—Day 127—
“Lydia and Brad,” Joseph announces upon entering the cabin, glaring at Dean—currently blinking at him from the refrigerator—before dropping heavily onto an armchair with a despairing sigh. “You’re welcome. Hi, Cas.”
“Good evening, Joseph,” he answers, adding the last report on his right to the stack on his left with a sense of triumph. “We have successfully entered the twentieth century; all historical reports are now in digital format and everyone has been issued jump drives to turn in their future reports. At least until I better understand how to build a LAN, which involves cables, routers, and electricity, none of which we have in excess—or at all—and therefore it must wait.”
He doesn’t need to see Joseph and Dean exchanging a look to know they’re doing it; they do that a great deal.
“Joe Beer, Joe?” Dean calls from the kitchen, followed by the sound of rummaging and the refrigerator door closing. “So how did—” His voice cuts off abruptly for the unmistakable sound of a very enthusiastic sneeze.
In the ensuing silence, Castiel is aware he and Joseph are both staring worriedly toward the kitchen when Dean appears holding three bottles with an expression that bodes ill for anyone who comments.
But that’s never stopped him before. “Dean—”
“Dust,” Dean says shortly, stalking across the small living room and shoving a beer into Joseph’s hand before balancing one precariously on the stack of reports that Castiel just barely catches before it can spill (possibly onto his keyboard) and dropping onto the couch behind him and taking a long drink. “My nose tickled, that’s all. I’m fine. Joe, how was the run?”
“Fine,” Joseph answers immediately. “Marked the fridge and freezer for the mess at the warehouse, but we’re gonna need to bulldoze the road; couldn’t even get the jeep closer than a quarter mile, no way are we getting a truck. I may need Ana, by the way; the loading zone out back is a mess, and the building’s got some structural damage that’s gonna make it hard to get the units out.”
Dean raises both eyebrows. “So you want to blow up the building?”
“Just the back,” Joseph answers dismissively, waving his free hand. “Ana knows her explosives; I’m pretty sure she can get us an opening without bringing down the entire building. Lydia took pics of everything and Mike recorded our in and out and the back from pretty much every angle; can you take it with you to Ichabod next week, let Ana look it over and see if it’s worth taking her for an in-person check?”
Dean nods, and from the corner of his eye, Castiel sees him swipe his nose surreptitiously. He doesn’t think he’s imagining it looks rather red, but he tries to believe it anyway. “So, you’re sure about Lydia and Brad? You got time until your next border run.”
Joseph makes a face, slumping in his chair, but he smiles faintly. “They’re good. Except they can’t cook, but can’t have everything—”
“There’s beef stew on the stove,” Castiel says, saving his work and backing it up on a separate drive—Alison recommended this very strongly—before closing the laptop. “It’s compliant with all kosher restrictions, and there’s a container for you to take the rest home with you as well as the recipe. The mess staff made bread this morning, so there’s some already cut within the breadbox.”
“Bless you,” Joseph says, getting to his feet to investigate. “Two days on MREs, my boots were looking good.”
“Why’d you decide against Lee?” Dean asks when Joseph returns, sitting across from Castiel at the now-cleared coffee table. “I thought you liked him.”
“I do,” Joseph answers, taking an enormous bite and looking gratifyingly pleased with the results. “Thought about it, figured you might like him better. Cas, this is incredible.”
Dean’s grunts were equally enthusiastic. “Thank you.”
“I might like him better?” Dean asks, leaning forward and waiting impatiently for Joseph to swallow. “Why?”
“Just a thought.” Tearing a slice of bread in half, Joseph shrugs. “I talked to him about his out of camp missions when we were looking for the Colt, got a feel for him. Figured I’d be losing him pretty soon when you were ready to add another team, so why risk it?”
Castiel reviews what he knows of Lee; thirty-six, African-American, male, adequate shot, extremely attractive, very enjoyable as a sex partner, the latter he assumes Dean has no need of for a professional assessment. “He’s seen more of the infected zone than anyone in the camp.”
“He was in Lincoln when Nebraska was zoned,” Joseph says. “Made friends there, too, don’t ask me how, he wouldn’t say, but I’m pretty sure he did something stupid and heroic, he’s the type. Pretty sure he keeps up with some former contacts in the Dakotas, though you didn’t hear it from me, as I don’t talk about what people ask me to check on when I go to the border.” He gives Dean a syrupy smile. “My leader said something about privacy, it was weird.”
“Funny.” Sitting back, Dean sips from his beer. “Cas?”
“He’s always worked alone.” Lee is also solitary and somewhat taciturn, but if he’s formed relationships with contacts outside the camp, then he should be able to adapt. Everyone should have the opportunity to learn new things. “Jane would be an excellent choice for his team.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “Tell me there’s a reason for that other than to make Sid feel inadequate, though I’m okay with that as one of ‘em.”
“Jane’s a better shot than Lee—he’s proficient, but his depth perception is lacking—and they have compatible personalities. Brian and Evan as well, I suppose, unless you have any candidates.” He looks back to see Dean smothering what isn’t a yawn if the muffled sound is any indication and wonders if he can convince himself he didn’t see that.
“Uh, just gonna say this,” Joseph says, spoon halted mid-air. “By compatible, you mean…”
“Jane’s not loathe to speak her mind,” he answers truthfully. “Lee’s used to working alone, and he’ll need to learn to think in terms of his team as well as accept their input. I can’t think of anyone else in this camp who won’t be somewhat intimidated by someone who’s six three and doesn’t like to talk.”
Dean blinks slowly. “They’ll fight. That’s the dynamic we’re going for here?”
“Jane doesn’t fight with anyone,” Joseph states. “She doesn’t get mad, either. She tells you you’re wrong, how you’re wrong, and doesn’t even gloat when she’s right. It’s fucking annoying. Like Sarah, if Sarah wasn’t a robot.”
“Sarah’s simply reserved.” Joseph’s characterization isn’t entirely inaccurate, however. He’s long suspected Sarah doesn’t so much as experience emotions as observe them from a safe distance with a vague sense of interest in their existence. “Jane isn’t volatile, which Lee will appreciate; she’s friendly but very calm, and she’ll make Lee listen to her without taking it personally if he doesn’t.”
“She takes nothing personally,” Joseph confirms through a mouthful of stew, swallowing hastily. “It’s very ‘I understand you have feelings and you should express them but let me explain again how you’re wrong really reasonably when you’re done expressing them, I don’t hold it against you.’ She can do that. And mean it.”
Dean smirks. “Nicest breakup of your life, I’m guessing?”
Joseph sighs, cheeks faintly pink. “My ex-wife and I took six months to finally call it quits with a therapist in on the action; Jane took ten minutes to tell me how much she appreciated our time together, a list of reasons why we weren’t compatible, that she understood if we couldn’t be friends during the adjustment period but we would be again soon and she looked forward to it, walked me home, and gave me a hug. Ten minutes, Dean.”
“Was she right?”
“All of it,” Joseph says glumly, wiping up the remaining stew with his bread and stuffing it in his mouth for pensive chewing before he brightens. “Of course, there’s an exception to every rule, but as long as Lee doesn’t cheat on his non-existent SO with her, should be fine.” He smiles at Dean maliciously. “That, she takes personally.”
“Fuck. You.” Finishing his bottle, Dean gets up, collecting Joseph’s plate and empty bottle on the way to the kitchen. “Joe, you want another one?”
“One,” Joseph confirms. “Someone left a note at my cabin, wants to talk about something, and I’m guessing from the handwriting they’ll need liquid fortification, so I’m gonna need to pace myself.” Taking the bottle from Dean, he studies it far more intently than brown glass could possibly warrant. “You know, since Kamal got sent to Ichabod, cabin’s been kind of empty—lonely. I could use a roommate.”
Castiel can feel Dean looking at him. “Sean spoke to me yesterday morning, but I was waiting for you to return for confirmation. Consider everything approved.”
“And?” Dean blows out an annoyed breath, which Castiel tries and fails not to think sounds slightly congested. “Okay, wanna catch me up?”
“Just several requests for changes in living arrangements that required—a logistical approach,” he answers carefully. “Kat and Andy have requested the next available cabin for themselves, as there aren’t any that are even marginally livable among those unoccupied. Kim, who is currently living alone, as her roommates are in Ichabod, doesn’t like the solitude and is willing to take Kat’s place with Mel and Sarah, who have already agreed to the change. It will be accomplished after the new year, I think, if the calendar is correct, as it was recommended to Andy and Kat to wait a month to assure their feelings are—whatever feelings lead to successful cohabitation.”
“My recommendation,” Joseph admits, taking a drink.
“And…”
“With Jeremy out of the camp and Andy moving in with Kat, Robert asked Zack if he’d like to move in with him,” Castiel says as casually as he can. “Logistics were complicated, as I said, and due to—the amount of logistics—moving Zack will be accomplished possibly before dawn, as why wait?”
“That sentence didn’t even try to make sense.” Dean tips his head back, thinking. “Short version: Zack’s tired of Nate’s bullshit, time for a change?”
“Oh, I wish,” Joseph mutters, looking at Castiel significantly before sinking back on the floor with a frown. “Shortest version you didn’t hear from me; right now, he’s tired of it, and I say, strike while the iron is hot. Once it’s done, it’s done, Zack may or may not notice an upgrade in his mental health—hint, he will—and Nate, as it were, will be free of the temptation of mansex since Zack’s literally the only person in this camp who will put up with evangelism the next dawn. I don’t care how good Nate is, it can’t be worth that.”
“It’s not.” Dean blinks at him slowly as he takes a sip from his bottle. “It’s very funny, however, but I think you had to be at Nicea to understand why. I can easily understand why others wouldn’t find it as humorous.”
Dean nods. “Right. They’re on the same team. That gonna be a problem?”
“As teammates, they’re fine,” Joseph answers. “It’s everything else that’s a problem. They’re pros, they know how to leave it at home, but it’s hard to do when it’s the same goddamn home.” Finishing his bottle, he reluctantly heaves himself to his feet. “Cas, can I pick up the stew tomorrow? My next stop—kind of gonna be busy tonight, but a lot less drinking, so it evens out.”
“That’s fine. I’ll put it in a container for you.”
“Thanks. Okay, anything else or—”
“Digging,” Dean tells him maliciously. “Fun starts an hour after dawn, so make moving night fast.”
Joseph sighs. “Sounds great. Night.”
Almost as soon as the door closes, Dean makes another not-a-yawn sound, and Castiel fights down alarm.
“I’m gonna go take a hot shower,” Dean says abruptly, voice thicker than it was earlier. “Wind today—you know. Lie down for a little while. It was a long day.”
“Excellent idea,” he answers hopefully. “Someone should be arriving from Ichabod with Amanda’s weekly reports, but unless there’s something you need to know, I can handle it.”
“Awesome.” Dean sniffs moistly and, looking alarm, retreats to the bedroom, and Castiel decides to pretend this isn’t happening for as long as humanly possible.