The Angel Seed

Tell Me Everything

Dean propped the basket on the hook, the next morning, after he was done doing his work and instantly sat down on the hay stack without any hesitation whatsoever. Castiel reached down picking up the basket, legs dangling over the ledge in comfort as he put the basket beside him and pulled out the milk first. Dean stared. Papers in hand, pencil in one hand, paper in the other as he used his knee as a desk. Taking down notes of Castiel, he takes observations of approaching him. Almost like it was his own little social experiment.

Dean's hands slowly fell as he looked to the door. Castiel looked up at Dean, following his eyes he looked outside too but saw nothing to would seem to catch his eyes.

"How'd you get here?" Dean asked so suddenly but lightly, it almost made Castiel fall off the ledge. "Why are you still here? You don't have to stay here, you know." Turning his head, his eyes greeted with Dean's staring ones and he just had to look away. He spoke again. "Do you have an owner? Who are they?" He kept asking questions, and Castiel seemed to sink away hiding from the questions he didn't want to answers, words he didn't want to say. Dean tilted his head. "Can you speak?" He asked.

Castiel pulled back, one leg going up then the other slowly. He felt uncomfortable, he didn't like it... being asked all these questions. Looking down, averting his eyes, and turning his body he set off the warning alerts quickly. Dean leaned back, putting some distance even if it was the tiniest bit between them. "What's your name?" He questioned, "Do you have one?" This time lighter, less rushed, voice lowering and fighting. Castiel didn't answer. Didn't know how to, didn't want to, he couldn't. Dean stared to the frustrated and silent angel and nodded, standing up he took it as a note that he went too far with it. Taking his papers and pencil, he headed for the door.

"Castiel."

Dean turned in the doorway to the angel who had spoken, "What?"

Castiel's eyes fell down again, "Castiel." He mumbled lowly again, "My name."

"Castiel." Dean smiled to the final name of his stranger. "Castiel, Why are you alone? Why are you here? ­­ Where's your owner?"

He sunk to sadness, "My owner is dead." He mumbled, pulling his arms around himself as if he were holding himself against the wing. Wings pulling closer to himself, Dean watching. "In the storm, I was lost. I found this building."

There was a moment of silence. "Why are you staying here? In the barn?" He pointed behind him, "The house is big enough. You could live inside. There's enough room for you, no one would bother you, you could have my room." Castiel began pulling back physically and socially.

"You could have my room and you could walk around in the morning before anyone is awake and after everyones asleep.

You could stay there instead." Dean said positively.

"I don't want to go in there." Castiel spit, "I wont."

Dean sighed, taking back his motivation. He glanced to the house then to Castiel, "Fine, but its just an offer. If you want to go into the house and stay there, then you can but," he put pressure on his words, "If you stay in the barn you cant let anyone see you because they might ­­ hurt you." Castiel stared at Dean. Hurt him? Hunt him? Kill... him? Most likely.

"I'll be back when everyone's asleep, if you want to stay here, stay here. If you want to come with me," he paused knowing that Castiel knew the rest. He grabbed the door and looked back to Castiel. Wide wings, messy hair, blue eyes, confused look. It was almost impossible not to stare. Closing the door he would then keep his promise that he would come back that night and ask Castiel again. It was a risky promise, but one thing was for sure ­­ Dean would only be more dangered... by being attached.