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A Moment of Weakness (Chapter 2)

Over the next few days, Castiel healed. Every time he’d leave the room, his steps were more even, his face was less bruised, and he sported less bandages. Like he said, he was healed within a few days. With his suit, minus the trench coat still in the truck of whatever car they were driving in that week, he almost looked normal.

But Dean could see a few differences in Castiel. He was guarded. He didn’t like people getting too close to him. He saw every time Castiel zoned one every time they talked about the Leviathans. The angel looked lost.

Dean wanted to talk to him, but there was never any time when they were left alone with each other. He wanted to talk before Castiel flew off to wherever he needed to go for his secret mission. Castiel and the angels left the cabin before he had the chance to speak with any of them.

Worse, Dean wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act now that Castiel was actually back. He wasn’t sure if he could call him for help on research, or hunts, or Leviathan information. He knew the last one was definitely off the plate. Asking him about the Leviathans would be like Sam asking him about Hell. He’d share when he was ready. Or it would become something that no one ever talked about.

Michael, Gabriel, and Balthazar made themselves scarce as soon as Castiel was up and flying. Dean didn’t mind. The weeks he spent in the cabin with them were enough angel time to last a lifetime. The angels promised to help them find a way to defeat the Leviathans, but the also made it known that Castiel was their first priority.

They flew around the world gathering books they thought would be useful to them. The only time they saw the angels was when they dropped the books off and every once in a while when the book was in a dead language and needed to be translated.

Bobby had decided that it was time to switch roles with the brothers and sent them back out on hunts. Dean silently cheered. He didn’t want to read any more. They took a hunt in Indiana involving werewolves and vampires.

The car ride was tense for Dean, but not because of anything that had to do with the hunt. It had to do with Sam. He knew his brother was ready to badger him and make him talk about his feelings. Dean had to prepare himself for whenever that time came because in a car, he could not avoid it.

Four and a half hours into the car ride, the question came.

“So, are you okay?”

Dean had to sigh at how predictable his brother was. “I’m fine,” he replied, those two words being the automatic answer for as long as he could remember. He wondered if it would ever be true.

“Dean, Cas is back.”

“I know that, Sam. Thanks.” If he was sarcastic enough, maybe Sam would leave it alone.

Sam shook his head. He knew that his brother didn’t want to talk about Castiel’s return, but he could see how much if was affecting him. “Dean, don’t act like his death didn’t affect you.”

“He came back. He always comes back.” How he acted the last couple of months didn’t matter now.

“But you weren’t sure.”

“Sam, leave it alone,” Dean warned. He knew if they kept talking about it, he wouldn’t be able to keep down everything he’d suppressed since he watched Castiel walk to his ‘death’. He figured it was best to answer his brother as vaguely as possible. “Yeah, I was sad when I thought he died. But he’s back, so I’m glad I didn’t shed a tear over it.”

“Okay,” Sam said, taking the hint. He got what he wanted and he could press his brother later.

“Good.” Dean changed the music from Metallica to Kansas. He was ready to sing along with the song, but he stopped when he heard Sam laughing. “What?” He was scared that Sam had finally lost it.

Sam needed to lighten the mood. “You were going to cry about Cas?” he said. He was a good listener. He caught things that his brother would say even when he didn’t realize it.

Dean was glad that they were on a straightaway and no other cars were on the back road. He leaned over and slugged his brother in the arm. “Bitch.” When he saw Sam winding up to hit him back, he grabbed the steering wheel. “Don’t punch the driver.”

Sam bitch-faced at Dean using that to get out of being hit. “Jerk.”

They arrived in Indiana more than four hours later. They stayed in an abandoned house, and lucky for them, it wasn’t as run down as the others they had been staying at recently. They caught a few hours of sleep before they suited up and went to the local authorities.

Two days later, they found the werewolves and vampires. They were kidnapping people, turning them, and forcing their newly turned to fight. The rescue was messy, and violent, and not in their favor, number-wise.

When the both of them were thrown into the fighting cage with a hungry vampire and werewolf, they were terrified. And when they didn’t have their weapons, they knew they were beyond screwed. They would not be able to take on a werewolf and vampire in hand-to-hand combat.

Dean could not believe he was about to die again. And by being eaten by a werewolf? At least, he hoped it was the werewolf. He had bad memories and a bad taste in his mouth when it came to vampires.

Dean and Sam backed as far away from the monsters as they could. Then the monsters lunged at them. Dean and Sam did the only things they could do. They threw their arms up to block their faces.

Dean peeked through his arms and saw the monsters suspended in the air. Dean put his arms down and saw Castiel standing behind the vampire and werewolf. He nodded at the brothers before he threw the monsters to the opposite side of the cage. “Cas,” Dean said, relieved.

“Close your eyes.”

Dean and Sam threw their arms over their eyes and turned around. They felt the warmth of Castiel releasing his grace. When the light died down, they dropped their arms and looked at Castiel. Dean jogged over to Castiel who stood in the middle of the cage. He wanted to talk to him before he disappeared. “Thanks, Cas,” he said. He reached up and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, but quickly withdrew it when Castiel tensed. “Cas?”

Castiel turned around to look at the brothers. “Dean, if you need m… help, please don’t hesitate to call me next time.”

“Cas.” He really needed to talk to him.

“Dean,” Castiel said. He knew that Dean wanted to speak with him about the last few months, but he wasn’t ready.

“Yeah, sure thing.” He knew hen to push and when to back off. This was one of the times he needed to slowly back away, but he needed Castiel to know that he would be there when he was ready.

“Stay safe.” And he left them alone.

Dean stared at the spot where Castiel was for a couple of minutes. Until Sam pushed him. “What?”

“You two okay?” He watched the scene play out between Castiel and Dean. He was use to being ignored while the two of them talked. This was different. Something was not right with Castiel.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You don’t see anything weird about what just happened?” Sam asked.

“No. Why?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. If his brother was too dense to notice, he didn’t want to be the one to point it out. “We should get out of here. It’s starting to smell.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, but he wasn’t going to let go of what his brother said. The two of them left the cage and gathered their supplies from the abandoned restaurant to head back to Bobby’s.

They were only there for two days before they were on their next hunt. They were glad they weren’t holed up in the house anymore and having to read the same information over and over again. They were fine with leaving the research to the angels.

The next hunt was a wendigo in Virginia.

Dean and Sam didn’t need Castiel’s help during that hunt, or the next three, but when they were having trouble with a coven of witches, Castiel showed up. Dean didn’t realize how anxious he was about it until Castiel appeared. Castiel even brought them back to the house they stayed at since they were snatched from it.

Sam looked at Castiel and saw that he wasn’t rushing to leave. “I’m going to shower,” he said, knowing that Dean and Castiel needed to talk. He didn’t know the next time they’d get the chance. He made his way out of the living room as fast as he could without running.

“You flying away?” Dean asked when he heard the bathroom door close.

“I’m not needed anywhere at the moment,” Castiel replied.

“Not even for your super secret mission?” Dean asked.

“Are you upset with me, Dean?” He sounded nervous, like it could be a real possibility.

Dean could hear the unease and fear in Castiel’s voice. “No, I’m not,” he said, diffusing the situation. It was enough to get Castiel to nod. He noticed the tension that was still in Castiel’s shoulders. “I just want to talk.”

“We are talking,” Castiel replied.

“I know, Cas,” Dean sighed. He sat down on the dusty couch. “Finally.”

“What… what would you like to talk about?”

“What happened to you,” Dean said. He saw Castiel look like he wanted to fly out of the room as quickly as possible. “Don’t,” he warned. He was surprised when Castiel actually stayed.

“There isn’t anything to talk about, Dean.”

“Cas, you were held captive and tortured by the Leviathans.”

Castiel opened his mouth to correct the story, but he bit his lip to stop himself. There was no reason for him to burden Dean with that information. “Dean, I’ve been tortured before. This isn’t anything new.”

Dean had to take a moment to process how nonchalant Castiel was about it. He remembered the last time Castiel was tortured, or brainwashed, which lead him to meeting Jimmy Novak. He remembered what happened to their relationship as a result of it. At least this time Castiel wasn’t as cold or distant. “Yeah, well, I’ve gone through this before too. I know how to deal.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do,” Dean scoffed, offended. He dealt with it, and he did it well. That’s what he told himself. He was ready for Castiel to call him on his bullshit.

Castiel sighed and shook his head. “Dean, I know how you dealt.” He was there for most of it. The nightmares, the anger, the breaking down.

“Yeah, well, you were there to help me,” Dean said. And he felt like a jerk. He couldn’t remember ever thanking Castiel for it. “I figured it’s about freaking time I return the favor.”

“Thank you, but your help is unnecessary.”


“Dean. It’s in the past,” Castiel started. “I’ve dealt with it. Now can we please not talk about it anymore?”

“No,” Dean said, raising his voice. “We have to actually talk about it to not talk about it anymore.”

“Why?” Castiel shouted. “Why do you want me to relive it?” His eyes widened and he took a few steps back. He could not believe his outburst.

“Cas, talk to me,” Dean said.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” And with that Castiel was done. “If you need me, please call.”

Castiel flew off before Dean could convince him to stay. “Got it,” he replied to no one.

He ran into the shower as soon as Sam was done. He didn’t want Sam to ask about what happened between him and Castiel. When he was done cleaning up, he saw that Sam was already asleep.

Dean climbed into bed even though he knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep any time soon. He lay in bed hoping that they’d get another hunt soon. He did not want to think about Castiel and he knew that a hunt would be the only thing to take his mind off him.

They didn’t check back into Bobby’s cabin before they were off to their next hunt.

Castiel showed up at every hunt after that. If not to help them, to make sure they were all right. But he always acted strangely. Like apologizing if he took too long to show up. Or feeling embarrassed every time Dean or Sam would thank them. Or blaming himself when he wasn’t able to save someone.

It was very unangelic, and it only got worse.


Dean noticed a difference in Castiel’s demeanors when he’d help them hunts. When it came to witches, vampires, ghosts, demigods, and those types of hunts, Castiel was quick in ending the hunt. He’d send them to the great beyond with a snap of the finger or a flash of his grace. During those hunts, he was his normal, BAMF-y self.

But when they dealt with demons, he was vicious. It was almost as if they had done something to him personally. The kills were never quick. Dean and Sam would let him deal with the demons that way, afraid that if they interrupted him he’d turn his rage on them.

For most hunts, Castiel would stay for a couple of minutes to check if they were okay, but when demons were involved, Castiel disappeared as soon as he was sure the demons were dead. Before Castiel would disappear, Dean would notice how pale and distressed the angel looked. He always disappeared before Dean could ask what was wrong.

Sam asked him if he knew what was going on with Castiel, but Dean could only shrug and shake his head. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but every time he saw the angel, an idea formed of what could have happened. He didn’t want to think it was true, but the more he saw how Castiel reacted, the more he thought his assumption was true.

Two and a half months later, Dean had two reasons to find himself concerned enough to know he needed to talk to Castiel as soon as possible. First was because of the way Castiel acted every time he joined them on a hunt or saved them from almost getting killed. His eyes were darker, like there were too many emotions brewing beneath the surface and he didn’t know what to do with them. Second, because the angels would show up every once in a while wondering if he’d seen Castiel.

Dean knew something was suspicious if the angels weren’t able to keep track of him.

He gathered more evidence when Castiel saved them after he and his brother were cornered by half a dozen demons. He and Sam had no clue how to get out of the predicament. He had dropped the demon-killing knife and Sam had been thrown into a wall and knocked unconscious.

Castiel showed up a second before Dean was about to call for him. He pulled the demon choking Dean off of him and threw him into the far wall of the room. “Close your eyes,” Castiel growled.

Dean was scared. He’d never seen Castiel look so angry and feral. He immediately rolled over, shut his eyes, and tucked his face into the corner where the wall met the floor.

The room warmed up, and Dean heard screaming. It wasn’t the regular demon-leaving-a-meatsuit scream. It was one of pain. He knew that Castiel was hurting them. He wanted to take a look, but he didn’t want to go blind, even if Castiel could just heal him after.

“Cas!” he screamed, or at least tried to, over the demons’ screams. He had no idea if Castiel could hear him.

Then the screaming stopped. And the room cooled down.

Dean waited a couple of seconds before he felt it was safe enough to roll over. He was terrified of what he’d see. He rolled over and saw Castiel standing in the middle of the room, breathing hard. Every demon body was on the floor, dead.

Dean stood up, trying to keep his movements slow. Castiel was staring at one of the demons on the floor, and Dean didn’t want to surprise him. He took a few steps forward and Castiel still hadn’t acknowledged him. He saw how unsteady Castiel looked on his feet. “Cas?” he asked. He wanted to reach out and hold him still.

Castiel’s head shot up. He inwardly chastised himself for not being aware of his surroundings. It could have easily been another demon sneaking up on him. “Sam… Sam is all right,” he replied. He wiped the hand he used to pull the demon off of him against his suit jacket.

“Thanks,” Dean replied. He looked to the floor where Sam landed when the demon threw him and saw he hadn’t woken up yet. He was relieved to see his eyes weren’t bleeding.

“I should—”

“Cas, what happened to you?” Dean didn’t know where the question came from and why he felt the need to ask it at that moment.

Castiel’s eyes widened. He felt trapped. “No… nothing happened,” he replied.

“Then why are you so angry?”

“Leave it alone, Dean. Please,” Castiel replied, looking into Dean’s eyes. He didn’t want to talk about it. He could deal with it himself. He inhaled deeply, but when he caught a whiff of everything, he felt nauseated.

“No, Cas,” Dean said moving at a faster pace to be at Castiel’s side. It was more to help Castiel through being sick than to force him to talk. “Cas, what you did to the demons…”

Castiel looked around the room. He saw himself back in the hotel basement. He felt trapped. He shook his head. He needed to get out of those memories. “The demons. They…”

“They what?” Dean asked. He was terrified of how Castiel was going to finish the sentence. The only reply that Dean received was a flutter of wings and he was alone. “Fuck!” he yelled. Then he waited for Sam to wake up.


Sam regained consciousness a couple of minutes after Castiel left. He looked around and saw the meatsuits on the ground looking like they had been run over with a tractor. “What happened?” he asked. He knew there was no way Dean could have done that himself.

“Cas happened.”

Sam got up, shaky from getting hit in the head again. Considering how many times he’d been hit in the head recently, he hoped he didn’t suffer any permanent brain damage. He looked at the demons again. “Dean, this isn’t like Cas.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, following his brother’s eyeline.

“Dean, Cas usually just exorcises the demons. This. This… isn’t him,” he said, pointing to the nearest demon. He was covered in deep cuts and covered in blood.

Dean couldn’t look at the demons for very long. He knew what Sam said was right. Castiel didn’t torture. He wasn’t cruel. “I don’t know, Sam.”

“Something’s wrong with him.”

“I know.”

“So what do we do?”

“Fuck if I know,” Dean said. He wished he did. He looked at the demons littering the floor again. Everything about the scene around him screamed at him to help Castiel and soon. But he couldn’t deal with Castiel right now. He couldn’t even think about him. They had a job to finish first. “We should… clean this place up.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “We can do that.”


Cleaning the house up involved carrying the bodies outside, and dumping them into a hole they dug. Then they set the bodies on fire. They couldn’t have anything leading back to them. They even considered burning the house down, but that would have been a little over the top.

When they got back to the house they were staying at, Dean jumped into the shower first because somehow he was a lot dirtier than his brother.

Dean threw on some clothes and went outside for some fresh air. He sat down on the trunk of the car they were using and sighed. He leaned back, putting his hands behind the head and looked up at the stars. The shower had worked to clear a few of the thoughts in his head. Now, he just really wanted to see Castiel. If only to see that he was all right.

When the angel showed up a second later, Dean was left to wonder if he had asked for that out loud. He sat up and saw Castiel standing a few feet in front of him.

“Dean,” he greeted with a nod.

“Are you ready to talk?” Dean asked.

Castiel let out a deep breath. His shoulders sagged. “Maybe.”

Dean perked up. He knew it was a step in the right direction that Castiel came back even when he knew what Dean wanted. “Okay. So talk,” he said.

“Dean. I don’t know…” Castiel replied. He slid his shaky hands into the pockets of his suit jacket so that Dean wouldn’t be able to see them shaking.

Dean could not ignore how much smaller Castiel looked without his trench coat. He looked so vulnerable. Dean thought about reaching into the trunk underneath him and giving the angel back something that was like a second skin to him. He decided against it knowing it’d be a distraction that they didn’t need.

Dean slid off the car trunk. He knew that Castiel was a second away from closing off. “Cas, just tell me. Please.” And Dean can’t help but feel like the biggest jerk-douchebag-asshole in the entire world. He was the king of keeping his feelings and problems bottled in. He had no right to make Castiel talk about his traumas. But he knew the damage that it could do. He knew that’s why was pushing so hard. He didn’t want Castiel to deal with it the way he did. He wanted Castiel to heal. “You said demons. What demons? What did they do?”

“Dean?” he whispered. He remembered the hotel. He remembered the demons. He closed his eyes, wanting to get those thoughts to leave him. “I’m… It… I can’t. I can’t, Dean.”

“No, Cas,” Dean said grabbing Castiel’s wrist to keep him from flying away. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. If Castiel wanted to leave, Dean knew there wasn’t much he’d be able to do to stop the angel.

He could feel Castiel shaking.

“Dean, I can’t. Please don’t make me talk about it.” He tried to pull his hand out of Dean’s grasp without using his powers. He only felt the grip tighten. “Dean, let go.”

Dean released Castiel’s hand. He could see he was scaring Castiel by how wide his eyes had become. The last thing he wanted was for Castiel to think he was going to hurt him. “Cas.”

“Dean, I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t. I shouldn’t have to.”

Dean was finally fed up with Castiel avoiding talking to him. It angered him more than he thought it should have. “You know what, Cas, if you don’t want our help, we’re going to stop offering it.” The words left his mouth before he could stop that. He didn’t mean it, and he hoped that Castiel knew that.

He didn’t. The angel nodded, unable to say anything. Then he was gone.

“Cas?” Dean yelled. “Cas! Come back.” He stayed outside for almost two hours yelling, but Castiel never returned. Dean knew he had no one else to blame but himself.

He went back into the house, his voice nearly gone, and slept. At least he tried to.


A few hours later, Dean woke up to the sound of Sam talking to someone. He opened his eyes and saw Sam on the phone. From what he was talking about, he guessed he was talking to Bobby.

He got out of bed, washed his face with some cold water, and got ready to travel to their next hunt. He went through the motions, hoping that Sam wouldn’t notice something was bugging him, but it was difficult for him to hide everything. His body hurt from getting tossed around by demons. His throat felt like sandpaper and gravel were doing the salsa from yelling for Castiel. And he felt like shit because of what he said to Castiel last night. He hoped the last part was a sick dream, but he knew that it wasn’t.

He stood still for too long, and Sam noticed.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dean tried to lie. Then he shook his head. New leaf. They weren’t going to lie to each other anymore. “No. I’m not.”

“What happened?” He was ready to check Dean for injuries from the night before. Sam was disappointed that he didn’t check for injuries the night before.

“Cas came by last night,” Dean mumbled, hoping that Sam couldn’t catch it.


Dean knew that Sam was always a better listener. “And I made a huge fucking mistake.”

“Dean,” Sam said in a warning tone. “What did you do?” He knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Dean spent the next twenty minutes trying to tell the story without making him sound like such a dick. Sam was able to fill in the blanks, and even then, Dean still felt like a dick.

At the end of the story, Sam had to stand on the opposite side of the living room because he knew that if he was within reach of his brother, he was going to strangle him. “What the hell were you thinking?” Sam yelled. He looked around and made sure there wasn’t anything within reach that he could throw.

Dean dragged his hands down his face. “I don’t know, Sam.” Because now, a couple of hours later, he still didn’t know what compelled him to say those words to someone who needed his help. “I was pissed. He wasn’t talking to me. I want to freaking help him.”

“I should hit you right now.”

Dean sighed. “Go ahead. I deserve it.” He wanted it. It would help him feel a little better.

“You yelled at him? You told him we wouldn’t help him anymore? How you could say that? Why would you say that?” Sam was furious. He had never seen his brother turn his back on anyone before. Not when they were so close to breaking down. He thought that would be the last thing he would ever say. Especially since the person was Castiel. And especially after everything they’ve gone through together.

“I was pissed,” Dean repeated. And it made him hate himself just a little more.

“Then you should have hit him, like you usually do when someone pisses you off.”

“I would’ve broken my hand.”

“Then Cas would have healed it, then you guys would have talked.”

“Or not,” Dean replied. Because no matter how nice the situation sounded, it would not have ended that way. Castiel would have still flown off. But maybe he would have come back when he called.

“Damnit, Dean. Something is wrong with Cas, and you just told him that we weren’t going to help him figure it out.”

It had to be Sam to find a way to make Dean feel even worse than he already did. Last year, Castiel didn’t come to them for help, and set off this chain of reactions that brought them to this place. This time, Castiel came to him for help again, and Dean couldn’t be patient enough to hear what’s going on. “Just… just give it a few days,” Dean said. “We’ll both cool down, and then it’ll all be okay.” He was lying to himself. He knew it would be a miracle if Castiel came back after what he said.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Dean.” Sam sighed and walked across the living room to stand in front of his brother. “Look, Dean. I don’t know what happened to Cas while he was with with the Leviathans. I know that it had to involve demons, but that’s it. All I know is it messed him up. Bad. Not just physically, because Cas isn’t Cas right now.”

“I know that,” Dean said. He walked past his brother. “I see it, Sam. The way he reacts to certain things. What he says sometimes. In his eyes. I know he’s not all right.” He said the last sentence in a whisper, like he didn’t want to admit it.

“Dean, we have to talk about what happened to Cas,” Sam said.

“No, we don’t. We don’t even know what happened, so we can’t talk about it.” If he was going to talk about what happened to Castiel, he’d talk about it with the angel first.

“But you suspect something.”

He did. He suspected a lot. “So? Do you know how messed up it is to think that is what happened to Cas?”

“Dean, not talking about it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I didn’t want to bring it up, but—”

“Sam, shut up.” He had his suspicions. He didn’t need Sam to say it out loud.

“Dean, I think Cas was—”

“I know, Sam. I think so too.”


“He didn’t tell me. But I’ve seen someone act this way before. I mean, not exactly the same, but…”

“So, you think he was—” He stopped talking when Dean put his hand up.

“He’s acting like it, isn’t he? I don’t want to assume that, but…”

“I know, Dean,” Sam said.

“I can’t think about that right now.” It was messed up that they couldn’t even say the word out loud.

“Yeah. But what do we do?”

“I don’t know, Sam,” Dean replied. “He doesn’t want our help.”

“Yeah, but how many times has he helped us without us asking for it?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Dean said. He wanted to help Castiel, he really did, but he didn’t know what to do without making the situation worse. It was too easy for him to let his emotions get in the way. And it was too easy for Castiel to think the anger and frustration were directed at him. If Dean was going to help Castiel, he knew he needed a plan first.

“We have to do something, Dean. We can’t let him deal with this by himself. The last time we didn’t help him, he almost got himself killed. He has no one right now. Sure, Michael and Gabriel and Balthazar are supposed to be watching him, but even they can’t keep track of him. We’re supposed to be helping him.”

“I tried.”

“For like a day.”

“He doesn’t want our help.”

“But he needs it. If you can’t be the one to give it to him, then you don’t deserve him as a friend.”

Those words were enough to knock some sense and more guilt into Dean. Because he didn’t deserve Castiel as a friend. After all this, Castiel deserved much better. But Castiel wanted him, and if that’s what Castiel wanted, he’d be there. “I’ll… I’ll talk to him,” Dean said.

“Soon,” Sam added, knowing that Dean would put off the confrontation as long as possible.

“Yeah. Soon.”

Sam smiled, satisfied. He grabbed his bag and left the cabin.

Dean felt like he lost in a conversation that should not have had winners or losers.

[Chapter 1] [Masterpost] [Chapter 3]


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 25th, 2012 12:00 am (UTC)
It's good to see that BAMF!Cas is still in there, even if it's alarming to see how much more brutal he is at the moment.

Dean's the only one with any real hope of getting through to Cas and gatting him to talk, but it's so far outside his comfort zone that he just can't seem to get it right. Maybe the next time will be the one...

Feb. 28th, 2012 04:24 am (UTC)
It's always good to see traces of BAMF!Cas. We can't forget that he's an angel of the Lord.

Dean isn't really the best converser in the world. He'll get it eventually.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )