Dean doesn't check his phone for a few days, and he's shocked to see it's not yet dead. He has almost 50 missed calls, all of which are from the same number. Dean may not have it memorized, but he vaguely recognizes it as Castiel's number. Well, isn't that a nice surprise?

Should he expect another call soon? Looking at the times, they've been getting less and less frequent. For all he knows, Castiel may have given up by now. It's certainly been a while since he heard anything. Dean would have given up, too.

Even if he does call, though, would he want to answer it? He may be in the middle of the forest right now — which probably won't have very good reception, now that he thinks about it — but he's sure they could still track him down here. Just because he doesn't want to cut his leg off anyone doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt. Getting out of here would be a pain in the ass — or, more literally, a pain in the shoulder and leg.

But it's Castiel, so it's worth it.

Dean looks at his phone for a few moments, then calls him back. He's not sure what phone this is, and for all he knows, he's going straight to Michael Novak instead. But if it's not Castiel, he'll just hang up and wait for him to call back.

"Agent Castiel Novak."

Dean doesn't move for a moment. This is what he wanted. He wanted to talk to Cas. It was supposed to cheer him up a little. But he doesn't know what to say. He can't do anything. His leg and shoulder are still throbbing just sitting here. He can't go kill someone. The game's over, or paused at the least. He doesn't even know why he called.

"Hey, hang on," Castiel says quickly. "It's you. You called me this time."

Dean can hear him keep talking, but he isn't listening. He has no idea what he wanted to accomplish, calling him. Now he needs to leave, and he definitely can't travel as quickly with a hurt leg as he could before.

He turns the phone off and pulls the battery out, but he doesn't break it, just in case. He shoves it in his pocket and begins his painful trek through the woods. When he finds his way back to society, the first thing he's doing is buying some new clothes, so he doesn't attract any weird looks from his bloodied flannels and jeans. Then it's time to catch a bus out of town, and pray he didn't fuck this up too badly.