Don't Tell Sammy

Chapter 17: Angels and Happy Endings

Friday's awakening was less exciting than Thursday's. It was at Dean's hand, like the previous day's, but it wasn't on purpose, and Castiel awoke with a violent jolt to a violent hissed swear by Dean who had woken Cas by whacking his elbow on the door frame as he came out of the bathroom.

'Right on the fucking funny bone. Morning, Cas. Feel like cutting my fucking arm off?'

'Maybe later,' Castiel offered. 'I don't think it would be wise to get blood on the carpet. And I don't have a saw.'

'There's one in the car,' Dean groaned, still cradling his elbow as pain shot up and down his arm, or rather the nerve the bone covered. 'We use it to cut up bodies sometimes so they burn easier.'

'What a nice mental image to wake up to,' Castiel sighed sarcastically, pushing himself up into a sitting position. 'Blood and gore. As if I don't get enough of that in my waking hours what with my past and my current reading of A Game of Thrones.'

'It's gonna fucking fall off,' Dean whined, sitting on the edge of Cas's bed. 'It's numb now. It doesn't hurt anymore.'

'Oh, grow up,' Castiel muttered, rolling his eyes and tossing pillow at Dean.

Dean, who was cradling his elbow in his hand, didn't bat an eyelid when the pillow hit him in the face. He continued on as if nothing had even happened.

'Sorry for waking you,' Dean said apologetically, smiling awkwardly. 'Didn't mean to do that.'

'It's okay,' Castiel shrugged. 'I was having an unpleasant dream anyway. It was Metatron saying there was no way to get the angels back into heaven ... I know that can't be true, but I'd rather not have that swimming around in my subconscious. So thank you for the awakening.'

'No problem,' Dean replied with a horrifying feeling of sudden guilt at Cas's dream. 'Or thank the doorframe. It fucking jumped out at me, I swear. I'm not stupid enough to bang my elbow into that.'

'And I'm not stupid enough to fall for that or even humor you and thank a piece of wood,' Castiel replied smartly. 'Does it still hurt?'

'A little,' Dean said glumly. 'But it's fading. These things usually throb and then go numb and then ache for a minute or two. But I'll be fine.'

'Oh no, not you,' Castiel clarified quickly with a frown. 'I meant the door frame. Does it still hurt after your elbow attacked it?'

Dean ceased in cradling his elbow and dropped his arms flatly.

'You're mean and sarcastic even after just waking up,' he stated sulkily. 'That's not fair. You're supposed to like ... need some warm up time. Tell a trail of bad jokes leading up to a good one.'

'I'm sorry,' Castiel lied. 'Would you rather I start off with a bad knock knock or chicken crossing the road joke?'

'Yeah, please, that'd really help.'

'Too bad. I don't know any and I'm not going to make any up.'

'You suck.'

'So you've said, many times.'

'Okay, then you blow.'

'Opposite things, yet both mean the same thing when used as in insult or as a sexual term. English is an odd language, don't you think?'

'I guess so,' Dean frowned, thinking about it. 'And can I ask you something about it real quick?'

'Bear in mind that I just woke up, but go on.'

'Why the fuck is bologna spelled that way?'

Castiel sighed. As if he knew that ... but he had to humor Dean.