4. Suffocating

When Castiel wakes the next morning, Dean is gone. The covers of his bed are pulled neatly over its surface and his night clothes are folded over the pillow. There are only two humans in the room. One he recognizes and one he does not.Meg is sitting quietly by the front of the small-sea, drawing again. She waves when she sees that he is awake. Castiel waves back distractedly as he searches for Dean. He can feel Dean’s mind but the link is weak, distant, and Dean does not answer him when he calls his name. While calling for him, Castiel watches the new human.The human that Castiel does not recognize is standing on a platform comprised of smaller tiers at the front-left corner of the small-sea. He’s shorter than Dean and Sam and he’s wearing a thing that Dean calls a ‘hat’. His beard is thicker and covers more of his face than Alistair’s or Gordon’s beards do. Bearded-one has his arms in the water, affixing a thick black square against the glass. Meg catches his eye and points to the front-right corner where a similar square is already in place.Castiel draws away from them, settling in the center of the grey-wall again where he can keep an eye on both the black-squares. He doesn’t know what they are and Dean is not answering. Sam and Jess aren’t here either and something like panic starts to make Castiel’s chest feel tight. His fingers pick at the bandage around his wrist and he prods at the little flicker of Dean’s mind that he can feel.Bearded-one steps down slowly, one tier at a time. His hands are wet and he dries them on a strip of cloth hanging from his pocket. On open box is resting on the ledge and from it bearded-one takes a thin arch of black. It ends in flat circles and one circle has an attached stick with a bulbous ending. He hands it to Meg and she slips it over the top of her head and adjusts the little stick so the bulb is by her mouth.She smiles at him and Castiel doesn’t like her smile. It makes him feel cold. Castiel thinks Meg is like a lure-fish, using her smile to bait before she bites. He does not smile back. She picks up a clipboard from the table next to her before she puts her fingers to one of the flat circles. Little red lights blink to life on the black-squares and Castiel sits up straighter, eyes darting from one to the other.There is a crackle of noise and Castiel’s side-fans flare to catch it. Then it dies away leaving only  the sound of Meg’s voice. It is dampened by the water, but Castiel can hear it clearly over the muted tones of her actual voice coming through the glass. He watches her lips move and matches them to the words in the water.“Good morning, Castiel. Did you have a good sleep?”He stares at her, eyes wide. Castiel understands, roughly. He recognizes the greeting and the ‘good’ and ‘sleep’ and the upward lilt at the end of her words as a question. He thinks she is asking if he slept well and he did. With the comfort of the connection to Dean’s mind, Castiel slept deeply and without dreams. He nods and she smiles, writing something on the clipboard.Castiel uncurls his tail and, with a small roll of his body, he swims closer. He keeps glancing at the black-squares, but they do not move. The light-points on them flick off when Meg moves her hand from the head-arch. She turns her head and speaks to bearded-one and this time Castiel does not hear her voice.He knocks on the glass until he has her attention again. He tilts his head in question and points at bearded-one. She puts her fingers to the flat-circle again, the lights flick on and the crackle makes him wince.“Bobby.”Castiel nods. Bearded-one is named Bobby.He skims the surface of the small-sea. The bars are down this morning and Castiel thinks maybe Sam and Jess haven’t arrived yet. He pushes his face above the waves.“Good morning, Bobby. Meg.”Bobby’s eyebrows rise up almost all the way to his hat. He doesn’t say anything, but he nods at Castiel and starts doing something with a new black-box. It is much bigger than the other two and has a small protrusion on the front. Bobby uses odd little items that Castiel doesn’t recognize on the back of the box. Castiel presses himself close to the glass and watches attentively, memorizing their shape so he can show them to Dean later and find out their names.Meg is laughing softly behind her hand. Castiel doesn’t understand what she finds amusing and he ignores her in favour of watching Bobby. Meg returns to her drawing and Bobby continues to work on the big-box.Castiel starts to feel twitchy and he finds it difficult to hold still. He has slept much later than he intended and he hasn’t done his exercises yet. He is hungry and worried because Dean is gone and not answering the connection. Their link is too weak to even get the most basic of emotions through it. All Castiel has is the sense that their minds are connected. It is troubling and distracting.Dean is supposed to be here. Castiel knows this. It’s only been one day since Lilith ordered Dean to stay with Castiel. The change in the plans, after only one day, is unsettling. His fans tremble lightly with the first hints of anxiety and Castiel breathes deep to try and keep himself calm. If Dean and Sam and Jess aren’t here, then Alistair and Gordon could return at any time.He knows how to protect himself. He’s already proved himself a fighter. But Castiel is worried because he doesn’t know what Alistair or Gordon might bring. Humans have so many things that Castiel doesn’t know about. He doesn’t know how to fight against them, or defend himself from them.Bobby moves from the ledge and picks up his tiered-platform. Castiel’s full attention is back on him. He carries it to the middle of the front-wall. Meg has to move her chair over to make room for him. He attaches the big-box to a long stick. Standing on his tiered-platform, he lowers the stick into the small-sea.Castiel hisses and flares his fans before darting away to the grey-wall. This stick looks nothing like the ‘dart-gun’ that Dean named as the rod-weapon. Dean isn’t here to explain what this stick and the box are and Castiel is very wary and very unhappy. He gathers everything in his mind and reaches out to Dean, pulling at that small flicker of presence with all he has.(Dean!) He pleads at the connection, begging wordlessly for his return. Panic swells in a stiff bubble behind his ribs and Castiel forces it at the link, hoping it gets through to Dean.Bobby uses the stick to press the big-box to the glass. He withdraws it, leaving the big-box sticking to the glass nearly half a tail-length from the floor. Castiel swims in tight circles along the length of the grey-wall, flexing his fingers.When Bobby leaves, he takes the ledge-box and stick with him. Meg is left alone and she taps at the glass, pointing at the big-box. Castiel’s fans flare and he growls low in his throat, shaking his head. He’s not going near it until Dean tells him what it is. Castiel twists up to the surface and slaps at the bars with his tail, frustrated that they are closed today.He hisses into the air “Dean!” before rolling down through the water and back to the floor. Meg frowns and rolls her eyes. She gets up from her chair and moves to the ledge along the opposite wall. He can’t see what she does with her back turned to him, but she has her hand on her hip and she’s leaning over the machine Dean said was another type of phone.Castiel’s stomach and chest feel tight and his breaths come in quick, sharp, painful bursts. Meg puts down the phone and lifts her fingers to the flat-circle. The crackle starts from the small-boxes again and Castiel claps his hands over his side-fans to block out her voice. He mouths Dean’s name at her and shakes his head.The connection with Dean flickers and Castiel stills. He ignores Meg completely and claws at the thin link, trying to make it wider, trying to strengthen it. Without warning it blooms forcefully, swamping Castiel’s agitation with a burst of concern and a flood of thoughts. Dean is reaching for him and Castiel welcomes the touch, drawing comfort from Dean’s mind.(Cas? What’s wrong?)Castiel sends the memories of Bobby and the stick and the boxes. Of Meg’s voice in the water. He sends his worry that Alistair and Gordon will return. His confusion and anger that Dean is gone.(Shit, Cas. I’m sorry! Just calm down, okay? I’m coming back.)Dean is apologetic and it only makes Castiel angrier. He doesn’t want Dean’s apologies, he wants an explanation. He wants the boxes removed from the small-sea. He’s hungry and he wants to hunt. He wants the taste of the ocean on his tongue and the rush of the currents in his gills.He wants to go home.Dean and Sam return together. Sam is carrying a wide box that is a few hand spans deep. The bottom half is blue and the top half is white. He puts it on the floor and slides it under the ledge and out of the way. Dean is carrying a large bucket. Water sloshes over the edge and Castiel can see the flash of coloured fins. He knows that Dean brought him live fish, but there is a thick knot in his stomach and the thought of eating makes his throat feel tight.(Sorry, Cas. We didn’t mean to take so long.)Sam moves to help Dean lift the bucket to the edge of the small sea. Castiel rises up sharply, reaching through the bars to shove the bucket away so the fish don’t drop in. Dean and Sam look to each other in surprise and lower the bucket.(You not hungry, Cas? You barely ate anything last night.)Castiel bares his fangs and growls. Dean abruptly takes a step away, his eyes wide. His surprise is a sharp pulse through his confusion. It gets lost in the tumult of Castiel’s anger, burning hot through their link.He points at the black-boxes and hisses at them. Castiel’s dislike for them flows against Dean’s objections, smothering them with images of removing the boxes. Beneath it all, Castiel’s hurt that Dean left and wasn’t responding to him throbs bright and painful.Sam takes the full weight of the bucket when Dean stumbles back. He immediately puts it down and goes to his brother’s side. Dean is clutching his head, his eyes closed tightly. He’s saying something to Sam, but Castiel can’t hear the muffled rumble of his voice over the pounding of his blood.He is angry. He is hurt. He is scared.This cage is too small. It is confining and the tepid water with its wrong taste is cloying on his skin and scales. Castiel wants to go home. He wants his family and the open ocean. And every single one of his thoughts and feelings are crashing into Dean’s mind.Sam snatches the head-arch from Meg’s head when Dean goes to his knees. He ignores her protests and doesn’t put it on properly. He holds it oddly against his ear and angles the bulbed-stick to his mouth. The crackle starts and Castiel hisses. His fans flare and he thrashes his tail against the floor and glass.“Castiel!” Sam’s voice is loud and panicked in the water, “Castiel, please stop! You’re hurting Dean!”Dean has one hand fisted in the short bristles of his hair. The other is clutching at Sam’s white coat. He’s breathing hard, doubled over and shaking. His features are twisted in a mask of pain. It’s like a blast of cold down Castiel’s spine. He startles away from the wall and severs the connection. Immediately, Dean collapses against Sam’s side. His forehead is shiny and damp and a few stray tears are on his cheeks.For a moment, Dean lifts his eyes to him. Castiel stares back, brow pinched tight in a frown. His emotions are conflicted and he can still feel the swelling pressure of panic in his chest. He snarls at Dean, jerking away to swim in large erratic circles. He stops often to slam his shoulder or tail against the walls.Sam helps Dean to his feet and Dean sways, wobbling with every step. Castiel watches them even as he fights against the glass edges of the small-sea. Meg is no longer standing at the ledge. Castiel doesn’t remember when she left or where she went. Sam is trying to herd Dean toward the door, but Dean keeps pushing him away.He sees a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. Castiel stills and looks sharply to the platform. Meg is standing on it, another of the dart-guns in her hand. Dean shouts a short, loud word at her and Sam leaves him leaning against the opposite ledge. His long legs carry him to her side and he grabs at her arm. Castiel still feels the sharp sting of the needle in the meat of his tail.Sam pulls her from the platform and he’s yelling at her. Meg shrugs and lets him pull the dart-gun from her hands. Dean stumbles heavily to the glass-wall and Castiel blinks at him. He thinks Dean might be calling his name, but all Castiel can hear is a high-pitch ringing and the edges of things are starting to blur. Colours swarm his vision, growing darker until everything is black. 

x

The lights hurt his eyes when he wakes again. Castiel hisses and covers them with his hands. Almost immediately it grows darker, the lights dimming. His head is pounding and his stomach is empty but every movement makes it roll and twist into uncomfortable shapes. His limbs feel heavy again and there’s an ache in his tail where Castiel knows the dart hit him.

“Cas, man. You okay?”

Castiel groans and shifts onto his side. Dean is crouched low at the edge of the small-sea. He has the head-arch on and he’s talking through the small-boxes. He looks tired and haggard, with dark half-circles under his eyes. Sam is walking away from the door. He isn’t wearing his white coat.

“Sorry about Meg. She wasn’t supposed to do that.”

Dean is speaking, but without the images and the feelings to go with the words, Castiel can barely understand him. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he feels more calm. He feels ashamed for his actions because he could have hurt Dean in many lasting ways. This makes the second time that he has attacked Dean’s mind and if he were back in the colony Castiel would be severely punished for his abuse of the kin-connection.

“Are you going to be okay?” Dean asks, voice soft as he speaks into the bulb-stick. “You were having one helluva panic attack.”

Sam kneels next to Dean. His voice is harder to hear through the small-boxes because he doesn’t have the bulb-stick. “Is he trying to set up the kin-connection again?”

Dean shakes his head, removing his hand from the flat-circle so Castiel can’t hear his words while he speaks with Sam. Then he looks back and the smile he gives him is small and strained and Castiel knows that Dean must still be in pain. Castiel feels his eyes sting and he struggles over onto his other side, presenting Dean with his back.

He’s hungry but he doesn’t want to eat. There’s a hollow pit in his stomach and his throat feels tight, as if something is caught in it. Castiel is sure that if he eats, he won’t be able to keep it down. And if it’s live fish that they give him, he doesn’t have the energy or the motivation to chase them. He feels clumsy and heavy and it hurts to think.

“Aw Cas, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” Dean knocks on the glass and it makes Castiel flinch. He curls in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. “Cas, please. It’s okay, really. I should have warned you about Bobby and what we were planning, but you were sleeping and I didn’t wanna wake you and now I’m kinda rambling… Jesus, Sammy, why did you let me have this thing?”

“He likes you better and he isn’t kin-connected with me.”

“Yeah, well this isn’t working so good in case you haven’t noticed. Cas won’t even look at me.”

“Have you tried reaching for hi–” The words cut out and Castiel knows it’s because Dean took his fingers from the flat-circle.

He hears the splash of extra water being dumped over the edge of the wall. The small-sea vibrates with the flutter of fins and the movement of fish. One of them darts past his shoulder and Castiel ignores it. He ignores it just as he ignores the gentle start-stop rumbles of Sam and Dean’s voices. Eventually even those fade. He hears the door shut and then there is silence.

The quiet presses in on Castiel from all sides. He can hear the humming of the machines Dean explained keep the boat moving. If he presses his fingers hard to the floor, he can feel the slight tremble of their presence. There is so much noise in this silence. It is nothing like the dead quiet at the bottom of the sea, where there is nothing but the pressure of the water on all sides and the feeling of his family around him.

It doesn’t take long for Castiel to become unnerved by it. He deals with the quiet as he did before and he sings. He keeps it low and hushed. If he sings loudly, the humans might come again and Castiel wants them to stay away. He doesn’t want to hear their voices or see their faces. Castiel wants to be left alone.

He sings several chords to call for his family and all that he misses. It is well into the song when Castiel realizes there is more beneath his song than just his voice. Startled, he stops and raises his head. The room is still dark and Dean is alone, sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. He’s holding something to his chest.

Dean’s hand moves over the center of the widest part. Strings run along the length of it. There is a long flat piece sticking out from the top the wide-part. Dean’s fingers press the strings into the flat-piece while he plucks at them with his other hand over the hole in the center of the wide-part. He stops briefly when he notices Castiel watching. Then the noises change, taking on a different tempo and tune.

Castiel twists himself up onto his elbows and watches with rapt attention as Dean’s fingers dance over the strings. The sounds are fast and blend together, like a voice but not. He knows it’s a song, but it’s one he has never heard before. Dean is still wearing the head-arch. He stops long enough to push forcefully at the flat-circle before his fingers return to the strings. The sounds come more clearly through the small-boxes and Castiel stares.

“It’s music.” Dean says, grinning, “Do you like it?”

Castiel tilts his head at the question. Dean simply laughs and puts aside the string-thing. He taps at the flat-circle before pulling the head-arch from his head and setting it on top of the drawers. Dean slides forward on the bed, sitting on the edge and resting his elbows on his knees. He’s staring at him and Castiel finds it hard to meet his eyes. He dips his head and turns away. Dean reaches out and knocks sharply at the glass. Castiel flinches at it, but he doesn’t look back. The crackle-noise starts and then Dean’s voice echoes in the water, sharp and commanding.

“Dammit, Cas. Look at me!”

Castiel flinches at the tone. He lifts his head slightly, but he’s still turned away. Dean knocks again and he gives the same command. Castiel turns his face very little, enough to see Dean out of the corner of his eye. 

Dean is tapping at his temple with one hand. The other is holding the bulb-stick to his mouth and he speaks into it again. “Cas. Kin-connection. Now.”

He knows what Dean is asking. But he won’t do it. Castiel hurt him and he can tell just by looking at him. If he was to touch Dean’s mind now, he would be able to feel Dean’s pain. Castiel doesn’t want to feel that. He doesn’t want to feel how he hurt the one human who has done nothing but be kind to him.

Castiel shakes his head and Dean slams his palm against the glass, scowling darkly.

“Cas, I can’t explain anything to you if you don’t talk to me.” His fingers curl into a fist and he pounds it against the glass again. “I’ve tried reaching out to you but my brain isn’t built that way and I just can’t. You gotta do it. Give me the kin-connection and do it now.”

He shakes his head again, mouthing one word. No.

Dean bares his teeth, face scrunching in anger. “I’m not going to be able to sleep with you sulking in here all night, Cas. I’m fine, you’re fine. There’s nothing for you to be emo about so just make the damn connection so I can explain to you about this morning.”

No.

He gets up and throws down the head-arch, leaving it on his bed. Dean paces from side to side in front of his bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His lips are pressed together in a tight line and every time he catches Castiel’s eye, he glares hard.

Castiel settles on his side again, his back to Dean. He flinches when Dean smacks the glass again and again at a heavier boom that makes the water tremble. Castiel rolls onto his back slightly, looking over his shoulder. Dean is gone and the room is empty. He sits up quickly, fans flaring with a flash of panic because Dean is gone again.

He presses into a corner and hugs his tail to his chest. The fish dart in a small school around the small-sea and Castiel watches the door. He doesn’t know who will come through it next. He doesn’t know if Dean will come back. And it’s his own fault. Castiel pushes his face against his scales and breathes deep, trying to calm that little knot of panic growing rapidly behind his ribs.

It doesn’t grow very large before the door bangs open. Castiel lifts his head and watches with wide eyes as Dean slams the door shut. He pauses, slipping a piece of metal over the door frame. He snatches up the head-arch before crossing the room with quick, long strides. He walks around the small-sea to the platform. Along the way, he removes both layers of shirts he wears. He drops his jeans and steps out of them as he steps onto the platform.

Castiel stares at Dean and notices, belatedly, that Dean is holding Jess’s necklace with the key. Dean unlocks the bars and flips them up. Dean is left standing in his underwear. He crouches and holds the bulb-stick to his lips.

“If you don’t talk to me, I’m coming in there and I’m not getting out until you do.”

Castiel doesn’t move. He barely breathes.

Dean frowns and drops the head-arch. He grabs the edge of the glass-wall and pulls himself over. The splash sends water everywhere and the fish scatter, gathering at the far side of the small-sea and away from the human. Dean takes a few breaths before taking in one big one and sinking down. He cuts at the water with his hands until he reaches the floor.

He rests there, at the seam of wall and floor. Dean floats too much to be able to sit properly. He keeps paddling with his hands to keep himself there. Castiel watches, curious and confused because he doesn’t know what Dean is doing. Dean doesn’t look away. He’s glaring hard at Castiel through the bubbles that keep escaping his nose and the corners of his mouth. His face is slowly going more and more red.

Castiel realizes, with a sharp jolt, that Dean isn’t going back up to breathe. He reaches out and touches Dean’s mind before he realizes what he’s done. Just like he did the first time he spoke to Dean.

(You’re going to drown!)

The tight hold to Dean’s body immediately relaxes. He plants his feet against the floor and pushes up. Castiel can hear his gasp for air from the other side of the small-sea. Dean clings to the edge of the glass-wall and breathes deep. Castiel can feel him scrabbling to hold the connection between them, though it amounts to nothing. If Castiel wants to break the connection, he can do so whether Dean wants it or not.

(Took you long enough. Fuck, I thought I was gonna hafta die before you’d make the friggen connection.)

(I wouldn’t let you die, Dean.) Castiel is almost insulted that Dean would even think that he would let him drown.

(I know. But you were cutting it close there. You calmed down enough to let me explain things to you now?)

Castiel uncurls and slinks along the floor to the other side of the small-sea. Dean watches him through the waves, dipping his face under every now and then to see more clearly. Castiel gently touches at the edges of Dean’s mind, assessing the damage he did earlier. Dean’s thoughts are tired and weak and Castiel can easily sense that he’s drained and needs to sleep.

(Go to bed, Dean. We can talk in the morning.)

(No.) Dean shakes his head and sinks a little again. (I’m not gonna be able to sleep with all this shit between us. So you shut up and let me explain about what happened this morning, okay?)

Castiel presses his lips together and frowns up at Dean. He doesn’t like the commanding tone, but he nods. If it will get Dean to rest sooner, then he’ll do it.

Dean grins and lifts his head to breathe. Castiel flicks his tail and rises up too. He knows humans like to see each other when they speak and he knows it can’t be comfortable for Dean to keep holding his breath and looking down. Castiel knows it isn’t because he can feel Dean’s irritation crackling along the very edges of Dean’s thoughts. It eases away the moment Castiel’s head breaks the waves.

“Thanks.” Dean grins, his gratitude filtering slowly through the link. Castiel keeps the connection thin on purpose. He doesn’t want to strain Dean’s mind more than it already has today.

“So let’s make this brief, huh? I’m tired and you want me in bed as much as I want to be in bed and I don’t mean that in nearly as sexual a way as that came out. Stop tilting your head at me, dude, I’m not explaining that.” Dean’s nose crinkles, but the lines beside his eyes are laugh lines and he’s smiling so Castiel thinks whatever he’s saying is okay even if he doesn’t fully understand, even with Dean’s emotions and thoughts flickering through their connection.

Dean flushes pink and his thoughts get washed over with panic. He shakes his head and coughs, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. Castiel tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. Their connection is much too weak for him to see the images that Dean thinks he’s seeing. He’s only getting the barest of thoughts and emotions.

“Anyway…” Dean clears his throat, looking at a point over Castiel’s shoulder, “I didn’t wanna wake you this morning. I went to get you the fish for breakfast, but I got stopped by Lilith.”

Castiel frowns at the name and his fans flicker. Dean is sharing his memories with Castiel. These are different than the potent memory of how he got his scar. The connection is half closed and Castiel is only getting images without the emotions that go with them. He gets random words, naming locations or items that Castiel doesn’t know.

“She took me and Sam back to her office and we got a helluva talking to about how we punched out Alistair and Gordon.” Dean runs a hand through his hair, grinning wryly at the memories. Castiel gives an amused snort. He enjoys those memories too. “She’s more interested in learning things about you than she is in how those two get treated, but Sam and I can’t hit them anymore. If we do, she’ll fire us. Even if you like me the most. And if I leave, then Alistair and Gordon will get to do what they want.”

Castiel reaches out and grabs Dean’s wrist, his eyes wide. (Dean. Stay!)

Dean grins. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. But you understand why I wasn’t here earlier, right?

He nods. (Yes, Dean. What are the boxes?) He points at the big-box and the small-boxes.

“Oh those? They’re like… phones. The small ones are ‘speakers’ and they let you hear us when we speak into the head-set.” He accompanies the names with the images of what they are. Then he passes along the image of the big-box and the protrusion on it. He imagines an image of Castiel pushing on the protrusion and speaking with his throat-voice into it. “And when you push the button and talk, we’ll be able to hear it out here. It’s a way for the others to talk with you. When you’re better with your words and stuff.”

(Why would I phone you?) Castiel frowns, confused. Why would he want to phone Dean if he has the kin-connection.

Dean shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “Not me, exactly. But Sammy and Jess.” A flash of jealousy blazes through the connection before Dean reels it back quickly. “Unless you want to set up the kin-connection with them too, but that’s up to you…”

Castiel draws back and sinks until his nose is underwater. His fans are twitching and he chews his bottom lip.

“You got something to say, Cas?” Dean raises one eyebrow and tilts his head, “Spit it out.”

(I’m sorry.) He gestures at Dean’s head. (For hurting you. I should have had better control over myself.)

“Apology accepted. But seriously, dude, you were having a panic attack.” Dean waves his hand between them in a gesture Castiel has come to associate with brushing things aside. “I’m surprised you didn’t hyperventilate yourself into an coma or something. That’s why Meg drugged you. She thought you were hurting yourself.” He reaches out and brushes his fingers over Castiel’s shoulder lightly, “You okay? You were hitting things pretty hard earlier.”

Castiel shrugs and winces. His shoulders are littered with bruises and the healing cuts from the coral from what feels like an age ago already. Dean frowns and pulls his hand back quickly, as if he’s the one who hurt Castiel.

(I’m fine. Thank you for your worry.) Castiel quirks a small smile and then frowns as his stomach growls.

Dean laughs and waves him off. (Go eat. I’m gonna dry off and hit the sack.)

He turns away from Castiel, grabbing at the edge with both hands. The muscles in his arms and back tighten and Castiel finds it fascinating to watch. Dean kicks, his feet thumping against the glass, as he lifts himself out of the water. He starts in surprise and nearly falls back in when Castiel places his hands on his hips.

“Whoa! Cas, the hell are you doing?!”

Castiel flares his tail-fans wide and beats his tail through the water once. It propels him up and he pushes Dean higher, helping him get his leg over the wall. Dean drops to his feet on the platform and his cheeks are pink again. Castiel likes it. It makes his freckles stand out more.

“Warn a guy next time, okay?” Dean pulls at the edge of his underwear. They are heavy with water and he holds them to his waist, keeping them from falling. “Humans have a thing called ‘personal space’ and I dunno about you fin-kin but seriously, ask first.”

(Yes, Dean.) Castiel doesn’t understand why humans would take issue with being close to someone. As a hatchling, Castiel used to sleep curled in a tangle with his nest-siblings.

Dean reaches across to the close the bars and Castiel dives with a huff. He eyes the fish swimming idly and his stomach growls again. He licks his lips and grins at Dean before starting his chase. Dean dries off with another strip of cloth – (It’s called a ‘towel’.) – as he collects his clothing. He drops them in a basket hidden under his bed and puts the string-thing – (It’s a musical instrument. A ‘guitar’.) – in a case also stored under the bed. He starts rummaging through the drawers.

Castiel is eating one of his catch when Dean’s nervous thoughts touch his. They are tinged with discomfort and Castiel lifts his head to look at him sharply.

(Dean?)

He shuffles his feet, a clean pair of his underwear in his hand. (Can you turn around for a minute?)

(Why?) Castiel frowns, swallowing his bite.

(Coz’ I don’t want you to see me naked, geeze. Just turn around.) He draws a circle in the air with his finger.

Castiel blinks at him. (I don’t understand.)

Dean groans and rubs his hand over his face. (Of course you don’t. You’re always naked. Just turn around and I’ll… I’ll try to explain the concept of nakedness to a guy who’s constantly naked. Yeah, that’ll work over well... I’m going to stop thinking about being naked now.)

Castiel takes another bite and, despite his confusion, turns his back. (Why do humans wear so many clothes?)

(Warmth and protection against the elements, mostly. Modesty too. We cover our naughty bits so not everyone can see them. We’re usually only naked with a romantic partner, and sometimes family but even that can be awkward.)

Licking at a bone, Castiel thinks it over. Dean is purposefully avoiding providing images for some of the words he is using. Words that Castiel does not recognize. (What are ‘naughty bits’?)

(Of course you pick up on that. C’mon Cas, let it drop would you? Okay, you can turn around now.)

Castiel looks over his shoulder and Dean is sitting on the edge of his bed now. He’s wearing the night pants that had been folded on his pillow, but he hasn’t put on another shirt. The blankets are pulled back on the bed and he has a hand over his mouth, covering a yawn.

(Dean. What are ‘naughty bits’?) Castiel prods again.

Dean groans and hangs his head. (Can I get Sam to explain that? Please. Coz’ I really don’t want to.)

(I don’t have the connection with Sam. If he is willing, I can try when he gets here.)

A frown pulls at the corners of Dean’s mouth and there is another pulse of jealousy tinged with possession. Dean rubs furiously at his hair with both his hands. He’s muttering words with his mouth and they flit through his mind. Castiel doesn’t know these words and Dean won’t explain them either. It’s frustrating and Castiel snatches a fish from the water as it darts by, biting into it with more force than necessary. The brittle bones break under his teeth.

Dean flops back in his bed. He pulls the blanket over his shoulders and rolls over to face the wall, his back to Castiel. His mind is forcefully kept quiet for several minutes and Castiel frowns at his back. He lets his displeasure push through the connection. He is answered with images of a faceless male and a faceless female. Neither are wearing clothes.

Castiel greedily takes the images and examines them. From the hips up, they look much like fin-kin. From the hips down, they are very different. Where Castiel’s genitals are on the inside, a human male’s are on the outside. They even look similar. The females are different and they have nothing there. Castiel is intrigued because they have hair in other places aside from their heads and faces.

He wants a closer look but he can’t make the images bigger. He needs Dean to provide him with larger memories of them.

(Holy fuck. No way in hell. Eat your fish. I’m going to sleep.) Dean pulls his pillow over his head and shuts Castiel out.

Curious and disgruntled, Castiel prods at Dean’s conscious. (I’ll show you fin-kin. Please?)

(Christ, no! Cas I don’t wanna know about what fin-kin naughty bits looks like. Sam might, but I don’t swing that way. I really, really don’t. I’ll talk to Sammy about it in the morning, but seriously, no more sex talk okay?)

(What’s ‘sex’?)

(Cas!) Dean whines, exasperation and desperation edging his thoughts. (That is talk for the scientists not for the mechanics. Seriously just stop and let me sleep. Please.)

Castiel huffs, chewing disapprovingly. (Fine. Sleep well, Dean.) 

x

“Hello Sam.”

Sam jumps slightly. He turns on the lights and then smiles and waves at Castiel. He searches around for the head-set and Castiel pushes the button on what Dean had called the ‘microphone’. “Ledge.”

He locates the head-set and slips it over his head. The lights on the speakers blink on. “Good morning, Castiel. Did you sleep?”

“No.”

Sam removes the bucket from hanging on the corner of the small-sea. He examines the contents and raises his eyebrows, smiling at Castiel. “Spent all night eating, huh? You feeling better today? Less freaky-outie?”

“Yes. Dean sleep.” Castiel looks pointedly to where Dean is still under his blanket. He’s facing the small-sea now and one arm is dangling over the edge of his bed, his face buried in the pillow.

“He does like to sleep in.” Sam smiles warmly at his brother before placing the bucket near the door. “Jess is bringing something for you today.”

Castiel tilts his head, brow furrowed. He shakes his head because he doesn’t understand.

Sam shrugs. “Sorry, I can’t explain further. Unless you want to do the kin-connection with me. I know you almost did it on the reef…” He runs his hand through his hair and looks at Castiel hopefully. “I mean, we don’t really know why you’re only doing it with Dean, but if you want to, you can do it with any of us, y’know, right?”

Castiel blinks at him.

“Never mind.” He shakes his head and turns to start turning on the computers. “We’ll ask Dean when he wakes up.”

(With you two chatting like old ladies, how the heck am I supposed to sleep?)

Castiel looks over sharply, still holding down the button. “Good morning, Dean.” Their link is bright and strong this morning. Images, thoughts and emotions are vibrant and clear. Castiel is glad that a night’s sleep has healed Dean’s mind.

Sam looks too and Dean is sitting up, rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely. “Mornin’ Sam.” (Mornin’ Cas.)

“Dean.” Cas says, his finger still on the button and waiting until he has Dean’s eyes on him. “Explain.”

Dean yawns again, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. (Explain what?)

He’s using his throat-voice so Sam can hear. Dean won’t be able to get out of explaining if Sam knows that Castiel is curious. It’s an underhanded trick, but Castiel wants to know. “Naughty bits.”

Sam makes a choking noise into the head-set and he spins around, “What the hell, Dean?!”

Dean groans and throws his pillow. It bounces harmlessly off the glass-wall and Castiel doesn’t understand the point of it. The speakers switch off and Sam crosses the room to loom over Dean, talking to him in quick loud words. Dean is holding his face in hands and talking through them.

(Thanks so much for this.) He glares at Castiel from between his fingers.

(You’re welcome.)

(… You don’t understand sarcasm, do you?)

(What’s ‘sarcasm’?)

Dean shakes his head again and looks away. (Never mind. You okay with me going to get a shower and more food?)

(Yes, Dean.)

(Good.) He gets up and gives Sam the key from around his neck before going to the drawers for his clothes. (Sam is going to… uh… show you pictures. I guess. Of ‘naughty bits’. I don’t want to be here for this because it’s going to be all sorts of awkward.)

(Why?)

(It just is, Cas. And Sam, kinda… Augh.) Dean stops and presses his face into his clothes. Castiel thinks this is something weird for him to do, if he has the look on Sam’s face as anything to go by. Dean rolls his shoulders and then a shudder makes his whole body shake. (He wants to know about fin-kin bodies, okay? Can you… tell him about that?)

Castiel swims in a little circle, contemplating it. (I would need the kin-connection.)

Dean’s thoughts sour, but he must mention it to Sam, because Sam brightens considerably. He glances at Castiel hopefully. He looks between Dean and Castiel, rocking from side to side.

(It’s not up to me who you make the kin-connection with, Cas.) Dean shrugs, rolling his clothes and tucking them under his arm. His expression is impassive but his mind is a swirl of unhappy emotions. Castiel can feel Dean trying to keep them from him. He doesn’t ask about them. (But if you’re going to make it with anyone? Sam and Jess are your best options. Got that? If you trust me, you can trust them.)

Castiel bites his bottom lip and tentatively gives Dean the memory of Sam and the dart-gun back at the light-beds.

Dean winces and their link is flooded with regret. (Not his finest moment, I’ll give you that. But really, he was just doing his job. We didn’t know you guys were… Well, we thought you were just another kind of fish.)

Castiel snorts, insulted. He glares at Dean and gets an apologetic shrug in return. (Obviously we know better now.)

(Not well enough to let me go.) He snaps and only feels a little bad when Dean flinches. Sam’s expression falls too when Dean explains it to him. Castiel swims a lap around his small-sea before stopping and pressing the microphone-button. “Go.”

Dean doesn’t need to be told twice. He leaves quietly and Castiel lets their connection fades until he only senses his presence and nothing further. He doesn’t want to let it go completely like he did the last time Dean went to bathe. Dean understands and doesn’t complain. In fact, his emotions are pleased before Castiel can no longer sense even that.

Sam shuffles in place before he turns back to the computers. Castiel watches his back and plucks at the bandage around his wrist. He thinks it should be alright to remove it soon. He could tell Sam with the microphone, or knock on the glass and use actions. Or he could tell Sam through the kin-connection.

Sam stills at the first touch. He turns around quickly and stares at Castiel with wide eyes as he increases his presence in Sam’s mind. Where Dean had confusion and cautiousness, Sam’s thoughts swarm with curiosity and excitement. His mind is a hive of activity, thousands of different things swirling together. Castiel can’t help but compare it to Dean. Where Dean’s thoughts and knowledge are based on the physical and things he can do with his hands and how things come together, Sam’s are more…. scientific and theological.

It’s an interesting difference and Castiel thinks he might what to look deeper into it. But that would be delving further into their minds than either one would be willing to give. Castiel draws back until he is only sliding along the edges of Sam’s mind.

(Hello, Sam.)

Tentatively, Sam reaches back. His curiosity is almost insatiable and he brushes along Castiel’s mind just as he did his. (Hi, Castiel. This is… wow. This is really cool.)

Castiel frowns. He doesn’t know that expression. Sam’s thoughts are coming in words and Castiel shushes him with a sharp admonition. He explains through example and what little of their words he knows. (I don’t fully understand your language. I learn more every day, but you need to speak not with words but images, thoughts, feelings. Do you understand?)

(Yes.)

Castiel smiles slightly and nods, satisfied. (I think the bandage can be removed soon.) He holds up his wrist for Sam to see.

Sam nods in agreement. (We can take it off later when the others are here.)

(Alright. What did you say earlier about Jess?)

Sam grabs a chair and drags it over to the glass-wall. He balances a clip-board on his knee and writes furiously while they talk. (She’s bringing a really big mirror. So you can see yourself, all of yourself. God, wow. This kin-connection is going to make it so easy to learn about merma– sorry. About fin-kin. This is amazing, Castiel.)

(I want to learn about humans too.)

(What would you like to know?) He looks up, smiling brightly. He flushes pink like Dean did when Castiel sends him the images of the naked female and male that Dean showed him last night. Sam shifts in his seat.

(Oh. Um. Okay. Just… Yeah.) He closes his eyes and rubs at them with his fingers for a moment. And then the connection gets flooded with several images. All of them are close-ups of female and male genitals and Castiel is almost overwhelmed.

He draws away, shutting the connection so Sam can’t give him anymore and he sorts through them. Castiel only opens the link to get the names of things. Sam rubs at the back of his neck as he explains and his thoughts are self-conscious and tinged with embarrassment. Castiel ignores it and asks his questions when he wants to know why or how or what.

(Can I ask my questions now?) Sam asks after he’s answered dozens of Castiel’s.

Castiel nods. (Of course. You can ask me anything, Sam.)

(How do fin-kin reproduce?) He sends images of smaller humans, tiny and held in the arms of bigger ones. Children and adults, Castiel thinks. Sam’s thoughts cut off suddenly and his head swivels toward the closed door. (Just a moment, Cas.)

Castiel presses his hands and his nose against the glass, watching closely as Sam gets up and goes to the door. He pulls it openly widely and Castiel shouts his name with voice and mind when he is knocked to the floor with Gordon’s arms around his waist.

(Sam!)

Sam is shouting at Gordon, trying to push him away as Gordon sits on his stomach and grabs his arms to hold him in place. Alistair is right behind Gordon. He has a length of braided kelp – (No, Castiel. It’s rope. Shit, what are they planning?) – and Castiel bangs on the glass as they force Sam over onto his stomach, tying his hands together. Sam is struggling violently, his voice loud through the glass.

Gordon shoves a strip of cloth in his mouth, tying it tightly behind his head. He takes the key from the necklace. Castiel presses the button on the speaker-box.

“Sam! Stop Alistair! Stop Gordon!” Castiel bangs on the glass with his free hand, hissing and snarling and flaring his fans. They glance at him, but neither of them show even the slightest hint of fear.

Alistair drags Sam out of the way while Gordon leaves the room. Sam is left lying next to Dean’s bed. Sam is outraged and his thoughts are roaring through the connection as he struggles against the bindings. Castiel leaves their connection, stretching for Dean’s. He forces it wide.

(Dean! Come back!) He explains in brief flashes of images of Alistair and Gordon. Of Sam bound and gagged. Of the very small-sea that Gordon pushes into the room. Of the odd machine suspended above the water and them shutting the door and sliding the metal piece over the door frame. (Dean, please!)

Dean’s answer is distant, but he responds with anger and harsh words Castiel doesn’t know. (Shit! I’ll be there as soon as I can, Cas. Just hold on! Jesus Christ, hold on!)

Castiel presses against the right glass-wall, as far from the platform and the bars that Alistair is raising. He tosses aside the key and helps Gordon move the very small-sea next to the platform. Castiel growls. His back-fans expand to their full width and he bares his fangs at them. Gordon gives Alistair another dart-gun and Castiel snarls at it.

“If you don’t want to get shot again, then I suggest you play nice and come on over.” Gordon’s voice is snide and proud in the water and Castiel glares at him for taking the head-set from Sam. “We just want a blood sample. Nothing too bad.”

Sam provides the images of the needle pressing into his arm and drawing out his blood. Castiel shakes his head violently and wraps his arms around his chest.

(Castiel, they’re going to knock you out. Like Meg did yesterday. If you listen to them they won’t put you to sleep. If they knock you out, they can hurt you worse if you’re unconscious.) Sam’s thoughts are bitter and full of hatred. He does not approve of their methods.

(Dean will be here soon.) Castiel assures him as he reaches for Dean again. Dean’s thoughts are agitated and he’s using the harsh words again.

Alistair and Gordon are talking. Sam stills and his surprise shocks through the connection. (Dean’s not coming. He’s… They’ve got someone keeping him busy.)

Castiel looks at Sam with wide eyes and his chest suddenly feels tight. Alistair and Gordon are grinning and the dart-gun is dipping into the water, aiming at Castiel. He hisses at it. He doesn’t want to be forced to sleep again by their poison. He twitches and slinks along the glass wall. He stops at the speaker-box and pushes the button.

“Okay.”

Alistair passes the dart-gun to Gordon and draws a needle from his pocket. Castiel hugs himself again, his tail thumping against the floor as he pushes away. He breaks the waves as closely to the bars as he can get. Keeping his gills beneath the water, he holds his right arm out, fingers clenched tightly into a fist.

Alistair’s fingers are gentle as they wrap around his wrist. He makes soft cooing noises, but his smile is wide and dangerous when he bites a clear cover off the needle tip. Castiel tries not to flinch as Alistair presses the point into the soft skin just shy of the crease of his elbow. He frowns at the needle. It looks different than the image Dean and Sam showed him and he passes the image on to Sam.

Sam’s thoughts burst bright and scared and angry. (Castiel, no! He’s not taking blood he’s injecting something!)

“No!” Castiel hisses as he tries to jerk his arm away but the gentle fingers have turned hard and Alistair pulls at his wrist.

Castiel growls and brings up his other arm to claw at Alistair’s hand. His arm doesn’t move. His tail is thick and heavy and dead in the water. Fear and panic seize his chest, pressing on his lungs and even with his gills in the water Castiel has trouble breathing. Alistair hands the empty needle to Gordon. He places it aside with the dart-gun.

(Dean!) Castiel’s mind is screaming as Alistair drags him to the glass-wall. He calls for Dean and shouts at his body to move. He can make his fingers and the tip of his tail twitch.

Gordon gets his hands under Castiel’s arms and together they lift him from the water. Castiel’s gills flap uselessly as he tries to breathe. He sucks at the air and chokes on it. Strangled little noises escape his throat. Sam is shouting against the gag, even as his mind is trying to calm Castiel. They have another tank to transfer him to. He’s not going to suffocate. They’ll put him in that and he won’t die. Sam is swearing that he won’t let Castiel die.

Castiel keeps fighting with his body. He wants it to move. He wants to thrash his tail and knock Alistair down. He wants to claw and bite at Gordon. He wants to breathe.

Alistair has his arms around Castiel’s tail. Gordon has to step down from the platform backwards, blindly. Castiel’s body spasms. It is small but it jostles the humans slightly. Gordon loses his footing and he falls against the very small-sea. Water splashes over the edge and it shifts from its place, moving toward the opposite ledge.

He grunts as Castiel falls on top of him and Alistair is dragged down on top of him by the weight of his tail. What little air Castiel has in his lungs is forced out with a light whoosh. The edges of his vision are going dark and Castiel can’t feel his gills rippling but he knows they are. His mouth is wide and he’s gasping for water but he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe.

(DeanSamDeanwaterDeanDeanSamwaterDean–)

Castiel can barely feel the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. The edges of his vision are turning black and he can’t feel the pain of his empty lungs. Alistair’s shouting angry words at Gordon but it might as well be through the glass-wall again. Castiel can barely hear them. His heart is pounding hard. Gordon is struggling beneath him, trying to get out from under his weight.

(Cas!) Dean’s mind is swimming with anxiety as sharp and painful as Castiel’s own. (Azazel locked me in the bathroom. Fuck Cas, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.)

Castiel stops listening. His thoughts have turned to Balthazar and Gabriel, to Anna and Lucifer, to Michael and Raphael and his family, to his colony. He’s going to die here, staring at the ceiling of a room on a boat as a science project of a bunch of humans. He’s never going to see his loved ones again.

His gills flap uselessly before squeezing closed, sealing themselves to his neck. The moment they do so, Castiel’s chest heaves and his gasp is loud over the sound of his own heart. The room falls silent and Castiel’s lungs burn through the haze of the paralyzing poison Alistair put in his veins.

He coughs violently. Water bubbles in his throat and Gordon is pushing up on his shoulder to roll him onto his side. He gags on the water and coughs around it, clearing it from his lungs and exchanging it for air.

(Cas, buddy, you still with me? You okay?) Dean’s concern flickers brightly over everything else, forcing its way into Castiel’s mind.

(Dean. I – Dean. I can… breathe?)

The edges of his sight are starting to clear. Everything becomes sharper with each ragged breath. The feel of air in his throat, inside his chest, is different from the rush of water over his gills. It’s foreign and in him and Castiel is suddenly worried he won’t be able to breathe underwater again.

(Castiel. Stay calm. Just keep breathing.) Sam’s mind is much calmer than Dean’s. He’s the voice of reason alongside Dean’s tumult of anger and fear and distress.

Castiel has no choice but to breathe. He groans at this new feeling and if he could tremble, he thinks he would be. Gordon is no longer under him. Alistair rolls him onto his back and his long grinning face fills his vision.

“Well isn’t this something? We never would have learned this fun fact if you idiots had been left to your own devices. Aren’t we happy I’m here?” He’s laughing, his voice too smug.

He narrows his eyes at him but he can’t do anything when Gordon takes his arm and presses an empty needle to it. Castiel hisses air through his teeth as his blood fills the hollow tube. He takes a few tubes worth as Alistair disappears. Castiel feels the blunt touch of his fingers on his tail. There are a few dull tugs and Alistair turns away, dropping something into small, clear containers. He holds them up to the light and Castiel realizes with growing horror that Alistair has removed some of his scales.

(I’m sorry, Castiel. We would never do that without asking you, I swear it.) Sam’s thoughts are a constant in the back of his mind.

“We don’t need the pool. Just get the machine over here and put on the aprons. We’ll take the pictures here.”

(X-rays. Castiel, they’re going to take x-rays.)

Castiel growls low in his throat and his fingers twitch against the floor. Alistair moves the platform and he tugs at Castiel’s tail. He straightens it out along the floor and spreads his fans until they lay flat. He stretches his arms out along his sides before helping Gordon transfer the machine from the very small-sea to above Castiel.

They put on heavy grey clothes that cover them from their chest to their legs. Castiel closes his eyes and growls as they hold it over his head first. The process is slow and they move it in small increments down his body. He grits his teeth and hisses at them as they do it. The x-ray camera is clicking over his tail when the door vibrates against the thin metal holding it shut.

It bangs in place several times before the metal snaps.

“Alistair!” Dean shouts, stomping his way into the room. “Gordon!”

“Welcome to the party Dean-o!” Alistair calls casually as he helps Gordon steady the x-ray over the end of Castiel’s tail. “Bit late, aren’t you?”

Dean’s anger magnifies, mingling with Castiel’s own, when he sees Sam tied up. He frees him first and then Sam’s spitting angry words as soon as the gag is removed. They come around the edge of small-sea together.  Dean drops to his knees and tucks his hands under Castiel’s shoulders before pulling him up to lean heavily against his chest. Castiel can feel Dean’s heart beating hard against his back.

(You okay, Cas?)

(I want to hurt them.)

He’s jostled by Dean’s sharp huff of a laugh. Castiel growls again. There is nothing funny about this. Alistair and Gordon have violated him. They’ve taken his blood and they are going to see his insides with the pictures the x-ray camera has taken. They took his scales and they could have killed him. No fin-kin has ever been above water long enough to learn their lungs can breathe air.

Each breath is still sore and rough in his throat.

“You should leave now.” Sam snarls at them. “Take your shit and go.”

Gordon’s lips curl in a sneer and he helps Alistair place the x-ray camera aside. “We got more physical data in the last fifteen minutes than you dumbasses have in the last three days.”

“That doesn’t matter when you’re basically attacking him.”

“He’s not human, Sam. You shouldn’t be treating him as one.”

Dean slides one arm around Castiel’s chest to hold him in place. His hand is warm where it lays over Castiel’s ribs. “He’s more human than either of you.”

(Cas, you gonna be okay if I get you back in the tank?)

(I think so.)

Dean moves to his side, arm slipping around to hug his back as he slips an arm under his tail. He rocks back onto his feet, dragging Castiel into his lap. Castiel’s head lolls onto his shoulder and he grunts as his temple bounces against Dean’s jaw. Sam is yelling at Alistair and Gordon again. Castiel thinks this is a normal thing, it’s happened so many times now.

(Shit. You’re heavier than you look.)

(I am not fat.)

(Dude, I didn’t say you were.) Dean huffs another laugh and grits his teeth.

Castiel can feels the muscles in Dean’s arms tensing around him. He makes soft grunting noises as he stands. Castiel knows it’s an effort for Dean to step onto the platform. He jostles Castiel against the glass a few times and they both hiss.

(Sorry, Cas. This is just… really hard.)

“Sammy, leave the asshats alone already and give me a friggen’ hand here.” Dean staggers slightly, tipping back dangerously.

Sam is at his side almost immediately. He steadies Dean and gets his hands under Castiel. The edge of the glass wall digs bluntly against his side for a moment before Castiel is tilted over and into the water. It’s cool on his skin and his gills flutter with his first breath. Water flows through them, washing the burn of the air from his throat and filling his lungs. He sinks to the bottom of the small-sea and breathes deep.

(Cas?)

(I’m fine, Dean. How long until I can move again?)

Sam answers. (It shouldn’t last too long. It was just a small paralytic we use for working with the bigger creatures. You should be able to move again in thirty minutes or so.)

(I don’t know how long that is.)

Dean supplies images of the clock on the wall. He explains that when the large needle (which is actually called a ‘hand’ and that is just confusing) is on a certain symbol, than Castiel should be able to move again. Castiel can see the clock from where he’s laying on his side and the large hand is on the other side of the clock from the symbol he wants.

Sam leaves Dean alone with Castiel, worried because Jess should have showed up by now and it’s possible that Alistair and Gordon arranged for her to be detained like Dean was. Dean cleans the room in the meantime.

Castiel watches the clock and he waits.