Chapter 50

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Charlie falls asleep on Castiel's shoulder, and though he's sure she wouldn't be upset if he tried to slip out from under her, he doesn't want to risk waking her up to do it. He's not very tired, which is weird; he was exhausted when he first got here but that didn't last long. He decides to spend the night writing -- poetry, of course; he's never found the same charm in creating stories -- but, again, he can't move to get anything, so he has to write on his phone. It's not quite the same vibe as writing in a notebook, but it's far from the first time he's done it, either; there are documents in his google drive going back over a decade that he's never had the heart to delete.

He will admit that he gets a little too wrapped up in his writing to pay attention to his surroundings, but that happens a lot when he's writing. He can spend hours in his own head, just trying to find the right words to explain how he's feeling. In fact, he gets so distracted that he doesn't even realize he's not the only one awake until he hears a voice from the doorway.

"Looking very claustrophobic over there, Cas."

Castiel locks his phone instinctively before he even processes that the voice belongs to Dean -- not, of course, that that makes any difference; he doesn't want Dean looking at his personal thoughts more than he wants anyone else to. He looks over at the man, who's leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an amused smile on his face.

"Well, it's... it's not a bed?" Castiel says uncertainly, and he knows even as the words are leaving his mouth that it's a pathetic excuse.

"Uh-huh," Dean hums, clearly unconvinced.

Castiel changes the subject. "What are you doing up? It's..." He clicks his phone on to check the time. "It's almost two in the morning." That's actually a lot later than he thought it was; his sleep schedule is never going to recover.

"I wanted a glass of water," Dean says with a shrug. "And then I figured I'd make sure you weren't dying on the floor, but apparently I didn't have to worry about that because you're not on the floor at all."

"Yeah..." Castiel trails off because honestly, what do you say to that?

Apparently his silence isn't a problem, because Dean continues the conversation with, "If I were to ask a question that you probably think is, like, super obvious, would you not judge me?"

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "I guess?"

"Good enough for me," Dean says. "Are you and Charlie dating?"

"Are we -- what?" Castiel sputters, staring at him.

"See, this is that whole 'it's super obvious but don't judge me for asking' thing I was talking about," Dean says. "So I take that as a no."

"A very big no," Castiel confirms. "She's like my little sister." Of course, he actually does have siblings -- no sisters, but still siblings -- and they're nothing like her. She's like the little sister he wishes he had. "Why? Is that what people are saying?"

"No, it's not, like, a widespread thing," Dean assures him. "But Jo and I were a little curious, and I figured hey, why not just ask?"

"Well, I do appreciate you not just making assumptions," Castiel tells him. God knows not everyone gives him the benefit of the doubt these days. Perks of being a celebrity. "But no, I'm not cheating on my fake girlfriend with a real girlfriend or anything."

"Cool," Dean says. "Hey, speaking of, how do you feel about Jo?"

Castiel eyes him warily. That's a weird question. How is he supposed to feel about Jo? Is there a specific answer he's looking for? Is this some sort of "I want to talk siht behind her back but I need to make sure we're on the same page" thing? He can't imagine Dean secretly disliking Jo, but he also can't picture where else this could be going.

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