Chapter Text
Dean slammed the last book onto the motel room table and ran his hands through his hair. In order, the books he'd borrowed from Bobby had yielded nothing, nothing, a powerful need for brain bleach and nothing. He checked his phone. One text from Sammy, who was having no better luck in the library. The phone pinged in his hand with a second text. “Ask Cas?”. Dean sighed.
“Cas?” He said to thin air. “Cas, if you could get your feathery ass down here I'd really appreciate it.”
He felt the change in the air behind him and turned. He stared. Instead of the dishevelled form of the late Jimmy Novak, a tall blonde woman stared amiably back at him.
“Cas?”
“Hello, Dean.”
He stared some more. It clearly was Cas, because only Cas would manage to find a black skirt and a white shirt and pair them with a badly tied blue tie and a battered trench coat which didn't fit.
“New vessel?”
“New vessel.”
“Huh.”
Dean considered this, glancing over the new vessel. Tall, blonde, big boobs, blue eyes. What, had the Angel gone out and found a living Barbie doll? He looked again at Castiel's new face. It was much younger than the last one. He decided to just ask all three of his questions at once.
“A, why are you not a dude? B, why are you a chick? And C, Cas, how old is that vessel?”
“Is that relevant?” She asked, brow creasing at the last question.
There were two reasons Dean wanted to know. One of them was so he knew whether to start a row about Cas vacating a girl’s body so she could have her life back, permission or not. He decided to test the waters with the less depressing reason.
“I need to know so I can decide if she's hot.”
“She's twenty four.”
Well, fair enough then, thought Dean.
“Yeah, she's hot.”
“She's also dead,” Cas informed him bluntly. At the entirely grossed out look on Dean's face, she continued. “Consenting to be my vessel was her last act before brain death. Bethan Thomas is gone. This is….me now.”
Dean processed this.
“Well….it's good…that no one is riding the comet with you, I guess.”
Cas stared at him for a moment before answering.
“I don't know what that means, so I'm going to take the ‘good’ at face value.”
Dean decided against explaining.
“So what's new in Angel Town?”
Cas frowned again.
“There is no such place, Dean.”
“I mean Heaven, Cas,” he clarified, rolling his eyes.
“Nothing that will affect Earth. Although I will happily share minutiae and gossip if you would like it.”
“Is it gossip I'll enjoy?” Dean asked, idly wondering if angels ever had sex. Well, it would be sex while in a vessel. Did their celestial forms have an equivalent? Where did baby angels come from?
“It's mostly political,” she replied, much to his disappointment.
“I'll pass,” he shrugged. “So, pull up a pew, sit your feathery butt down.”
She glanced over her shoulder to the mirror.
“Right, so you left all understanding of figures of speech in the old vessel, huh?” He said, half amused, half frustrated. She looked back at him.
“I'm just trying to work out why you're so focused on my rear end.”
Dean blinked, taken by surprise and with a nasty feeling he was edging towards a trap.
“Focused?” He enquired, warily.
“ ‘Get your feathery ass down here.’ ‘Sit your feathery butt down.’” She quoted.
“It's just the way I talk, Cas,” he sighed.
“And there I was thinking we had something special,” she said, completely straight faced. Dean stared at her.
“I honestly can't tell if you're screwing with me right now,”
She took the seat next to his, face not even flickering. He pointed.
“Because of that,” he admonished.
Clearly not intending on elaborating any further, Cas changed the subject.
“Was your prayer in regards to anything specific, or is my presence necessary in a more general capacity?”
As good as it was to see Cas again, and also kinda for the first time, Dean didn't really have time to go with anything other than the specific.
“Something weird is going on and Bobby’s got nothing.”
“’Something weird is going on.’ Is that not the Winchester family motto?”
She had a point.
“By this point I think its more like 'Death is only the beginning’.”
“That is....surprisingly optimistic.”
Dean shrugged.
“I saw it in a movie once.”
“And what is the nature of the most recent "weirdness"?”
With a final glance at the unhelpful books, Dean pushed his chair back so he could face her and started to explain.