Making it Count (3/?)
Three
The ship moved so quietly and smoothly, that Castiel didn’t believe they were really moving. He lay in bed, staring out the window, watching the black sky dotted with stars like diamonds. The ship groaned a bit, sometimes Castiel heard some children run by his room. They were chased by a maid trying to yell a whisper.
He ran his legs back and forth under the sheets, revering in the freedom. No corsets in bed, no lace or stockings. No fake bosom, his gentiles hung free against his leg. He still had to wear a long, white nightgown, and a see-through, black robe hung on the bedpost, just in case. The window was open a crack, just letting in the salty breeze, cold nipping at the very tip of his nose, his lips. He thought about the water, cold, deep, how he almost stepped off the back of the ship, and how terrified he was when he actually slipped and he thought he was going to die. Of Dean Winchester, his warm hand and his green eyes. He looked like he cared.
The door to the other room opened a crack and Castiel immediately shut his eyes and evened out his breathing, feigning sleep.
“Darling?” Crowley whispered.
Castiel said nothing. He counted and tried his best to keep his breath calm. At the country house, sometimes Crowley requested Castiel’s presence in the bedroom. His rough hands traced over Castiel’s thin hips.
After a few minutes, Crowley took a deep breath and exited, closing the door. Castiel let out his drawn breath and rolled to his side, away from the window.
~
“Stop it,” Eve ordered, lightly tapping Castiel against his shin under the table. He kept picking and pulling at his dress, the fabric catching in the corset, the stockings itching against the hair on his knees.
He glared and sipped his tea.
Eve spoke with some women at the table. A countess, a dress-maker. She went on about the wedding and Castiel munched on a cookie, tart and moist. Eve had said nothing about Castiel’s ‘accident’ (as Crowley started to refer to it). She had smiled tight-mouthed and her left eyelid twitched as she reached out to touch the sides of Castiel’s face before sending him to bed.
“Isn’t that right, Castiel?” Eve said, another tight-lipped smile. He was meant to answer.
“Yes,” he said. He put down his cup and stood. “Excuse me.”
“Castiel,” Eve called. “Where are you going?”
“I need air.”
Outside, the sun was bright in his face, the breeze pleasant on what skin was exposed. He wanted to rip off the entire dress. Down the deck, he saw some third class children running about and a steward and mother chasing after them, trying to keep them on their part of the ship.
Castiel walked, determined, towards the third class deck. No one stopped him as he passed the gate, though they looked at him oddly, a first glass girl in a green dress and matching shoes.
“Miss, are you lost?” A steward asked.
“No.”
Across a mass of people, he caught Dean sitting on a bench with a cigarette hanging loose from his lips. He chatted with a blond fellow, but stopped dead in his conversation when his gaze caught Castiel’s. He left his friend and walked across the deck.
“Mr. Winchester,” Castiel said, taking a breath.
“Miss Milton.” He grinned.
“May I speak with you a bit? I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”
Dean shrugged. “Don’t worry about him. Shall we?” he gestured in front of them. They started walking. “You’re looking well.”
“Thank you.” He pulled at a pin in his hair. “I…I wanted to thank you again.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, really. I don’t know what I was thinking and…I was lucky to have you there.”
Dean chuckled a bit, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He carried a leather bound folder under his left arm. “Guess we’re both lucky I don’t sleep well, darling.”
“Why?”
“Why can’t I sleep?”
“Yes.”
He lit up a second cigarette. He offered Castiel one, but Castiel declined, foreseeing his mother’s indignant eye roll and pursed lips at the smell of smoke on his dress and in his hair. “Never really slept well. Not since I was a kid. Had to keep an eye out for my brother. He’s the one who really has sleeping problems.”
Castiel glanced around. “Is he with you?”
“Naw. He’s back home.”
And that’s how Castiel learned about the live and trials of Dean Winchester. Mother died in a fire, had to mostly raise his baby brother alone. Dad not really in the picture. “So why were you in England?” Castiel asked.
They had walked around the ship three times, occasionally getting dumbfounded looks from of the first class passengers, but people were silent.
“Making my way in the world. Or trying. But Dad’s gone now, and Sam has the house which is falling apart. Could never stand to be very far from him.”
Castiel ducked his head. “I’m sure that he misses you.” He could imagine not wanting to be far from Dean.
“Hope so,” Dean said. “Been ready to go home for a while.”
They walked by some dock chairs. People sat chatting, one older gentleman lay there napping, a woman tried to soothe her fussy baby with a soft voice and kind words about the ocean. “Look, darling, look at the ocean.”
“Well, Cas.” Dean cleared his throat. “Don’t think I could possibly tell you anymore about myself and we’ve walked about two miles around this ship. Was there something specific that you wanted?”
Dean stopped and Castiel stopped. The sun backlit his body, he seemed to glow. Taller than him, thin, but lean. “I…I wanted to thank you.” Castiel cleared his throat. “And, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation, to lie.” Not many people could convincingly lie to Crowley. Castiel wasn’t very good at it, he was normally caught and Crowley always shook his head in amusement.
Dean laughed. “Sweetheart, you didn’t put me into any position. I was happy to help.”
He smiled kindly, but Castiel’s gut twisted and dipped. “I know what you must be thinking,” he started. “What could I possibly know about being sad.” Everyone he’d met so far, since being passed off as a woman, didn’t understand why he wasn’t excited about the upcoming wedding. Why he shuddered each time Crowley touched him, why he was so quiet. He was lucky, they always told him. It was a good match.
“Not at all.” Dean shook his head. “I’m thinking, why didn’t you think there was no other way out?”
It’d be so simple, to state the real reason. He wanted to. “Everything,” he answered. “Getting married, the attention, but…no one really sees me. Notices me.”
“Then why are you doing it?” Dean asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Getting married. You got a gun pointed to your head or something?”
Castiel became instantly enraged. “Of course not. Wedding planning is just…tiring.”
“But you want to be noticed.”
He glared. “I had no idea you were this intrusive.”
Dean barked out a laugh. “Intrusive? Darling, you came and found me.”
“Stop calling me that,” he snapped. Dean kept grinning. The breeze ruffled his hair. He held tight to the folder in his hand. Castiel reached forward and snatched it. “Why do you carry this around?” He began flipping through the pages, expecting copies of great work or mindless doodles of sticks and animals, but instead, he found life art. He moved to sit down on a deckchair; Dean followed.
“These are actually…really good.”
“Thanks.”
A mother breastfeeding her child, a father and daughter huddled together as he pointed to something in the distance. A naked woman, and then another. “These are drawn from real life?”
“Yeah,” Dean admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
They were all beautiful. Long hair and dreamy eyes. Thin hands, curved waists and endless legs. Castiel kept flipping through the sheets. Then there was a naked man, on his back, his hand on his stomach. He was looking away, towards the wall. Dean used him several other times in the collection. “Men?” Something trembled in his throat and hands.
Dean shrugged. “A few.”
Castiel closed the folder. “They’re all wonderful. Stunning.”
“Thank you.”
“I wished I could see like this,” he went on. “Really see inside people.”
“You do,” Dean assured. “You wouldn’t have sought me out if you didn’t. You’re not like other first class girls.”
“No,” Castiel answered while turning over some pages, though not really paying attention. “I’m not.”
They spent hours walking around. Dean told Castiel of his travels, all over Europe, his home in America, his little brother Sam. They house Sam (and technically Dean) inherited from their father was meant to be a boarding house and Sam was fixing it up. He kept asking Castiel questions, really mundane questions. Like his birthday (August 20), his favorite color (green), did he have any brothers or sisters (no), how did he meet Crowley?
The sun was setting and Dean and Castiel stood against the railing. “I’ve never been on a roller coaster,” Castiel said.
“No?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never really done anything or been anywhere.”
“Let’s change that then,” Dean said. “I’ll take you to an amusement park. We’ll get on the Ferris wheel, drink cheap beer, then go swimming while the sun sets.”
Castiel laughed. “Why not?”
It was easy to talk to Dean, like they knew each other for years. “Can’t wear a fancy get-up like this.” He gestured. “Don’t get me wrong, you look great.” Castiel flushed. “But you’ll have to wear pants or something.”
“Alright.”
Coming towards them, Castiel spotted his mother walking with two other women. The Countess again, and a lovely woman named Molly Brown.
“So,” Eve said as they approached. She eyed Dean. “This is where you’ve been all afternoon.”
Castiel swallowed. “Mother, this is Dean Winchester, he’s the one who assisted me the other night.”
Dean nodded with a smile and reached to shake her hand, but Eve didn’t budge. “Charmed,” she said.
“Well, I’m pleased to meet you,” said Molly, accepting Dean’s hand. “I’ve grown quite found of Castiel. Sure glad she had you around.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Dean will be joining us for dinner,” Castiel explained to the countess. She and Molly seemed genuinely interested in Dean. He mentioned where he was from (apparently not too far from Molly’s relations), his art. Eve just stared.
At exactly six, the trumpets sounded, announcing dinner. “Mother,” Castiel said. “Shall we go dress for dinner?”
“Yes,” she answered, still with a tight lipped smile. She started to walk away.
“See you at dinner,” Castiel said to Dean before following his mother.