righthemisphere | Deer Country IC Inbox

Raleigh's brows pin high on his forehead as he processes that.

"Cas..." Why does that sound familiar?

"Wait- that guy on the network talking about orgies?"

He laughs, but it lacks humor.

"Yeah. That's the one. He's not that guy anymore, though. He's changed, like me. He's an Angel of the Lord," he says, tone dropping to mimic Cas' low tenor.

"Which means he's too good for me."

...

Squint.

"Like. Literally?"

He takes the joint back and takes a big inhale, holding it until he coughs it out.

"Yeah. Crazy, right?"

"An angel. Like.." He mimes flappy wings.

"Halo.. up in heaven. An angel.

Edited 2021-11-12 02:02 (UTC)

He looks over at Raleigh lazily though lidded eyes.

"Yeah. Literally that."

"What the fuck," he whispers. Give him that joint back. He needs it. Just that is a lot to handle.

Inhale. Hold it. Exhale. Fuck. An angel.

"That's a lot."

Go on, take it.

"Demons are real, too," he adds, reaching for his beer in the meantime. "So is Lucifer. God, however, is MIA."

"Your world must be wild."

Which is all he can really think to say as the high curls around his swiss cheese brain.

“Yeah…it is.”

Especially before, when he was him, and it was terrible and sad. But there’s been the good, the passion and love that came out of it, now evaporated like dewdrops on a desert plant.

There is a soft beat.

"So when you say he left you.."

Because also huuuuh whazzut? Man, his gaydar must be broken because he really didn't take Dean for the type. Then again, no one takes him for the type either and here he is at his one year anniversary with the love of his life, so.

“I mean he said there was no longer a reason To stay at the house and he fluttered off. He left me.”

He exhales long and slow, his chest aching from the cough and something else entirely.

He. Still isn't sure in what capacity Dean means.

"Were you.." he itches the tip of his nose.

"Together(??) long?"

He sighs. Hes high, who cares. Raleigh loves with some Australian bear.

“Long enough for it to matter, for it to hurt.”

A soft hum. That's awful.

Raleigh still isn't sure if they're talking about the same thing but being left behind always hurts no matter what.

He decides to take a gamble.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out between you.. but he's wrong. If he thinks he's too good for you."

“Oh no, he’s definitely right. I’m a train wreck and he's…an Angel crammed into a human vessel. He’s way too good for me.”

He takes a swig of his beer.

“He just.. didn’t have to leave it like this.”

What? He almost says. No. You're.. loyal. And funny and strong. It's his loss.

But he isn't sure if Dean would want to hear that.

Raleigh can't imagine what the dynamic between a human and an angel might be. How would that even work, really. It's such a big difference in so many ways. Even if he's having a hard time thinking of that guy he saw as an angel. He hasn't seen Castiel otherwise. He doesn't know.

"So you fixed the timeline and he bounced. That's an ungrateful dick move."

"Less of a fix, I guess. We were an alternate one, created to prove a point. Makes a guy feel awesome." He takes another swig of beer, though the bottle is nearly empty.

"Cas and I just shifted back to the original one, I guess. Our spell got messed up, and here we are. He's..."

Dean struggles to find the words, because he's angry at Cas yes, he's hurt, but he doesn't hate him. How could he?

"He's an angel. He's just different, now. There's this wall up between us."

"Oh.."

He tries not to kneejerk something even more judgmental (again) to piss all over this guy who Dean is so hurt by. If it's complicated then it's complicated.

He can respect that. Try at least.

Raleigh is quiet for a moment as he thinks, brain softened and swirley released from topical anxiety.

"Sorry," he says. Delayed response.

"That was catty." It's not like him, really. Maybe an influence from Chuck. Maybe from being in this world for so long.

He reaches for the joint to take another long pull and hold it before he passes it back over, relaxing (slumping) in his chair, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Nah...it's okay. I've called him a dick before. It's nothing new."

Raleigh takes it back, watching the cherry at the end smolder away.

Fuck he's high. but let him get this straight. Sam is a dick. Cas is a dick. Dean, himself, is kind of a dick and Raleigh can't make a judgment on the little one but he's a Sam too so maybe also a dick.

"Don't take this the wrong way? But I think you might need to get some better friends, man."

"God...yeah...maybe."

He groans, rubbing at his eyes and stretching in the chair, relaxed more now than he's been in a while. The weed, likely, but not being at Raleigh's throat is nice, too. He doesn't regret what he did, he'd do it again, but at this juncture, holding the grudge is stupid.

There's too much else going on in Dean's life to hang onto that rage, and besides that's...not really him anymore, is it? He's not nearly as angry, not nearly as obsessed, just...tired. Resigned. Home isn't where he wants to be because here, at least he has his brothers - fourteen years old and soulless notwithstanding. Cas may want to go home and fix heaven, but Dean doesn't want to. Lisa's great, but she isn't Sam.

"Never really had many friends."

"No," Raleigh murmurs softly. It's a pleasant day. A red, autumn afternoon with crisp air and magic all around. Three of his chickens are clucking across the way, scratching for bugs or gossiping or whatever it is chickens do for fun.

He envies them in a way. Life must be so blissfully ignorant and simple. But actually? He's got it pretty good for once. How the hell that happened is beyond him but he sure is grateful.

"No, me either," voice slow and purring as he works his words out. He doesn't do this much so a little goes a long way.

"We moved around too much when I was a kid and then our world went to war with monsters so there wasn't much time."

It was just him and Yancy, one of many parallels he knows they share. But he won't talk about his brother too much if Dean is fighting with his. Why rub salt in the wound.

It's a quaint atmosphere; Dean can appreciate the aesthetics. His cabin is full of volatility right now, and frankly, he doesn't really want to be there. The bed is empty and cold, Sammy can tell something is up and Sam is an asshole.

He hasn't heard from Wanda in a while, but he guesses that's on him. He hasn't exactly reached out either, but he hasn't wanted to, what with everything going on.

It's hard to explain, so he'd rather just...not.

"Sounds like how we grew up. Always a different hotel, a different evil sonuvabitch to hunt. An endless...cycle of obsessed bullshit."

Raleigh is nosey but it's just curiousity. He doesn't feel like Dean owes him the intimate details so if hediesnt want to share then that's on him. Keep your secrets, Gandalf.

"Sounds like bullshit," he agrees with a slow nod and sips his beer.

"Never asked for it, that's for sure."

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