***For Just One Day: Destiel Oneshot***

For Just One Day

“I can’t stand you just pushing me around all the time!  Do you know how hard it is having everyone expect everything out of you?”  Arms flying, Castiel can’t help but let every emotions cascade from his broken heart, a million pieces residing in his empty chest, through his mouth, bypassing the filter in his brain.  Normally, he can tuck everything down inside and lock it in a box much like Lucifer’s down in the pit, but today, Castiel realizes, is the last time Dean takes him for granted. 

“No, Cas, I don’t understand that at all!!!  I only have the entire world depending on me for it survival!  Dammit, Cas, why don’t you just grow a pair and deal with the entire damn mess!!?!”  Dean, vein pulsing in his neck and red-faced, screams inches away from Castiel’s face. 

Ready to yell something as foul as Dean had, Castiel remembers something he had seen his brothers do once in a while when they were forced to deal with stubborn people and quickly composes himself. 

“Dean, I do believe the time for a lesson is at hand and is very much in order.”  He takes a step back, smoothes his shirt and trench coat and fixes his tie. 

“What the hell are you talking about, Cas?  I’m not finished arguing with you yet!”  Dean barks, stunned with the oddness of Cas’ response.

With a slight cock of his head and an odd look of determination being born in the depths of his icy blue eyes, the one and only holy angel Castiel snaps his fingers, and Dean is rushed into a sort of portal, confusion engulfing him in a blanket of loneliness and perplexity.  What the hell did that crazy ass holy roller angel do to him this time?

***

“Dean!  Dean, wake up!  We have work to do!”  Dean’s eyes spring open, and he sits up, rubbing his lower back, easing the knots of a crap night of sleep away. 

“Up and at ‘em, D.  We need to get on the road and check out our sources before we can get to the Bronson House.  We need you to go talk to your angel friends and see if there’s anything they know that we don’t.”  Sam, coming into focus after Dean rubs his eyes, slaps him on the shoulder just enough to make him sway. 

“D?”  Dean didn’t know if Sam was really talking to him or not.  Sam wasn’t really into nicknames, especially for being brothers.  However, before Dean could respond, he looked over to see Cas, but he wasn’t the real Castiel.  Not in the least.  He was dressed the same, trench coat and all; however, Castiel seemed more put together, human almost.  He was packing things in a duffle-my duffle, Dean thinks-and heads out to the Impala to load it up for another drive.  The strangest thing, however, was when Cas passed Sam as he went out the door, telling Sam to “make sure D gets his feathery ass in gear and works this crap out before they get stuck between a rock and a shithole.” 

No way.  He didn’t.  That little bitch…

“Ok, D, we’re going onto Newark, so if you can find out anything that may help us, just call us, ok?”  With another small, tight-lipped smile and tentative pat on the shoulder, Sam evacuates the room, boots scuffing slightly on the cheap, worn carpet.  The click of the latch on the doorknob echoes in the room, irking Dean.  Sam just left.  Without him.  With Cas.  So, with all the time resting on his weak shoulders, Dean flopped down in the moth-eaten furniture and took what he noticed and formed the best idea of what the hell was happening. 

Clearly, Cas used his crazy angel powers to somehow switch roles with him.  Cas must have been really upset and serious about his thinking Dean doesn’t understand him, so he wanted Dean to be him, but for how long?

Not knowing how the hell to get to heaven, Dean stood stupidly in the middle of the room, still as a board, eyes closed tight, concentrating on what he knows about heaven-the gardens-hoping to just magically transport to his destination.