thursdays_angel | Entries tagged with castiel

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Castiel goes as far as the room next door. Still familiar--with its blue striped wallpaper and odd collection of objects and baseball cap on the closet door--in spite of, what feels to Castiel, like a long absence.

He feels something warm and wet slide down onto his lip and wipes at it, eying the smear of blood on his hand with a degree of consternation. Due to proximity, more of Dean's blows had landed than hadn't.

But no matter.

Castiel collects himself and closes his eyes.

"Michael. I am in need of your help."

The room is small and fairly plain. But it is comfortable, as humans judge such things. Castiel had asked Bar for “quiet” and this room somehow manages to exude it.

The view from the window is not terribly different from the view from his own. Which, Castiel reflects, it wouldn’t be. His own room is right next door. He has been standing at the window, appreciating the sight, for some time. It is good to see something other than Hell.

And he is still waiting for his charge to wake up.

Dean is laid out on the bed, dirt and smoke against clean muslin. He hasn’t stirred yet, but they have time here. And when he wakes, Castiel will explain what has passed, and then they can move forward in their respective missions.

They both have work to do.