Fic: I could while away the hours, part 5/? in Oz
I could while away the hours
3900 words, SPN Dean/Castiel slash. Spoilers for all of season 4.
Many thanks to zelda_zee, who does what she can with the nonsense I write.
Continuing my Welcome to Oz series. Master post of links here.
“You ready?” Dean asks. Dean and Castiel are standing at the Rockwells’ front door and Dean can hear the faintest buzz of chatter .
I could while away the hours
Day 1
“You ready?” Dean asks. Dean and Castiel are standing at the Rockwells’ front door and Dean can hear the faintest buzz of chatter wafting through from the backyard.
“My name is James Novak and I just moved in across the street at 12 Elysian Drive. I am very excited to be living here,” Castiel says in monotone.
“You sound like you’re reading cue cards, Cas-I mean, Jimmy,” Dean says. “But we don’t have time for Acting 101, so let’s hope the neighbors think you’re a nervous, awkward guy with no social skills.”
Castiel seems unperturbed by the prospect of being deemed the neighborhood weirdo. “And you, Dean?”
“I’m Dean Hardy and I’ve got a knife, salt, and a flask of the homemade holy water we brewed ten minutes ago.” Dean pulls open his jacket to reveal said items in a dramatic flourish, but Castiel is unimpressed.
Castiel does, however, give Dean a look. “You’ve decided to continue with Dean Hardy?”
“Well, we seem to be stuck in a Hardy Boys mystery, so I think it fits.” When Castiel doesn’t crack a smile, Dean shrugs. “It’s what I told the Rockwells. You should be grateful I didn’t go with Dick Hardon instead.”
“I do not see the point in the deception,” Castiel says. “If it is a trap, everyone will know who you are already.”
“You want me to impersonate a dead guy instead? I could tell people I’m Elvis, or Jesus.” Dean chuckles at Castiel’s slightly shocked and decidedly disapproving expression. “Finally got a reaction of you.”
Dean rings the doorbell, still chuckling, and a few minutes later, Norma Rockwell appears at the door. She greets them with unadulterated elation, “Why hello, Dean! And you must be Jimmy.”
“James,” Castiel says gravely. “I prefer to go by James.”
“Oh, why of course,” Norma says, shooting him a slightly puzzled smile. “Welcome to the neighborhood, James. My name is Norma, and my husband Ray is around here somewhere-probably grilling up some more hamburgers out back.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Norma,” Castiel says. “Thank you for your kind invitation.”
“I’m so happy you decided to come,” she beams.
“I hate to trouble you, Norma,” Dean says. “But I was wondering if I could use your phone?”
“Why certainly!” she says. “As long as it’s local!” Norma laughs and Dean joins in after a beat. She pauses, “You do know what the phones are only hooked up to a local network here, don’t you? They won’t connect to any outside lines.”
“What?” Dean does a double take. “How is that-you mean we’re completely cut off?”
“Well,” Norma says slowly, as if it’s all blindingly obvious. “There aren’t landlines all the way up here. And the nearest cell phone tower is thousands of miles away at the bottom of the mountain-we’re way outside of the coverage zone.”
“Wow,” Dean says flatly as all hopes of Sam coming to the rescue slip away. “That’s so convenient.”
After a slightly awkward pause, Norma says brightly, “Well, come on-I shouldn’t hog you too all to myself. The party’s in the backyard. I’ll take you to meet Ray and everyone else in the neighborhood.”
She ushers them inside and through the house. It seems similar in layout to Jimmy’s supposed house, and feels very normal and lived in. There are no satanic symbols, no human remains, and no Caspers lingering about. In short, the Rockwell home appears to be another slice of wholesome American goodness; the only oddity is the inordinate amount of sheep themed paintings, knickknacks and even furniture scattered throughout the rooms. Still, on the bizarre-scale, fluffy animal pictures rank pretty low.
The backyard, as it turns out, is massive-much larger than the one attached to Jimmy’s house. There’s a large tent set up and a crowded buffet line, tables and outdoor seating, and, most striking of all, a half-inflated hot air balloon.
“Whoa,” Dean says to Castiel. “How the fuck did we miss that?”
“Oh yes, that’s Jenny’s hot air balloon,” Norma says by way of explanation. “You see, it’s not only a welcome to the neighborhood party; it’s also a farewell to the neighborhood party.”
“You telling me someone’s getting out of this place in a hot air balloon?” Dean says. “Ever heard of planes, helicopters, or the 21st century?”
She laughs merrily. “Oh, Dean. There’s no airstrip here so where would a plane land? And as for helicopters, I find them far too noisy and difficult to navigate. Hot air balloons provide a much smoother and more pleasant ride, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Does everyone in this town have a balloon they may inflate and fly at will?” Castiel asks.
“Oh no,” Norma says. “No, Jenny brought her own up here. She’s quite the experienced hot air balloon navigator, apparently.”
“So this is a one way trip?” Dean says, eying tremendous balloon growing fuller by the second. The basket is striped red and white like a peppermint candy, while the balloon itself is a blue field spotted with white stars. “Farewell to Jenny forever?”
“I’m afraid so,” Norma says. “There’s no way back to Mountaindale once you’ve left.”
“Then you are aware that you are trapped at the top of a mountain?” Castiel says.
“Why of course!” she exclaims. “But I don’t think of it as being trapped-I think of it as fulfilling my patriotic duty.”
Dean blinks, not sure what to make of that statement, while Castiel continues, “If it is your patriotic duty to stay, then why is this woman leaving?”
“Because you’ve come, of course.” Norma smiles kindly at Castiel. “Mountaindale can support only a limited population of adults at any given time, you know. When one comes, one must go. It’s sad, but such is the way of things.”
Dean and Castiel exchange a glance as Norma escorts them into the middle of the yard. A flurry of introductions follow, filled with names and faces Dean doesn’t bother trying to remember, although Castiel seems to be earnestly trying. After about twenty minutes, Dean and Castiel finally make their way over to the punch bowl, away from the crowd of people and out of earshot. Castiel stands in front of Dean while he grabs some glasses and fills them with holy water from his flask. Dean passes the flask and a glass to Castiel.
“You should trip and bump into as many people as you can,” Dean says. “If anyone starts smoking I’ll probably notice, but just in case: yell.”
Castiel nods. “And what will you be doing?”
“Trying to talk our way into a hot air balloon ride,” Dean replies. He leaves Castiel by the punch bowl and heads over to where the surprisingly quiet balloon pump is running with a young woman crouched over it.
“Hey,” Dean says, and the young woman turns to straighten and face him. She’s a strikingly lovely Asian girl with a petite figure and-if Dean had to guess-a C cup and practically nonexistent waist.
“Hi,” she says with a slow smile. “You must be the new guy.”
“I’m a new guy,” Dean says. “You must be Jenny, hot air ballooner extraordinaire.”
“Guilty as charged,” Jenny says, holding out her hand.
“I’m Dean,” he says as he shakes her tiny hand. “I hear you’re flying away already, and we only just met.”
She giggles. “It figures we’d meet on the day that I’m leaving. Where have you been all my life, Dean?”
Dean grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”
“Who says it’s a line?” Jenny tilts her head to the side. “And what’s a guy like you doing in a town like this?”
“Meeting you, that’s what,” Dean says. She smiles, but seems to be waiting for a real answer. “I’m-I guess you could say I’m here to help out a friend,” Dean glances over to where Castiel is getting yelled at by an old lady with a water stain down the front of her shirt. “He needs lots of help.”
“I see,” Jenny says. “What a good friend you are.”
“You’re the second person who’s said that to me today,” Dean chuckles. “But I’m really not. I’m more of a lone ranger type, stopping in where I’m needed while travelling from place to place.”
“Dangerous and on the run?” She sways closer to Dean and puts a hand lightly on his arm.
“Oh, you know how it is,” he winks. “I don’t like to brag, but you might have seen me around. I hear the wanted posters don’t do me justice.”
“Hm,” Jenny says thoughtfully. “Then would you say you’re the spontaneous type?”
“I’d say it’s my middle name after ‘Johnny’ and ‘Danger’,” Dean says, and is rewarded with more giggles.
“Well, then, Dean Johnny Danger Spontaneous,” Jenny says, “would you happen to be interested in an impromptu hot air balloon ride?” She looks up at him coyly, “I packed a picnic lunch and champagne.”
“Let me guess,” Dean says, moving closer. “You were just waiting for a handsome stranger to come sweep you away?”
Jenny looks down and smoothes down his sleeve. “What can I say? I believe in fate.”
“And I like a gal that believes in fate,” Dean replies, allowing himself to fall a little into her smile. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he catches a glimpse of Castiel managing a rather spectacular fall of his own into three people simultaneously. Dean sighs a little to himself and pulls back from Jenny.
“Hey, Jenny-” Dean starts.
“Uh oh,” she says.
“I hate to be that guy, but you see my friend over there-he’s the one tripping into everyone-he doesn’t seem to be handling this place so well. You know how it is. Bought a house after visiting it once, got a case of buyer’s remorse and, on top of that, altitude sickness. You think there might be room in that basket for three?”
Jenny’s smile fades. “You, me, and your sick friend? I can’t say it’s the romantic getaway I was thinking about.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry,” Dean says. “But you see him over there. He’s pathetic. I can’t leave him alone like this-god knows what he’ll get up to when I’m gone. And besides,” Dean lowers his voice, “there’ll be plenty of time for us to be alone once we’re back on solid ground, right?”
“I can’t fault a guy for being loyal,” Jenny says as she watches Castiel pinwheel into someone else.
“But...” Dean says, anticipating her response.
“But I’m sorry, Dean. There’s not going to be enough room in the basket for three people to fit comfortably. And even if there was, the balloon isn’t strong enough to hold the weight of another person-two is the absolute max.”
“There’s no way?” Dean says, heart sinking. “Not even if we get rid of all extra weight and strip naked or something?”
Jenny shakes her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Dean. It has to be you, or no one.”
Dean looks first at the hot air balloon, which has almost completely filled, and then at Castiel, who seems to have successfully spilled water on every single guest, and is now standing alone by the buffet line. “Just me, huh?”
“Come on, Dean,” Jenny sidles up closer to his side. “It’ll be an adventure. And don’t tell me a guy like you doesn’t want to get out of a place like this as fast as he can. A suburb on top of a mountain? Doesn’t exactly scream danger.”
Dean thinks about Sam, who has probably noticed he’s gone and might have started to worry by now (although it’s difficult for Dean to judge how long he’s been here-he still has no memory of how he ended up in Mountaindale). Given the recent apocalyptic events, Sam’s probably not thinking Dean went out for a slushie run.
But then Dean looks over at Castiel again, standing like a granite sentry at the buffet line, driving all who venture near away with his blank, stony expression. It’s vaguely comical, and brings up a mix of unsettling emotions: affection, amusement, and the ever-present sense that Dean owes Castiel a debt he might never be able to repay. Not just for the Heaven and Hell things, but also for being one of the few people in the world not related by blood to Dean to actually give a shit. And maybe for reasons other than that Dean's A Chosen One.
“I’m sorry, Jenny,” Dean says as he gently moves away. “But me and my friend Jimmy, we’re kind of a package deal right now. Buy one get one free, and no turning down the freebie.”
“Say it ain’t so, Dean,” she says, with an expression halfway between dismay and curiosity. “You know this is the only way off the mountain, right? The only way out of Mountaindale? If you don’t come with me, you’re stuck here.”
“I’ll find another way out,” Dean says with a confidence he doesn’t quite feel. “Don’t worry about me.”
“No, you won’t,” Jenny says, and the quiet certainty in her voice makes Dean’s stomach go cold. “Don’t you want to go home?”
Sam flutters through Dean’s mind and he shrugs, trying to act as breezy about it as he can. “I told you I’m a lone wolf. Not like I left a wife and kids behind.”
“But aren’t there things you miss, people who care about you?” Dean doesn’t know how to explain to her why he can’t leave, and he has no idea how to make her understand the reasons. He’s not sure he understands them himself.
“Nothing I can’t leave behind,” Dean says, and mentally apologizes to Sam for the lie. “Listen, Jenny, it’s not that I’m not flattered, honest, but if you want company this bad, there’s a whole party full of people who I’m sure would love to be your new travel buddy.”
Jenny shakes her head slowly, a little sadly. “All I want is you, Dean.”
Dean smiles and leans down to kiss her softly on the cheek. “Have a good trip, Jenny.”
He leaves her standing there by the almost fully inflated hot air balloon and joins Castiel at the buffet line. “Anything good to eat?”
“I would not know,” Castiel says seriously.
Dean chuckles, “I wouldn’t expect you to. No Smoky and the Bandits?”
“I assume by that you mean demonic presences, in which case, no, none have been revealed by the holy water,” Castiel says and passes Dean back his flask. “Although some of the guests have reacted quite aggressively.”
“I noticed,” Dean says. “That old lady seemed pretty intimidating-I’m glad you didn’t have to call in for backup.”
“And what of the balloon?” Castiel asks.
“Turns out it’s a one woman operation,” Dean says. “Not enough room in the bucket for more than one tiny Asian woman, apparently. No way could the balloon handle our weight either, so it’s a non-starter.”
“That is unfortunate,” Castiel says.
“Yeah, I don’t think she liked me anyway,” Dean says. He claps Castiel lightly on the shoulder. “But don’t worry, we’ll find another way out of here. If a hot air balloon can make it off this rock, so can we.”
“You seem very optimistic,” Castiel says. “Since you have more experience with waking up in strange places and not knowing how you got there, I will defer to your positive assessment of the situation.”
“Well, I haven’t been stuck anywhere permanently yet,” Dean says, eying the buffet line speculatively before grabbing a paper plate. He takes two of everything in sight: corn on the cob, hamburgers, hot dogs, and cookies.
“Are you sure that is wise?” Castiel asks as Dean goes to bite into his hamburger.
“Dude, free food,” Dean says. “A man’s gotta eat, and we have no money or credit cards to rustle up other grub. Besides, you just said this is a humans-only shindig, right?”
“As far as I can tell, but that doesn’t mean-”
“Oh fine,” Dean digs out his flask and sprinkles some holy water half-heartedly over his food. “Happy?”
“Overjoyed. Although I don’t see how my happiness will save you from an incredibly painful death via poison.”
“Hey, all the other guests ate and I haven’t seen anyone rolling around on the floor and dying yet,” Dean says as he takes a bite into his slightly overcooked burger. “Eh, I give it five out of ten stars. I sure hope this isn’t my last meal.”
“Dean,” Castiel says, and gestures towards the back corner of the yard where a group of people has gathered around the fully inflated hot air balloon. Jenny’s sitting in the basket, busily tending the fire and casting off the rope lines to the ground.
“Final boarding call,” Dean whispers to himself, casting a sidelong glance at Castiel.
Right before Jenny unties and throws off the final rope connecting the balloon to the ground, she looks straight at Dean and Castiel. When her eyes lock with Dean’s, he gives her a small wave and she cocks her head to one side, face unreadable.
Then the final line is released and the balloon is floating up into the air. The crowd bursts into cheers, while Dean and Castiel clap with no enthusiasm as they watch the balloon’s rapid ascent into the clouds. After only five minutes, Jenny is gone, and the crowd disperses.
Castiel turns back to Dean. “This setting makes me profoundly uncomfortable,” he says. “I would like to leave as soon as possible.”
“You and everyone else,” Dean says, trying to swallow down the feeling that he’s not going to see Sam again for a long, long time. “That’s why they invented booze. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen a drop all afternoon. What kind of party is this?”
“The kind which no longer holds any hope of escape,” Castiel says.
“Hey now,” Dean says. “Buck up, camper. I’ve been in worse situations than this and scraped through mostly intact.”
“Truly?”
“Sure,” Dean says as he begins to nibble on his corn on the cob. “For instance, Hell. Pretty much worse than this place in every conceivable way.”
“You mention Hell surprisingly often, Dean,” Castiel observes.
“What can I say?” Dean finishes his corn and starts in on the cookies. “Hell tends to leave a mark. Much like your freaky-ass handprint, might I add. No thanks for that.”
“It was a necessary part of your reconstitution,” Castiel says calmly. “And it assists me in tracking your movements.”
“Wait a second,” Dean mumbles around a mouthful of cookie. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Did you install a heavenly Lojack on me?”
“Once again, I do not know what you are referencing,” Castiel says. “But in response to the question I believe you are asking: yes. I embedded a trace amount of my Grace within you in order that I may always be aware of your whereabouts.”
“Dude,” Dean says as he swallows his cookie bite. “Not cool, man. Not cool.”
Castiel watches Dean polish off his plate without comment, and once Dean has thrown away his trash, Castiel says, “Several people I spoke to earlier mentioned that there is a man we should speak to by the name of Mayor Chin. Every time I sought information on this town, our location, or how we came to be here, they told me he and only he knew the answers to my questions.”
“Are you kidding me?” Dean says. “We have to go see the wizard?”
Castiel blinks. “No one spoke of a wizard.”
“Never mind, Dorothy,” Dean says. “So where is this Mayor Chin? In the middle of Emerald City, down the yellow brick road?”
“His office is within City Hall,” Castiel says. “However, from what I have learned, today is Sunday and he will not be in until tomorrow.”
“Home address?” Dean says. “I wanna get this show on the road.”
“I asked where he might be found today, but the only response I received was, ‘It wouldn’t be decent to call on a man in his home on his day off’,” Castiel says.
“Decent?” Dean repeats. “Have I taught you nothing, Cas? The word ‘no’ is not even in the Winchester vocabulary. Now, step back and watch a master at work.” With those parting words, Dean sets out to charm, wheedle, lie, scheme, whine, manipulate, and flat out coerce the mayor’s address out of the party goers.
All of his efforts are a resounding failure. Every guest from the oldest man to the youngest child is stubbornly insistent: no one gets to see the mayor on a weekend.
When Dean finally concedes defeat, Castiel has the grace to look only slightly smug. “Probably for the best, anyway,” Dean says. “We need to formulate a game plan before we go barging in.”
“Yes, we should-” Castiel breaks off and winces, putting a hand to his head.
“Hey,” Dean says, lowering his voice. “You okay?”
“I am uninjured,” Castiel says, and Dean can hear the effort that goes into making that statement, “and yet the pain is still disturbingly intense. It seems to be radiating from within my skull.”
“You have a migraine?” Dean says. “Didn’t know you guys got those.”
“We do not,” Castiel grits his teeth, “normally.”
“This situation is as far from normal as you can get,” Dean says. He puts a hand on Castiel’s lower back, steering him in the direction of the Rockwell house. “A headache is as good a reason to get out of here as any.”
On the way out, Norma and Ray both intercept Castiel and Dean. Castiel’s in too much pain to make nice, but Dean manages all the proper excuses and hustles Castiel along before the Rockwells can entrap them into staying. Once they’re finally back in Jimmy’s house, Castiel seems to sag with relief.
“Maybe Jimmy packed some Tylenol or something,” Dean says as he leads Castiel to the couch. “You want water?”
“No,” Castiel says, managing to look stern and green around the edges at the same time. “I do not require sustenance.”
Dean finds some Ibuprofen in the 'Bathroom - toiletries' box and gives two pills to Castiel. “You know how to swallow, right?”
Castiel throws back in pills in one gulp. “This will ease the pain?”
“It does for humans,” Dean says. “I don’t know how effective it is at fighting angelic aches and pains though.”
“This has been a difficult day,” Castiel says, leaning back on the couch. “You should rest. We have much to do tomorrow.”
“Yeah, there’s a king-sized bed upstairs with my name all over it,” Dean says and pauses. “You don’t sleep, right?”
“No. I am ever watchful, ever awake.” In spite of his words, Castiel looks exhausted.
“Awesome, then you get lookout duty,” Dean says. “You do that watching thing you do and I’ll go do that sleeping thing humans do.”
Dean leaves Castiel downstairs on the couch and makes his way upstairs. As Dean wearily picks out some blue sheets from the 'Bedroom - bed' box, a part of him can’t help but hope that this has all been some kind of extended, bizarre dream that’ll be over in the morning. All Dean wants is to wake up in a moldy motel room with Sam snoring like a machine gun a few feet away.
Onto the next chapter: Until they can be made unbreakable
3900 words, SPN Dean/Castiel slash. Spoilers for all of season 4.
Many thanks to zelda_zee, who does what she can with the nonsense I write.
Continuing my Welcome to Oz series. Master post of links here.
“You ready?” Dean asks. Dean and Castiel are standing at the Rockwells’ front door and Dean can hear the faintest buzz of chatter .
I could while away the hours
Day 1
“You ready?” Dean asks. Dean and Castiel are standing at the Rockwells’ front door and Dean can hear the faintest buzz of chatter wafting through from the backyard.
“My name is James Novak and I just moved in across the street at 12 Elysian Drive. I am very excited to be living here,” Castiel says in monotone.
“You sound like you’re reading cue cards, Cas-I mean, Jimmy,” Dean says. “But we don’t have time for Acting 101, so let’s hope the neighbors think you’re a nervous, awkward guy with no social skills.”
Castiel seems unperturbed by the prospect of being deemed the neighborhood weirdo. “And you, Dean?”
“I’m Dean Hardy and I’ve got a knife, salt, and a flask of the homemade holy water we brewed ten minutes ago.” Dean pulls open his jacket to reveal said items in a dramatic flourish, but Castiel is unimpressed.
Castiel does, however, give Dean a look. “You’ve decided to continue with Dean Hardy?”
“Well, we seem to be stuck in a Hardy Boys mystery, so I think it fits.” When Castiel doesn’t crack a smile, Dean shrugs. “It’s what I told the Rockwells. You should be grateful I didn’t go with Dick Hardon instead.”
“I do not see the point in the deception,” Castiel says. “If it is a trap, everyone will know who you are already.”
“You want me to impersonate a dead guy instead? I could tell people I’m Elvis, or Jesus.” Dean chuckles at Castiel’s slightly shocked and decidedly disapproving expression. “Finally got a reaction of you.”
Dean rings the doorbell, still chuckling, and a few minutes later, Norma Rockwell appears at the door. She greets them with unadulterated elation, “Why hello, Dean! And you must be Jimmy.”
“James,” Castiel says gravely. “I prefer to go by James.”
“Oh, why of course,” Norma says, shooting him a slightly puzzled smile. “Welcome to the neighborhood, James. My name is Norma, and my husband Ray is around here somewhere-probably grilling up some more hamburgers out back.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Norma,” Castiel says. “Thank you for your kind invitation.”
“I’m so happy you decided to come,” she beams.
“I hate to trouble you, Norma,” Dean says. “But I was wondering if I could use your phone?”
“Why certainly!” she says. “As long as it’s local!” Norma laughs and Dean joins in after a beat. She pauses, “You do know what the phones are only hooked up to a local network here, don’t you? They won’t connect to any outside lines.”
“What?” Dean does a double take. “How is that-you mean we’re completely cut off?”
“Well,” Norma says slowly, as if it’s all blindingly obvious. “There aren’t landlines all the way up here. And the nearest cell phone tower is thousands of miles away at the bottom of the mountain-we’re way outside of the coverage zone.”
“Wow,” Dean says flatly as all hopes of Sam coming to the rescue slip away. “That’s so convenient.”
After a slightly awkward pause, Norma says brightly, “Well, come on-I shouldn’t hog you too all to myself. The party’s in the backyard. I’ll take you to meet Ray and everyone else in the neighborhood.”
She ushers them inside and through the house. It seems similar in layout to Jimmy’s supposed house, and feels very normal and lived in. There are no satanic symbols, no human remains, and no Caspers lingering about. In short, the Rockwell home appears to be another slice of wholesome American goodness; the only oddity is the inordinate amount of sheep themed paintings, knickknacks and even furniture scattered throughout the rooms. Still, on the bizarre-scale, fluffy animal pictures rank pretty low.
The backyard, as it turns out, is massive-much larger than the one attached to Jimmy’s house. There’s a large tent set up and a crowded buffet line, tables and outdoor seating, and, most striking of all, a half-inflated hot air balloon.
“Whoa,” Dean says to Castiel. “How the fuck did we miss that?”
“Oh yes, that’s Jenny’s hot air balloon,” Norma says by way of explanation. “You see, it’s not only a welcome to the neighborhood party; it’s also a farewell to the neighborhood party.”
“You telling me someone’s getting out of this place in a hot air balloon?” Dean says. “Ever heard of planes, helicopters, or the 21st century?”
She laughs merrily. “Oh, Dean. There’s no airstrip here so where would a plane land? And as for helicopters, I find them far too noisy and difficult to navigate. Hot air balloons provide a much smoother and more pleasant ride, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Does everyone in this town have a balloon they may inflate and fly at will?” Castiel asks.
“Oh no,” Norma says. “No, Jenny brought her own up here. She’s quite the experienced hot air balloon navigator, apparently.”
“So this is a one way trip?” Dean says, eying tremendous balloon growing fuller by the second. The basket is striped red and white like a peppermint candy, while the balloon itself is a blue field spotted with white stars. “Farewell to Jenny forever?”
“I’m afraid so,” Norma says. “There’s no way back to Mountaindale once you’ve left.”
“Then you are aware that you are trapped at the top of a mountain?” Castiel says.
“Why of course!” she exclaims. “But I don’t think of it as being trapped-I think of it as fulfilling my patriotic duty.”
Dean blinks, not sure what to make of that statement, while Castiel continues, “If it is your patriotic duty to stay, then why is this woman leaving?”
“Because you’ve come, of course.” Norma smiles kindly at Castiel. “Mountaindale can support only a limited population of adults at any given time, you know. When one comes, one must go. It’s sad, but such is the way of things.”
Dean and Castiel exchange a glance as Norma escorts them into the middle of the yard. A flurry of introductions follow, filled with names and faces Dean doesn’t bother trying to remember, although Castiel seems to be earnestly trying. After about twenty minutes, Dean and Castiel finally make their way over to the punch bowl, away from the crowd of people and out of earshot. Castiel stands in front of Dean while he grabs some glasses and fills them with holy water from his flask. Dean passes the flask and a glass to Castiel.
“You should trip and bump into as many people as you can,” Dean says. “If anyone starts smoking I’ll probably notice, but just in case: yell.”
Castiel nods. “And what will you be doing?”
“Trying to talk our way into a hot air balloon ride,” Dean replies. He leaves Castiel by the punch bowl and heads over to where the surprisingly quiet balloon pump is running with a young woman crouched over it.
“Hey,” Dean says, and the young woman turns to straighten and face him. She’s a strikingly lovely Asian girl with a petite figure and-if Dean had to guess-a C cup and practically nonexistent waist.
“Hi,” she says with a slow smile. “You must be the new guy.”
“I’m a new guy,” Dean says. “You must be Jenny, hot air ballooner extraordinaire.”
“Guilty as charged,” Jenny says, holding out her hand.
“I’m Dean,” he says as he shakes her tiny hand. “I hear you’re flying away already, and we only just met.”
She giggles. “It figures we’d meet on the day that I’m leaving. Where have you been all my life, Dean?”
Dean grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”
“Who says it’s a line?” Jenny tilts her head to the side. “And what’s a guy like you doing in a town like this?”
“Meeting you, that’s what,” Dean says. She smiles, but seems to be waiting for a real answer. “I’m-I guess you could say I’m here to help out a friend,” Dean glances over to where Castiel is getting yelled at by an old lady with a water stain down the front of her shirt. “He needs lots of help.”
“I see,” Jenny says. “What a good friend you are.”
“You’re the second person who’s said that to me today,” Dean chuckles. “But I’m really not. I’m more of a lone ranger type, stopping in where I’m needed while travelling from place to place.”
“Dangerous and on the run?” She sways closer to Dean and puts a hand lightly on his arm.
“Oh, you know how it is,” he winks. “I don’t like to brag, but you might have seen me around. I hear the wanted posters don’t do me justice.”
“Hm,” Jenny says thoughtfully. “Then would you say you’re the spontaneous type?”
“I’d say it’s my middle name after ‘Johnny’ and ‘Danger’,” Dean says, and is rewarded with more giggles.
“Well, then, Dean Johnny Danger Spontaneous,” Jenny says, “would you happen to be interested in an impromptu hot air balloon ride?” She looks up at him coyly, “I packed a picnic lunch and champagne.”
“Let me guess,” Dean says, moving closer. “You were just waiting for a handsome stranger to come sweep you away?”
Jenny looks down and smoothes down his sleeve. “What can I say? I believe in fate.”
“And I like a gal that believes in fate,” Dean replies, allowing himself to fall a little into her smile. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he catches a glimpse of Castiel managing a rather spectacular fall of his own into three people simultaneously. Dean sighs a little to himself and pulls back from Jenny.
“Hey, Jenny-” Dean starts.
“Uh oh,” she says.
“I hate to be that guy, but you see my friend over there-he’s the one tripping into everyone-he doesn’t seem to be handling this place so well. You know how it is. Bought a house after visiting it once, got a case of buyer’s remorse and, on top of that, altitude sickness. You think there might be room in that basket for three?”
Jenny’s smile fades. “You, me, and your sick friend? I can’t say it’s the romantic getaway I was thinking about.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry,” Dean says. “But you see him over there. He’s pathetic. I can’t leave him alone like this-god knows what he’ll get up to when I’m gone. And besides,” Dean lowers his voice, “there’ll be plenty of time for us to be alone once we’re back on solid ground, right?”
“I can’t fault a guy for being loyal,” Jenny says as she watches Castiel pinwheel into someone else.
“But...” Dean says, anticipating her response.
“But I’m sorry, Dean. There’s not going to be enough room in the basket for three people to fit comfortably. And even if there was, the balloon isn’t strong enough to hold the weight of another person-two is the absolute max.”
“There’s no way?” Dean says, heart sinking. “Not even if we get rid of all extra weight and strip naked or something?”
Jenny shakes her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Dean. It has to be you, or no one.”
Dean looks first at the hot air balloon, which has almost completely filled, and then at Castiel, who seems to have successfully spilled water on every single guest, and is now standing alone by the buffet line. “Just me, huh?”
“Come on, Dean,” Jenny sidles up closer to his side. “It’ll be an adventure. And don’t tell me a guy like you doesn’t want to get out of a place like this as fast as he can. A suburb on top of a mountain? Doesn’t exactly scream danger.”
Dean thinks about Sam, who has probably noticed he’s gone and might have started to worry by now (although it’s difficult for Dean to judge how long he’s been here-he still has no memory of how he ended up in Mountaindale). Given the recent apocalyptic events, Sam’s probably not thinking Dean went out for a slushie run.
But then Dean looks over at Castiel again, standing like a granite sentry at the buffet line, driving all who venture near away with his blank, stony expression. It’s vaguely comical, and brings up a mix of unsettling emotions: affection, amusement, and the ever-present sense that Dean owes Castiel a debt he might never be able to repay. Not just for the Heaven and Hell things, but also for being one of the few people in the world not related by blood to Dean to actually give a shit. And maybe for reasons other than that Dean's A Chosen One.
“I’m sorry, Jenny,” Dean says as he gently moves away. “But me and my friend Jimmy, we’re kind of a package deal right now. Buy one get one free, and no turning down the freebie.”
“Say it ain’t so, Dean,” she says, with an expression halfway between dismay and curiosity. “You know this is the only way off the mountain, right? The only way out of Mountaindale? If you don’t come with me, you’re stuck here.”
“I’ll find another way out,” Dean says with a confidence he doesn’t quite feel. “Don’t worry about me.”
“No, you won’t,” Jenny says, and the quiet certainty in her voice makes Dean’s stomach go cold. “Don’t you want to go home?”
Sam flutters through Dean’s mind and he shrugs, trying to act as breezy about it as he can. “I told you I’m a lone wolf. Not like I left a wife and kids behind.”
“But aren’t there things you miss, people who care about you?” Dean doesn’t know how to explain to her why he can’t leave, and he has no idea how to make her understand the reasons. He’s not sure he understands them himself.
“Nothing I can’t leave behind,” Dean says, and mentally apologizes to Sam for the lie. “Listen, Jenny, it’s not that I’m not flattered, honest, but if you want company this bad, there’s a whole party full of people who I’m sure would love to be your new travel buddy.”
Jenny shakes her head slowly, a little sadly. “All I want is you, Dean.”
Dean smiles and leans down to kiss her softly on the cheek. “Have a good trip, Jenny.”
He leaves her standing there by the almost fully inflated hot air balloon and joins Castiel at the buffet line. “Anything good to eat?”
“I would not know,” Castiel says seriously.
Dean chuckles, “I wouldn’t expect you to. No Smoky and the Bandits?”
“I assume by that you mean demonic presences, in which case, no, none have been revealed by the holy water,” Castiel says and passes Dean back his flask. “Although some of the guests have reacted quite aggressively.”
“I noticed,” Dean says. “That old lady seemed pretty intimidating-I’m glad you didn’t have to call in for backup.”
“And what of the balloon?” Castiel asks.
“Turns out it’s a one woman operation,” Dean says. “Not enough room in the bucket for more than one tiny Asian woman, apparently. No way could the balloon handle our weight either, so it’s a non-starter.”
“That is unfortunate,” Castiel says.
“Yeah, I don’t think she liked me anyway,” Dean says. He claps Castiel lightly on the shoulder. “But don’t worry, we’ll find another way out of here. If a hot air balloon can make it off this rock, so can we.”
“You seem very optimistic,” Castiel says. “Since you have more experience with waking up in strange places and not knowing how you got there, I will defer to your positive assessment of the situation.”
“Well, I haven’t been stuck anywhere permanently yet,” Dean says, eying the buffet line speculatively before grabbing a paper plate. He takes two of everything in sight: corn on the cob, hamburgers, hot dogs, and cookies.
“Are you sure that is wise?” Castiel asks as Dean goes to bite into his hamburger.
“Dude, free food,” Dean says. “A man’s gotta eat, and we have no money or credit cards to rustle up other grub. Besides, you just said this is a humans-only shindig, right?”
“As far as I can tell, but that doesn’t mean-”
“Oh fine,” Dean digs out his flask and sprinkles some holy water half-heartedly over his food. “Happy?”
“Overjoyed. Although I don’t see how my happiness will save you from an incredibly painful death via poison.”
“Hey, all the other guests ate and I haven’t seen anyone rolling around on the floor and dying yet,” Dean says as he takes a bite into his slightly overcooked burger. “Eh, I give it five out of ten stars. I sure hope this isn’t my last meal.”
“Dean,” Castiel says, and gestures towards the back corner of the yard where a group of people has gathered around the fully inflated hot air balloon. Jenny’s sitting in the basket, busily tending the fire and casting off the rope lines to the ground.
“Final boarding call,” Dean whispers to himself, casting a sidelong glance at Castiel.
Right before Jenny unties and throws off the final rope connecting the balloon to the ground, she looks straight at Dean and Castiel. When her eyes lock with Dean’s, he gives her a small wave and she cocks her head to one side, face unreadable.
Then the final line is released and the balloon is floating up into the air. The crowd bursts into cheers, while Dean and Castiel clap with no enthusiasm as they watch the balloon’s rapid ascent into the clouds. After only five minutes, Jenny is gone, and the crowd disperses.
Castiel turns back to Dean. “This setting makes me profoundly uncomfortable,” he says. “I would like to leave as soon as possible.”
“You and everyone else,” Dean says, trying to swallow down the feeling that he’s not going to see Sam again for a long, long time. “That’s why they invented booze. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen a drop all afternoon. What kind of party is this?”
“The kind which no longer holds any hope of escape,” Castiel says.
“Hey now,” Dean says. “Buck up, camper. I’ve been in worse situations than this and scraped through mostly intact.”
“Truly?”
“Sure,” Dean says as he begins to nibble on his corn on the cob. “For instance, Hell. Pretty much worse than this place in every conceivable way.”
“You mention Hell surprisingly often, Dean,” Castiel observes.
“What can I say?” Dean finishes his corn and starts in on the cookies. “Hell tends to leave a mark. Much like your freaky-ass handprint, might I add. No thanks for that.”
“It was a necessary part of your reconstitution,” Castiel says calmly. “And it assists me in tracking your movements.”
“Wait a second,” Dean mumbles around a mouthful of cookie. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Did you install a heavenly Lojack on me?”
“Once again, I do not know what you are referencing,” Castiel says. “But in response to the question I believe you are asking: yes. I embedded a trace amount of my Grace within you in order that I may always be aware of your whereabouts.”
“Dude,” Dean says as he swallows his cookie bite. “Not cool, man. Not cool.”
Castiel watches Dean polish off his plate without comment, and once Dean has thrown away his trash, Castiel says, “Several people I spoke to earlier mentioned that there is a man we should speak to by the name of Mayor Chin. Every time I sought information on this town, our location, or how we came to be here, they told me he and only he knew the answers to my questions.”
“Are you kidding me?” Dean says. “We have to go see the wizard?”
Castiel blinks. “No one spoke of a wizard.”
“Never mind, Dorothy,” Dean says. “So where is this Mayor Chin? In the middle of Emerald City, down the yellow brick road?”
“His office is within City Hall,” Castiel says. “However, from what I have learned, today is Sunday and he will not be in until tomorrow.”
“Home address?” Dean says. “I wanna get this show on the road.”
“I asked where he might be found today, but the only response I received was, ‘It wouldn’t be decent to call on a man in his home on his day off’,” Castiel says.
“Decent?” Dean repeats. “Have I taught you nothing, Cas? The word ‘no’ is not even in the Winchester vocabulary. Now, step back and watch a master at work.” With those parting words, Dean sets out to charm, wheedle, lie, scheme, whine, manipulate, and flat out coerce the mayor’s address out of the party goers.
All of his efforts are a resounding failure. Every guest from the oldest man to the youngest child is stubbornly insistent: no one gets to see the mayor on a weekend.
When Dean finally concedes defeat, Castiel has the grace to look only slightly smug. “Probably for the best, anyway,” Dean says. “We need to formulate a game plan before we go barging in.”
“Yes, we should-” Castiel breaks off and winces, putting a hand to his head.
“Hey,” Dean says, lowering his voice. “You okay?”
“I am uninjured,” Castiel says, and Dean can hear the effort that goes into making that statement, “and yet the pain is still disturbingly intense. It seems to be radiating from within my skull.”
“You have a migraine?” Dean says. “Didn’t know you guys got those.”
“We do not,” Castiel grits his teeth, “normally.”
“This situation is as far from normal as you can get,” Dean says. He puts a hand on Castiel’s lower back, steering him in the direction of the Rockwell house. “A headache is as good a reason to get out of here as any.”
On the way out, Norma and Ray both intercept Castiel and Dean. Castiel’s in too much pain to make nice, but Dean manages all the proper excuses and hustles Castiel along before the Rockwells can entrap them into staying. Once they’re finally back in Jimmy’s house, Castiel seems to sag with relief.
“Maybe Jimmy packed some Tylenol or something,” Dean says as he leads Castiel to the couch. “You want water?”
“No,” Castiel says, managing to look stern and green around the edges at the same time. “I do not require sustenance.”
Dean finds some Ibuprofen in the 'Bathroom - toiletries' box and gives two pills to Castiel. “You know how to swallow, right?”
Castiel throws back in pills in one gulp. “This will ease the pain?”
“It does for humans,” Dean says. “I don’t know how effective it is at fighting angelic aches and pains though.”
“This has been a difficult day,” Castiel says, leaning back on the couch. “You should rest. We have much to do tomorrow.”
“Yeah, there’s a king-sized bed upstairs with my name all over it,” Dean says and pauses. “You don’t sleep, right?”
“No. I am ever watchful, ever awake.” In spite of his words, Castiel looks exhausted.
“Awesome, then you get lookout duty,” Dean says. “You do that watching thing you do and I’ll go do that sleeping thing humans do.”
Dean leaves Castiel downstairs on the couch and makes his way upstairs. As Dean wearily picks out some blue sheets from the 'Bedroom - bed' box, a part of him can’t help but hope that this has all been some kind of extended, bizarre dream that’ll be over in the morning. All Dean wants is to wake up in a moldy motel room with Sam snoring like a machine gun a few feet away.
Onto the next chapter: Until they can be made unbreakable