2015.08.14 - Dislocation: Surrealistic Distress Call--Or: Dean, Faith Has Disappeared

*Castiel tells Dean of Faith's disappearance. Dean has a few words for the angel, too.*

August 14, 2015

The Haight, San Francisco

Anyone who knows the Winchesters might assume that Sam would be the one most at-home in a place like Haight, but actually -- maybe surprisingly -- it's pretty much Dean. Even though the place has changed a good bit over the years, free love and subculture, or at least this kind of subculture, are right up Dean's alley. So the ghosts of the hippie days, the counterculture remnants, the modern-day cash-ins...yeah, he's okay. It's like he's got his bearings here.

He's been around for the better part of the late afternoon into the evening, and by the time night's hit, he's firmly in the "bars and clubs" section, which is really like being in his element, but also in his element in that element.

As Dean is enjoying a fruity drink with a curly straw and umbrella--it's not even what he ordered, but apparently it's someone's birthday, and they bought *the whole place* drinks--when Castiel is suddenly sitting at the bar beside him. He turns to Dean, looking somewhat more weary and scruffy than usual, and says, "...Dean."

Dean doesn't care! It's booze and it's free, he's secure enough in his masculinity to enjoy a fruity drink with crazy straw and umbrella! Or maybe he buys his own macho delusion. Potato, potahto. "Wuhhh!" Though he's not as ready for Castiel to just appear. At first he just stares, then he looks hurriedly around himself. Did anybody else see that? Is anyone freaked out? No, just him.

"What's up?" He's clearly a bit...conflicted? Things have happened since last time.

Castiel is, as usual, oblivious to the social context. "Dean--" he begins, then pauses, noticing the drink. "That... is a very festive beverage." Then, as if remembering why he came, he says, "Dean, Faith's been taken. I can't find her... anywhere."

"What?" That's enough to make Dean snap to. He knows Faith. He's had drinks with her! I mean, if you can't depend on drinking buddies, who can you? And there's Cas commenting on his own drink, which makes him smile just a little. He catches the barkeep going down the other way. "Hey, my pal was in the bathroom here...can he get one'a these?" Which of course he can. He turns his extra charm off once they're alone, inasmuch as they can be in a crowded bar, again. "Talk to me."

The bartender pours another drink from the giant pitcher, adding a straw, an umbrella, and *two* cherries with a lime twist, then hands ti to Castiel, who nods uncertainly. "Er. Thank you." Looking back to Dean, the angel explains, "All I know is that she was in Beacon Hills investigating the lead I gave you all... but then she suddenly vanished, and now I can't sense her."

"Beacon Hills? The hell is that?" Dean sips through his crazy loopy straw, which is kind of a comical dissonance given his serious expression and tone. Business. All business. Now that Cas has his own drink, they can pretend to be normal while they talk about friends who fight vampires that just disappeared. And one of them is an angel.

"Beacon Hills is a city north of here," Castiel explains grimly. "Faith had gone there to make contact with the local werewolf pack, which is reportedly friendly and does not harm humans." Or, at least, that's the official story. He leans in hesitantly to sip the beverage, then sits up sharply. "Oh my. That is... tart."

"So...they got her?" Dean frowns, taking another sip of his own. He looks so serious for a moment, and then when Cas comments on his own drink, he brightens up as if the two elements of their conversation are completely separated by some sort of vast wall. "Right? Pretty good though, huh? Spirit of the hippie...uh...thing."

"Dean, all I know is that she does not seem to be... dead. Probably," Castiel asserts. "Her soul has not been detected, so it... seems unlikely she is dead." His shoulders sag slightly. He sips more of the drink. "I am... distressed," he attempts. "Concerned."

"Yeah, uh...yeah." Dean sets his glass on the bar, listening and trying to kick his brain into high gear. "Okay. So. We headed up to Beacon Hills? Gimme all the info you got." He leans a little closer, sliding his glass along the surface of the bar, an idle motion. "And we should probably talk. About, uh, last time."

"I..." Castiel says, clearly frustrated, "I have no idea how to proceed, Dean. All I know is that she was investigating Beacon Hills... and now she's gone." He turns aside the straw, taking a large swig of the drink... at least it's sweet. And he looks to Dean. "About last time?"

Dean shrugs his shoulders. "We haul ass to Beacon Hills and take a look around! If she disappeared there, between the two of us we oughta be able to find *something*, *some* clue of where to go next. Right?" Now he's fiddling with the glass, rotating it in place. Something else is on his mind, and he's not exactly at ease discussing what he's brought up. "Uh, yeah. Look, uh...you kinda came at a bad time. Like...really bad time. Bad time to be an angel. Right?"

Castiel frowns. "Dean. You don't owe me any explanation for... anything." His tone is flat, awkward--maybe more so than usual. He stands. "Beacon Hills. Should we be going, then?" Apparently, he's not much more eager to discuss "matters" than Dean is, himself.

"No, man, I really...I really do." Dean's brow flattens, and he finishes off the rest of his drink. He motions to Cas and his glass of tasty tartness. "Drink up. We can uh. We can talk more on the way." It's really not his thing to talk about happenings, especially regrettable ones. That's more Sam's milieu. And apologies? Probably not gonna happen. But Cas can read between the lines if Dean explains a little more of his story, even if Castiel might already know it.

Castiel tips back the glass and finishes the drink, then turns back to Dean. "If you wish to investigate, then... shouldn't we go?" He frowns all over again. "On the way? You... wish to drive there, don't you." Castiel is not generally one for motor vehicles.

"You got a better idea?" Dean dusts his hands on his thighs, despite neither having any indication of needing it, and pushes up to stand and stretch. "We can get there in a couple hours probably. You got some directions?" He gives another glance to the place. Nice place, really. He's going to have to remember to come back to Haight and hang out again sometime.

"We could be there in approximately three seconds," Castiel explains. Then, tilting his head, "Ten if you wish to step outside first." No, he isn't terribly good at doing things "correctly." He's too used to doing things... well... like an angel. "I know exactly where it is, though... I don't know the roads."

"Hey, no!" Dean holds up his hands. "We can't just...zap...there. I gotta have my car. I mean, I don't think that parking lot I used is gonna be okay with me leaving her overnight, and I ain't gonna let anything happen to my baby! I got everything in there. We gotta take the car."

Castiel gives a weary sigh, but he doesn't argue further. "Very well. I suppose time is not precisely of the essence." He gestures to the door. "Lead the way, then," he says grudgingly. "I will... navigate."

Dean seems to find this acceptable, so he leads the way out and down the street. He didn't park close exactly, but then he was spending the whole evening in the Haight anyway, so he figured he'd just find the best (and safest) lot or garage and just hoof it. Nothing is too good for Baby! "Just a couple rules. One: don't touch the stereo. Two: don't make a mess in my car."

Castiel peers at Dean, walking alongside, and says, "That shouldn't be a problem. I do not anticipate leaving... messes... and I am accustomed to living without control of... stereos." He does sound mildly put out about using a car, but... well, he'll adjust.

"Good." Dean sounds almost put out at first, but then he turns to look at Cas, giving him a warm smile. It's charming, really. And very different than the last time they met. Maybe the hippie spirit has worked its way into Dean's guarded heart. Or maybe he's just comparing Castiel to Sammy and finding him a lot more agreeable on the whole regarding ground rules of the car.

Castiel remains silent and his expression grimly unreadable. It's difficult to tell if he's pleased or not, but for much of the walk back... he says nothing. In fact, as they proceed, he grows thoughtfully silent.

Dean finally gets to his car and unlocks the door, giving Castiel a sort of curious look once they're there. "What's up, man? You're too damn quiet." Usually Dean is okay with quiet. He's fine not having to answer questions or talk about anything, least of all his feelings. But this just seems...weird. Unnatural.

"I'm... sorry," Castiel says uncertainly. "It's not my custom to speak without purpose." He pauses, then he seems to come to a conclusion. "Ah! You should leave town and go to Highway 101 and proceed north. That will set us on the correct path."

Dean gives a nod, seemingly satisfied for the moment. He climbs in the car and turns the engine on, patting the dash. He loves to hear Baby purr. Once Cas is buckled in, they're roaring down the road with classic rock blaring on the stereo. It may be nearing the middle of the night -- that's the best time to travel!