Neon Lights

Chapter 15 - Sound Wave

•Castiel's POV•

What the fuck Meg?! She set me up! She had to have. She brought us here and there's no going home early without raising suspiction. I feel sick. I want to go home.

But when I finally brought myself to look at him, my heart melted. He looked so happy - like he'd been walking across a desert for years and finally found an oasis. His face was brightened lighter than I'd ever seen it, and tears brimmed his eyes.

He missed me that much.

"Hello, Dean," I croaked, standing slowly. His gang was behind him, and Meg finally emerged.

"Yes, we set you up, Clarence," Meg sighed and admitted, "We planned to come here and bring you along. It's torture watching you two dance around each other like leprechauns, and with you being a stubborn bum, we had to dupe ya. Sorry, but you two are meant to be and we will not stand by and watch you bleed yourselves dry."

She has a point. Right now, in this circumstance, I can enjoy my time here, with Dean and all my closest friends, then I never have to see him again. Just one more kick and I'm done. I mean it.

Dean wrapped me up in his big Winchester arms, holding me in a tight bear hug. I wheezed lightly, begging for air, so he let go, staring me in the eyes. "I missed you," he whispered, "I missed you so much."

I blinked a couple times. Am I dreaming? No...I'm waking up. This is like jolting awake from a terrifying nightmare - did I seriously keep myself away from Dean for this long? How did I manage it? Kudos to me, but that was a bad idea.

I need him, and he needs me.

"Well, Dally, crack open the booze! We have a car hood to get drunk on!" Meg hollered. God I love this side of her. If Dean never existed, I might go straight for her. I might have to at some point.

I shook that thought away. For now, it's time to drink until we're reeling pickled and seeing stars that aren't in the sky. What better place to do that than Meg's secluded Sex Cabin?

And Dean's here too. Works out!

Dally slammed two six-packs on the hood of the black car they arrived in. I ran my hand along the car's frame, admiring its craftmanship and paint job, feeling along its edges and curves.

This, I thought, is a sexy car.

Dean slid me a bottle and sat on the hood next to my hand. "1967 Chevy Impala," he said proudly, "It's my dad's for now, but one day, Baby will be mine."

I sat on the hood in between Dean and Sodapop, "It's a very pretty ride, I have to say."

"It's fucking hot," Dean rolled his eyes incredulously, "I would have sex with this car if that were possible."

"Weirdo," Meg poked him, "Y'know, most people are sexually attracted to other people, not their cars."

"I'm not most people," Dean pointed out, taking a swig of beer, "Even you know that."

Meg made a face as if to say he has a point, then turned to talk to Dally and Two-Bit. What I find oddly amazing is only a week ago TB had beat the shit out of Meg and her fake gang, but now they're laughing and joking like it never happened.

The gang life, man. Incredibly tight.

It didn't take long for Dean to down two bottles. He wasn't drunk - takes more than that - but he was generously buzzed. "What time is it?" Johnny yawned, pulling Dally's jacket sleeve.