freewill | [Entranceway] IC Contact

[It's not exactly a surprise that Cas doesn't pick up. Dean spares a moment to arch an eyebrow at that voicemail recording, but then the machine beeps and there's an awkward pause.]

Cas. Listen-

[No, wait, that's shitty. He's not trying to bark out orders.]

Look, I didn't mean-

[He blows out a breath.]

I'm sorry, alright? About the whole thing. Just... check in, would ya?

[Castiel is where he's been for most of the time that's passed since their argument, which is the Resistance hideout.

As it turns out, not many people come here when it's not the full moon, and if anyone does decide to make use of the bunker, it's easy enough for Castiel to either make himself invisible or leave before he notices they're there.

But that is where he is. Not inebriated, for the moment, but he isn't quite willing to have a real-time conversation with Dean.

For once, text is useful.]

Checking in.

[His phone buzzes. Not rings, not vibrates, just the short blerp blerp of a text message.

Oh, come on.]

Seriously? You're texting now? On purpose.

Your point being

[Castiel isn't going to make this easy. Although he still doesn't know how to use a question mark.]

You know what, nevermind.

[Dean might be a tactless idiot, but even he knows better than to point out certain qualities Cas might or might not have in common with a teenage girl right now.]

It's been like a week and a half, man. It's real hard to kiss ass when there's no ass to kiss

[Which is purposeful, naturally. Castiel hasn't wanted much interaction in general, let alone with Dean. The thing about angels is that they can sit and stare at the wall for hours upon hours if they're in the right mood, and that's been Castiel's state of mind for the mentioned week and a half.

The up side being that he's slowly let his future transgressions sink in. That doesn't mean that he's accepted it, or that he's in any way okay with it, but...]

You dont need to kiss anything, dean

[Which is exactly what Dean is worried about. He was there when the guy was half suicidal, and the hits just keep on coming. He sighs, taps the phone against his forehead a few times.]

You were right, alright? And you're not the first person to say it. Can we please just talk about this with actual words and not freakin text speak?

[Castiel's more or less grown tired of fighting with his keyboard by now, and so he switches the conversation over to a video feed.

He's seated at the long table in the bunker, and it's clear that he's alone. A liquor bottle of two may be visible on screen as well, though it's not intentional.]

Right about what?

[The feed flicks on and Dean takes the time to survey the background with a critical eye. One eyebrow arches pointedly at the liquor bottle off to the side, but he doesn't say anything.]

This isn't exactly what I meant.

[But whatever, he'll take what he can get. He flops back on the bed and scrubs a hand over his face.]

You were right about this place being tempting.

[He admits finally.]

All the people here- Jo, Ellen, Blake. Cas, my mom and dad've been here. Bobby's been here. They might come back again, hell, Sam's healthy here. I don't- I never have planned on staying, you know I wouldn't, but sometimes... I guess it's just easier to not think about leaving it all behind.

Edited 2013-12-12 03:41 (UTC)

[Oh, Castiel realizes what Dean had meant, that he wanted a face-to-face conversation, but he doesn't want to be back in Dean's room yet.

Still, he can easily make out that Dean's there at the moment, and there's a pang -- because if it hadn't been for that argument, he would have been and out of there just as frequently as usual.

As Dean admits to something they both already knew to be true, Castiel slowly nods.]

I understand why the urge to remain here is so strong, Dean. [But it's that Thanksgiving holiday that had pulled it from the back of his mind to the forefront. In a way, this discussion has been a long time coming.]

You get that we're gonna get out, right? We're gonna go home, all of us, just as soon as we find a way to pull the plug. No question.

[He drops his hand and levels Cas with a serious look. It's just like he told James, and he'll swear it up and down until he's blue in the face- this place is easy, but he's still looking. He's still ready and willing to sacrifice it all at the end of the day to get them and everyone else home. No matter what. No matter how comfortable or happy he feels here.

And there's some hesitance there, as well, just tugging at his tone because of the next little topic he wants to bring up.]

[In theory, yes, eventually they'll have to return. But Castiel's come across a few people, like Philip, who have been here for years. It may not matter so long as they make it back home at one point or another, but...]

We pull the plug, or this place sends us back and takes our memories in the process.

[Which means he'll return and make the same mistakes he's already been warned about here. Dean's already told him how the plan failed the first time, and as far as research goes, Castiel hasn't come across any leads on how to retain his memories.

It's a thought that's been wearing on him ever since Dean broke the news.]

Yeah.

[He agrees grimly. Which is the perfect segue for what he's been leading up to, actually.]

About that...

[His eyes dart away from the screen for a second, then level again on Cas's face.]

I was gonna tell you, man. I swear. I just... it seemed pointless to drag you down with it when there's nothing you can do about it. Not yet.

[Castiel's expecting the explanation, the halfway-there apology, and to an extent he can even understand Dean's reasoning. In the heat of the moment Castiel had been upset that Dean would keep something so important from him, but having had over a week to think about it, he at least sees where Dean's coming from.

Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean he agrees, but there's something to be said for empathy.]

But I might be able to do something about it. I can do research here on ways to reserve it. We could make plans. It would be better than going into it blind, Dean.

[Which drags them right back to the problem with lost memories. But if Dean's going to carry on as if he'll remember all of the "good times" here, then Castiel might as well try to make the best of it on a strategic level.]

[Dean's lips press together like he's not quite on board with what Cas's saying. And he's not, because they can plan and research all they want, but until they find a way to retain those memories, it doesn't matter. All Cas is going to do is obsess over something he's got zero control over for the forseeable future, and it's going to weigh on him night and day.

He's on thin enough ice as it is, though, so he just shakes his head.]

Yeah, maybe.

[He relents reluctantly, for once taking the miracle road of non argument. Cas already knows what the roadblock there is.]

[Castiel can see that Dean's tempted to argue, but apparently they've had enough of that for now, seeing how he holds his tongue.

And it's true, he already knows all of the obstacles, but Castiel thrives on having a goal. And it seems like his normal state of being these days is trying to make up for his mistakes, so he can't even say he's surprised with the news. Just... disappointed.

He stares down at his lap for a few seconds before finally looking back to the screen.]

I realize I haven't done it yet, but still... I'm sorry. For not listening to you.

[And here he thought he'd learn his lesson.]

[He's quiet for a second at the apology. It might not be the first time Cas has apologized for shit- maybe this particular incident, sure, but not ever. Still, the words coming now, not at the height of a mistake, not prefacing the request for help fixing it, not desperate, just... sincere. They mean more, somehow, than they ever really have.

He breathes out, and a lot of the resentment he's been harboring goes with it. Not all of it, and it's by no means even scratching the surface of the shit they have to deal with, but it still.... means something.]

It's not your fault.

[He mutters finally, voice quiet.]

You were doing what you thought was right. You were doing the best you could at the time, and-

[A beat, where he chews on his words, huffs, and finally reluctantly admits:]

I'm not exactly the best communicator on the planet, either.

[It's true, getting an apology from Castiel is very difficult. Not because he's too proud for them, but because words are and always will be a struggle for him. He never knows when and how to say something to make it right.

Hence how this entire mess started. He's the one who'd sparked that argument, not Dean.]

That may be something we both need to work at improving.

[Not that Castiel has the slightest idea of how to do that, but... this conversation on its own may be a good start. The two of them may fight a lot, but that's always how it's been, and it might be for the best that he got all of his concerns off his chest.]

How... [He pauses, clears his throat.] How have things been?

Pff, yeah. Especially you.

[He responds immediately, eyebrow quirking up. That's just barely detectable teasing, given away by that trace amount of amusement in his voice.

He moves on, though, shrugs a little.]

Ehhh, you know.

[Scratches at his cheek distractedly. Falters just a beat too long, like he's considering something, then dismisses it.]

Same old same, I guess. You?

[It isn't much of an answer, but seeing how no events have gone on, it's possible there really isn't anything to report.

Castiel hasn't even been paying any attention to the broadcasts on his phone. Not until getting this voicemail, at least. No one has bothered to contact him, though that's hardly surprising. He has a tendency to make himself scarce from time to time, so most people wouldn't think anything of his absences. ]

A lot of... alcohol, mainly.

[He shrugs, apparently not sure of what else to say.]

...Right.

[Dean responds slowly, maybe a little skeptically. Cas and alcohol are never, ever a particularly good mix, but he's not exactly in any position to judge a man drowning his annoyances in booze.

He sighs.]

Look, whenever you're, you know, done coping or whatever, just... come on back, okay?

[The less asked about Castiel's drunken episodes, the better. The short version is that it's not pretty and he'll need to clear out a literal mountain of bottles from this place before anyone shows up. At least those aren't visible from where he's seated.]

I will. I'll come back. I always come back, Dean.

[He says that mournfully, with a sad smile at the side of his mouth. And with that, he ends the call.]

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