter and asked, “What you boys be wantin’ tonight?“
The old man’s greasy salt-and-pepper hair was slicked-back and shone from the lights above, at least what wasn’t covered by his white and orange paper hat.
Dean stepped up to the counter and said confidently, “Two cheeseburgers with everything and make that to go.”
The waiter took the order and money that Dean had paid him immediately.
“Won’t be too long,” he said as he walked away with the order slip in his wrinkled, age-spotted hand.
Dean looked over at Castiel, still staring at the oversized menu.
“Oh, I forgot to ask you ‘for here or to go?’ How’d you get here anyway? Did you fly? Boy, your wings must be tired.” He couldn’t help but throw in the disgustingly cheesy joke.
Castiel was unaffected by the remark about his wings.
“I walked here from a nearby motel that I’m staying at. It is a room with a television,” Castiel answered apprehensively. He didn’t really like to reveal his whereabouts to just anyone, but Dean Winchester wasn’t just anyone, according to his Father.
“Great,” Dean interrupted sarcastically. “At least I can give you a lift back.” He rolled his eyes, but then realized he could be doing his own kind of research and finding out more about his new acquaintance. “Now let me see.. A television, eh? Sounds pretty swanky to me. Would that happen to be at the luxurious Greenwood Motor Inn?”
“That would be most convenient, Yes, that is the name of the motel. ‘Swanky’? It will serve its purpose if that is what you mean, “ He answered distractedly, “It’s such a beautiful night, don’t you think? I enjoyed the walk here…The sky…”
Dean looked out and up at the sky. You know… he’ s right. Stop and smell the roses and all that. You‘ve just had your ass yanked out of hell. He gave Castiel a half-smile.
“Yeah… I guess so,” Dean interrupted
The old waiter appeared again at the counter with Dean’s order and Dean quickly exited the café, leaving Castiel tagging behind. Castiel managed to get into the Impala without any assistance, even though Dean had stuffed the bag of food into one of Castiel’s hands. This was Castiel’s first ride in a car.
“So where exactly are you staying, Castiel?” Dean asked before Castiel could have a chance to find out where he and Sam were staying. He wanted more information about Castiel “How about I join you for dinner?” Dean asked.
“I’m in room number 226, and yes, you may join me for dinner.“
“How convenient,“ Dean said, “I mean, it’s so close by,“ neglecting to tell Castiel that he and Sam were staying in the very same motel, only on the first floor corner unit.
The drive back to the motel was fairly quick and silent, although Dean and Castiel exchanged glances several times. Neither of them knew what to make of that. Dean felt butterflies in his stomach, but he figured that was one of the effects of being in the presence of an angel, if he was indeed an angel. That’s what he wanted to think for now.
Dean parked the Impala several doors down from the room in which he and Sam were staying.
The room looked nearly the same as their own, Dean noticed as he popped his head through the doorway first, looking around for anything suspicious. He found nothing and went in, seating himself comfortably on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Castiel brought the bag in and set it on the table near Dean, to the side of his dirty boots.
“Yeah, great place you got here, Cas,“ Dean said, “He said as he began unloading their burgers from the bag. “One for you and one for me,” he said and handed Castiel a cheeseburger.
Castiel tipped his head to the side for a moment at the name “Cas”, as he seated himself closely next to Dean on the couch.
“My name is Castiel, not Cas,“ he said matter-of-factly.
“No offense there, man,“ Dean said grabbing his burger out of the bag, quickly unwrapping it.
He felt trapped because Castiel had seated himself a little too closely to him for his comfort, but there was nowhere to go. Castiel had sat so closely that their thighs would occasionally meet. He immediately started to nervously stuff his face with the cheeseburger, as was his habit.
“No offense taken, Dean.”
Castiel watched Dean and ate almost as greedily as him, partly taking direction from him and partly overwhelmed by the delicious food he finally had.
“So how’s that meat suit working out for you, Cas?”
“Castiel,“ he corrected Dean, “It is a vessel, and it seems to be working just fine, but I’m troubled, Dean.”
“What, no owner‘s manual come with it?” Dean asked sarcastically.
“Well, it is not the vessel, that troubles me, Dean, but some of the things I saw on the television. I saw a lot of things on the television that disturbed me and confused me and…”
“Whoa! Whoa! I’m not going there! I’m especially not explaining that pay-per-view business! You‘re on your on there!”
“It is not what you think, but I understand, Dean. I am sorry if I offended you.”
“I’m not offended, I just gotta go, Dean said a little nervously. “Research, you know. I need to help Sam out with research on a case. We’ve got just a ton of books to get through. Really, I should be going.“
Dean wanted to stay, but not to be explaining porn to an “angel of the Lord“, for chrissakes, he just wanted to observe this new creature on his own turf for a little while, though it wasn’t only the pay-per-view business that unnerved him. He almost felt as if he were on a first date. He put the remainder of his burger down on the coffee table.
He didn’t need to be in fear for his life. According to this Castiel character, he had literally risen from the grave and fallen into favor with God, believer or not, but something else just nagged at him. It was something in Castiel’s eyes and he felt that weird connection again, but he just didn’t want to go there now.
“As you wish, Dean. I will show you to the door,” Castiel said as he got up slowly and walked toward the door, looking more often at his feet than the door.
This confused Dean. This was all confusing to Dean. He wanted to run and he wanted to stay and find out more. He was torn and his stomach was churning.
“Will we be seeing you again soon?” Dean asked sincerely as he stood just outside the door. He made sure to use the word “we”.
“Yes, you will be seeing me again very soon, Dean,“ Castiel said as he looked directly and deeply into Dean’s green eyes.
Time seemed to stop or move in slow motion, and Dean suddenly found himself a moment later, in front of a closed door, blinking, his long lashes fluttering with the number 226 appearing before him. He realized then that he‘d received something he‘d certainly never had before, nor ever expected: a very chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth from Castiel.
He now stared at the number 226 on the closed door before him.
He kissed me?! Castiel?! An angel?! Does this count as another man?! Oh, hell yes, it does! Holy crap! I guess I shouldn’t think that. Or should I? Am I being spied on right now? And with the chaos in his head, he quickly turned on his heel, and ran down the hallway toward the stairs, holding his flushed and burning cheeks with his hot hands.