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26: [Action] Dazed and Confused

[ Dean is only a little twitchy. He never really feels like he needs things, but right now he's lacking. Something. Something big. It's not starvation, because when he's hungry, he gets food. When he wants sex, he finds Cas. Dean doesn't get cravings because he's always well-fed.

But what he needs right now is people.

So Dean is wandering around the grounds for the most part, trying to locate the people he needs. He could be in the parlour, fixing a drink. He could be kicking at the edge of the hedge maze, contemplating going inside but unwilling to risk not being able to find his way out again without a bag of peanut M&Ms to leave as a trail guide. He could even be in the kitchen, trying (and failing) to cook something to keep his mind off of everything.

He's that restless.

Good luck. ]

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He gets needing others. Sam and Bobby. Ellen and Jo. But Castiel's expression of desperation is looking less like a simple desire and more like a suggestion that Dean doesn't quite make the cut. He doesn't fit the mold. To someone with a low an opinion of himself as Dean Winchester, the look on Castiel's face is like a neon sign saying You're not good enough.

"Really."

Arms folded across his chest, brow furrowed, Dean stares at him. He doesn't understand any better than Cas (probably worse, actually, which is pretty pathetic), and the idea that the event is screwing with emotions has yet to cross his mind.

"Planning on branchin' out, huh?"

[Oh, he is not touching that shit with a fifty-foot pole.]

Whatcha got in there, Russki?

[Gotta hand it to Russia, though - he did select the most all-American guy here.]

If it's a nuclear weapon I think I'm gonna steer clear.

Cas almost asks, startled at the harsh tone, what Dean means. But he's not quite that naive, not anymore, and it doesn't take him long to realize what Dean is implying.

His face hardens and his tone flattens.

"So you would deny me what you yourself already have." Dean doesn't really have a right to be distressed, here. He has everything he needs: a lover, a close friend, even a nemesis in that close friend's mental passenger.

Castiel has never before now felt jealous of Dean for these things.

Then another thought occurs to him. Maybe... maybe Dean's mood is because he doesn't feel his choice of lover is sufficient. Maybe he's already found an alternative he prefers. Maybe he wants Cas to branch out, because he's done with him.

His voice threatens to waver from its flatness when he says, "Very well, then. I... see I am no longer necessary to you."

The Hell is he talking about, denying him something? If they're perfectly happy together, then why does Castiel need someone else? Dean doesn't like to come off as a jealous guy, because he isn't, and thinking that there's someone else who can provide for Cas whatever he can't is a little irritating.

"No longer necessary? I'm the one here that's always at the bottom of the damn food chain, Cas. But hey - I get it."

Pulling a race card, Cas? Not cool.

"I'm not good enough for an angel, am I? At the end of the day, I'm just another meatsuit. A broken one, too, 'cause I'm a handsome bastard with a coupla parts missing, huh?"

Dean's always felt as though he didn't really deserve Castiel. For fuck's sake, why would anyone that holy want to be with him? He doesn't even know what he does in Hell, and he's sure that whatever it is doesn't warrant a Get Out of Jail Free card.

[ The creepy Dexter-esque smile broadens at being called Russki. So much hate so much beautiful hate. ]

No! Is good guess though.

[ He looks a little disappointed that it isn't a nuclear weapon, but quickly bounces back. ]

Would do you well to open window. Then you will not risk stepping on shards of glass.

No, that- that was later, I... appeared somewhere inside. I don't think I even changed floors when I picked my room, but--

[ Looking back he has to shake his head. That was an interesting moment to say the least. ]

The first day was a bit chaotic. I thought it was all just another hallucination.

[ That he'd passed out again and just never woke up. Sometimes he still thinks about that. And sometimes he can't believe he believes that it's all real. ]

What about you? [ Beat. ] I mean, where did they place your teleport?

Castiel is tired of trying to bludgeon Dean's worth, how beautiful and precious he is no matter the state of his physical form, into his head. Sure, he could do so yet again; what's one more time, right?

But he's tired of it. So he doesn't. If Dean hasn't gotten it by now, maybe he won't ever, and his self-worth shouldn't rely on another person, anyway. At least that's what Castiel tries to tell himself, reassure himself with. Dean has other people to surround himself with, other people that seem to be sufficient for him. Cas has only Dean, and he somehow, suddenly, isn't enough, so it stands to reason the fault lies with him.

Not that he says any of this aloud. "I am sorry if that is what you think," he answers instead, quietly.

"And you don't?" Dean demands, angrier because Castiel isn't even fighting. He's just standing there, accepting it. Like he's verifying that it's true; it's all true. "How can you not say anything?" he snarls, infuriated by the quiet, single-sentence replies.

Dean has seen Castiel's emotions. He knows that the angel has them. It's as though he's refusing to show them in an effort to distance himself from the problem.

Obviously, Dean is the problem. He's always the problem. It's why everyone leaves him.

"...yeah, okay. I see how it is. Fine."

He throws his hands up.

"Jump ship while you still can."

Aaaaand that's it, Cas snaps.

"What do you want me to say?" he snaps back, sharp and bitter and hurt. "You obviously have it all figured out. It doesn't seem to matter what I tell you, because you'll believe whatever you choose about yourself anyway."

He keeps speaking, not letting Dean cut him off. "I fail to understand how you can claim that everyone leaves you when you are the one of us who has everyone you need. I have no one but you." I thought I needed no one but you.

And now Dean is discarding him like unneeded baggage.

"But think what you will."

Yeah, geez.

[Waking up in strange places isn't a big favorite of Dean's - he's always in a different place every week because of his lifestyle, but if it was a drastic change then he'd be willing to bet a whole lot of money that it'd freak him out.]

I showed up in my room. [Dean shrugs.] It was exactly the same as the one I'd been stayin' in - we were on a case with some haunted house at the time - and it didn't seem weird until I looked out the window and realized I was ten friggin' stories up.

[Talk about a nightmare for a guy who doesn't do heights.]

Man, you shoulda seen me. I left a transmission like it was a goddamn zombie apocalypse.

[ Philip never thought about it. Maybe he simply assumed Dean would have kept his cool, but now? That sounds like an image worth contemplating. He grins. ]

I suddenly wonder if there is a way to access old transmissions.

He's not trying to get rid of Castiel. Dean is scared that he'll lose him to someone else because he's just not good enough. Assuming that Castiel thinks the same - because who wouldn't, really? If you were some kind of magnificent celestial being stooping low enough to associate with a human? Frankly, Dean is impressed they managed to last this long. He was terrified that Cas would leave him months ago.

The only other person from his own dimension, and he's from a part of the lore that Dean isn't familiar with. He still doesn't know him. Not really.

"I have everything I need?" Dean huffs a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Hilarious. That's a good one. Keep tellin' yourself that, featherhead. I'm sure there's somebody else here who'll fit the bill for you better than me."

It hurts to say this, too, and he doesn't know why even if he is jealous of someone he doesn't know - someone else who probably doesn't even exist.

[ HA OH THAT IS SO HILARIOUS but not really. BI ]

Yeah, real funny. I had things under control, Mr. Lucy-in-the-Sky-With-Diamonds.

[Except for the part where his two first contacts were teenagers; one of whom had a crush on him for a solid three months, the other...the other...was Santana, so. There it is, then.]

Cas doesn't even deign to acknowledge the featherhead comment. "There is no one else," he answers flatly.

"But I see now I was wrong," he goes on, flatly because it's the only way to keep from breaking in front of Dean. "I should have known this would never work. That you and I could never be... this." His voice shakes near the end, and he falls silent.

He doesn't know now why he ever thought he and Dean could have something here that they don't have in the real world. Destiny, true destiny, can't be overcome.

[Open a window? What, is he crazy? Dean doesn't like the idea of glass in his hair, though.

He slinks over to said window and slides it up, stepping back warily.]

That they couldn't be anything? Right, right, because he's just human.

"Fuck this," Dean bites, raking a hand through his hair. "Fuck you, and...fuck everything, I shoulda known it was all too good to be true. Maybe you'll get lucky and another angel'll show up so you can screw around with it."

Because normal people can't possibly surmount to much for a Heavenly being.

"I'm outta here."

[ Russia is almost disappointed 8( He was really looking forward to bashing in the window.

Still he steps through, bag slung over his shoulder. IT'S JUST LIKE CHRISTMAS, DEAN ;w; (More like the Christmas with those freaky old people monsters who wanted to eat you.)

He grins at the wariness. ]

Why so cautious?

Like during a zombie apocalypse. I'm sure.

[ ...That was only half sarcastic, actually. Philip does have faith in Dean's interdimensional travelling skills. ]

Hey, um, so...

[ It's not often that they find something to talk about that doesn't directly or indirectly branch into trauma, so Philip is visibly pleased to have stumbles across something that sounds harmless enough. ]

Who was your welcome committee? You know, I mean, who were the first people you met here or- or talked to?

[Dean can travel interdimensionally backwards, forwards, and side-to-side, thank you very much.

Just not in a plane.]

Uh.

[That's, uh...yeah, that's a good place to start. Welcoming committees. Sure.]

Teenagers.

[Looking back, he's just a little ashamed of how worried he was about monsters jumping out from behind closed doors. Carrying a duffel bag of weapons around isn't the most discreet way to protect oneself and others. But, in his defense, he'd been new. Retrospect has a habit of making him feel like a prized tool.]

A cheerleader named Santana and a- [Tiny Gay Sam.] -musical theatre kinda kid named Kurt.

[How long has it been since he last talked to either of them? He spent a lot of time trying to adopt Kurt as a surrogate brother.

Dean's expression of "reminiscing" looks vaguely uncomfortable, though, but that's because he's remembering how many times he told Kurt that he wasn't gay.]

[You know what? Dean's dealt with pagan gods pretending to be the Anti-Claus, so he knows the deal here. Also you should never trust a large Russian even as far as you can throw him.

Which in this case wouldn't be very far at all.

Dean takes two steps back for every one step the Russki takes forward.]

'Cause you're kinda creepy, dude.

[Trigger finger...itching...]

Edited 2011-08-16 14:53 (UTC)

[ Philip takes only marginal notice of the vaguely uncomfortable look. Something else has caught his attention. ]

Yeah, she... Santana, I mean, I... know her.

[ He unwraps the jumbled mess of a sentence slowly, because after that he really isn't sure where he wants this conversation to go.

Philip almost counts the seconds, hoping that the need to dwell on that particular subject will pass in 21... 22... 23-- It doesn't. ]

I met her a few times myself, actually I- I actually just ran into her before I came down here and she--

[ He hesitates one last time. This is the thing you say after taking a deep breath, the thing you want to convey in a tone as neutral as possible, because there's probably a reasonable explanation or maybe it's you that's overreacting and yes, it's definitely that, you know it has to be, it's just that you-- ]

She asked me if an alien had eaten my eye because you told her that's what happened to yours.

[ It's just that you can't really stop yourself from feeling a little angry and betrayed. ]

[This is the expression Dean makes when he realizes that he's done something wrong, and at the time it had seemed perfectly reasonable - only now does it come full circle to bite him in the ass. He's beginning to see a pattern here.

Frantically, Dean tries to remember the when and the where of that particular conversation with She Who Cannot Keep Her Mouth Shut. If it had to do with missing eyes, then it was back when he was playing pirate in one of the first floor living rooms. He doesn't recall as much as he normally would, because admittedly he'd been drinking at the time...and taking pain pills, because this is a brilliant combination for those of us who would like to shut down our livers.]

Yeah...

[He begins hesitantly, because he doesn't really know where he's going with this himself.]

It was a few days after, and she, uh...she just asked what happened, all I told her was that I ran into an alien, and that I took care of it. That's all I said, man, no names.

[Dean's stupid, but not that stupid. He doesn't really blame Philip if he's upset, though. Dean's been there.]

I'm sorry, dude, I shouldn't've said anything, but she was askin' a whole lotta questions and that's what came out.

[Broaching the subject of "she also said a British guy with a knife came after her" might be a little difficult as well, but one hurtle at a time.]

[ Philip almost regrets mentioning the incident the moment those words pass his lips. He wouldn't have had to, if more time had passed and he'd been given a chance to think about the scenario. Really, what else was Dean supposed to say?

...Something further from the truth, at least Philip would certainly have preferred it that way. But when it comes down to it, isn't one half-truth as good as the other? ]

No, um... no, it's--

[ Philip frowns and rubs his temple. ]

It's fine, I just-- I was... just really startled when she brought it up, I almost--

[ He laughs weakly. ]

Tha girl... is really not good at minding her own business, is she?

[Relief hits Dean in the chest like a pro boxer with bricks in his gloves. There are some things that should never be shared with the general mansion public, and Philip's resident evil is one of them. Keeping that secret from everyone else is getting harder, but it shouldn't be unmanageable. They're clever guys, they can figure it out.]

You have no idea. [Dean groans, rumpling his hair.] She's gettin' a little too good at showing up at the worst possible times.

[Like when he and Castiel were participating in ~~bakery porn~~ questionable pastry-related recreation.]

And I don't remember being that forward in high school. Hard to believe she's friggin' sixteen.

It was all too good to be true.

This tells Cas two things: that Dean really did value what they had. That if nothing else, at least he wasn't being false. It also tells him Dean now considers it in the past. Such small things and yet so infinitely powerful, human words.

"Dean, I wouldn't-- Don't--"

But it's too late. By the time forces his own words out, Dean is gone.

Castiel stands alone in the kitchen for long, quiet minutes. His throat is dry and his eyes feel prickly. His chest heaves with ragged breaths he can't control, and suddenly he is acutely aware and acutely weary of his own vessel.

A blink, and the kitchen is empty. A moment every bit of glass in it shatters, thousands of fragments littering the floor and counters.

Then, finally, silence falls.

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26: [Action] Dazed and Confused

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