[Ariadne spends a few moments working up her nerve to make this call. It isn't that she's uncomfortable or afraid of the man. She's spent enough time around the Winchesters to understand that he's a good fellow.
It's just that the conversation is so uncomfortable. She worries about what kind of impression she might be making. But Evelyn is right. They need to talk to someone about Sam, and Dean clearly isn't the right someone.
So her little voice pipes up on the network, light and airy as a sparrow's song.]
Excuse me? I beg your pardon...I hope I'm doing this right. I'd like to speak with Master Castiel?
[She's still crap with the network. But that's an ongoing problem.]
[ The combination of that voice and the suspicious lack of username is familiar to Cas, but there have been a lot of people on the network, and he's not entirely sure he knows which one this is. You know what they say about assuming. ]
Call me Cas.
[ His voice is the opposite of hers. Gravelly, deep, flippant. Less birdsong and more sandpaper that's been used so much in one spot that there's a big, smooth hole worn down the middle. There's an empty smile in the sound. ]
[She recognizes the voice immediately, from the final days of Deerington, squatting in Dean's cabin, listening in on this, that, and the other thing just to distract herself from the sense of walls closing in. Ariadne was a bit too shy to approach him, but there's no mistaking that voice.]
Well, Mister Cas, I was hoping I could arrange a meeting.
For us.
I mean, you, and myself, and Mistress Evelyn? We were sort of hoping to speak to you about a sort of delicate matter.
[ Evelyn. She mentions that name and the connections sink in. So this must be Ariadne. But what in the world do the women in Sam and Dean's lives want with Cas? ...Probably nothing fun, unfortunately. Life in Trench has been good, in relative terms, but not that kind of good.
Cas's voice goes a little deeper, tense and resigned, before it swings higher again like he isn't very, very tired, and the Winchester brothers aren't the perpetual cause of his exhaustion. ]
Does the, uh, "delicate matter" you're talking about happen to be about 6'4, shaggy hair, with very effective puppy-dog eyes?
[ Yes, he's a very large, very smart, very disobedient puppy who's outgrown the spaces he used to fit into but still shoves himself into them anyway. He's never pissed on the carpet like this before, though. That part is new.
Metaphorically, of course. If Sam's peeing on things he shouldn't these days, Cas is blissfully unaware of it, though he wouldn't put it past him. ]
So have I. He isn't doing much to hide it.
[ Is that alarming? Reassuring? Cas can't decide. Anyway, old habits about who might be listening in on radio channels— ]
[ Cas's gut instinct is to involve Dean. These are Dean's people, Dean's brother. And now Dean's... whatever Cas is to him these days. Dean will be pissed as fuck to find out they're all going behind his back without involving him. But then, there has to be a reason why Ariadne (and Evelyn) are coming to him instead of the more competent, capable man himself. ...It's because Dean will throw a hissy fit even if he is involved, obviously. He's more than a little protective where Sam is concerned. So Cas is damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. So what's new. His voice is inhaled, caught on a sigh he doesn't let out. ]
Of course. Her place? Or do you have somewhere else in mind? Ladies' choice.
[ Just obviously not the cabin, since we're keeping things from W2. ]
That sounds lovely. Are you sure you'd like to invite me there? I may never want to leave.
[ Especially once tea is involved. He's teasing though, of course, and just so she doesn't take him seriously and change the location, she can probably hear his grunt of exertion of a sore, all-too-human body as he stands. ]
I'll be right over. We can talk more until Evelyn arrives. I can even show you how to set a username while we're waiting.
[ No. No, Ari, do not. You don't want whatever username Mr. 42069 will give you. ]
relatively recently, though i uh dont entirely remember the last hour of the conversation
[ Someone was extra special wasted at the time.
Hm... About that... Cas still needs to talk to Dean about the meeting of Sam Interventionalists, but... it just never seems like a good time. Because Dean's going to get angry about it, and Cas would really like to avoid Dean being pissed at him after that last bout of extreme pissedness. ]
[ Though Dean's close to home than Cas, lamp travel is a blessed convenience, and Cas is there at the greenhouse before Dean has completely worn a track into the dirt floor with his pacing. Cas smiles, reflexively, to see him, and then remembering the less than pleasant reason for this tryst, grows somber, sighing as he pulls the tarp down behind him, closing them in. Turning to Dean, Cas rests his hands on his hips and frowns, then begins speaking quietly. Better not to beat around the bush. Of all the things Dean's sensitive about, Sam is always issue #1. ]
Dean... Sam, uh... When we were toking, told me something about, uh... About going home. Between leaving Deerington and arriving in the ocean here, he woke up where he'd dragged Lucifer into the pit. After Hell.
[ Well that's an uncomfortable look Dean gives him, and after the uncomfortable week they've had before this one, not entirely underserved. Cas looks down, fiddles briefly with the pill bottle in his pocket and then decides, nope, saving those for later.
He does help himself to crossing the small space of the greenhouse, though, brushing Dean's hand along the way as a poor excuse for the reassurance he can't offer with his eyes, and then hopping upon his favorite back bench, next to the flickering flames of his inextinguishable pot bush. ]
After Hell. He said he didn't remember...
[ Of course, we all remember Dean lying about his own Hell memories, but then those were of your everyday Hell, not Lucifer's cage. Cas reaches into his jacket's breast pocket and pulls out a shiny new silver cigarette holder. He pops it open, pulls a joint out with his lips and speaks around it as he pockets the box again. ]
Has he been sleeping, like, at all?
[ Weird question, probably but it's more likely that Dean will answer honestly than Sam. And maybe, hopefully, Cas is wrong about this. ]
[ It has not been a great October for them, no. But they're here, they're alive, Cas promised no more orgies, so it's fine. It's just fine.
He watches Cas hop up, eyes staying fixed on his angel, watching his every move, tracing over his body with familiar affection. No matter what happens, they always stumble right back into one another, don't they. ]
Uh, I don't know. We don't share a room so I haven't been keeping track of his sleep schedule.
[ Just, you know.
Yours. ]
But he's been up at night when I came to bed, and awake in the morning when I got up, so if he's sleeping, it doesn't seem like much.
cw: druuug useeeee is mj even a drug anymore do i really need to warn for this
[ That Dean's forgiven him his trespasses isn't something Cas takes for granted. Yeah, back in The End of the World, all they had was each other. But here... Dean has Sam. He has Sams, a family, and a home, and a world that's not kind but also isn't one where humanity is being actively scoured from the Earth. He has a future here, and that future doesn't have to involve Cas.
And Cas almost fucked that up. No, he's not taking Dean's forgiveness for granted. Which makes this whole Sam thing even more complicated. Cas lights up his joint as he listens to Dean telling him the worst case scenario. "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." But it's not easy to go to God when you're trapped in a cage with The Devil. Cas exhales a puff of smoke slowly, like meditation, or saying the word "fuuuuck." ]
I think... Sam is here, but his soul is trapped in some other alternate universe.
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