hardhearted | ic inbox ; exitvoid

What do you think?

[ babygurl pls. ]

Well.

I think we should not think about it right now.

Smartest thing you've said during this conversation.

[ this is the part where he'd usually hang up and go back to doing something angry, but he lingers... ]

[ He hesitates, contemplating it rather heavily. They really haven't done this in so long... ]

Do you want to come over?

As long as I don't walk in on one of your weird gatherings.

Only you and me - I promise.

Be there in 15.

[ All there is to do is wait.

It's not as if it's an unfamiliar concept, though he's certainly a lot more restless now that Dean has actually agreed to see him. The emotional whiplash is astonishing, but he's grown accustomed to it after so many years. Rather than send a reply, Castiel busies himself with unimportant details--straightening things, organizing the growing collection of useless items he's amassed since arriving, setting two bottles of the stuff his other self had graciously left with him several days ago. The contents are strong, but one might not be enough.

His mouth curves in a slight smile, though it quickly disappears by the time he's outside the room waiting for him. Relaxed, shoulder pressed to the wall and arms crossed. It's how he's greeted when he sees him, body eventually straightening itself out. ]

I'm glad you came. [ He had entertained the idea that Dean might have ditched him. ]

[ dean thinks about not showing up, about just finding himself a bottle of something poisonous and strong, taking a night for himself. but then, there's something about the idea of hanging out with cas, just the two of them that sits right with him for once. maybe it's the conversation they'd just had, or what had happened earlier, but for once lonely anger isn't dean's go-to thing.

he still looks guarded when he finally arrives, finds cas leaning against the wall. ]

If you say so.

[ beat. ] For your sake I hope you have something strong.

[ He frowns at the words. If you say so. Perhaps the validation isn't warranted, but it's nice to be believed once in a while. Castiel wonders if they are too far beyond this, no longer able to repair the damage done by years of necessity and a few weeks of misunderstanding. Either way, he swallows it and tilts his head in the direction of the door adjacent them, still slightly ajar. ]

We should go inside and find out.

[ There's that smile now, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, and he pushes from the wall to turn away and enter the room. ]

[ dean can't quite help himself, not even now that they've come to some kinda of mutual... something. he's still on edge, feels snappish at best and tired, weary at worst. ]

I'm almost surprised you're alone.

[ emphasis on can't help himself. dean looks around the small room, the layout much like his own, and then settles his hard gaze on cas again. ]

But then I guess everything is different here.

[ There's a careless roll of his shoulders at the comment, maneuvering around the room to grab at one of the bottles. He doesn't have the power to will it open as the angel had, so he uses the edge of his shirt and slowly twists until it pops free. The smell is strong and a quick reminder just how little it had taken for the alcohol to seep into his blood.

Castiel leaves the other and takes a drink, smooth as you please. He offers it to him, intent on sharing. ]

Would you have preferred it to stay the same?

[ dean looks at cas for a beat before taking the offered bottle. there isn't any hesitation before he brings it to his lips, takes a long swig... and whatever this stuff is, it's hard, as him hissing a quiet but almost pleased sound. ]

Things were simpler.

[ they had a goal, one mission. here he has sam, who hates him, and himself, who hates him, and castiel, who hates him.

8[ ]

[ As Dean drinks, Castiel helps himself to a seat on the edge of his bed. Usually, he would have preferred the floor, but at that angle, he wouldn't have been on nearly equal ground as the other man. Like this, he can look at him and not feel... small. ]

Things are never really simple, Dean. [ Not as they had been once. ] But, at least, there are some constants to all of this.

[ Him, them. They are here, and whether or not they find another mission, some common ground to share, they're together. What more is there to ask for? ]

[ dean lingers, lets the alcohol burn his throat in a way that's mostly been a distant memory for a while now. but he needs it, desperately, for the alcohol to wash away the past few weeks. ]

Constants we can lose.

[ to death, to the horrors that seem to cling to their lives no matter where they go. it's a bit of a mod killer, but dean's just... pointing that out. a pause later he pulls over a chair, turns it and sits down, legs on either side as he straddles it, arm coming to rest on the back of it. ]

Don't get too comfortable, is all I mean.

[ Despite the truth, he blinks at the words in an attempt to understand them. Dean is... concerned they might lose it? Lose each other? It's reading too much into it probably, so he only shifts forward a bit to clasp his hands together and rest them between his knees. ]

There is nothing comfortable about this place, so I doubt that will be a problem.

[ But it's said softly, not an ounce of irony in something that might have once held it. He tips his head down to stare at the floor, still trying to piece together the words. Conversation had come naturally before, and even in their silences, it hadn't felt strained. Now, it's a noticeable difference Castiel isn't sure how to contend with. ]

Are you... [ His eyes flicker in his direction. ] How are you?

[ it's really just pointing out fact, more than anything. or that's how he excuses it to himself, anyway. it's the second question that has dean pausing, like he doesn't understand it. why is cas--

why is he asking something that should be obvious? he peers at the other man, like he expects it to be a trick or something, but when nothing but patient, silent waiting is his answer, dean shifts, shrugging his shoulders tensely. ]

Does it matter? [ not really, if you ask dean. he'd killed his brother, he deserves to feel like shit for the rest of forever. ]

[ It may seem obvious, but Castiel doesn't want to assume. They've gotten so good at ignoring the important things that something so minor appears out of place like this. He spreads his hands and stares at them. ]

It has always mattered. [ Whether Dean believes it or not isn't significant. He has always held fast to that. ] There is no one else but us.

[ How many times he has to say it, he doesn't know. Because they are dead, and the others... Well, they could hardly relate to either of them or the things they've had to do to survive. A pause, and he stands so he can go through the bag at the foot of his bed without a word of explanation. ]

[ dean still simply looks at cas with barely hidden wariness, shifting slightly in his chair. he wants to point out that now there is more than just them -- maybe not in this room, in this moment -- but cas has a choice now. he could follow the other dean, the one he likes.

but then, they've already had that discussion.

when cas gets up, dean straightens a little, watching carefully. ]

You gonna roll a joint?

Would you share it with me if I did?

[ There's a touch of amusement to his voice in that question, positive he knows the answer without really asking. Still, he hasn't managed to find anything like that since coming here, and it would have been careless of him to shove it in the duffel with an assortment of other things necessary to kill the devil.

He finds what he's looking for rather quickly and palms it, fingers curling tight so Dean can't see. ]

I said I had something for you. [ Castiel moves closer now, extending his free arm out to him expectantly. ] I need your hand.

[ a look. l:

actually, he might but maybe not today. if life keeps being as shitty as it has lately, well, ask again.

it's the request for his hand that has dean pausing and raising a brow, not moving as instructed. ]

Why? What're you hidin'? [ don't tell him it's a blade and you're gonna chop it off. he kinda needs it for shooting and... other things.... ]

[ He only rolls his eyes, holding fast to the way his fingers tuck the object against his palm. ]

Please trust me. [ Because that's all he's asking here, all he's ever asked, and honestly, it's what he thinks they borh need right now. Granted, this gift isn't a good substitute, but... It's all he has. ] Your hand, Dean.

[ He's too stubborn to explain. Don't test him. ]

[ don't you roll your eyes at him!!! but dean only sighs, sound frustrated as he...finally does hold out his hand. whatever this is, he's not digging it so far, not when nothing is being explained. ]

Well?

[ His smile is small, but there is no hesitation in his taking Dean's hand, almost lightly pressing with his own fingers before smoothing the other man's out gently. Just a careful inspection, really, and then, he's pushing a ring with a particular symbol on its face down his pinkie. It's small, originally belonging to a woman he should never have taken it from. But that is his business, wanting him to take it without any strings attached.

Castiel traces the lines of it for a second or two--only to make sure it's not too tight. ]

It's, uh... [ for someone with faith in nothing ] It should bring you luck.

[ He doesn't let go just yet. ]

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