Crossroad Blues

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

Someone slotted a coin into the ancient jukebox, and soon Robert Johnson's familiar voice and guitar began "Crossroad Blues", one of his iconic songs. Worried that the music might have made him miss his ringtone, Dean checked his cell phone for the twelfth time that night, and yet again found that there were no texts, no voice mails, no missed calls ... absolutely jack shit.

Fuck.

This was bad.

His dad was on a hunting trip, looking into some mysterious deaths of young men driving home who never made it, and had promised Dean that he'd contact him within a few days. It was going on a whole week at this stage, and Dean hadn't received so much as a text saying he had reached the town, let alone news of how the hunt was going.

He sighed, and ordered another beer from Ellen while he tried to decide what the hell he should do.

Dad wasn't answering calls or messages, and Dean was definitely starting to get worried. What could he do about it, other than sit here and worry? All he had to go on was the name of the town John Winchester had gone to, and some sketchy details of the missing persons that prompted the trip.

He scrolled through his contacts, hesitating over Sam's number. It was kinda late to call him. College boy like him would probably be studying or sleeping at this hour of night. Dean snorted. He still had no idea why Sammy had decided that sort of life was preferable to hunting. Damn kid still cared about what was right in the eyes of the law, not what was right when it came down to doing what needed to be done to save lives.

He brought the beer to his lips, swallowing the cold liquid rapidly.

Times like this, he kinda wished he had an angel on his shoulder to tell him what to do. Fat chance of that, of course, there was no such thing as angels. Ghosts, vampires, wendigos, demons ... all those things were real, but not angels.

"Fuck," he grumbled under his breath. "Call Sammy into this or not?"

[CASTIEL]

"Go to earth Castiel", Uriel had ordered him, "Find the Winchester boy, the oldest one, Dean Winchester, and smite him down."

And so Castiel had come to earth.

You might ask, why had he not asked why, why this human had to die, why had he not questioned the right and wrong of it, why had he not doubted his brothers orders? It was simple, he was a soldier, and angel, and neither soldiers or angels questions the orders of superiors. Even when those orders made them frown, made them question the order of things, when those orders went against every part of him, Castiel didn't question because he was not allowed to question and without free will, he was unable to do anything other than follow out what he'd been instructed to do. It had been that way as long as he could remember, and would always be that way.

Finding Dean Winchester had been easy, Castiel had the knowledge of heaven on his side after all. And now he stood outside the run down looking road house in nowhere America and watched it carefully, he would rather not have to take any lives that he needn't, so he would have to wait until the man left the building. If he simply walked in and smote him, he would cause a scene and then have to clean up his own mess.

He frowned, he was starting to attract attention, and he knew this bar was a hunter's haunt, so he dipped his head, not looking at anyone and walked into the bar, taking a seat stiffly on a stool and looked around carefully, his blue eyes lingered on Dean Winchester for a moment too long and then he looked away at the woman who had come over to him and asked what she could get him.

"A water please."

He tells her, his voice a little to loud, he had not yet used it in his new vessel and he frowned, he would need to work on getting it right.

The woman gave him a funny look, in fact a number of people were giving him funny looks and he frowned again, ducking his head and wrapping both hands around the glass that was put in front of him with a thwack, the woman it appeared was not happy about his order.

He took a sip of his water, struggling to swallow successfully, it had been a thousand years since he had been to earth, he was clearly out of practice.

Now all he to do was sit and wait for Dean Winchester to leave and then he would be able to follow him and get his mission done so he could return home for his next assignment, it was not a good time for heaven or angels and Castiel was eager to return.

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

The jukebox clicked, and Robert Johnson's blues were swiftly replaced with a Tom Waits track. This hour of night, hunters didn't want AC/DC raising the rafters, they wanted to chill out a bit after a long hard day hunting, or mourn fallen comrades. Thing about a place like Harvelle's Roadhouse was that most hunters knew who was whom, and could pick out a fellow hunter a mile off. Strangers in this bar were about as rare as unicorns, and just about as likely to stand out.

Dean raised his eyebrow, and turned his head to regard the newcomer. Trenchcoat over a black suit? That wasn't standard hunter attire. His hair looked too mussed up for him to be posing as an FBI agent or anything like that, and everything about him was too awkward, too loud, too attention grabbing. Plus, those big blue eyes were too pretty for Dean not to have noticed him before. Definitely a stranger, and not a hunter.

Dean grimaced.

If this was just some random idiot who had wandered into the wrong place, he couldn't leave him to get his ass handed to him by the hunters, and even Ellen was giving him the stinkeye. What was that he was drinking - water?!

Dean laughed, and stood up, decision made. He walked over to the man, and clapped an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, buddy!" he said just loud enough for the other bar patrons to hear. "C'mon outside, wasn't expecting you so soon." He lowered his voice, and said through a forced smile, "No idea who you are, but you're in the wrong bar, stranger. I'll walk you out, and you can get yourself safely out of here before Rufus over there starts carving you up, okay?" He tried to steer the man off his barstool, but it felt like trying to push a mountain. Dude was stronger than he looked, either that or Dean was drunker than he thought!

[CASTIEL]

Castiel looked up surprise dusting his expression before he set it back to his blank, though there was something like softness behind his eyes, after all, he was a compassionate angel, not to mention he cared about his fathers creations. Even when a lot of his brothers despised them and called them 'mud monkey's' Castiel was one of the few who cared.

It was what made smiting this particular human so much harder not to question, after all, why did he deserve to die? Castiel didn't know, he hadn't asked, because he wasn't allowed to. He simply had faith that if the man had to die it was gods will and he was an instrument created to carry out his fathers orders.

It was surprising to him that the human Dean Winchester had come over to him, it made very little sense to Castiel and the confusion was the next thing to enter his eyes as he tipped his head to the left and stared at Dean Winchester intensely trying to work out what the man was asking of him and why he had a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't understand, you do not know who I am Dean Winchester, why are you..." He started, luckily his voice considerably softer than the first time he had spoken. At least he had managed to get that under his control. He paused and let the human finish talking and frowned. "Why should anyone want to carve me up?" He asked, eyes glancing at the man in question and then back to Dean Winchester's.

"You are leaving?" He asked, because if Dean was leaving then he had no reason to stay, he could indeed follow him outside and do what needed to be done and go home. Still he didn't make any effort to stand up off the stool because Dean was now looking at him in a way he was having immense trouble reading, in fact he was simply put, failing at reading it at all. He had never been good at human facial expressions or anything involving human emotions, because simply he had never been allowed to experience them himself, angels were not allowed to feel or think, or doubt.

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

Dean had to grin at the poor guy's expression. He looked like a doe caught in the glare of headlights, bewildered and harmless. He nodded his head to the door, trying to encourage the stranger to go with him before they caught any more attention. He couldn't help it, he had been taught by his father that the most important part of his job was saving people, and hunting things was the second most important. People came first, and this stranger was no different.

His hand gripped the tan fabric of the man's trenchcoat, and his jaw clenched. So much for the man being a stranger who didn't belong in a hunter's bar - he knew who Dean was! The Winchesters were infamous among hunters and the supernatural set. Dean was pretty sure that before monsters went out to cause mayhem, their mamas warned them to be careful not to end up on a Winchester's radar. They were lethal, and extremely good at what they did. Still, nothing about blue eyes here remotely suggested that he was a hunter himself. Maybe he was FBI, or law enforcement? Either way, Dean wasn't about to confirm his identity.

His smile vanished, replaced with a slightly more grim expression. "Okay ... Why don't we head outside, and you tell me what brought you here?" he suggested, and his hand fell to his hip, checking his gun was safely tucked under his waistband, ready in case he needed it. "And this is a hunter's bar, buddy. You're about as much a hunter as I am a fairy princess, and you've wandered into dangerous territory."

His brow furrowed as he considered the man's latest question. "I will if you will?" he suggested, and stepped away from the stranger, heading for the door. If his hand gripped his knife as he walked, it was pure instinct. Knife was quieter, and a gunshot would draw unwanted attention. For now, he wanted to find out what this dude was up to, and why he knew his name. As soon as he stepped outside, he turned, ready to face the stranger.

[CASTIEL]

Castiel was confused but when the man's demeanor changed, not even Castiel could miss the way the humans face closed off and his body tensed. Clearly he had done something wrong that had put him on edge, but as he thought over the conversation he couldn't work out what. He really was bad with human interaction. Perhaps he would need to ask Balthazar to give him some lessons, his brother seemed so comfortable with humans.

"I am aware this is a hunters bar Dean, that is why you are hear, and you are why I am here." He informed him, there was no cause for deceit and Castiel only lied when directly ordered to do so.

He stood then, because if Dean was leaving then so was he, after all it was not like he had wished to enter the bar in the first place, he was not comfortable in such situations, still the mission had called for it, so he had done what needed, he always did what was needed of him.

"Very well" He agreed with a sharp nod and followed behind Dean Winchester, through the door where he almost smacked directly into Dean's chest, he stopped a couple of inches from the man and stood there blinking, wondering why on earth he had stopped and turned so suddenly that Castiel had not had time to prepare his reaction. Had he been human he was sure he'd have run into the man.

"Did you need to go back in side?" He asked as he tipped his head and stared at Dean again, the man simply stared back, it was strange, most humans couldn't handle the way Castiel stared, they looked away or got twitchy and nervous, though maybe humans weren't like that anymore, it had been a very long time since he last talked to one face to face.

Or maybe it was just this human, Dean Winchester, whom he didn't make nervous?

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

Dean glanced heavenward, as if he was begging for patience. Clearly, this stranger had no idea just how much danger he was in from a bar full of hunters, or he was insane. Either way, Dean couldn't bring himself to let anything happen to him, no matter how gormless he seemed to be. "Yeah, yeah, outdoors, buddy!" he asserted. Discussing what he meant could wait until there wasn't a bar full of wary hunters eavesdropping on every word.

Now they were outdoors, he took a proper look at the trenchoat wearing stranger. Shorter than Dean, but not by much, insanely blue eyes with an intensity he didn't think he had ever seen in another's gaze. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling like his mouth had gone dry. Had he been the sort to do so, Dean would have blushed at how close the man was. He took a step back, and muttered, "Personal space, dude!"

He didn't look away, however. He kept eye contact with the man, unphased by the apparent staring. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, one clutching a small bottle of holy water, and the other clutching his bowie knife. If this was about to turn into some sort of fight, he'd be ready.

"Okay," he began. "You clearly know who I am, and you said you're here for me. So what's the deal? Did Dad send you? Is he okay?" He was probably giving the stranger a perfect opportunity to pretend that was why he was here, at John's request, but he didn't care. He was so worried about his father that he was willing to believe he sent a strange, solemn man in a trenchcoat to fill him in.

[CASTIEL]

Castiel watched Dean step back and he ducked his head for a moment before also stepping back and frowning, he had messed up yet again in his interaction with humans. "Sorry" he muttered as he connected his eyes with Dean Winchesters again and then shook his head.

"I do not know your father Dean" It wasn't a complete lie, when Uriel had ordered Castiel to smite the Winchester he had made sure the angel knew it was not Sam Winchester or John Winchester who had to die, it was this one in front of him, Dean Winchester whom had to leave this earth. Though Castiel was truly trying to work out why, the human had not done anything to suggest he deserved his death in the short time Castiel had been here with him. It was not his place to judge however, that was for his father to do.

"I am here because god wishes it" He continues, "He has plans for you," also not a lie, his father did wish him to be there or he would not have been ordered to do it, and he did have plans for the human, regardless of the shortness of the plans. Why he hadn't already reached out and smote Dean though, the angel couldn't tell you, he told himself it was that they were still too close to the bar for his liking, he knew it wasn't true though, he could easily kill the man silently and be gone before anyone heard the body hit the ground.

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

Strangely enough, the second he heard the man apologise, Dean felt like he had just kicked a puppy. What was with that hangdog expression? And what was worse, why was he finding it so damn hard to tear his eyes away from those intense baby blues?

Dean groaned. Great, so this was some religious weirdo! Perfect, a religion freak with a view to save his soul. Perfect! Try doing a good deed, end up with a Mormon in a trenchcoat talking to him about god. Just his luck, really. Even despite his initial frustration, Dean couldn't help but feel an odd shiver when he was told God had plans for him. It was bullcrap, right? He was pretty sure God existed, seeing as exorcisms and holy water were so effective against demons, but he didn't talk to people and send them looking for Winchesters.

"God wishes it?" he echoed. "Who are you? Seriously, if my dad didn't send you, but you knew my name and where to find me, you're clearly not the idiot I took you for." He couldn't help but grin, and added, "Well, I might still take you for an idiot, depending on what you say next."

[CASTIEL]

Castiel continued to stare at Dean, his expression taking on a confused, concerned and studying look while he tried to read the man, clearly the idea that his father had plans for him had effected the man. Castiel just wasn't sure how. He would say if he had to that the man didn't believe, but at the same time, there seemed to be something almost... hopefully in his eyes and if that didn't tear at Castiel's doubt over his current orders he didn't know what would do it. He could sense nothing in Dean that was evil, or against god, in fact he felt a good deal of kindness from Dean, though not much more than that, Dean hid himself well it would seem.

"I am Castiel, and yes Dean, God wishes it, why is that so hard for you to believe?"

He blinked at Dean confused, "I am not an idiot" He stated, because it was simply true, he was not offended, nor was he shamed by the comment, simply he thought Dean mistaken in his judgment of him and wished to correct it.

*Now will you come with me?" he asked, deciding that moving away from the road house was the best option for what was to come, could he lead this lamb to the slaughter? Some how he doubted it, Dean Winchester was too good of a hunter to allow such things, just the way the other hunters looked at the man and the way he held himself told Castiel how competent he must be.

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

"Castiel, huh? What kinda name is that? You like Prince, only going by one name?" he asked, chuckling. "Lemme guess, next year, you'll just be going by a symbol, right?" Something told him pop culture references and jokes would just fly right over Castiel's head, but Dean wouldn't be Dean if he wasn't making wisecracks.

He met Castiel's eyes for a few moments, grinning, until he realised that no, this dude was actually serious. Holy shit, this was a new one. "Okay, well, last I heard, God's got a plan for everyone, but it usually doesn't involve sending strangers with big blue eyes into bars looking for them," he scoffed.

This guy didn't seem like a preacher, which was odd. He seemed to think that just by telling Dean something, he'd believe it. Winchesters funded their hunting by credit card fraud and hustling pool, and a good portion of his job required lying convincingly to people. The weirdest thing about all this was ... this guy was telling the truth. Correction, this guy believed he was telling the truth. Dean didn't spend so long mastering the art of deception only to fall for a lie told to his face.

"If you know who I am, you should know I'm not dumb enough to go to some unknown destination with a complete stranger, even if he tells me it's on God's command. Where the hell do you want me to go, and why? Getting tired of the run around, Castiel."

[CASTIEL]

Castiel frowned and then sighed, he would simply have to do this here, and clean up any mess that it caused, he hoped it would be minimal. However he thought the man at least deserved to know what was going to happen to him and who it was who had ordered his death.

"I am an angel of the lord Dean, and I have been sent here on my fathers orders to smite you down in holy righteousness." He didn't continue, couldn't because that was quite literally all he knew, in fact he didn't actually even know that it had been his father who ordered it, he knew Uriel had ordered him to do it, who he had gotten his orders from Castiel knew not. He simply had faith that it had come down from his father.

"I am truly sorry Dean Winchester, you seem like a nice person, but my father does not have people smote for no reason, your death must be going to serve a bigger purpose."

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

Dean's eyes widened, and he said in a harsh whisper, "Get the hell out of here! There's no such thing!"

He had only ever seen the cruel side of the supernatural, the creatures that hurt and maimed and killed and even ate humans. There was nothing good in the supernatural, not in his experience, and angels couldn't be true. If angels existed, why was so much bad shit happening, and why didn't they stop the demon that killed his mother? That was it, that was his proof - angels couldn't be real, because they would have protected his mom.

He realised then exactly what had followd Castiel's revelation that he was an angel, and suddenly he was on more familiar turf. This was hardly the first time someone had tried to kill him, but it was definitely the first time it had been preceded with an apology.

"Well, Castiel, I'm sorry about this, because you seem like a nice guy, even if you are a bit deluded." He hefted his bowie knife, and drove it into the supposed angel's heart, embedding the weapon to its hilt. There was no way anything could survive that, human or not.

[CASTIEL]

Castiel didn't react when Dean stabbed his vessel, simply continued to stare at the man sadly, till he realised Dean wasn't going to remove his knife and so he looked down, reached up a hand and firmly wrapped it around the hilt of the knife, slowly pulling it out while his eyes returned to Dean's, dropping the knife once it was out, the wound already healed, though he didn't bother repairing his clothes right now, he had more pressing matters.

"That's your problem Dean, you have no faith" His eyes study Dean almost reverently, while he briefly wonders what it would be like, having free will, would he still have faith if he had a choice? These thoughts are dangerous territory so he turned his mind back to the matter at hand.

"Please, don't make this any harder than it has to be, I promise it won't hurt" As he was saying it, he brought his hand up, ready to smite the man down and return home, yet again however, something in Dean, something that felt very much like the man's soul seemed to be begging Castiel not to in a way Castiel didn't understand and hadn't known humans were capable of.

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

His father had always complained that Dean was the worst mark he had ever trained with a weapon, but after twenty years of training, Dean knew when he hit something, and he knew when he got the heart. He definitely got Castiel's heart! That's why it didn't make a lick of sense when he calmly removed the bowie knife and dropped it to the ground like Dean had done nothing worse than spray him with a water pistol.

His green eyes widened in terror. Nothing should have survived a blow like that! He backed away, and pulled out his gun. "Now hold up, buddy, stay the hell away from me!" he said, a ragged edge of panic to his voice. He may have been holding his gun, ready to shoot, but his hands were trembling just enough to piss himself off. There was only one possible explanation for how Castiel had survived that knife wound, and that was simply that he was what he claimed to be - an angel of the lord!

"No!" he yelped, and jumped backwards out of reach. There was something more terrifying about Castiel's hand than there ever had been about a vampire's teeth, or full moon when hunting a werewolf. Some instinctive part of Dean was screaming at him to just run, screw fighting him, and just run, but another part told him that if Castiel could survive a fatal stabbing, what was to stop him simply chasing him down?

"I don't care if it'll hurt or not, you're not killing me! I need to find my dad, and I need to tell Sammy that dad's missing! You can't kill me, Cas, I've got people counting on me!"