God Mend These Broken Wings Chapter Two

One Month Later

Dean stuffed his two dollar tip into the pocket of his busboy's apron without complaint.  He was lucky the old couple had left anything, he hadn't exactly been the best waiter in the world, and he knew it.

He didn't bother to fake smiles like the other waiters and waitresses did, he knew it would only come out as a grimace.  He managed not to sound like too big a dick when he took their orders, or came around to check for refills.  All in all, he figured he was lucky to get anything.

He haphazardly dropped their dirty dishes into his busboy's tray with a sigh, glancing at the clock as he strode towards the kitchen.  He stopped when he realized he should've clocked out fifteen minutes ago.  Time moves strangely for him sometimes when he's waiting tables.  He gets lost in the tedious work, which he supposes is good because it keeps him from thinking.

"You're still here?" his boss, April, asks him with a concerned wrinkle on her forehead.  Dean knows she worries about him, and he doesn't blame her.  These days he's not exactly the most fun guy to be around.

"Yeah, lost track of time," he said with a forced half smile.  He makes an effort to be nice to April.  He knows she probably already thinks of him as an extension of her family, as another one of her sons, even though he's only been working at the cleverly named April's Diner for two and a half weeks.  Three days in she'd saved him the last piece of her famous cherry pie, and she'd instantly been added to the very short list of people too nice to fuck with.

April studied him for a moment.  "Here, let me fix you a box to go before you leave," she said, already moving to grab a Styrofoam container.

"Aw, c'mon April, you don't gotta do that," he argued, although he knew it was a moot point, and he'd be going home with food no matter what.

"I know I don't have to, but I am anyway," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Thanks April, you're the best," he said, actually meaning the words as he said them.

"I am, and don't you forget it," she said with a smile as she began filling the box.

***

Ten minutes and two containers later, one for his meal and another for a hefty piece of hot apple pie, Dean was in his recently acquired '92 ford tempo and heading towards his tiny apartment.  The tempo had come from Bobby's salvage yard, and it was one of the few things that ran.  He'd rented the apartment about two days before he got the job at April's Diner, using at least half the cash he had stuffed in his duffel from various hustled games of pool for rent and used furniture.  The waitressing gig wasn't his only job, he also bartended on the weekends, and helped out at a small garage when they were shorthanded.

Dean pulled up at his ratty apartment building, grimacing at it's looming exterior.  He was convinced it was infested with rats, but so far it seemed to be completely empty of ghosts, so it was good enough for him.  He grabbed his food and slipped into the stairwell.  He breathed a sigh of relief that none of his neighbors were in it, he'd been able to avoid them so far, and he planned to keep doing it.  He didn't bother to check his mail box, there wouldn't be anything in it.

His apartment was tiny.  It had a small bathroom, a single bedroom, and a slightly larger open space that housed both kitchen appliances and room for a couch, chair, and television, all of which were second hand.  None of his furniture matched, and he'd lifted some cinderblocks from Bobby to use as a tv stand.  His bedroom was potentially worse.  He had a dresser with a missing bottom drawer, and a mattress just resting on the floor.

Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket before dropping down onto his couch, food in hand.  He flipped it open, not really expecting anything, but he blinked in surprise when he saw he had a missed call and a voicemail.  He checked the missed call first, knowing that's who the message was from.  The caller ID read 'Cas.'  Swallowing thickly Dean deleted the message without listening to it.  He opened the foam container and stared down at food he wasn't entirely sure he had an appetite for anymore.

***

Cas sat at Bobby's desk, glaring at the phones on the wall, willing one to ring.  He was bored, and that didn't sit well with him.  He'd been an angel of the lord, they didn't get bored.

If Cas was being honest with himself, and since he learned how to be human from Dean, he wasn't, he'd admit to feeling useless.  His only jobs were phone answering and research, but no one was calling and there was nothing to look up.

He sighed and then almost laughed at the frivolous nature of the act.  He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment before getting up and going outside.  As soon as he opened the door he was met with the sound of arguing.

"C'mon Bobby, we both know I need to know how to protect myself!" Adam was yelling.

"I agree, but I ain't teaching you.  You either get Dean to agree and teach you himself or you don't get taught," Bobby replied.

They were arguing about hunting again.  Adam wanted to hunt, but he knew he wouldn't survive without being taught a thing or two, and Bobby refused on the grounds that it was his brother's job and Dean didn't want him to live that life anyway.  They'd been at that Mexican standoff for the past month, but neither seemed willing to back down.

"Cas, tell him I need to learn to defend myself!"

Cas's eyes widened as he looked between the two.  "I believe you should learn to defend yourself, yes, but I don't think you should hunt," he said carefully.

Adam scowled at him.  "You're just saying that because Dean doesn't want me to hunt," he snapped before stalking inside, slamming the door behind him.

Bobby rolled his eyes at the closed door.  "I got no doubts that that boy is a Winchester," he grumbled, turning back to the car he was working on.  Cas had been surprised to learn that Bobby actually worked on the cars surrounding his house, he'd always assumed they were just an elaborate cover for hunting.

"He is very strong willed," Cas agreed solemnly.  Adam's words rang in his head and he wondered how true they were.  After all, Dean had charged him with watching over Adam, and while they were both assuming Dean didn't have long to live at the time, Cas couldn't break his word.  But was there more than that?

As he shook the thoughts from his head his hand smoothed over his jean's pocket, where he could feel his phone tucked away.  He ached to pull it from his pocket, to check to see if Dean had called him back, but he knew he hadn't, knew he probably wouldn't.

The movement didn't go unnoticed by Bobby.  "He ain't called you back, has he?" he asked, his voice almost uncharacteristically soft.

Cas pursed his lips.  "He's probably busy working," he said, instantly defending Dean.

Bobby studied him for a moment before leaning under the hood to tinker with something.  "He'll either come around or give up on everything," Bobby said, much too calmly for Cas's liking.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Bobby sighed and turned back to Cas once again, wiping his hands on an oil rag.  He adjusted his cap as he leaned back against the car.  "Way I see it, Sam made him promise him a few things.  And Dean's gonna try to fulfill those promises, but he's gonna do it the Winchester way."

"Winchester way?"

Bobby nodded.  "He'll either succeed or convince himself he tried hard enough.  I say it's the Winchester way 'cause that's the approach John took to raising those boys.  Pure dumb luck they turned out like they did."

Cas cocked his head to the side.  "Or perhaps they had an exemplary surrogate father who went above and beyond to mold them into who they are," he said, the truth being obvious to him.

"Yeah, I guess maybe I had something to do with it," Bobby conceded, not trying to hide the note of pride that filled his voice.  But like I was saying, he's either gonna make good on his promises or he's going to convince himself he did the best he could and then quietly eat his gun."

Cas narrowed his eyes at the old hunter before him.  "How can you say such things so calmly?"

"Because Dean's gonna try.  He's gonna do his damnedest to do what Sam wanted, and that means time.  If he gives up, it won't be anytime soon.  But I don't see his stubborn ass giving up."

Cas relaxed his shoulders, not realizing until then that they'd hunched up protectively.  "He'll call back when he has time," he said, going back to their original discussion.

"Why don't you try calling him on my home phone, invite him for supper tomorrow night?" Bobby asked tentatively.  Cas nodded and turned to head inside.  "An' make sure Adam's working on the books or doing something productive!" Bobby called over his shoulder as he reentered the house.

Adam was leaning on the kitchen counter, nursing a beer when Cas came back in.  His posture was so much like Dean's it stung.  "Cas," Adam said grabbing a beer off the counter and handing it to him.  Cas twisted the top off and took a long pull from the bottle.  The liquid tasted foul to him but if it was good enough for Dean it was good enough for him, so he drank it anyway.  "Listen man," Adam was saying.  "I'm sorry about earlier.  I shouldn't have said that stuff about you just wanting what Dean wants and being his puppet and all that."

Cas blinked at him.  "You didn't say I was his puppet."

Adam laughed.  "I didn't?  Well, I was thinking it, so sorry about that.  It's not true."

They both drank their beer for a moment, silent, before Cas turned to him.  "No.  It is true."  He turns his gaze to the floor now, embarrassed.  "I am essentially Dean's puppet.  It's just that…" he trailed off, trying to find a way to explain the feeling of loss he felt without someone, God or other angels, to guide him and how Dean had filled that void so perfectly, but Adam spoke before he could find the words.

"It's just that you're in love with him," Adam said softly.

Cas's head snapped up at that, his blue eyes boring into Adam's greens, the color of them not even holding a candle to Dean's even though the color was similar.  "In love with him," Cas stated flatly.

"Yeah?" Adam asked, seeming suddenly unsure of himself.  "I mean.  You are, right?  In love with Dean?"

Cas opened his mouth to say 'of course not,' but he stopped.  Was he in love with Dean?  He had given up everything for him.  He'd died for him.  He had literally defied heaven and fallen in Dean's name.  Surely that equated love, in human terms.  Cas knew it was devotion, and weren't they really one in the same?  "I don't know," he said instead of voicing all the things that had just gone through his mind.  "Love is a human thing."

"You are human though," Adam said gently.

Cas smiled ruefully.  "Yes, but I haven't quite acclimated yet."

***

Dean was half asleep on his threadbare couch when his cell phone started ringing.  He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket, only opening his eyes to glance at the caller ID.  The screen read 'Bobby' so he flipped it open.  "Hello?" he asked gruffly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Dean," said an all too familiar voice.

Dean stiffened, every muscle in his body tightening with tension.  "Cas?" he asked, even though he knew it was him.

"Yes."

"Cas… Why are you calling me?" he asked flat out, too tired to pussyfoot around.

"I wanted to see how you are."

Dean leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes.  "You wanted to see how I am?  I'm fucking great Cas, how are you?" he asked with a false brightness that had nobody fooled.

"Dean…"

"No, seriously Cas, why are you calling me?" he snapped.

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Dean almost regretted his harsh words.  Then Cas spoke.  "So you have been avoiding my calls on purpose," he said, a note of sadness tingeing his usually impassive voice.

"Yeah, Cas, I have.  Not really up to talking to an angel of the fucking lord after what happened," Dean snarled.

Again, there was silence, but this silence stretched so long that Dean had pulled the phone away from his hear to end the call when he heard Cas say his name, quiet and serious.  "Dean.  Please… Please remember that I fought with you.  I tried to help you avoid what happened, I didn't steer you towards it."

He said the words so calmly that Dean was on edge.  He wanted to scream, to throw his phone across the room and drive to Bobby's and beat the shit out of Cas.  But he also wanted to burst into tears and tell Cas not to pay attention to him, that Dean was a dick when he's hurting the most and that Cas was the easiest target because he cared so damn much.

He managed not to do either.  Instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.  "I know," he said softly.  "But…" he trailed off, not even sure himself where he was heading.  But you remind of the things that took my family from me?  But I need to hurt something and you're so breakable?  He didn't know, so he let the word hang.  "Look, Cas, I was kind of sleeping so… Was there a reason you called?"  It wasn't exactly polite, but compared to the earlier conversation Dean was being Miss Manners.

It seemed to be enough for Cas.  "Bobby, Adam and I would really like it if you would come to Bobby's for dinner tomorrow night."

Dean frowned and pulled his phone away from his face to check the date.  It was Wednesday.  Of course it couldn't be Thursday or Friday, when he could truthfully say he had to work at the bar.  His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he answered.  "Yeah, ok."

Something that sounded a lot like a sigh of relief came over the phone.  "Be here at 7," Cas said before hanging up.

Dean flipped his phone shut and dropped it on the floor in front of him.  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.  Dinner.  He could do that.

***

"We're moving to Sioux Falls," Becky said as she dropped the manuscript on Chuck's lap.

He blinked up at her, jaw slack.  "We're doing what now?" he asked slowly.

"We are.  Moving to.  Sioux Falls," she repeated, enunciating each word slowly.

That's what he thought she'd said, and he said as much.  "So, um.  Why?"

She dropped down on the couch next to him and stabbed furiously at the manuscript.  "Did you not read Swan Song?"

He blinked at her some more.  "I had the vision.  And I wrote.  But… Well, no, I didn't read it."

Becky rolled her eyes.  "Of course you didn't.  Chuck, don't you realize that we have to move to Sioux Falls?"

"Um.  No?"

"But that's where Dean and Castiel are!"

More blinking.  "I worry about where your brain goes."

She sighed and gave him a look that says he should really get with the program.  "Look, I know when we met I was all about the Wincest.  But that was before I read your manuscripts post No Rest For The Wicked.  I mean, Lazarus Rising just opened my eyes to Destiel, that's what I'm calling it by the way, clever huh?"  Chuck opened his mouth to comment, but Becky was already moving on.  "Besides, Swan Song, well it sort of sunk the good ship Wincest anyway," she finished, a frown marring her face.  "I mean, with Sam gone now and everything."

When it was apparent that she was finished, Chuck spoke up.  "I'm still lost.  I don't understand why we have to move to Sioux Falls."

Becky grinned at him, her crazy, fan girl grin that always managed to creep Chuck out, even though he was pretty sure he was in love with her.  "Duh!  We're going to get them together!"

"Oh.  Uh.  Ok," Chuck said uncertainly.

Becky clapped her hands together excitedly, before suddenly taking a very serious expression.  "Listen honey, while we're on the subject of your manuscript… Why do you insist on spelling it C-A-S-S when his name is spelled C-A-S-T-I-E-L  There's only one S there, so shouldn't it be C-A-S?"

Chuck calmly went back to his default setting of blinking at her with a dazed expression.