Sorry the slightly longer wait for this chapter haha, I'm doing a film making work shop and spent all of yesterday (that's a lie, It was actually a week ago that now that I wrote that) writing the script for the short movie we'll be filming. That'll be going on all week, plus homework and finals looming on the horizon updates won't be quite as quick as the first four chapters were, but I will try to get them done as quickly as possible. Thanks so much for the reviews on this! Same warnings as always please enjoy! Also, special thanks to fromidam for offering to beta (and doing a fantabulous job I might add)!

Chapter Five – She Went the Same Way

It had been two weeks since Castiel had arrived at the farm, and Dean was finally getting used to sitting across from him at dinner every evening instead of Sam. Castiel was different from his brother; shorter for one, but also a lot quieter, and he had more of an interest in the horses (even if he was hopeless with them – the other day Dean had watched their new stable hand be pushed into a water trough by an overly-affectionate mare). There were similarities, though: they were both nerds. Castiel seemed more attached to books than laptops, but Dean didn't see that as much of a difference since they were both always reading something. Dean wondered if they would've gotten along.

Castiel was getting better at stable chores at least, though Dean was pretty sure the other hands had been helping him out a bit. But the work was getting done, which meant Dean could get in more practice with Cyrus. There were three more weeks until Blackridge Classic – it wasn't a huge show, but it would be nice to get back into competing after a few months off. A lot of people from the barn would be going: boarders, a few of the lesson kids, and the riders that his dad hired would have a mount or two too. His dad was having him bring a couple of the horses he exercised, Pretty Boy and Larken, as well as Cyrus. The two horses, a stallion and a gelding, needed more show experience before they were shown in the Grand Prix. His dad always hired riders to take the horses in the big classes, even if Dean argued it would be less expensive if he just let him take them. John wouldn't have it though.

Dean looked over at Castiel, who sat at the end of the couch with his nose practically pressed into a book. It was nine o'clock, and for once he wasn't going to have to wake up before dawn – he had finally convinced his dad to have one of the workers take the morning feeding a few times a week. He was trying to decide if he wanted extra sleep or a trip to the bar when the phone rang. Castiel was closer.

"Hello?" Castiel said into the phone as Dean watched. "Yes, yes, he is here," Castiel said, looking up at Dean. "It's for you." Dean nodded, getting up to take the phone from Castiel.

"Hello?"

"Dean, it's Sam." Dean's eyebrows raised and Castiel looked up at him questioningly, but Dean brushed him off and walked out into the hallway.

"Sam, it's...It's been a while since you called."

"Yeah, sorry about that, I've been busy with classes and...stuff," Sam said, and Dean couldn't help but smile as he leaned back against the wall. He knew that voice.

"There's a girl isn't there?" Sam didn't respond. "Oh come on Sammy! She hot?"

"Her name's Jess," Sam said quietly.

"So you hittin – "

"Dean." He cut him off, and Dean chuckled, "I don't…I don't know if it's anything. So who was that that answered the phone?"

"The new stable hand."

"What's he doing in the house at nine at night?"

"He uh, he lives here. In your room."

"Dad sure doesn't take his time moving on huh?" Sam laughed bitterly.

"Sam…" Dean started.

"No, it's nothing. So what's his name?"

"Castiel. Castiel Novak," Dean replied, glancing out into the living room where said man was engrossed in his book again, lines creasing his forehead as if he were frowning at something in his book.

"Religious family?"

"How'd you know that?" Dean asked, looking away from Castiel.

"I'm in a theology class, angel of Thursday right?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, wondering why he was even surprised his brother knew that.

"So…is Dad home?" Sam seemed almost hesitant to ask.

"No, he's meeting with a potential business partner; he'll be in Chicago for another week."

Castiel sighed, leaning his pitchfork against the wall. He was finally done. It had been raining a lot the past few days so more horses had stayed in overnight. The stalls had been dirtier than normal and his chores had taken twice as long, but at least most of the horses he had had to groom hadn't been muddy like the ones that were out in the pasture.

"Castiel!" a voice called from the end of the barn and he looked up to see Garth walking towards him, a grin on his face. "Me and Jo are going out for a drink, you want to join us?"

"I don't really –"

"Oh come on, it'll be fun," Garth said, grabbing Castiel by the arm and dragging him out of the barn. Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but changed his mind. He found it could be difficult to say no to Garth at times. He was very…enthusiastic.

On the way to the parking lot they passed the arena, where Dean was in the midst of riding Cyrus, cantering easily along the rail. Over dinner he often talked about training and how there was a competition coming up soon. They made eye contact for a moment, and Castiel hoped he would pull Cyrus up and say he needed his help with something, but he kept going. He could've sworn Dean was smirking at his current situation, but Garth had pulled him farther along and he couldn't see Dean anymore. Castiel was shoved into the back seat of Garth's old Ranchero, Jo smiling at him from the passenger's seat. The old thing groaned to a start, and Garth put his arm around the back of the seat as he threw it into reverse.

It usually took thirty minutes to get into town with Dean, but as they creaked to a halt at yet another stop sign a little over halfway there it had already been half an hour. It was very dark in the countryside, he found. After spending most of his life in the city he still found it weird that it could be so dark out, even just after sunset. At home the sky would glow orange around the edges, lit by the light from street lamps, stores, bill boards, and the windows of countless apartments and high-rises. Here you could see the stars – not much else, but you could see stars.

"You're a much more cautious driver than Dean," Castiel commented, watching the distant lights of farm houses as they passed.

"Dean's kind of a maniac," Jo laughed from the front seat.

"Yeah, I would trust him with a lot of things, but not my car," Garth said, patting the wheel.

"Do you remember that one time –" Jo started, her words garbled as she held back laughter. Castiel started to tune out the conversation again. He wondered how his brothers were doing; Gabriel in particular. It had been years since he had seen him, his brother having come to visit halfway through freshman year. Gabriel had said that he was moving to California, needing to get away from the family for a while, and he would call. Castiel hadn't heard from him since.

It wasn't too much longer, despite Garth's slow driving, before they reached the bar. The three of them got out of the car and walked through the door. Or rather, Castiel and Jo walked while Garth moved with an odd bounce in his step, a smile on his face as he hummed the theme to a sit-com Castiel had seen once or twice upon Gabriel's insistence. Jo and Castiel sat and it wasn't long before Garth came to the table, hands wrapped around the necks of three beer bottles. He set them on the table, and sat before popping one open for himself. Jo glanced at him.

"Garth, you should really eat something with carbs before you start drinking," she said, a concerned frown pulling at her lips.

"Nah, I'll be fine," he said, waving off her comment. "So, Castiel, where you from?" Garth asked, taking a sip.

"Fort Worth."

"Fort Worth? You came all the way here from Fort Worth to work in a stable? Weren't there any there?" Jo raised her eyebrows.

"I needed a…change of scenery."

"So military family?" Garth asked.

"My brothers are soldiers, yes. I uh, I tried; I wasn't very good, I left. I went to college; after I graduated I stayed with them only briefly a few months ago before coming here."

Garth nodded and took another sip of his beer, motioning for Castiel to open his. A few drinks later and Jo's laughter came a bit too easily, and Garth was completely wasted; Castiel, however, only felt a slight buzz. The world was a bit fuzzier, a sensation he wasn't very fond of, but other than that he didn't feel too adversely affected.

"This guy, hic, can really, hic -" Garth's words were barely intelligible between the slur and hiccups. "Hold his liquor," Garth managed to finish and Castiel looked down at the bottle he held.

"This is Sampson's Pale Ale. We aren't drinking liquor," Castiel said and Garth began to laugh hysterically. Castiel glanced at the table, not certain how that was funny. "So, Jo. Your mother owns the feed store right? Do you plan on taking that over? Dean has expressed that he would like to run Winchester Stables eventually."

"No. No, I want to be like my dad."

"Your father? What does he do?"

"Did," she corrected. "He uh, he was an equestrian, there was a bad accident when I was nine…he passed away."

"I'm very sorry for you loss," Castiel said sincerely.

"No, don't be, it was years ago. I've had time to adjust…You know, it was Dean who got my mom to let me ride at all. A few years ago he finally convinced her. I've picked it up quickly, guess I got it from my dad," she said with a soft laugh, taking a sip, "You know it's a miracle that John let his boys ride at all, even if he won't let Dean go to the Grand Prix."

"Why is that?" Castiel asked, brow furrowed.

"Their mom…she went the same way as my dad did. Had a real bad accident at a show, her horse lived, but they say she was dead when she hit the ground," Jo said quietly. Castiel frowned. He hadn't known. John had never mentioned a wife, nor Dean his mother. He had seen pictures on the mantel of a pretty young woman, but he'd never really questioned who she was. They sat in silence for a while, occasionally broken by Garth laughing to himself.

"What about you Garth, do you have any plans for the future?" Castiel asked.

"I'm…I'm…hic…in communnitity college, I'm going to go to university next year," Garth slurred. "I'm gonna be a child therapist," he stated proudly. Castiel was mildly surprised; Garth had always seemed a little, well, daft.

"Him and that ridiculous puppet," Jo scoffed.

"Mr. Fizzles is a reliable and professional colleague."

"It's a sock Garth."

"We're going to, hic, live in Miami, on a houseboat, giving therapy to children!" Garth slammed his bottle against the table.

Castiel looked at Jo. "He really is very drunk," Castiel said, glancing at the man who was now swaying noticeably in his seat. Jo laughed.

"Yeah, but that's actually what he wants to do, I've heard him say it sober."

They continued to drink for a while before Jo's phone rang, her mother needing her help with something. She left and Castiel and Garth stayed, talking as they drank. Well, Garth slurred unintelligible sentences as Castiel nodded.

"Ya know? Maybe she was right," Garth stumbled over his words. "I should've ordered something with carbs." Castiel just nodded, only half listening. "Nachos, we should get nachos!" Garth said as if he had had a revelation, sitting up tall as he yelled out, "Frank! Frank! We want some nachos!"

"I'm going to go use the bathroom," Castiel said, standing.

"Better hurry up man or you won't get any nachos." Castiel just nodded, walking off to find the restroom.

When Castiel returned he couldn't find Garth. The table was empty; their beers hadn't been touched, but Garth was gone. Frowning, he went to the window and found that the Ranchero was missing as well. The thought occurred to Castiel that Garth might have decided to drive home in his condition. He turned and headed to the bar, and the bartender looked up as he approached.

"Have you seen the man who was at that table, skinny, he wears a baseball cap."

"Garth? Yeah I had Ralph drive him home, he passed out again."

"He was my ride."

"I don't think he was going to be able to drive you anyway pal," the bartender laughed.

"Well I – " Castiel started, but he was cut off.

"There's a phone over there if you have someone you can call."

Castiel nodded thank you and waded through the drunken customers to get to the phone on the opposite side of the bar. It was late and he hated to call anyone at midnight, but he didn't really like the idea of sleeping on a bench somewhere. It was getting colder, and he wasn't wearing very heavy clothes. He dialed the number, and listened to the harsh ringing, twisting his fingers through the plastic-coated wire as he waited. On the sixth ring, Dean picked up.

"Hello?" he said, voice heavy with sleep.

"Dean?"

"Castiel, why the hell are you calling? I've gotta be up early."

"I uh...I need a ride."

"What about Garth and Jo?" Dean was starting to sound irritated.

"They left, Jo walked home, Garth is…indisposed."

"You didn't have a designated driver or anything?" Dean asked and Castiel paused.

"Yes, that would've been a good idea. I will remember for next time," Castiel said, and Dean didn't reply for a while, however he could hear the sound of him groaning as he pulled himself out of bed.

"Where are you?"

"The bar."

"Just…stay there. I'll be there in thirty."

Well I don't think there was really anything in there that needed defining. I hope you all enjoyed, and once again I apologize for the late update. Please review; I will upload the next chapter as soon as possible. Thanks again for reading!