《Self, Published》Chapter 10
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Charlie shoved Castiel's office door open and darted in, a tablet in her hand. "It dropped!"
Castiel startled and then sighed. "The knock is a lost art form," he muttered.
"Not like you're going to be in here doing anything weird, Novak…"
Castiel thought of the hours he had spent over the past few weeks researching the Bible Belt and social attitudes in Kansas and narrowed his eyes at her.
Ignoring his glare, she trotted around to stand beside him and watched as he opened his web browser and pulled up Dean Winchester's page on Facebook. He found the new video and took a moment to restart it and unmute.
Dean appeared on screen in the dark brown, cowboy-esque hat he had been wearing in his last photo, a leather jacket the color of carob open to show a shirt with an embroidered collar underneath. Behind him were several trees, their branches laden with coppery dried leaves. His breath fogged slightly when he spoke, eyes slightly to the left, looking out into the distance, reminiscent of his old author photograph in Salvation Ridge.
"Hi, everyone… I have a bit of an announcement today, and it's probably going to come as a shock to a lot of you. I'm just going to get right to it…" He turned then to look directly at the camera. "I am bisexual. I have been since I was a kid. It's not anything new; I just never told anyone." Dean shifted, glancing down and then back up. "You can probably guess why. Professional hunting wasn't exactly the right crowd for that sort of thing, back when I was into big game, especially out here where I tend to work. Even five, ten years ago, the laws in Kansas weren't exactly friendly toward LGBTQ+ people. Always seemed to be more reasons not to tell people than there were to be honest. …But the older I get, the more I realize that a man needs to walk his own path. Now they call it 'being authentic', but it's just a fancy way of saying that you oughta face the world head on."
Castiel noticed how thick his accent was, wondered if that was intentional or if it was happening because Dean was feeling vulnerable.
"Even though I'm more into conservation and acting as a hiking guide these days, I'm sure some people are going to stop doing business with me. I'll probably get some nasty comments on here—maybe even in real life—from people who don't have anything better to do than lash out at other people. But I'm coming out anyway because I don't think anyone else should have to spend half their life hiding who they are just to get by. I'm just a guy trying to work and live a good life, like anyone else. I'm no different than the man you knew yesterday, besides being a little more truthful.
"So, if you're out there thinking you don't want anything to do with me anymore, well, good riddance. If you're out there thinking you don't give a damn, well, that's fine, I guess. But if you're out there thinking you don't fit or you can't do some job because of who you are, I'm here to say 'you do' and 'you can'.
"We don't have much say over who our parents are, how tall we'll get, what color skin we're born with… or who we love, but we can choose to be good people, every day. We can choose to be loyal, to be compassionate, to be kind… and to be honest. So… I'm Dean Winchester. Hunter, hiker, writer… and bisexual." Dean nodded at the camera. "Nice to meet ya."
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Castiel paused the video before it could loop, letting out a slow breath, thinking. The cool, late autumn sun on Dean's face in the final frame brightened his green eyes and showed every freckle in sharp contrast. He looked… determined.
"Let the shitshow begin," Charlie intoned.
Castiel was certain she was quoting Dean's phrasing. "Did you prepare him?"
"Oh yeah. We talked multiple times about how we're going to handle the trolls. He made me a moderator on his page, and I will be bringing down the Great Hammer of Community Standards on some heads. The rule is, 'Do not engage. Report and delete.'"
Castiel scowled. Anything Charlie didn't get to first, Dean would read. "Maybe he should stay offline for a while…?"
"I tried to tell him that, but he just said he might as well start facing it online before he got it in real life." Charlie's lips twisted, showing a flash of her teeth. "I will be on this, promise."
"If you want assistance, please, let me know," Castiel told her. "People are often worse on the internet."
"Dude, I live on the internet. I know this."
Castiel nodded. He knew she knew, but that didn't mean he would stop worrying. "Maybe I should call Dean later…"
"I think that is an excellent idea. Distract him. Please?" Charlie nibbled her lip. "Okay, I've gotta get back, but…" She pointed at the computer. "Stay out of the comments section, okay?"
After Charlie skittered out, Castiel resolutely closed the window so he wouldn't be tempted to read anything. He'd been following along with Charlie and Dean's planning, and he knew that they were going to follow up with textual post announcements later in the week, depending how the video did. The timing was deliberate—at the end of bird migration season, when Dean's guide business was tapering off for the season. Dean had run the speech draft by him via email, although he hadn't recited it word for word on camera.
Watching him speak was still somewhat surreal. He almost couldn't believe he knew this man, had stood face to face with him not a month before. When Dean visited the office, Castiel had been… awkward. Charlie assured him that Dean didn't notice, but Castiel knew he stared far too much, spoke far too little. He grew so frustrated by his inability to carry on a conversation that, at one point in the afternoon, he basically ran away to hide in his office. Dean had to be the prettiest person Castiel had ever met, and every time those green eyes landed on him, Castiel had no idea what to even say. Which was ridiculous, because they had spoken over the phone more than Castiel had done with anyone outside his own mother—and that was only because she'd known Castiel for quite a few decades longer.
Castiel's worry that the end of their editing work would mean the end of Dean's calls and texts—he told himself over and over after Dean's visit that he should expect the friendship to fade—proved ill founded. Dean continued reaching out, asking about some of the books Castiel had edited in the past, getting reading recommendations, chronicling his hikes. Castiel was certain now that Dean's friendship extended beyond their business relationship, which was why he was going to do whatever he could to offer support as Dean went public and recreated himself.
Castiel sighed, set his shoulders, and brought back up the futuristic detective novel he'd been reading through before Charlie interrupted. He couldn't do anything now… or could he? He froze, hands over the keyboard. What had Charlie said? Distract him?
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Castiel pulled out his phone and hit Dean's contact name before he overthought it. It rang a few times, and Castiel wondered if Dean was going to let it go to voicemail. Then, the call connected.
"Hey, Cas. What's up?" Dean sounded more awake than usual, perhaps because he usually called Castiel late at night.
"Are you at your computer?"
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
"Is Sam at home with you?"
"No, man, he's at work."
"Leave your computer, and go outside."
"…What?"
"Charlie stopped by to let me know that you posted your video announcement, and I don't think you should sit there staring at it alone. So, shut it down, and go outside." Castiel listened for a moment but didn't hear any motion on Dean's end. "I am serious, Dean."
After a pause, Dean sighed and started moving.
"Thank you," Castiel said.
"…You do realize I could be carrying it around, right?"
"Please, don't do that."
"I won't. Just sayin'… So what am I supposed to do once I'm out here?" There was the sound of wind in the background.
"Assuming you bothered to dress appropriately for the weather? Start walking."
"Geez, bossy…" Dean muttered. "Pretty sure I can't just walk until everyone on Facebook has seen the video."
"It's only necessary to get away for long enough to break the loop."
"The loop?"
Castiel shook his head; of course Dean wouldn't know that term. "Um, when the mind keeps cycling on something. It happens to me more frequently than I care to admit. I've developed strategies for breaking out of it over the years."
"Ok, so shoot."
Shoot what? Oh. "Well, you can process your concerns aloud."
"Pass."
Castiel blinked at the flat dismissal. "Realistically, I could probably deduce many of them," he pointed out, "but if you are uncomfortable with that, next on the list would be distraction."
"...Like walking?"
"That was simply to ensure you weren't looking at your computer, and you can't look at the app when you're on the phone with me—"
"—Unless I put you on speaker phone."
"Please don't."
There was a hiss on the line as Dean exhaled through his teeth.
"No, the distraction has to be mental, so… " Castiel thought back to how easily Charlie had been able to draw Dean into conversation and wished he had that skill. Dean seemed interested in popular scifi and fantasy, so maybe… "Who is your favorite Marvel movie character?"
"Um… Hawkeye."
"Why?"
"I dunno… because he isn't overpowered or lab created… He's just there, running with the big dogs, trying not to get killed. Like, he knows he's completely outclassed half the time, and he doesn't give a damn. He'll still shoot your ass with an arrow. God. Alien. Whoever."
"A fair assessment… Who is Sam's favorite?"
"Oh, Iron Man. Absolutely. All that cool tech and sarcasm…"
Another Avenger without super powers, Castiel thought. There was some significance to that; he tucked it away to think on more later. Dean's voice rising in a query brought his attention back to the conversation, and he mentally rewound to figure out what the question had been. "Hmm… Carol Danvers."
"Captain Marvel? Okay… why?"
"She can soar through outer space under her own power and shoot photon blasts out of her hands… She knows who she is and what's important to her."
"Well, after the brainwashing wore off…"
Dean tried to segue into talking about the Marvel spin off series, but Castiel hadn't even seen all the movies yet, nevermind streaming series. "You know, I used to pride myself on avoiding movie franchises… and then Charlie got a hold of me."
"I knew I liked that girl."
Castiel turned the conversation to science fiction novels, where he at least had a foothold. His knowledge base turned out to be only a fraction of Dean's, to his surprise. "Ender's Game," Castiel offered, when Dean asked him about his most memorable read.
"Oof, hard to compete with that… I dunno, I tend to remember the random stuff. Like… The Hitchhiker's Guide series, Alan Dean Foster's Quozl, Vonnegut's Slapstick—interesting book, terrible movie adaptation. If we're saying the more serious stuff… Dune. No, wait, Brave New World. Or, if we're going newer… Jurassic Park. Anything Gaiman. Or, ooo, An Unkindness of Ghosts."
"...I don't remember that last one."
"Rivers Solomon. Uh, generation ship like a plantation. Good stuff."
"You seem very passionate about science fiction, Dean. …Can I ask why you didn't write in that genre?"
Dean let out a short laugh. "I… can write what I can see, if you get that. Like, ask me to write a story set in a world someone else spun up already, sure. But I could never build like some of these authors build. Mythology and technology and every-other-ology… Besides, you think I've read a lot of scifi, I've read even more survival and disaster fiction. God, Jack London? I devoured his stuff when I was a kid. Island of the Blue Dolphins, Swiss Family Robinson, My Side of the Mountain, Hatchet… I think my parents were probably lucky I didn't run off into the woods and try to build my own tree house. Jurassic Park is sorta a crossover, for scifi, and for horror crossover, King's The Stand. New stuff? The Hunger Games series. Ah, well, that one's scifi too, I guess… Life of Pi. All That Remains. Ah, there's so many more, but I'd have to think on it a while…"
Castiel listened to Dean gush, a warm glow alighting in his chest, but there was an ache there as well. Castiel wished he could see Dean's face, see what real joy looked like on those perfect features. Because this, he felt certain, was getting closer to the truth of Dean Winchester.
He kept Dean talking, branching out into different book genres. When Gabriel walked through the door of his office, Castiel guiltily realized he'd been on the phone with Dean for over an hour. He tried to bring their conversation to a close without making it sound as though he was dismissing Dean, all while Gabriel leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, a thoughtful frown on his face.
Dean caught on and gave him an out. "Well, I'll let you get back to work…"
"Yes, as much as I would rather discuss novels with you all afternoon, I have to work on editing the next generation of them…" Castiel wanted badly to say he'd call Dean later, but Gabriel's eyes were fixed on him. Castiel squinted at his cousin, trying to let him know that he didn't appreciate the eavesdropping. Gabriel's lips slipped into a smug smile; he shifted his weight to slump more fully against the wall.
"Thanks for the 'loop breaking', Cas."
"Stay away from Facebook, and let Charlie work." Castiel hung up, not willing to say more in front of his audience. "Hello, Gabriel." He put the phone down on the desk with a sharp clack.
"Helloooo, Cassie." His cousin pushed himself up off the wall and approached the desk. Instead of taking the chair, he circled slightly to Castiel's left, hands behind his back. "Was that Dean Winchester?"
"Yes, he made his first coming out announcement today."
Gabriel nodded. "Charlie let me know. This is good… There's a lot of competition in the next quarter, and I probably wasn't going to be able to get much from the corporate level on release support. Now, we can try to pull his book into the Pride releases next year, get a bit more marketing out of it." Gabriel's eyes jumped to Castiel, then away to the wall again, and he swayed in place.
"Was there something you needed, Gabriel…?"
"You've been talking a lot with Dean lately, huh?"
Castiel, already suspicious, stared at his cousin, trying to read beneath Gabriel's carefully maintained expression. "Yes. We have a good working relationship, and you asked that I act as a main contact for him."
"Before this, I would have described you and Windsor as having a 'good working relationship'," Gabriel observed, referring to a mystery series author Castiel had edited half a dozen books for, "but I think you've talked to Dean more over the phone than every other author combined at this point. And you got this book completely reworked in record time." Gabriel turned to regard Castiel directly with the steady, unreadable stare Castiel thought of as his battle mask, raising an eyebrow.
Castiel wasn't sure where the conversation was going, and he didn't bother to guess. "What is your point, Gabriel?"
"…The phone calls, the extra effort to get this project taken on, the way you talk about his writing…" Both Gabriel's eyebrows were raised at this point in expectation.
Castiel slid from suspicion into confusion; he had no idea what Gabriel wanted from him.
Gabriel sighed, shook his head, and rolled his eyes, then tried again. "The texting back and forth… the random facts about Kansas and wolverines! I know you, Castiel. You might as well slap up a billboard. Rowena said you could barely take your eyes off him while he was here."
Finally, Castiel realized what Gabriel was trying to say, and he frowned. "There is nothing inappropriate going on. Dean is a client—and a friend. Nothing more."
"That wasn't where I was going with that—I know being unprofessional isn't in your vocabulary—but if you believe there's 'nothing more' going on there, you're kidding yourself. You've got one big, Cassie-style, infatuation-bordering-on-obsession crush going on."
Castiel tensed, a rush of heat climbing up his neck. The assertion wasn't exactly a revelation—he was far too self conscious for that—but the fact that other people were noticing came as an unpleasant shock. "Th—that is not something I can control," he stammered, "but I assure you, it will not affect my work on this project."
"That's not the point!" Gabriel let out a sound of pained annoyance, waving both hands. "The point is… I haven't seen you this wound up on someone since we were kids. And, bisexual or not, Dean Winchester is some backwoods hiking, gun wielding, country boy from halfway across the country." Castiel inhaled and fixed Gabriel with a glare. Just as he opened his mouth to make a retort, Gabriel put up his hands. "I just don't want you to get hurt," he insisted.
Castiel sighed, face fixed in displeasure. He was well aware how different the lives he and Dean led were, and also very conscious that, at least in level of attractiveness, Dean was very much out of his league. Adding in the difficulties asexual individuals like himself often faced trying to negotiate relationships with allosexual people… He knew nothing could come of his 'crush'. He was resigned to supporting Dean from afar, watching the man grow, learning all he could about him, until this feeling, however many years it might last, faded. That didn't mean he liked being reminded about it. "I know, Gabriel. I won't."
His cousin looked entirely unconvinced, mouth flattening into a pensive pout, but he nodded anyway. "All right. Sorry, but I had to say it."
"Did you?" Castiel asked, letting his expression go flat.
Gabriel shot him an annoyed look. "Just watching out for you, cuz…"
That would be more reassuring if Castiel weren't forty-two. He made a clear move to divert the conversation elsewhere. "While we're on the topic, how is your own love life, Gabriel? Is there anyone special you would like to discuss? Perhaps I could suggest some effective techniques for building a deeper connection with them."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, lifted his hands up in front of himself again. "Okay, I'm leaving."
After he exited, Castiel picked up his phone and opened his messages.
2:51 PM
Really, Charlie? You ratted me out to Gabriel?
He waited, knowing her phone was almost always on hand, then watched the typing animation go on for a comparatively long interval.
Charlie - 2:53 PM
OK, in my defense, he ambushed me. He had Battle Look on! I didn't say much, just that you'd been txting Dean a lot, and then Rowena totally started going on about how you had a major crush. I couldn't think of a way to cover for you fast enough. :( Sorry
BTW, not to change the subject way too obviously, but do you think something is going on with him and Rowena? Like GOING ON going on?
Castiel's annoyance went up in smoke as his thoughts completely derailed to playback every interaction between the two as of late. Rowena he didn't know that well, but Gabriel… He considered the way Gabriel always let her precede him into the room, held the door for her. Did he normally do that? What about the annoyed looks that had flashed across his face when she was discussing how attractive Dean was? He remembered in one meeting how Gabriel had leaned over to look at some reports, placed the back of his hand on her chair…
He groaned aloud, wincing and typing back to her, furious.
2:55 PM
I wish you had not asked me that. Now I won't be able to stop thinking about it during meetings.
Charlie - 2:55 PM
SHARE MY PAIN NOVAK 😖
Castiel put down his phone to rub at his temples. Now he needed to break out of his own loop. He pulled up the detective novel he was supposed to have worked on today, hoping for distraction.
Neither Gabriel's warning nor the knowledge that most of the team was aware of his increasing fascination with their author stopped Castiel from calling Dean back that evening. In fact, he kept even closer contact with Dean as the man went through official written announcements on all his social media platforms. Reactions to his coming out were better than Castiel had feared, but there were plenty of derisive or rude comments that both Charlie and Dean worked to clean up. It was difficult for Castiel to think of Dean having to read them. Despite how Dean shrugged them off as cranks or sad souls looking for attention… words could hurt. Castiel never stopped offering to listen if Dean wished to discuss it, but there were some things Dean still couldn't talk to him about, it seemed. So instead, they exchanged thoughts on books and podcasts, and Castiel listened curiously as Dean recounted the many places he had traveled around the country.
Winter wore on, and the holidays approached. Castiel described to Dean the glitz of the holiday season in New York City. Dean told him about nearly losing the road in a blizzard and tossing out suet, seed, and pellets for birds and deer. Even though the weather was cold and bleak, Dean was still taking guide jobs now and then and seemed to spend time outdoors for the love of it. He took to texting Castiel photos. The pictures were never of himself—he only posted selfies on his social media because Rowena and Charlie kept pestering him. Instead, Castiel got a selection of things he supposed must have caught Dean's attention. Deer tracks in the snow, ice-coated berries gleaming in the waning sun, a pale pink sunrise, a pond covered in jagged and cracked ice…
December brought a final title to Dean's manuscript—North Aspect—and its cover design, a tower of dark rock and blue-tinged snowpack with a gloomy evergreen forest suffused with mist at its base. It was stark and somewhat sinister, and might have been a nonfiction work except for the style of the artwork and the serifed font of the title near the treeline, a mixture of thick and thin straight lines and perfectly round curves, washed out and set so that the line with Aspect sat slightly forward and to the left of North above. Castiel wasn't sure how it worked its magic, but looking at the cover, he knew the book wasn't a mountaineering tale but something more emotive. Elysium also set the release date, Gabriel selling his plan for a bevy of Pride releases by LGBTQ+ authors to management. They went out for drinks to celebrate, at a bar a little more to Gabriel and Rowena's style. Castiel quietly sipped a Whiskey Highball, smiled along with Gabriel at Charlie and Rowena's bantering, and resolutely did not wonder about the way Gabriel's eyes drifted along Rowena's face with noticeable frequency.
On the way home, Kevin nodded at Charlie gravely and said, "Oh yeah."
"See?!" she yelled with exuberance spawned from two stiff Tequila Sunrises and shot out a fist to smack Castiel's shoulder.
About a week before Christmas, Castiel checked a message notification from Dean to find a picture of a small, brown, ranch-style house bedecked with multicolored Christmas bulbs along its eaves and door frame. A tall, solidly built man dressed in a puffy blue winter coat with thick waves of brown hair poking out from under a black knit hat grinned at the camera, hands in his pockets, dark eyes radiating joy. It took Castiel only a moment of looking at the face, the chin and the dimples, to realize it must be Dean's younger brother, Sam. A followup text stating, Sam made me decorate, confirmed it.
When Christmas Eve found Castiel at the Shurley family party, struggling to make small talk and feeling alone in a crowd like he always did at gatherings, he found a moment of relief when his phone vibrated. Dean's simple, Merry Christmas, Cas, left a warmth that buoyed him until it was late enough to politely exit the celebration. New Year's Eve was more difficult. All the chaos at public celebrations made it impossible for him to enjoy going out, and nobody had invited him to a smaller gathering that year. Ten o'clock found him in his apartment, listening to a miniaturized crowd call out from Times Square via his laptop. His eyes drifted to his messaging app several times before he finally opened his chat with Dean and sent a message.
10:05 PM
What does one do in Kansas for New Year's Eve?
After several minutes, he didn't see any indication of a response, so he set the phone aside and tried to pick back up his book. When the midnight countdown finally rolled past, he watched three thousands pounds of confetti rain down upon the mass of humanity gathered in the streets mere miles away, feeling disconnected, outside the world. A few minutes later, his phone began chiming with notifications, chasing away his melancholy with New Year's wishes from friends and acquaintances alike, and he went to bed reassured, able to bear the one text conversation that remained silent.
A reply arrived late the following morning, as Castiel was looking over an article an associate had sent him for review.
Dean Winchester - 11:29 AM
You up for a call?
He confirmed and answered the phone on the first ring. "Happy New Year, Dean."
"Happy New Year, Cas." Dean's voice was rougher than usual. "Sorry I didn't get back to you last night. Winchester brothers' tradition is that Sam drags me out to a bar. There was a lot of booze, a lot of… people."
"I suppose that answers my question then."
"New York was on TV there. You go to Times Square?"
"I live in downtown Manhattan, within a few miles of Times Square, and there isn't any amount of money that could induce me to go down there on New Year's Eve."
Dean let out a laugh. "Noted. What'd you do then?"
"Chinese food and a good book."
"Sounds nice."
"Was the bar nice?"
"...Better than being alone, I guess." There was a pause, and Castiel heard the sound of a mug being set down. "So, got any big New Year's resolutions?"
"It's not a habit I ever got into. One need not wait until the beginning of the year to make a resolution."
"True… I guess people just use it as a good enough point to take a look at where they're at, where they want to be…"
"Did you make any resolutions, Dean?"
"Yeah. I decided I should never drink that much ever again. Until next year. …Uh, finish drafting my next book. …Also, I'm gonna go to Sequoia National Park this year. Always been on the list, just one I haven't gotten to yet."
Towering redwoods came to mind as Castiel placed the name. "I imagine that it would be incredibly humbling, to stand beneath trees thousands of years old…"
"You ever think of traveling? You seem to like hearing about all my trips."
"I—" Castiel considered how to phrase it. "I suffer from travel anxiety. Not about going to a new place, necessarily, but rather the actual logistics of getting there. It's difficult for me to enjoy the journey; I get too wrapped up in organizing the itinerary."
"Tell you what, you tell me where you want to go and when, I'll do the driving."
Castiel frowned at the wall, trying to determine if Dean's offer was serious. It didn't seem like something he would say out of politeness.
"I mean it," Dean added, as though reading Castiel's silence. "One of the few things I'm good at is traveling."
"You mean outside hiking, tracking, marksmanship, photography, and writing?" Castiel contended.
Dean grunted, then ignored his statement. "Think about taking a vacation this year. That can be your New Year's resolution. You should get out and see some of these places for yourself. Stories and pictures just don't compare."
After he hung up with Dean, Castiel spent quite a while truly considering where he would want to go, if he didn't have to worry about getting there. It didn't occur to him until later that day that he'd be there with Dean, seeing in person those things Dean found meaningful in nature instead of catching glimpses in images sent over the phone. He knew then exactly where he would want to be.
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