Splatter

23. The Delivery 2211

Dean was woken by a not so gentle nudge.

"I need to go, now," Castiel said, he was shrugging on his leather jacket. "Didn't want you to wake up and think I've disappeared on you."

Dean shoved his face into his palms, rubbing his eyes open with his knuckles. "Don't even think you're going without me."

Castiel threw on another layer of clothing, Dean noted groggily that it was the beige trench coat. Ostensibly, it had been dry cleaned but it looked just as soft and worn to Dean as ever. "You need your rest Dean, this is a personal matter. Just an errand."

"Then you can have me tag along."

Castiel leaned in close, the nest of bedding Dean was sprawled in suddenly felt very warm and crowded. "We're bonded for life, profoundly and inseverably. Let me go chase up my parcel delivery."

Dean lowered his eyes, he didn't want to seem clingy, but there was so much going on out there. The bombings, the politics, the fact that Castiel was an outcast rebel. They were living together and probably married under Mer lore but they still hadn't gone past necking and shoulder holding.

"I want to watch your back, Cas." Dean said softly. "On the island, I was so much stronger and faster because I wanted to help you. You bring out the best in me. Do we have to just do that in dire circumstances? Can't we work like partners if we live like partners?"

Castiel stared at Dean for a moment. Then he grinned. "I'm headed for the exclusion zone, if this takes too long we'll have to stay there for our shift too. You won't be getting much beauty sleep today."

"I can handle that," Dean climbed out of the bed. He was expedient, stepping into his jeans and leather coat before quickly brushing his teeth.

Castiel rode the motorbike while Dean held onto him this time, since Dean didn't know where they were headed. The highway was far more packed with peak morning rush traffic but Castiel swerved and weaved them through the worst of it. Dean had the sense, as he clung on to the merman's broad back, that they were sailing through waves of humanity. Surfing their way past the surging tides of cars and trucks like some freaking cool dolphin on some Hawaiian wave or something. It had felt liberating the way that the bulky carriage of the Impala never managed to convey in congested city traffic. Dean made up his mind then and there that he was going to take his baby out onto the fast roads one day soon. He wasn't going to spend his life putting up walls any more. And the Impala was coming too.

The security for the Mer zone was still tedious to get through, even though Dean knew a quarter of the guards from MAPS. There were more new faces than familiar ones. Dean remembered Garth bitching about Roman calling the capital for reinforcements. Dean noticed the whole area looked more militant than ever, there were people with long range weapons patrolling the high points, nozzles pointed towards the itinerants inside the camp.

They ditched the motorbike with Ash and walked the rest of the way in. Once they were on the folk side, things felt a whole lot less creepy. There was activity everywhere, foods being sold at stalls, creatures being hauled out of the mangroves and bartered, more scrap wood being nailed upon each other to create more makeshift buildings. New arrivals were greeted and led away by friendly faces, some of them must have been family members judging by the smiling and hugging. The buildings grew closer and closer together till they merged into one giant wooden shamble that was a mini city on its own. One entrance way featured a lit up tank mounted over the door way, glowing bubbles twirling and sparkling inside. An occasional dark shape drifting past faster than even Dean's eyes could see.

"Doesn't look like a post office," Dean said as Castiel led him inside.

Timber booths, stained bar, filtered lighting and kelp roll smoke. The entire back wall held water tanks. Dean recognised them instantly, they were the older make of the clear plastic full length tanks the MAPS officers used at the seawall for submergings. Lights were rigged behind each tank so that they were lit up in rainbow colours. The ceiling overhead was draped with ropes and hooks. A sticky film of viscuous something glossed over pretty much everything. There were figures floating in some of the tanks, fins moving languidly to the breathy vocalisations playing over the ambient speakers.