The Year of Redemption

Chapter 14: Cowboy Take Me Away

Dean woke up in a terrible mood. He cursed the blinding sun that poured through his window. "Just as I was starting to actually get some sleep. God damn you, Solar System." He hauled himself up from the bed and stumbled to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and collapsing into the armchair in the living room, still only half-awake.

"You do not think it is imprudent to begin drinking at this hour?" a voice spoke from the kitchen doorway.

Dean jumped slightly in the chair and straightened up, almost choking on his beer. "Damn it, Cas, you have to stop doing that! Jesus Christ."

Castiel wandered closer and inspected the dark circles on Dean's face, noticing his red, bloodshot eyes. The angel immediately knew that the hunter had not had much rest, if any. Instead, Cas assumed, he had probably spent the night tossing and turning and sobbing himself to sleep before having another fit of nightmares that jolted him back awake. Castiel had seen him do this before – too many times for him to care to think about. The angel suddenly regretted having to leave last night. "You did not answer my question," he said, changing the subject.

"No, Cas, I don't think it is imprudent," he spat the word. "I'll do whatever the hell I want, whenever I want, ok? Stop worrying about me. God. If I'd even had a mother for a decent part of my life, I'm sure you'd be worse even than her," Dean replied hotly.

"Gone for one night," Cas murmured under his breath.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Nothing," Cas recovered, "Are you hungry?"

Dean glared. "No, I'm not hungry," he said, raising his voice. "I can take care of myself, ok, Cas? I don't need any of your damn help."

Castiel lowered his own voice. "Ok," he said quietly and sat down on the couch, folding his hands and staring at Dean worriedly.

Dean looked away. He took another swig of beer and set the bottle gently on a stand next to him. He leaned his head back in the chair and shut his eyes. "What the hell am I doing, Cas?" he asked. The angel remained silent, so Dean continued. "I mean, I should be out there killing something or hunting something or doing something, right?" He opened his eyes and glanced at Castiel.

"You have been... preoccupied," Cas stated, recalling all the hell that Dean had gone through just in the last week.

"Yeah, well whatever this is," he motioned around himself. There were still empty bottles and half-read books and week-old newspapers scattered across the room. "It feels too much like settling," Dean finished, dropping his head back against the chair.

Castiel was silent for a few moments, considering Dean's statement. Finally, he spoke up. "What's wrong with settling?"

Dean raised his head and stared at Cas. "What's wrong with freakin' settling," he started, "is nothing changes. Sammy doesn't come back, who knows what happens to Lisa and Ben, the world goes on its merry way and I just sit here with my thumb up my ass."

"What exactly do you propose, Dean?" Castiel replied. "There is nothing in the lore about opening the Cage again. I, myself, have no conjectures about how to do it. All of Heaven is dumbfounded that you, a mere mortal, even wrenched it open in the first place. You can't do anything else for Lisa and Ben. We both know that. You just have to wait until something turns up."

Dean considered this. Why did Cas have to be so damn logical? "Well I'm going to drive myself crazy waiting," Dean uttered, frustrated by the helpless circumstance he had found himself in.

Castiel thought for a moment, then strode to the bedroom and rifled through Dean's duffel bag. Dean was too tired and irritated to even care what the angel could possibly be doing. Cas came back out and said "I will be back shortly," then disappeared.

"Great," Dean said, taking another swig of beer. He wandered back into the kitchen and microwaved up some leftover lasagna for breakfast. When Castiel returned, Dean was passed out in the armchair, three empty beer bottles and a mostly-eaten plate of lasagna on the stand next to him.

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes. He set down some of the things he was carrying and walked over to shake Dean awake. "Ugh... five more minutes," Dean whined, turning away from Castiel's hand on his shoulder. Cas shook him again, and Dean opened his eyes slightly. He squinted and looked the angel over from head to foot. He almost smiled from the sight of him. "Well where's the fire, forest ranger?"

Castiel was wearing hiking boots, denim jeans, and a dark blue plaid button-down over his brown T-shirt. The straps of his outdoor backpack looked oddly out of place on top of the familiar trench coat that he had stubbornly donned over all of this other lumberjack attire.

Dean opened his eyes fully, and he gave Cas a questioning look. The angel spread his arms proudly. "Would you like to go camping?" he proposed with a smile.

"Seriously?" Dean asked, completely surprised by this suggestion.

"What? Do you have something else to do?" Cas inquired, legitimately concerned that Dean may have made other plans in the short time that he was gone.

"Well... no..." Dean said, still uncertain.

"Then come on. It will take your mind off of things."

Dean was strangely intrigued by the idea of going camping with Castiel, especially with the angel all dressed up – or dressed down, to be more accurate – looking like an old country boy having an identity crisis. "Alright, cowboy, you win," he agreed. "Where did you get all this stuff anyways?" Dean asked, eyeing the bags that Cas had set on the floor.

Cas reached into his pocket. "Oh yes, I believe this is yours," he said, handing a credit card to Dean.

"Awesome," Dean commented. "You're a wanted criminal now, angel-boy," he said, a touch of humor in his voice.

"And that's new how...?" Cas asked.

"Yeah, I guess faking an FBI agent, breaking and entering, and probably averting the apocalypse will do that, too," Dean realized.

"Here." Cas handed him a backpack with a sleeping bag rolled up on top of it. Dean took it and threw it over his shoulder. He went to the bedroom and put some clothes in his duffel, then grabbed that too.

"You have everything we need?" Dean asked skeptically. He wasn't too enthusiastic about Castiel's limited knowledge about camping equipment. "I do need to eat, you know."

Cas held up a bag and raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I know that." He swung the bag over his shoulder. "We have everything."

"Marshmallows?" Dean asked.

"Even marshmallows," Cas replied. "Graham crackers and chocolate bars included." Cas winked.

Dean nodded approvingly. Wherever Castiel had just gotten his crash course in camping, apparently it had been thorough. "Better not forget the marshmallows," he muttered. Dean grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and stashed them in his duffel. "Alright, let's get on with it then. Lead the way, Ranger Rick," he said extending his hand towards the doorway.