The rhythmic clacking of the railroad tracks passing underneath their passenger car is a soothing undercurrent to the anxious cycling of what-ifs going through Castiel’s head. Roughly half of them given voice by Dean Winchester, slouched in the seat next to him, making a half-assed attempt at paging through a complimentary pamphlet on tourism in New Beijing.
“Hey, since we’re on our way to do the stupidest thing ever,” The man starts, and Cas turns a withered look on him. “You want some coffee?”
The stare between them, Dean unabashedly challenging and Castiel waiting for his maturity to show up any day now, lasts a solid half minute, before the angel gives up. He sighs, turning his attention back towards the scenery passing by outside the train car window.
“No, I’m fine.”
He disagrees with him on this - fine. This is the first opportunity Castiel’s had to do something more than train people how to throw a punch, or examine monster tunnels for escape routes, or patiently regurgitate information to testy and irate new arrivals. He’s determined to do something useful, something more than waiting for the next disaster.
We’ll see how long that determination lasts under the weight of Dean’s pointed scrutiny. Castiel gets roughly forty-five minutes of peace and watching the landscape pass by before it starts again.
“Maybe you should take a nap before prison.”
“I’m not tired, Dean.”
Flat, detached, he doesn’t even turn his eyes away from the window to address him properly. Judging by the soft snort that comes from his left, it hasn’t done anything to dissuade Dean from his prodding. Another seventeen minutes clack by with the side to side rocking of the train car chugging along.
"Hey, you remember that time we ran headfirst into a megacorporation that controlled an entire city with no plan at all to let them see all the cards in our hand for no reason? Heh, good times."
Cas tries a new tactic, turning to meet Dean’s eyes this time. “In your hunt for Dick, I remember.”
Oh, that expression isn’t pleased with him.
“You don’t need to say it like that.”
He didn’t need to say it like that, and Dean was probably referencing the Michael incident more than the Dick Roman one, but this conversation isn’t actually about Dick Roman or Michael. It’s about Dean disapproving of Cas making a probably reckless choice, so the rest is semantics. It buys him another half hour of silence.
Until human bodily needs occur, and of course Dean has something to say about that too.
"You going to the bathroom? Maybe you should grab a little plastic cup, in case they want a sample."
The audacity. How many hours does this trip have left?
“I will not walk through the train with a cup of urine.”
Not just ridiculous, but insanitary. They serve food on this train, Dean, come on.
On his way back from the bathroom, Cas stops an attendant, claiming his neighboring passenger is snoring loudly and requests a set of earplugs. With an understanding nod, the attendant hands him a pair, and he returns to his seat with both little foam cylinders plugging up his ears, regarding Dean’s glare with a cheeky smile, before he takes his seat again.
The earplugs win him a whole hour. Cas almost believes he’s beaten him. Almost. And then, there’s calloused fingers tugging one of the foam plugs right out of his ear, and Dean’s rough, southern drawl replacing it.
"Hey, you gonna mention that you're an angel of the lord and there's probably a little bit of grace inside they can scrape out for some bonus tests?"
Eyes towards the ceiling. Why this human.
“Really, Dean?”
Roughly five or six hours of this already and Dean is relentless. He must be picking up on how much he’s wearing on Castiel’s resolve, because the next comes immediately after, like a double-tap.
"You think a ski mask would help?"
“Are you finished?”
“Not even close.”
Cas makes an attempt to snatch the ear plug from Dean’s hand, and like a big kid teasing the smaller ones on a playground, he stretches his arm out well past where Cas can reach it without completely crawling over him and wrestling it away. His head presses back, tense, against the head rest of his seat, and Cas closes his eyes resolutely.
“I’m taking my nap before prison.”
He thinks there might’ve been an amused huff at that one, but Castiel’s not going to let his fondness for Dean’s glee get in the way of willpower and doing what needs to be done.
Even if what needs to be done doesn’t really need to be done, it just might be helpful for it to be done, maybe, if all goes according to plan.
Castiel’s eyes snap open as he realizes Dean’s succeeded in getting into his head with this. The doubt’s there, he’s just doing his best to ignore it. Apparently, he’s too easy to read, these days, because Dean pushes those buttons just a little harder.
"Maybe one of those old timey money sacks."
“Dean.”
The closer they come to the station in New Beijing, the more personal, and less passive in his aggression Dean’s commentary becomes. Now, they’re only twenty or so minutes from arrival in the station, and perhaps Dean sees that finish line rapidly approaching, stepping up his game.
"The good news is when you do get caught, you could knock out one single guard for 20 minutes, so you'll be fine."
The look shot to him is icy.
“Thank you, Dean, I’d forgotten how utterly powerless I am for half a minute.”
“Welcome.”
The smirk he's wearing doesn't help, and Cas gives up on responding at this point, casting his eyes back to the window without another word.
It isn't until they've just stepped off the train and onto the station platform that the last one comes, Dean's voice carrying over the din of the crowd just over Castiel's right shoulder, close enough he hears ever word perfectly.
"What do you think they set bail at for aliens who break into their highly secured, well-armed, extremely monitored building, on the same day as 50 other people that they'd all be watching closely."
And that's it. That's the last comment he needs to make for it to all click into place and the wealth of argument against Castiel's urgent need to do something tips the scales.
“Fine.” Cas snaps, not pleased with the way this decision's come about, but unable to give a solid argument he truly believes in. He wheels around, the crowd around them leaving very little in the way of space between them, Castiel's chest nearly bumping into Dean's. “You’re right. The idea was fool-hardy, reckless and stupid. Forgive me for attempting a step towards progress.”
It's rattled out with the intent to sound irritated, but Cas doesn't manage to mask the defeat and helpless frustration in his voice. His eyes dodge from Dean's quickly, skimming the crowd and surroundings. He doesn't wait for Dean's 'I told you so'.
“I’ll purchase passage back to New Amsterdam. Hold this.”
The duffle bag is shoved with an unnecessary roughness into Dean’s chest, Castiel unhappy about admitting failure when he’d so much wanted to prove to himself that he isn’t so useless as it seems. But Dean, despite the attitude, makes several points he can’t argue with. The fact he’s now accomplice to this by following Cas to New Beijing isn’t lost on him - either in appreciation for his willingness to put himself on the line for him, or the very real danger it’s pulling Dean into regardless of how against the plan he is.
When it all comes down to it, Castiel can’t put Dean in that position. He was willing to risk all of himself for this end, but not Dean.
Castiel’s still sporting a sullen almost-scowl as he stands in line for the ticket concierge, when his friend brushes up against his shoulder, nudging an elbow against Castiel's ribs.
“Look, man, the train back home doesn’t leave for another five hours. Think that gives us time to see a couple sights while we’re here.“
Cas regards him with narrowed eyes, suspicious and still bristling from the hours of Dean prodding and picking at him. But, he recognizes the veiled peace offering that it is. After a moment or so of shuffling along in line, a brief period of cold shoulder as Cas acquires tickets home, he finally turns back to digress.
“I was hoping to tour the Temple of Heaven before the mission.”
A slap to his shoulder, and Dean's already leading them off towards the nearest public transit stop.
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