Now, if you're feeling kinda low about the dues you've been paying;
Futures coming much too slow,
And you wanna run but somehow you just keep on staying,
Can't decide on which way to go.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I understand about indecision, But I don't care if I get behind. People living in competition; All I want is to have my peace of mind. ("Peace of Mind" - Boston)
~~~~~~~~~~
Wichita, Kansas...
Empty beer bottles littered the table in front of Dean, but the only ones that mattered were the first and the last. He'd given the bartender enough money to keep them coming, and as far as he was concerned, there was no end in sight.
Unable to sleep, he'd left Sam in a motel room down the road and made his way to the closest hole in the wall he could find, where the beer was as bottomless as his wallet and no one asked any questions.
A couple of girls had tried to get his attention, but when they'd realized he was more interested in his beer than in them, they'd finally relented and left him alone, scraps of paper with their names and phone numbers crumpled in a pile on the table, along with the empties. All he wanted was a little time to think, to try and sort things out, but that wasn't to be.
"Dean..."
He heard a familiar voice summon him out of his thoughts and didn't have to turn his head to know who it was. He knew that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. It was the angel Castiel, the one who'd pulled him out of Hell.
"This is not a solution, Dean," the angel scolded in that ever-patient and irritating voice of his that always reminded Dean of his father.
"I'm touched by your concern, Cas, but I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."
"No, Dean, I don't think you can."
"Did you trade your sword in to become my guardian now?"
"Why would I do that?"
"I thought there was a civil war going on," Dean pointed out, knowing that with Michael gone and God nowhere to be found, Heaven was in chaos. "How'd you manage to squeeze me into your busy schedule?"
"I am sensing some ambivalence in your attitude, Dean."
"You think?" Dean asked, taking a long swallow from his bottle of beer.
"There is a war going on, but time is relative. I have a few moments to spare, as you humans like to say."
"A few moments," Dean repeated, his voice dripping sarcasm. "That's big of you. Good to know you've got a few moments to spare for an old friend."
"Yes, well, I don't have much time," Cas continued, "but I thought we should talk."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"On the contrary, Dean. There is much to discuss."
"Like what?"
"Like Rhydin."
Dean swung his head at the angel and narrowed his eyes. "I don't wanna talk about that."
"Your soul was torn in half, Dean. You are still feeling torn."
Dean laughed, but there was no humor in it, only irony. "Torn" Why the hell would I feel torn?"
"You loved Quinn, as you love Sam and Lisa and Ben. You must be feeling torn between them. You can't be in three places at one time."
"Well, thank you, Captain Obvious."
"My name is Castiel, not..."
"Shut up, Cas." Dean turned back to his bottle of beer, which seemed to be the only solution to his problems at the moment. Drown his sorrows and try to forget them.
The angel paused to watch him a moment before continuing. "The demons sent you there, Dean. You didn't belong there."
"So you keep telling me."
"Do you want to go back?"
Dean turned again to face the angel, and the anger he was feeling melted slowly away, only to be replaced with pain and regret. "You said I don't belong there."
"You don't, but I can take you back there, if you wish."
Dean felt the tears prickling at the backs of his eyes. He knew he didn't belong in Rhydin. He knew he couldn't stay, but he'd give almost anything to be able to see Quinn one more time. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained with emotion. "I need to say goodbye."
The angel said nothing more, but pressed two fingers against Dean's forehead, and he was no longer in Kansas.
I understand about indecision, But I don't care if I get behind. People living in competition; All I want is to have my peace of mind. ("Peace of Mind" - Boston)
~~~~~~~~~~
Wichita, Kansas...
Empty beer bottles littered the table in front of Dean, but the only ones that mattered were the first and the last. He'd given the bartender enough money to keep them coming, and as far as he was concerned, there was no end in sight.
Unable to sleep, he'd left Sam in a motel room down the road and made his way to the closest hole in the wall he could find, where the beer was as bottomless as his wallet and no one asked any questions.
A couple of girls had tried to get his attention, but when they'd realized he was more interested in his beer than in them, they'd finally relented and left him alone, scraps of paper with their names and phone numbers crumpled in a pile on the table, along with the empties. All he wanted was a little time to think, to try and sort things out, but that wasn't to be.
"Dean..."
He heard a familiar voice summon him out of his thoughts and didn't have to turn his head to know who it was. He knew that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. It was the angel Castiel, the one who'd pulled him out of Hell.
"This is not a solution, Dean," the angel scolded in that ever-patient and irritating voice of his that always reminded Dean of his father.
"I'm touched by your concern, Cas, but I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."
"No, Dean, I don't think you can."
"Did you trade your sword in to become my guardian now?"
"Why would I do that?"
"I thought there was a civil war going on," Dean pointed out, knowing that with Michael gone and God nowhere to be found, Heaven was in chaos. "How'd you manage to squeeze me into your busy schedule?"
"I am sensing some ambivalence in your attitude, Dean."
"You think?" Dean asked, taking a long swallow from his bottle of beer.
"There is a war going on, but time is relative. I have a few moments to spare, as you humans like to say."
"A few moments," Dean repeated, his voice dripping sarcasm. "That's big of you. Good to know you've got a few moments to spare for an old friend."
"Yes, well, I don't have much time," Cas continued, "but I thought we should talk."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"On the contrary, Dean. There is much to discuss."
"Like what?"
"Like Rhydin."
Dean swung his head at the angel and narrowed his eyes. "I don't wanna talk about that."
"Your soul was torn in half, Dean. You are still feeling torn."
Dean laughed, but there was no humor in it, only irony. "Torn" Why the hell would I feel torn?"
"You loved Quinn, as you love Sam and Lisa and Ben. You must be feeling torn between them. You can't be in three places at one time."
"Well, thank you, Captain Obvious."
"My name is Castiel, not..."
"Shut up, Cas." Dean turned back to his bottle of beer, which seemed to be the only solution to his problems at the moment. Drown his sorrows and try to forget them.
The angel paused to watch him a moment before continuing. "The demons sent you there, Dean. You didn't belong there."
"So you keep telling me."
"Do you want to go back?"
Dean turned again to face the angel, and the anger he was feeling melted slowly away, only to be replaced with pain and regret. "You said I don't belong there."
"You don't, but I can take you back there, if you wish."
Dean felt the tears prickling at the backs of his eyes. He knew he didn't belong in Rhydin. He knew he couldn't stay, but he'd give almost anything to be able to see Quinn one more time. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained with emotion. "I need to say goodbye."
The angel said nothing more, but pressed two fingers against Dean's forehead, and he was no longer in Kansas.