The Year of Redemption

Chapter 12: The Ballad Of Jeremiah Peacekeeper

Castiel had finally exhausted his supply of liquor. It had only taken three pit stops at gas stations and rest areas, six Gatorades, and four panic attacks from Dean worrying about the drunk angel puking all over the Impala's beautiful leather seats.

Cas had also stopped annoying Dean with his playful – often inappropriate – remarks about the hunter's eye color and sexual habits. Castiel looked over from the passenger seat of the Impala, now sober again. "I feel I owe you an apology," he said with regret.

"Cas," Dean replied, "You don't owe me anything."

"I got carried away, I--..." Cas started, but Dean cut him off.

"Seriously. Don't," Dean insisted.

Castiel fell silent for a while. "What's the plan now?" he said after a few minutes.

Dean stared out the windshield. "Hunt things. Save people. Find Sammy. The usual." He sounded so desolate, like inside of him was just a wasteland that kept being flooded and set on fire and struck by tornadoes until there was nothing left but tumbleweed and specks of dust blowing in the wind.

Dean glanced over and saw Cas's forlorn expression. One of the only things keeping him going, and Dean was bringing the angel down with him. "I'll fix up your cabin too," Dean told Cas, attempting a smile and trying to keep his spirits up. "I never thanked you for finding that place, did I?"

Cas smirked, but his eyes were still sad. "Don't mention it."

"Seriously, you've done a lot for me..."

"Dean." Cas interrupted.

"What?"

"Chick-flick moment?" Cas asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Shut up," Dean snorted. "Like you're one to talk, Mr. I'm Gonna Kiss Dean Winchester So He Doesn't Stab Himself With a Knife. Quick thinking, DiCaprio."

Cas looked especially confused. "First of all, I don't understand that reference. Second, I don't see the issue. It was effective, wasn't it?" he said seriously.

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, I guess so."

Castiel didn't know if he Dean was actually happy or just finally going insane. Either way, he was worried about the hunter. Just when Dean had thought he'd lost enough for several lifetimes' worth of misery, something had to come and snatch up one of the last things that the hunter still had to hold on to. It was almost becoming second nature for Castiel to worry about this human. He decided to stay with Dean for the rest of the drive, just to make sure he didn't, you know, have a psychotic break or something.

It was quiet until they finally got back to the cabin. "Are you... coming in?" Dean asked, almost sounding hopeful.

After everything Dean had been through, there was no way Castiel could reject that invitation. "Yeah," he said softly. They were still sitting in the Impala, the engine off and nothing but the sound of crickets and coyotes howling in the distance.

"You don't have to... I mean, I know you have other things..." Dean trailed off.

Cas searched for the right words, but all he could think to say was, "No, it's ok."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, just listening. Castiel could hear Dean's breathing. It was even more strained than usual, evidencing the extra weight that these past few days had burdened him with. Sitting there in silence, Castiel could also almost hear Dean's thoughts screaming and pounding inside the hunter's skull. Cas wished he could take some of the weight off of Dean's shoulders and some of the sorrow from his mind, but it wasn't in the angel's power. So they just sat until Dean finally broke the silence.