#BEDTIME STORY

[aleeyenn]

sunbathing

[lumiolivier]

Treasures and Tragedies

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 7476

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

It's Crocodile's week to have you all to himself. It's getting to the end of the week...and you feel more like it's getting to the end of your life...

You wanted to hide.  It wasn’t often you wanted to hide away from your boys, but today was a day to hide.  You were up in the middle of the night while Crocodile kept an arm around you, making sure his hook was out for the world to see.  Just in case someone were to make their final mistake.  And you knew then something wasn’t right.  Something didn’t feel right.  Any other night, Crocodile would have you drenched in sweat.  The man was a space heater.  Of everyone you slept with on a regular basis, you didn’t need much for blankets with Crocodile.  But that was the thing.  You couldn’t get warm to save your life.

You carefully slipped out of Crocodile’s grasp and made your way toward the bathroom.  If he asked, you got up to pee.  Nothing to bring attention to yourself.  Nothing he would ask questions about.  Everything would be fine.  But when you got to the bathroom, you gripped onto the sink for dear life.  Your short walk from the bed to the bathroom was enough to turn your legs to jelly.  And if that wasn’t enough to turn your already not great stomach, the room decided to start moving on its own, too.  You knew it.  Deep down in your heart, you knew.  You were getting sick.

And in your throat.  And your lungs.  And anything else that decided to reject its existence.  If it could hurt, it did.  And it was utter hell.  But not nearly as much hell as you’d be in if the men in your life were to find out.  As much as it’d suck, you dragged yourself down the hall to your room, leaving Crocodile alone in the bed you both once shared.  That’s when you finally felt safe.  And proceeded to violently throw up in your own bathroom.  After you were done, you violently shook on the cold ceramic.  Your chills made your back tighten up and in that moment, you wished for the sweet release of death.

“I do not envy you…”

You jumped at the unexpected voice floating above you, “Perona, what the hell are you doing in here?”

“You think I didn’t hear you yakking in here?” Perona perched herself on the edge of your bathtub, “How are you sick?  Don’t the boys keep you wickedly healthy?”

“Mostly,” you gently nodded, “But regardless of how great my immune system is, even I can still get sick.”

“Poor baby…” Perona put a hand to your back, “You need to get back to bed?”

“Mmhm…”

“Here,” Perona helped you onto your feet and held you steady while you shuffled back to bed, “You want me to wake Mi-”

“No!” you pleaded, a few coughs escaping your throat, “Perona, no.  Please.  I know your heart is in the right place, but please.  Don’t tell anyone I’m sick.  Don’t tell Mihawk.  Don’t tell Buggy.  Don’t tell Crocodile.  Just keep this between us.  As far as you know, I caught my period before I could stain the sheets, so I just came in here.  All I need is to get some sleep.  The more I can get, the quicker I’ll get better.  I do not need to have the boys hovering over me and treating me like I’m going to break if they look at me cross eyed.  I don’t need that.  Please, Perona, if you love me even a little bit, you’ll keep your mouth shut about me being sick.”

“I won’t say a word,” Perona promised, “But you know how they are with you.  Someone’s bound to find out eventually.  Even when you’re not sick, they’re up your ass in some way.”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, “I know.  But they’re going to have to not be clingy with me today.  Just let me get back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Perona let it go, “Is there anything I can get for you?  Do you need anything?”

“I’ll be alright,” you crawled into your bed and got comfortable.  As much as you could at that point, “But thank you, Perona.  If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright,” Perona left you alone to get your rest. 

And as much as you trusted her, you had a feeling she was going to say something to someone.  To the wrong person.  And you were going to end up having someone on your ass about being sick.  But you shut your eyes and left that to be a problem for future you.  For now, you were going back to sleep.  And praying to all things holy and unholy that once you were awake, you would feel a million times better and this was just a weird dream.

When you started to come to again, you heard assorted chatter at your bedside.  And a cool washcloth on your forehead.  You didn’t remember putting that there last night.  Not when you fell asleep almost immediately after your head hit the pillows.  But you had to retrace your steps.  You had your conversation with Perona.  You felt like you were going to die.  You were miserable and frozen, but you were appropriately wrapped up in blankets.  Nowhere in there did you remember putting anything to your forehead.  Nor do you remember inviting company.

“And she wakes…” The second your eyes opened, you knew you were screwed, “Good morning, Princess.”

“Mmm…” you sunk down into your blanket cocoon, the sun shining far too brightly from the window.

“You don’t ever wake up before I do,” Crocodile’s hook ran down your cheek, “And on the off chance you do, you don’t ever come in here.  Which begs the question…”

“What brought you in here, darling?” Not only were you screwed, but you were double screwed.

“I…” your voice gave you away.  You couldn’t write this off on a period.  That didn’t mean you weren’t going to try, “I got my period last night.  And I came in here.”

“You don’t get your period until the end of my week, doll.” Scratch that.  You were triple screwed.

“So,” Crocodile thought, “Other than that fever of yours, what brings you into your room?”

“I’m not running a fever,” you lied through your teeth, “It’s just freezing in here.”

“No,” Mihawk swapped out your washcloth, “Try again.”

“Alright.” Because you didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore, “I came in here last night.  I threw up a bunch.  I went back to bed.  Happy?”

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Buggy sat on your bed, “No.  Not at all.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, YN?” Crocodile asked, “At the very least, me.  Hell, I was right there.”

“Because I knew this would happen,” you brushed them all off, “Because I knew you three would blow it out of proportion and, cough, cough, I don’t need that.”

“We’ve never blown anything out of proportion when it comes to you, treasure,” Mihawk cradled your cheek in his palm, “And you’re staying right here until you’re better.  If we have to, we’ll be the ones to make sure you get that way.”

“He’s right,” Buggy agreed, “You’re precious to us, too.  You’re falling apart at the seams, doll.  We can take care of you, too.”

And that’s what worried you.  But you’d be lying if you said your boys coming together for your sake didn’t warm your heart a little bit, “Alright.  I’m not going to fight it.  But you three have to make me a promise right here, right now.”

“Anything, Princess,” Crocodile insisted, “What do you need?”

“You don’t hover,” you ordered, “I know you three are going to try and give me the world and it’s only going to wreck yourselves in the process.  It’s not worth it.  Got it?”

The three of them shared a glance that always put a knot in your stomach.  You weren’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but you knew that look.  Deliberation amongst the three of them.  You always thought they could read each other’s minds, but it was scarier yet.  They read each other’s faces.  They could have a full conversation without you hearing a word out of any of their mouths.  But they did eventually come to an agreement.

“Alright, YN,” Mihawk nodded, “Understood.  But we have demands of our own, too.”

“Come on, Mihawk…” you whined, stirring up another bout of coughing, “I’m sick.  Aren’t I the one who gets to be making those demands?”

“In this case, no,” Mihawk put his foot down, “We’re essentially the only doctors you have here, darling.  If there’s anything we decide you need, you’re getting it.  Whether you want it yourself or not.  Can we all agree to that?”

“Mmmm…” you groaned, burying yourself deeper in your blankets.

“Buggy,” Crocodile ordered, “Go call a supply ship and make an order.  You know what we need.”

“On it,” Buggy left a little kiss on your forehead and took off for the office. 

“Mihawk,” Crocodile began his declarations, but he was quickly shut down with one look from Mihawk.  He knew better than to bark orders at Mihawk.  He wasn’t overly thrilled about it, but he understood.  Regardless of the Cross Guild setting up shop here, it was still Mihawk’s house.  Crocodile didn’t respect many people in this world, but he could respect Mihawk, a fellow warlord who more than earned his station.  And if not for that fact, it was because of you.  Seeing the respect and admiration you had for Mihawk made it contagious.  The only thing Crocodile didn’t respect was the furniture.

“You need me for something, Crocodile?” Mihawk asked, not a drop of condescension in his tone.  Because that respect was mutual.  No matter how much they may occasionally bicker.  Besides, that’s what they had Buggy for.  Buggy was where their irritations went. 

“No,” Crocodile shook his head, “We’ll let YN get some more rest.  I’ll take the first shift with her.  Go ahead and do what you need to.  If anything at all.”

“Thank you for your permission,” Mihawk retorted, already on his way out.  But not before leaving you with a soft little kiss on your forehead, “If you need anything, darling, don’t hesitate to ask.  Any of us.”

“Thank you, Mihawk…” you shut your eyes for a moment or two before you were right back to sleep.  But you knew something was going to happen.  There was no way you were going to be left alone for the day.  You weren’t going to get that lucky. 

Still, you felt like you were dying.  So, what if your boys felt like doting on you a little bit?  That was their prerogative.  And even though it got under your skin, it was nice to know someone cared.  It was nice to have several someones care.  And you loved them for it.  And if it wasn’t obvious before, they loved you, too.  More than anything in the world.  And it would show no more than when you were sick.

A little later in the day, when you woke up from your first nap, you felt another wave of nausea hit you.  And it hit hard.  When you opened your eyes, you noticed Crocodile taking a nap in your chair.  A cup of tea sat on your nightstand, but things were about to get messy.  As much as you wanted a drink from that tea (that was likely still a little warm), you went straight to your bathroom and proceeded with another round of violent retching that, much like it had earlier that morning, left you shaking again.

“YN?” And you may have woken up Crocodile in the process, “You ok, Princess?”

“Do I look like I’m ok?” you glared up at him from the floor, your head resting on the toilet seat.

“I asked a question,” Crocodile’s tone shifted, “I didn’t ask for you to snap at me.”

“Crocodile,” you sighed out, “Sweetheart, I love you.  You know I do.  But right now, I am not going to be sunshine and lollipops.  Do forgive me.”

“I know, I know,” Crocodile scooped you up into his arms.  And you reveled in his warmth, his strength.  You wanted nothing more than just a little time with Crocodile.  Just to be close.  If this is what it meant every time you were to go throw up, then so be it.  When he put you back down in your bed, he noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks, “What’s that all about?”

“What?” your voice broke.  Was it because you were just throwing up or was it something else?  You hardly realized you were crying.

“No…” Crocodile sat on your bed and let you curl back up in his arms, “No, no, no…What’s the matter, YN?”

“I don’t know…” you wept.  Even though you were perfectly aware.  You didn’t want Crocodile to go.  You didn’t want him to go back to your chair.  You wanted him right there.  You wanted him to be within arm’s reach.  You wanted him to be around you.  And just the thought of him walking out of the room kicked your tears up even worse.  Which only made your coughing even worse than that.

“Must be your fever,” Crocodile put a hand to your forehead, “Still kind of high.  But I think it’s breaking.  We’ll call that a win.”

“Please,” you clung to him, your tears soaking through his shirt, “Don’t go.  Please…Don’t leave me.”

“Shh…” Crocodile ran his hand through your hair and down your back, “Don’t you worry, Princess.  I’m not going anywhere.  I got you.  But you’re due for another round of medicine soon.  And you know what that means?”

“Hmm?”

“That means I’m going to hand you off to either Buggy or Mihawk,” Crocodile gently broke the news to you, “I’m not saying I’m leaving right now, but someone’s going to have to handle the supply ship when it comes in.”

“But you said I had medicine,” you remembered, “I thought we were out this morning.”

“That was this morning,” Crocodile pointed out, “YN, you’ve been out for a while.  We’ve had a supply ship come in already.  We’re waiting on another one.  There were some things we forgot the first time around.  I’ll take care of that one.  You’ll be alright with someone else.  I’m not sure who won that game of rock, paper, scissors, but you won’t be alone.  I promise.  Ok?”

“Ok.” You loved Buggy.  You loved Mihawk.  But right now, there’s no one you wanted more than Crocodile.

“It’s alright,” Crocodile assured you, “I’ll be back.  And if you need me, all you have to do is yell for me.  Ok?  You know I’ll come running.”

“Thank you,” you nestled your tear stained face into Crocodile’s ribs. 

“Of course, Princess,” Crocodile held you close, “Of course, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“Crocodile,” Mihawk stood in the doorway with a pair of tablets in his hands and a glass of water, “Buggy’s looking for his fishnets, so I have YN’s medicine.  I’ll take the next shift.”

“She’s a little clingy, Mihawk,” Crocodile wasn’t letting you go, “I appreciate you bringing her medicine, but I don’t think she’s going to let me go anywhere.”

“If that’s the case,” Mihawk put your water and medicine down on the nightstand got in your bed on the other side of you, “I guess I’ll just have to be here, too.”

“I got her, Mihawk,” Crocodile kept his arm around you, “Go ahead and do whatever.  I’m sure your protégé is looking for you for yet another futile sparring match.”

“No,” Mihawk pushed your matted hair out of your face, “He left a few days ago.  I’m surprised you didn’t get your own licks in.”

“With the rest of the Straw Hats here?” Crocodile laughed, “No.  I don’t have a death wish.  And I’m sure if I even thought about going near their captain, your son, but not your son would be the first to drive the nail in my coffin.”

“Hey, guys?” you spoke weakly, hoping to break up the potential fight brewing between them, “Can we not talk about dying when I actually feel like I’m dying?  That’d be wonderful.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk left a little kiss on top of your head, “We didn’t upset you, did we?”

“No,” you let a few coughs out, “But I really do feel like shit.  And I’d rather you two didn’t try to kill each other in my bed.”

“Alright,” Crocodile let it go, “But truly, Mihawk, go.  I have her handled.”

“Fine,” Mihawk got up from your bed, “If you need anything, YN, you know where to find me.”

“And I’ll probably send Crocodile to find you,” you giggled a little, “Because there’s no way in hell either one of you are going to let me get up for anything other than the bathroom.  And even that’s iffy.”

“Get some rest, darling,” Mihawk covered you up a little more, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you cracked a little smile and curled back up with Crocodile.  And you shut your eyes again.

But that’s when the medicine kicked in.  And your fever started to take hold of your brain and put it in a paint shaker.  When you shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your brain turned into colors.  Swirling shades of blues and greens and shades of gray only to have them fade into pinks and yellows and all the pretty colors of the sunset.  And you were perfectly content.  Until it turned.

Your beautiful, cold medicine and fever concoction turned violent.  The sunset went away and turned into black and red.  And an empty room with a cold, cement floor and red splatters all over the place.  You looked around the room and found a heavy chain around your wrist.  All while you noticed dead bodies on the floor still twitching.  A voice echoed through the room.  Your fault.  Your fault.  Your fault.  And it only got louder and louder until you finally realized who those bodies were.  And how you were soaked to the bone in blood that was not your own. 

“YN…” you felt your body shake, “YN, wake up…”

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest when your eyes opened back up.  Thankfully, still living and breathing, Crocodile held you tight, doing his best to get you to calm down.  But when you looked up at him, you felt the tears pouring out of your eyes, “Crocodile…You’re ok…”

“Of course, I am, Princess,” Crocodile pinned you to his chest and let you cry it out, “Of course, I am.  I’m not going anywhere.  You know that.  I’ve already shooed off Mihawk and Buggy and Perona today.  I told you before you fell asleep.  I am not going anywhere.  What happened?”

“I…” you wept, “I…I killed you…And Mihawk and Buggy.  Everything was so nice, but then…”

“Shhh…” Crocodile cradled you in his arms, making sure nothing could get to you ever again, “It’s alright, YN.  It’s alright.  It’s all over now.  You just had a little nightmare.  It’s ok.  It’s all done.  I promise.”

“I hate it,” you snarled, “I fucking hate it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Crocodile settled you, “But it’s done now.  You don’t have to think about it anymore.  I know you’d never kill me.  You know you’d never kill me.  It’s ok.  I forgive you.”

“Really…?” your bloodshot eyes looked up at one of the men you loved more than anything and held so dear and most definitely didn’t want dead.

“Really,” Crocodile let you get comfortable in his shoulder, “You know, YN…It’s been a while since I held anyone like this.”

“When was the last time?” you wondered, not really seeing Crocodile as much of the cuddly type.  Except when you were involved.

“If we can keep it between us,” Crocodile began.

“Of course,” you swore.

“I had a baby like this,” Crocodile sighed out, getting lost in a nostalgic haze, “He was sick at the time, too.  His father was out looking for medicine, but there wasn’t much where we were at the time, so he had to go on an honest journey for the sake of finding a doctor who could get us some.  And he cried so much.  He hurt so much.  And of course, he didn’t fully understand what was going on, so that just made it worse.  And there was nothing more I could do.  Broke my heart to hear him scream like that.  But he did get better.”

“What happened to the baby?” you asked, nestling further into Crocodile’s embrace.

“He ended up going to live with his grandfather for a while.  And I didn’t see him for a long time until he popped up in Alabasta.  He doesn’t know how well connected we are, but…” You saw a strange sadness fall over Crocodile’s face.  Only for him to snap back into taking care of you mode, “That was a long time ago.  And nothing you need to worry about.  Just go back to sleep, ok, Princess?  We need to get you better.”

“And I will get better,” you cuddled into him, letting him know that with as much as he’s there for you, you’re there for him, too, “That’s what I got you for.”

“That’s right…” You didn’t know it, but you might have made Crocodile’s day with that statement, “Now, get some sleep or your next round of medicine is going in you as a suppository.”

“So demanding,” you giggled deliriously, “Maybe I want it that way.”

“You are a special kind of freak, YN,” Crocodile hugged you tight, “Just get some sleep.  Ok?”

“Okie dokie…” your delirium took over.  And then, your delirium took you under. 

When you started to come to a little while later, you felt yourself in someone else’s arms.  That was not Crocodile anymore.  And your heart immediately started racing.  Not only were you moved, but Crocodile was no longer there.  You thrashed and freaked until you realized the sound around you.  Splashing.  Water.  Bathroom.  Bathtub?  Bathtub.  Bathroom.  Your bathroom.  The same place you had thrown up earlier that morning.  What were you doing there?

“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk cradled you in his chest, “It’s alright.  We didn’t want you slipping into the water and you had thrown up on yourself earlier.  You’re ok.”

Your heartrate started to settle and you became much more acutely aware of the horrendous taste in your mouth.  It was ok.  Everything was ok.  And yet, you had one question burning in your mind, “Where’s Crocodile?”

“Taking care of your sheets,” Mihawk told you, “I’m hoping this bath breaks your fever a little, too.  It’s almost there.  We just need it to drop another degree or two.”

“Ok…” You weren’t upset to be held by Mihawk.  But you missed Crocodile’s warmth around you.  You missed the softness.  You missed the tender way he held you…

“YN…?” Speak of the devil, Crocodile poked his head into your bathroom, “I thought I heard your voice in here.”

“I’m here…” you replied weakly, “Sorry for throwing up on you.”

“No need for that, Princess,” Crocodile brushed it off, “You didn’t even throw up on me.  Your bedding can’t say the same, but it’ll be alright.  That can be washed.  You can be washed.  And I’m sure Mihawk’s more than accommodated you in that respect.  Hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he has,” Mihawk nodded, “And everything has been entirely pure and innocent, Crocodile.  I’m not breaking any rules here.  She’s sick.  We’re taking care of her.”

“Everyone except Buggy,” Crocodile pointed out.

“Where is Buggy?” you wondered.

“I’m surprised he was with you as long as he was this morning,” Crocodile admitted, “The guy’s got a thing about germs and getting sick.  It’s the performer in him.”

“I think that’s the first time you called him a performer,” you giggled, letting a few coughs out, “instead of a narcissist.”

“Is he not a little full of himself?” Mihawk scoffed, “Come on, YN.  You know him, too.”

“Just a little,” you shut your eyes again, “But that’s ok.  I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

“Really?” Mihawk looked at you like you were on drugs.  But in your defense, you kind of were.

“Mmhm…”

“You’re delirious, Princess,” Crocodile got a towel for you and scooped you out of the water, “Come here.  Let’s get you back to bed.  As much as I love seeing you hot, wet, and naked, this isn’t the right context.”

“Love you, too, Crocy…” you rolled into the towel and got comfortable right where you belonged. 

Crocodile gave a grateful nod to Mihawk, who had to get his own towel.  Crocodile was a sweetheart to you.  But you were also you, “Crocodile?”

“What?” Crocodile turned on his heel.

“I know you’re going to bring her back to bed,” Mihawk thought, “But pray tell, which bed are you putting her in?  I’m sure hers hasn’t been properly cleaned yet.  And if it has, there’s no way it’s dry.”

“I have it all taken care of, Mihawk,” Crocodile rolled his eyes, “You think I don’t know how to take care of YN when she’s sick?  Or anyone for that matter?  I did it with him.  I’ll do it with her, too.”

Mihawk looked at Crocodile strangely, “Him who, Crocodile?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Crocodile kept a tight lip as he brought you back to your room.  However, you weren’t going to your bed.  Because as Mihawk suggested, there was still a wet spot on the edge of your bed where you were presumably laying when the incident went down.  No, no.  You were brought into Crocodile’s bed.  But you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Crocodile,” you spoke softly, “Why are we here?”

“I’m not putting you back in your bed,” Crocodile gently lowered you back down to the mattress, “It’s still a little wet.”

“But what about you?” you wondered, “I don’t want you getting sick, too.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Princess,” Crocodile settled you, tucking you in his massive bed, “You just need to worry about getting better.  And even that, we have taken care of.  I’m going to get you a t-shirt, ok?”

“Ok.” You always did love sleeping in Crocodile’s t-shirts.  You always drowned in them and made you feel little and dainty.  Much like sleeping with Crocodile did.  He babied you.  And you weren’t mad about it.

“Here, sweetheart,” Crocodile came back with a gray t-shirt just for you and helped you in it, “Go back to sleep, ok?  I’ll go get your medicine and when I get back, you’re taking it.  Got it?”

“Yes, sir…” you gave him a little fake pout as you nestled down in his bed.  And after you popped your next round of medicine, you were back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms. 

**********

“Thank you for coming.  I know it was short notice.”

“Of course.  I have an obligation to help those who need it.  And clearly, she’s been in rough shape.”

“We’ve been doing all we can for her, but it feels like she’s not getting any better.”

“Well, she’s not running a fever anymore, so we can chalk that up as a win.”

Slowly, but surely, you opened your eyes when you felt a foreign pair of hands on your chest, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Excuse me?” the man stared you down, not sure if he wanted to cure you or kill you.  But then, you got a better look at him.  And for a brief moment, you forgot you were already in a committed relationship with three other men.  He was pretty…

“It’s alright, YN,” Mihawk assured you, sitting at your bedside with Crocodile, “I called for a doctor.  He showed up.  And he’s damn good at what he does.”

You knew those knuckles.  You’ve heard stories about those knuckles.  The word death tattooed across them.  And in your current condition, that wasn’t exactly comforting, “Trafalgar Law…”

“That’s me,” he nodded, “Look, I have some medicine on the ship.  By the looks of things, she just caught a tinge of the flu.  She’ll make it, but for the sake of nipping it in the bud, I’ll give her something.  Unfortunately, the quickest way for it to get through her system is intravenously.  Is that something we’re all good with?”

“Yes,” Mihawk agreed.

“Yes,” Crocodile wasn’t much different.

“Hold on.” You, on the other hand, weren’t exactly a fan of the word intravenous.  Intravenous meant needles.  Needles meant pain.  Pain meant you having a not good day.  And you were already miserable.

“No,” Crocodile took your hand, “I know it’s not going to be pleasant, YN, but it’s the quickest way to get you better.  If we agree to this, how long until she’d be a hundred percent again?”

“With a decent night’s sleep?” Law thought it over, “She’d probably be better by the morning.  Completely.  That doesn’t mean she won’t be still a little contagious.  So, I’d suggest the two of you still exercise caution around her.  While I’m getting her meds ready, I can set you both up with a heavy duty round of vitamin C.”

“If it means still being able to sleep with her tonight,” Crocodile thought, “It’s worth it.  Misery doesn’t ever mind a little bit of company, does it?”

“Nope,” you cuddled into Crocodile’s side, “Thank you…”

“I probably should, too, then,” Mihawk sighed out, taking your hand, “Besides, it’s, what, one little tablet?”

“If only,” Law started heading out of Crocodile’s bedroom, “So, that’s a round of peramivir for you and two bags of vitamin C.  A boring day of work, but they can’t all be a bloodbath.”

“Wait a second,” Mihawk started to piece things together, “Did I just sign up for needles, too?”

“You sure did,” Crocodile smirked, “What’s the matter, Mihawk?  Not a fan of needles?”

“I’m concerned for anyone who says they are,” Mihawk admitted, “But yes.  I might not be the biggest fan of needles.”

“Me either,” you took Mihawk’s hand.  Because even in your state, you weren’t going to stoop to Crocodile’s level.  They didn’t have to love each other, but they loved you more than anything, “But we’ll be alright…If it means me getting better and you and Crocodile not getting sick, we’ll get through it.”

“Then,” Mihawk suggested, “Shouldn’t we get Buggy involved, too?”

“No way in hell!” Buggy yelled down the hall, “You two were dumb enough to stick around!  I don’t need that!”

“There it is,” Crocodile found Buggy’s ear sitting behind the cigar box on his dresser.  He held it up to his mouth and let out a guttural growl, “Listen well, clown.  You ever bug my bedroom again and we will have a problem.  Do we understand?”

“Crocy…Baby…” Buggy got defensive, sending his mouth your way, too, “I wasn’t bugging your bedroom, per se.  I was worried about YN, too.  I just wanted to hear what the doctor had to say, too.”

“Then, get your ass in here…” Crocodile winged Buggy’s ear out the door, “Fucking clown…Why do we put up with him?”

But then, you saw a pair of cheeks fly into Crocodile’s room.  And you immediately knew what they were.  It made you laugh, but your laughter made you cough.  Still, it was enough to put a smile on your face.  And that’s all that mattered.  However, Crocodile and Mihawk weren’t nearly as amused as you were.  That didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate the sweet sound of your laughter.

“Buggy,” Mihawk held his face in his hands, “If you sent your literal ass into this room, my foot is about to go into it.”

“Are you threatening me with a good time, hawk eyes…?”

“Buggy!”

“Alright, alright!” Buggy retracted his floating hiney and let those sleeping dogs lie.

Although, when Law walked back in, he couldn’t help but scratch his head, “Did I just see a floating ass in the hallway?”

“We call her Perona,” you joked a bit, “Unless you were talking about Buggy’s ass.  Then, yes, you did.”

“Anyway,” Law just chalked it up to casual stupidity and held three bags in his hand and a few drip stands, “I need three arms out.”

“You mean, you need YN’s arm out,” Mihawk corrected him, “Right?”

“No,” Law shook his head, already prepping your arm for the IV, “I mean, I need three arms out.  Because once I got hers in, you two are getting it, too.”

“And,” Mihawk hoped, “You really don’t have it in some kind of pill form?”

“Not this strength,” Law told him, “The amount you two need is in these bags.”

“I can’t believe it,” Crocodile teased, “You’re really afraid of needles.”

“I’m human,” Mihawk snapped a bit, “Even I have fears and weaknesses…Just happens to be needles.  Fuck off, Crocodile.  No one asked you.”

“Are you going to be ok, YN?” Law asked, tuning the others out.

“Mmhm.” You weren’t thrilled about it either, but if it meant you getting better, then so be it.  You’d suck it up for just a moment or two.

“Are you sure?” Law kept your eye contact, “Because I know these aren’t always pleasant.”

“I don’t want to meet the person that finds genuine enjoyment in getting administered IVs,” you chuckled to yourself.

“Why’s that?” Law glanced over at Crocodile, knowing he was the rock in the room.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you admitted, “I’m no stranger to enjoying a little bit of pain from time to time, but it has to be in the right context.  It has to be cough, cough just the right amount.  There has to be an exit.”

“So,” Law assumed, “You’re into that sort of thing?  Because it sounds like you’ve experienced it a time or two before.”

“Look who I’m sitting between,” you rolled your eyes, “Two of the biggest sadists I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.  Of course, we’ve played around with pain before.”

“And would you look at that?” Law cracked a little smirk, “You’re already a quarter of the way through your bag.  Didn’t feel a thing, did you?”

“What?” you looked down at the needle stuck in your arm and the tube attached to the needle, “When did you do that?”

“Around the time you said you didn’t want to meet the sick weirdo that was into getting IVs,” Law pointed out, “I’ve worked with little kids before, YN.  I know how to distract better than anyone.  I bet I could keep Mihawk from passing out, too.”

“Really?”

“Really?” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “I don’t pass out.”

“Uh-huh,” Law scoffed, “You were just talking about how you had a fear of needles.”

“And?” Mihawk’s tirade continued, “What does that have to do with anything?  It’s like I said.  I’m human.  What?  Am I not allowed to have fears now?  Just because I’m a big, scary warlord means I’m somehow no longer allowed to have emotion?  Fine.  Then, I guess I’ll just sit here and be a stone.  I’m sorry, YN.  I can no longer love you.  And I can no longer get pissed when Crocodile puts scorch marks in my furniture.  And unfortunately, I also can’t draw delight from whenever you punt Buggy’s head down the hallway.”

“But you can shut up and take your vitamin C drip,” Law brushed him off, turning the nozzle on Mihawk’s bag, “I told you so.”

“What?” Mihawk finally realized there was something in his arm.  There was an IV in his arm.  There was a needle stuck in his arm.  And his vision started to go white, “See?  I told…I told you…”

And there he went.  His head flopped onto your shoulder while the vitamin C drip ran through his body.  And of course, Crocodile couldn’t leave that alone, “And I told you so.  How do you do that, Law?”

“I hold a little conversation,” Law explained, “Get someone going on a rant, they’re not going to give a shit about anything else that’s going on around them.  Easy.”

“Did you just treat me like a toddler?!” Mihawk clutched his chest.

“Are you throwing a tantrum like a toddler?” Law wasn’t dealing with it.  He was already out of his way.  He didn’t need to also deal with Mihawk pitching a fit, “Because if I wanted to deal with tantrums, I would’ve stayed with Doflamingo.”

“Maybe I should tell Doflamingo about this,” Mihawk threatened.

“But let’s be honest,” Law jabbed the needle in Crocodile’s arm.  Crocodile, who sat perfectly still and hardly flinched, “Do you really want to deal with Doflamingo?”

“I mean…” Mihawk admitted, “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t fun to be a little catty with at World Government meetings.  But that’s as far as I really wanted to go with him.”

“You and me both,” Crocodile agreed.

“Now,” Law looked over at your bag that was sucked dry and gently pulled the needle out of your arm, “You’re going to get some more sleep.  By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, you should be alright again.  If you’re not, I’ll come back.”

“Ok,” you got comfortable again, “And since they’re both juiced up on vitamin C, does that mean I can still sleep with Crocodile tonight?”

“Are you serious?” Law stared blankly at you, “You’re still going to have sex with Crocodile in your condition?  Damn, YN.  I’m not sure if I’m impressed by your stamina or appalled at your stupidity.”

“No,” you held your face in your hands, “I meant sleep.  I’m not used to sleeping without another warm body in my bed.  I’d rather not do that.”

“Oh,” Law let it go, “Personally, I wouldn’t advise it, but if it’s alright with all involved, then go for it.  At your own risk.”

“Ok…”

“But…” Law chuckled to himself while Mihawk slumped down after his needle got pulled out, “I think you might need to make room in the bed for Mihawk, too.”

“Not a chance,” Crocodile shot that down immediately, “It’s my week.  Mihawk can wait his turn.  Mihawk, wake the fuck up and get out of my bed.”

Nothing.

“Looks like he’s done,” Law shook it off, “Crocodile, give me your arm.  You’re done, too.”

“The shit I do for you, YN,” Crocodile watched Law pull his needle out.

“Thank you…” And you love him for it, “Thank you, Law.”

“You’re welcome,” Law grabbed his things, “I suggest putting Mihawk somewhere comfortable.”

“That isn’t here,” Crocodile added, scooping Mihawk into his arms, “YN, I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Ok,” you could already feel your eyes getting a little heavier.  All you wanted now was some sleep.  And the fact that you had that pretty doctor taking care of you didn’t hurt. 

“Knock, knock…” Although, while Crocodile was busy putting Mihawk to bed, you had a special visitor, “How you feeling, doll?”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smiled a bit, “Well, I still feel like shit, but I think I’ll make it.  Full recovery.”

“That’s good to hear,” Buggy wasn’t moving from the doorway.  It’s not that he didn’t want to get close to you, but he also didn’t want to get close to you, “So, what are we thinking?  Are you going to be ok by next week?”

“I should be fine by tomorrow,” you assured him, “Don’t worry, Buggy.  I won’t be sick next week.”

“Because,” Buggy sent his hand out to you, gently caressing your cheek, “I have a few new toys in my room that I want us to try out.  And I want you to feel up to it.  Got it?”

“I will,” you promised, “I’ll be fine.”

“Good girl,” Buggy brought his hand back, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take an excruciatingly hot shower.”

“I understand.” Never did you expect Buggy to be the one with a germ thing, but you weren’t going to fault him much for it.  Instead, you decided to shut your eyes.  Just for a moment or two.  You wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost sleep you being sick has caused.  But alas…You still couldn’t get that lucky.

“So, are you dead?” And Perona never really had much for tact.

“I’m not dead,” you groaned, “I’m just tired, Perona.  And in my own special hell.  Can I go to sleep yet?”

“I can’t check up on you?” Perona scoffed, “Honestly, YN.  I thought we had something special, too.  Not just you and the boys.”

“We do,” you threw your head back into the pillows, “But I’m also miserable.  And tired.”

“And don’t think I didn’t hear that crack about you calling me an ass!” Perona pouted.

“That’s great, Perona…” You drifted in and out of consciousness.  And you were perfectly ok with that.

“I’m not an ass!”

“Mmhm…”

“I am a fucking sweetheart, thank you very much!”

“Good talk, Perona…”

“And you are damn lucky to have me in your life!”

“Mmm…” But you were done.  You were going to let Perona continue her tirade, but you were done with it.  It was time for you to go to sleep.  Whether Perona was happy about it or not.  You needed the rest.  In all honesty, if Mihawk hadn’t passed out after his IV, he would’ve gladly shooed her away for you.  But alas, Mihawk had to go and pass out after his IV coming out.  But you weren’t going to fault him for it.  As long as you got to go back to sleep.

“Perona, get the hell out of here.” Much like that, but instead of it coming out of Mihawk, you got it from Crocodile instead.  Although, you weren’t expecting to be fully woken up by it.

“You’re no fun,” Perona pouted, “Where’s Mihawk?  I guess I could go fuck with him.”

“He’s passed out in his bed,” Crocodile reported, “The big baby can’t handle needles, apparently.”

“Poor thing,” Perona grinned, the sadism stirring in her heart.

“You’re the worst, Perona,” you made a little more room for Crocodile.

“I know.” And just like that, Perona was gone.  Likely off to screw with Mihawk in unspeakable ways.  If not Mihawk, you knew she was going to go take it all out on Buggy.  Much like everyone else would.

Your arms went up to Crocodile, quietly begging him to come to bed.  Of course, he couldn’t say no to you.  He crawled back into his bed and you stuck right to him like a magnet.  Crocodile’s giant hands ran idly down your back, “You should be back to sleep already, Princess.”

“I know,” you shut your eyes, “I was waiting for you to get back here.”

“You would’ve been able to sleep without me,” Crocodile brushed you off, “I’m sure whatever Law gave you had some kind of tranquilizer in it.”

“I don’t think so,” you nestled into Crocodile’s ribs, “Crocy…I’m tired…”

“Clearly,” Crocodile chuckled to himself, “Just go to sleep, sweetheart.  Ok?”

“I will…” And so, you drifted back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms, refusing to be anywhere else.  Between Crocodile’s warmth, your general exhaustion, and your medicine kicking in, there was no way you wouldn’t sleep through the night.  You didn’t care about anything else.  You had your blankets.  You had your warlord of the week.  You were done.

Purupuru…

“Yeah?” Crocodile kept his voice down, making sure not to wake you.  Granted, that ship had already sailed, but you were curious, so you kept your eyes shut, “Hi.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it…?  I’d be happy to, but forgive my skepticism…I wouldn’t say we parted ways as best buddies…Look, I can’t really talk right now…Yeah.  She’s been sick for the last day or so.  It hasn’t been pretty.  Kind of reminded me of when we were taking care of Luffy when he was little…I know.  Scared the shit out of me…Yeah, yeah.  She’ll be fine.  We got a doctor to her and he juiced her up with something.  He called it peramivir.  He juiced Mihawk and me, too, but that was just vitamin C…Good.  She needed something strong…Thank you.  That’s oddly kind of you.  Are you dying…?  I know.  Maybe one day, if she’s alright with it.  You do know where I’m staying these days, right…?  Mihawk’s.  Just call ahead first…Don’t go getting sentimental on me…Good night.”

“Crocodile…?” You stirred at his side, “What was that all about?”

“What was what, Princess?” Crocodile put his hand up to your forehead and let out a little sigh of relief, “Good.  That shit works fast.”

“What do you mean?” you wondered.

“Your fever’s gone,” Crocodile reported, “You’re almost all better.  Remind me to send Law a fruit basket.”

“Will do,” you went back to sleep, letting that conversation slip your mind.

“Go back to sleep, YN,” Crocodile pulled your blankets back over you.

“Yes, sir…”

[thestuffieguardian]

Take care everyone. I love you all 💙

💙💙💙All Bedtime Stories found here 💙💙💙

The Little Prince is currently being read

Up next - Mary Howitt: The Spider and the Fly

Afterwards - Say Cheese and Die, Goosebumps

The Naughty Audio Content

The Wholesome affirmation words you might need to hear 💙

Venting Discord Server

Luigi Mangione

[ag40249]

still, i don't wish you to forget me

[cambion-companion]

Hi! I wanted to know, how do you imagine the interactions betwen Tav and Raphael would have gone like, if they had been Tav’s fiend patron? (as in, they already start the game with the contract (we were robbed)) 

Oh, it would be such an interesting dynamic. And Raphael is ready as ever to adapt to a new situation and manipulate it to his own ends.

The last few days had been an utter whirlwind of madness. Relief at not falling to your death from the Nautiloid contrasting sharply with the dread of having an Illithid parasite in your brain. A ticking time bomb.

You had wondered how long it would be before Raphael came to collect you. As it turned out, you didn't have long to wait before you sensed your fiendish patron's presence. The back of your neck prickled, a shower of sparks cascading from an opening portal caught your eye.

"I had wondered where you'd fluttered off to." Raphael's cadence sounded familiar and almost comforting to your ears, maybe he could help you. "And you've gained such illustrious companions along the way." Mildly sardonic as his brown eyes landed on Karlach who'd frozen in place while stuffing her face with dinner.

"Raphael." You greeted, breathless from the surprise visit. "It's..." You hesitated on the rushed words. "...good to see you." Despite the nature of the devil, you felt relieved at seeing a familiar face.

Raphael bestowed an arch look upon you, the corner of his narrow mouth tilting up. "I always keep close watch over my most prized possessions. When you disappeared from even my purview, I must admit to experiencing my own form of concern." He approached and took your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up for inspection. "You look a little worse for wear. Has my favorite client suffered a chance of ill-fate?" He moved your head to the side, you half thought he would open your mouth to inspect your teeth. "You have a little visitor inside that lovely head, it seems." He snaked a hand around the back of your neck, a little possessive as his gaze sharpened on something you couldn't discern. "A rather unwelcome one, on all fronts." You could intuit those last words were not meant for you or your companions.

"Can you help?" You asked, the urgency of your situation thrumming cold in your veins.

Raphael chuckled, his gaze still narrowed on your wan face. "Does the sun rise in the east and set in the west? Can a young sapling be felled by an ax?" Raphael gave the nape of your neck a squeeze. "I live to help those in need, and perhaps this...little problem squirming in your brain offers just the opportunity I've been seeking."

"Seeking? How so?"

"As ever, you delight me with your inquisitive mind, however naive to think I'd offer you such information so readily." Raphael looked down at you, your noses almost touching. "Come, it's time to go home and have a more private chat."

[thatsbelievable]

[tomhardymyking]

Photos that smell like 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 🎄

Do you remember when we had these special 𝑪𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒃𝒊𝒆𝒔 programmes with 𝗧𝗼𝗺 and 𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 in 2021? 😍💖

I wish they were on YouTube! Although, if anyone has them in good quality, you can send them to me if you want 😏

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 is just around the corner 😮! Do you already have everything prepared? 💓

⠀⠀⠀⠀

Fotos que huelen a 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐝 🎄

¿Os acordáis de cuando tuvimos estos programas especiales de 𝑪𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒃𝒊𝒆𝒔 con 𝗧𝗼𝗺 y 𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 en 2021? 😍💖

¡Ojalá estuvieran en YouTube! Aunque, si alguno/a los tiene en buena calidad, puede pasármelo si quiere 😏

¡La 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐝 está a la vuelta de la esquina 😮! ¿Ya tenéis todo preparado? 💓

⠀⠀

[fidjiefidjie]

👧 📖 🐱 Choupinette du jour ! 🥰

Bedtime story...

👋 Bel après-midi

[bostonboy1981]

Advent day 4

Chris Evans reading bedtime story for cbeebies

[xiaoaetherposts]

Aether and Lumine reunited 😭💛

Aether's expressions broke my heart. 💔

"There's so much I wanted to ask you, but for some reason, I'm not interested in asking those questions right now.

There's just one thing I have to ask, one thing I could never understand...

Why... why can't we continue our journey together?"

Twitter(X): @xiaoaetherposts

[sushisusii]

Bedtime story

[aleeyenn]

pillowbook my heart

[lumiolivier]

Cordially Invited

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 9796

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

a/n: This is it. My last post for the year. Thanks for sticking around with me while I ride the high of my One Piece hyperfixation. Especially with the Cross Guild. Here. I've been working hard on this for a while now. And uh...You know...For science...If someone were to draw Crocodile from this chapter, I'd be forever grateful...Happy Good Riddance to 2024 day. <3

You knew that your boys were not ones to shy away from a good party.  Given that Buggy was a natural entertainer, Mihawk was a slut for attention, and Crocodile practically lived in a casino in Alabasta, you knew there was no way you were getting out of a party.  Granted, you had your own plans.  You wanted a night of peace and quiet.  You wanted a night of some time alone with Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile.  And possibly Perona if she was feeling up to it, but for the most part, you wanted your boys.

However, you were not going to get that luxury.  Because Mihawk wanted to play.  Mihawk needed that attention whore itch scratched.  And as much as he loved you, he needed something more.  That also meant you going into hiding.  Mihawk’s castle was full of secret passageways.  Some of them, he didn’t even know about.  Even though he had Perona who had a working map of the place in her head.  And given her pension for making things messy, it made you need an exceptional place to hide. 

You didn’t want to party.  You didn’t want to deal with people.  You didn’t want a bunch of strangers in your home.  You wanted your boys.  And no one could blame you.  You were their greedy baby and they loved you for it.  But from the time you knew Mihawk would wake up in the morning, you needed to be up at least ten minutes beforehand in order to find somewhere safe.  Where there was a party at Mihawk’s castle, there was going to be three gentlemen who wanted to spend their time making sure their crown jewel, their special treasure, shine as bright as possible.

Whether that treasure liked it or not.

Which brings us to why you’re hiding in a cozy corner of the castle.  Why you’re currently living like the rats in the wall.  Why you’re hoping like crazy that no one finds you.  You could hear footsteps outside your hiding place.  The worst game of hide and seek ever, you thought to yourself.  And you weren’t wrong.  You just wanted a day to yourself.  You didn’t want to deal with a party.  You didn’t want to deal with a full house.  You wanted your boys.  And your boys alone.  But oh, no.  Mihawk’s too big of an attention whore to realize his own attention whore right in front of him.

Tap…Tap…

“Found you,” Mihawk spoke outside the wall.  Your hands immediately went over your mouth as your breaths grew shallower.  They had to.  Mihawk could hear a pin drop on the other side of the castle.  You breathing in the walls would be nothing.  Still, you managed.  As far as you were concerned, he had no idea.  You were still safe.

“Did you find her yet?” Ordinarily, you’d love nothing more than to hear Crocodile’s voice.  However, this wasn’t the context.

“I did,” Mihawk confirmed, sending your heart rate through the ceiling, “I think she’s hiding in the servant passages.  And if I hear correctly…”

Tap…Tap…Tap.

“There?” Crocodile assumed.

“There,” Mihawk confirmed, “YN…You need to come out now, darling.  We don’t have time for this.”

You stayed right where you were.  Although, you knew you weren’t going to stay there forever.  You wouldn’t be able to.  You needed to run, but they’d definitely hear you running.  And Mihawk and Crocodile were never ones to shy away from the chase.  They liked the hunt.  Especially when you were their prey.  It brought out something incredibly primal in them.  And competitive.  Because they both knew whoever got to you first was the winner.  And yet, you never won in that scenario.  At least not like this. 

“And it looks like she’s not coming out,” Crocodile noticed, “Would you like me to get her?”

“If it’s not too much to ask for.”

“She seems to think she can run…” A sudden rush of sand came through the crack in the wall.  And Crocodile apparated on the other end, “But she cannot hide.  Hello, Princess.”

“Hello…” You knew you were screwed.  You knew you were so screwed.  You weren’t sure if it was the smirk on Crocodile’s face or the smug sense of satisfaction you could feel radiating from Mihawk.

“Oh, YN,” Crocodile pulled you against his chest, “You know I love you dearly.  You know I want only the best for you.  But it’s not nice to not come when we call for you.  Especially on nights like tonight.”

“Oh, fuck,” you fell in Crocodile’s arms.  Because he wasn’t going to give you another option, “Fine…”

“You’re going to go play with Mihawk for a while,” Crocodile picked your chin up, forcing eye contact with you, “And you’re going to be his good little girl for a while.  Do you understand?  You’re not going to give him any attitude.  You’re not going to be a brat.  You’re going to do exactly what he says and you will do it whenever he says to.  Aren’t you, YN?”

“Yes, sir…” Because any other answer would’ve resulted in Crocodile taking you over his knee.  And he was in a mood already.  Any other time, you going over Crocodile’s knee wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing.  Today was not the day.

And so, Crocodile held your hand while he marched you back down the hall and out the servants’ door.  Was it a death march?  No.  Did it feel like one?  Kind of.  Would you live through it?  Yes.  Absolutely.  That didn’t mean you wanted to, though.  Once you popped out of the servants’ door, Mihawk waited for you, leaned against the wall.  He wasn’t overly thrilled about your sudden game of hide and seek, but the chase wasn’t the worst. 

“Next time, darling,” Mihawk took you off Crocodile’s hands, “Make it a little more of a challenge.  The servant passages seem a little…I don’t know.  Cliché.  You’re much cleverer than that.  You can do better.”

“I probably could’ve found a better beach to wash up on, too,” you sassed him under your breath.

“And I seem to remember someone waking up in a nice, warm bed,” Mihawk thought back, “with dry clothes on her body and the moment she woke up, she had warm food in her stomach after not eating anything in days.  And then, she ended up with a roof over her head and three men who fell hopelessly in love with her.  You live such a difficult life, don’t you, YN?”

“I’m going with you, aren’t I?” You really didn’t anticipate Mihawk hearing you, but you really should’ve known better.  Mihawk’s hearing was sharp as a tack.

“The way I see it,” Mihawk bargained, “This can go one of two ways.  Either you fully cooperate with me and this is a pleasant experience for you or you don’t cooperate and I make this experience a living hell.  Either way, it’s getting done.”

You may have not been overly thrilled, but it wasn’t going to be the end of the world.  So, you forced a smile on your face, “I guess I cooperate.”

“Good choice, darling,” Mihawk stole a quick kiss from you, “Now, you know where to go.”

“I know, I know…”

When you first ended up on the shore just outside the castle, you were hardly alive.  You were shipwrecked and barely floated to the beach on a piece of driftwood.  But you were tired.  Your will to live slowly slipped away.  Any hope of finding help was lost.  Until you nearly blacked out on that little strip of beach.  You didn’t know how long you were on that beach, but it wasn’t that you were worried about.  It was you waking up in what would eventually be considered your bedroom that had you concerned.  You saw the wanted posters.  You knew who stood around you.  You knew who the Cross Guild was.  It wasn’t every day you ran into warlords.  And you also knew they were the most beautiful bunch of pirates to sail the seas.  But you knew they were dangerous.  You knew you needed to be careful.  In those days, though, you didn’t have the energy to fight back.  And you didn’t regret it for a single second.

Until Mihawk brought you to his room where a seamstress was already waiting for you.  And because you made Mihawk a promise, you had to suck it up.  Through the invasive measuring, you gritted your teeth and let her do what she needed to.  And once she was done, you immediately went straight into Mihawk’s bed.  It’s all you wanted.  Just comfort.  And maybe the sweet smell you two leave behind in those soft, silk sheets. 

“Oh, darling,” Mihawk crawled in next to you, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Catching a brief nap until I’m needed again,” you told him, your eyes closed and your head on the pillow. 

“No,” Mihawk gave you a nudge, “You’re going to have to go through a few fittings and make some fabric choices before you can take any naps.”

“Perona!” you called out into the ether, hoping she heard you somehow somewhere.

“You bellow for me, YN?” Perona apparated in the middle of Mihawk’s room.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“No,” Mihawk already shot that down, “You’re not letting Perona be your stand-in.  Not happening.  Although, while I have you here, Perona, perhaps you could help me with something.”

“Sure, Mihawk,” Perona floated above him, “What can I do for you, oh great master?”

“Perona…”

“I know, I know,” Perona brushed him off, “What’s on your mind?”

“I may need a second opinion,” Mihawk explained, “And I trust your judgments.”

“Aww, Mihawk,” Perona melted inside, “That’s so sweet of you.  I’d be happy to be your second opinion.  What’s it for?”

“We’re putting a dress together for YN for tonight,” Mihawk explained, “And I’m a little torn on fabrics.”

“I can do that,” Perona leaned over his shoulder, “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking jewel tones,” Mihawk suggested, “YN always looks drop dead stunning in jewel tones.  Then again, she also looks her best in absolutely nothing at all, so you understand my dilemma.”

“Mihawk,” Perona squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to suppress what just came out of his mouth, “Come on.  What you and YN do behind closed doors is your business.  I hear enough of it through the walls.”

“Sorry,” Mihawk looked over at you.  Beautiful, wonderful you, comfortably laying on your belly, “But I’m not wrong.  YN in jewel tones is the ideal.”

“Big surprise,” Perona floated on her back, “Mihawk wants YN in jewel tones.  Probably the darker jewel tones, too, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Again,” Perona reiterated, “Big surprise.  Come on, Mihawk.  Do you not want YN to branch out?  Or hey!  Better yet, shouldn’t we let her have an opinion?”

“When she doesn’t hide in the walls every time we throw a party,” Mihawk shot you a glare that ran through your body in the best way, “That’s when she gets an opinion.”

“Fair,” Perona let it go.

“Fair?” you whined, “Perona!  I thought you’d be on my side.  What happened to you being a girl’s girl?”

“I still am,” Perona assured you, “But Mihawk’s got a point.  If you were acting up, who am I to stop him from punishing his little brat?”

“Perona!”

“Thank you, Perona,” Mihawk pulled a few fabric swatches and handed them off to her, “Go on.  Pick your favorite.”

“Will do,” Perona thumbed through her options.

“Traitor…” you growled at her.

“I wouldn’t say traitor,” Perona held up a deep red silk to your face before grimacing a bit, “No.  Not that one.”

“Really?” Mihawk wondered, “Why not?  Honestly, that was my first choice.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Perona brushed him off, continuing through her choices, “Don’t get me wrong.  I do love a good dark red, but not for tonight.”

“Understandable,” Mihawk backed off.

“Hmm…” Perona held up another swatch to your cheek.  A deep green that she was seriously considering, “Mihawk?  What are we thinking?”

“Too subtle,” Mihawk shot her down, “YN is definitely stunning in green, but it’s not doing anything for me.”

“Alright, alright,” Perona kept going, this time, pulling a deep navy that nearly bordered on black, “What about this one?  How are we feeling?”

“You know,” Mihawk thought it over, “It’s not bad.  That one?”

“You don’t think it’s too subtle?” Perona wondered.

“Don’t you think YN should get a say in this?” you chimed in.

“Not now, darling,” Mihawk hushed you, “Perona and I are in deep collaboration.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you groaned, falling back onto the bed.

“No, no, no,” Mihawk smirked, “I like that.  As much as I love the thought of making YN stick out like a sore thumb, she’s still my sore thumb.  And everyone in the room needs to understand that.  No one needs to be making cheap passes at her.  And she certainly doesn’t need to stray.”

“She has no intention of it,” you nestled your face in Mihawk’s thigh, making yourself comfortable…and hopefully in his good graces.

“I know,” Mihawk ran his fingers through your hair, “I know.  Because cheating on me would mean cheating on Crocodile and Buggy, too.  And we all know that wouldn’t end pretty.”

“I’m not going to cheat on any of you,” you promised, “Mihawk, I love you.  And I love Buggy and Crocodile, too.  I’m not straying.  No matter how much this party is going to make me want to leave all three of you.”

“What did we do?” Mihawk wondered, “What did we possibly do to make you want to leave us?”

“You and Crocodile ganged up on me this morning,” you reminded him, shoving your finger in his chest, “Buggy was complicit.”

“Buggy’s been holed up in his room for the last hour,” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “You think I’m dramatic for things like this.  Clearly, you’ve never dealt with the clown when there’s promise of an audience.”

“He is kind of an attention whore,” Perona agreed, “But I hate to break it to you, Mihawk.  You’re just as bad.”

“Bullshit.”

“Really?” Perona floated on her belly, “Are we really going to go down this route?”

“YN,” Mihawk gave you a little nudge, “Stay in the castle.  Perona and I need to have some words.”

“Oh, boy!” Perona giggled, “My favorite.”

A sudden groan from down the hall caught your attention.  You figured that would be somewhere better than Mihawk’s room.  A room you didn’t expect to go into.  Crocodile grumbled curses to himself while the sound of falling objects clattered on the floor.  When Crocodile got into a mood, you knew to tread lightly, but something about this one felt different.  You’ve seen him in moods before.  You’ve never heard him in a mood coming out of his bathroom.

“Crocodile…?” you spoke softly, kindly, “Is everything ok?”

“Not now, YN,” Crocodile shooed you away, “It’s not the time.  I don’t want to deal with you when I’m pissed off.”

“What happened?” you tiptoed into the bathroom where Crocodile sat on a stool in nothing but a towel.  You’d be lying if you didn’t appreciate the sight.  Under any better circumstances, you would’ve been into it.  But seeing Crocodile with his face in his hands killed the moment.

“Don’t worry about it, YN,” Crocodile’s irritation only grew, “Go.  Aren’t you supposed to be with Mihawk right now?”

“He’s tearing Perona a new ass,” you filled him in, “He told me I could walk around the castle all I wanted.  I’m sure he’ll yell for me when he needs me again.”

“Then, shouldn’t you just stay with him?” Crocodile scoffed.

“Why would I do that,” you draped your arms over his bare, solid, and still slightly wet from his shower shoulders, “when you need me more than he does?”

As infuriated as Crocodile was, he couldn’t help but hold your hands against his chest, “Thank you, Princess.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“So,” you hoped you had him calmed down enough to get him to talk.  Just a little, “What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s something incredibly stupid to get this pissed about,” Crocodile sighed out, “But I’m out of gel and it’s kind of getting to me.  I don’t look right without it.”

“That’s what this little tantrum was all about?” you stared blankly into the mirror, “That’s what’s got you so bitchy?”

“I told you it was stupid,” Crocodile got defensive again.

“Stupid, no,” you laid your head in his neck, “Nonsensical, yes.  So, you ran out of gel.  Find something else.  Or improvise.”

“There isn’t anything else around the castle,” Crocodile pouted, “There aren’t any supply ships running for another couple days.  Everything for this party came this morning and I didn’t realize how empty my jar was.”

But that’s when you had an idea.  You knew exactly how to fix everything, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I do,” Crocodile pulled you into his lap, “Why?”

“Because,” you kissed his cheek, “I have a plan.  Stay here.  I need to go steal some things from Buggy real quick.”

“What would you need to go steal from the clown?” Crocodile started to sweat a bit, “Unless he’s got a spare jar of the goods, I don’t see you needing to see Buggy, too.”

“Just trust me,” you left Crocodile alone in the bathroom and bolted down the hall, nearly tripping over your own two feet.  You had a plan.  And a good one at that.  But before you could enact your plan, you had to go and grovel at Buggy’s feet.  But considering he had a very soft spot in his heart for his special little doll, that wasn’t going to be much groveling.

When you poked your head into Buggy’s room, he, too, was in the middle of preparing for the evening’s festivities with outfit options on the bed.  You didn’t even have to knock.  Buggy was always more than happy to have you in his room, “Hey there, doll.  What brings you center stage?”

“I need a little something, something from my favorite ringmaster,” you draped your arms around Buggy’s shoulders, stealing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“My, my, YN…” Buggy clutched his chest, “You realize if we’re not downstairs by the time this party starts, Mihawk’s going to have our asses mounted over his fireplace, right?  And I’ll admit it.  If we’re only here for a quickie, anything under five minutes would just be an unnecessary blow to my ego.”

“I’m not here for sex, baby,” you assured him, “I need about a dozen clear elastics.  You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”

“In the bathroom,” Buggy directed you, “Top drawer on the far right in the back.  Those don’t get used often.  Besides, there’s nothing wrong with you having a little color.  What would you want the clear ones for?”

“They’re not for me,” you went digging around in Buggy’s bathroom drawers for your elastics, “Crocodile’s having a mini tantrum and I’m about to make it all better.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Buggy followed you into his bathroom, “You didn’t say anything about this being for Crocodile.”

“Oops,” you grabbed a fistful of elastics and started heading out.  Only for Buggy to grab you by the shoulder, “Come on, Buggy.  Even though I want to go to this party as much as I want to go to a slumber party at the Marine base, I want to have a good time.  And I can’t go have a good time if all my boys aren’t at their best.  Besides, you have a thousand of these things.  A few of them going down the hall isn’t going to kill you.”

“Let me rephrase this, sweetheart,” Buggy cradled your cheek in the palm of his hand, “Crocodile’s mean to me and I don’t want him to have any of my things.”

“He doesn’t have them,” you clarified, “Right now, I do.  You can live with that, can’t you?  I’m not mean to you.”

“I don’t know, doll,” Buggy thought back, “I seem to remember someone dropkicking my already severed head down the hall once.”

“That was one time,” you rolled your eyes.  But you pulled yourself together and snuck in one last kiss, “Thank you, Buggy.  I’ll be sure to repay this favor later.”

“Well…” Buggy smiled a bit, “If it’s getting repaid, I suppose I can let you go off with them.  Besides, it’s just the clear ones.”

“Thank you.” And with your little success putting a pep in your step, you headed back down the hall.

“YN!” And there went your mission busted.  Mihawk’s voice echoed through the castle.  And you knew you needed to go back to his room.  However, you had more pressing matters to attend to.  You stopped off back in Crocodile’s bedroom.  And you wanted nothing more than to crawl back into Crocodile’s bed and take a little nap before the evening’s festivities.

“YN?” Crocodile poked his head out of the bathroom, “I could’ve sworn Mihawk was yelling for you.”

“He was,” you nodded, “But right now, Mihawk is the least of my worries.  Right now, I’m more concerned with you.”

“Uh-huh…” Crocodile saw through you like a sheet of glass, “You just don’t want to go deal with whatever bullshit Mihawk has for you, do you?”

“No, sir,” you shook your head, “I would much rather be here.”

“Go, YN,” Crocodile insisted, “I’m sure it won’t be long.  And I’ll still be waiting for you.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly made your way back into Mihawk’s room.  Mostly to avoid any sort of punishment he may have had ready for you, “You call for me, Mihawk?”

“I did,” Mihawk nodded, a needle between his teeth, “Come here.  I need to see if this fits you.”

“I’m sure it does,” you saw a big, beautifully made hoopskirt in that deep, navy blue that Mihawk and Perona had picked out while you were still in their clutches, “I mean, you do have my measurements, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Mihawk nodded, watching you wiggling into the skirt, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t occasionally make mistakes.  Or perhaps your body changed a bit here and there since the last time I took your measurements.”

“Are you telling me I’m fat?!” you squeaked.

“No, darling,” Mihawk settled you, “I’m not saying anything of the sort.  I’m merely thinking about inevitabilities.  Your body is going to change.  That’s just an unfortunate fact of life.  Kind of like when it’s toward the end of the month and some of your bustiers fit a bit more snug than they usually do.”

“That’s not my fault,” you grumbled.

“And if somehow, we’re blessed with a baby,” Mihawk added, pulling away some of the fabric, “It’s going to change again.  That’s not something to be ashamed or offended by.  It’s merely part of you.”

“And that,” you stole one last kiss out of Mihawk, “is why I keep you.”

“Because it’s not you being on this island with us and having no other options?”

“That’s just a bonus,” you smiled, warming Mihawk to his core.  But you were there for a reason, “Well?  How are we feeling about the skirt?”

“It suits you,” Mihawk approved, “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“I do,” you stepped out of the skirt, “I don’t know how to break this to you, Mihawk, but…There’s another man.”

“You have two other men than me,” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “Which one is trying to get their hands on you?”

“Crocodile,” you started walking out, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a big baby to take care of.”

“Baby?” Perona perked up, “What’s got Croccy all pissy?”

“He’s out of product and needs me to save the day,” you pushed Mihawk’s door open, “Yell if you need me!”

And so, you walked back down the hall to Crocodile’s room armed with a fistful of clear elastics and a dream.  Sure enough, Crocodile hadn’t moved.  Not for a change of scenery.  Not to get dressed.  He stayed in the bathroom right where you left him.  You left the elastics on the counter and draped yourself around his shoulders yet again, “Something still bothering you, pookie?”

“Just one thing,” Crocodile admitted, looking at you strangely in the mirror, “I just recently found out you call me pookie and I’m not totally sure how to feel about it.”

“Just accept it,” you insisted, “It’s not hurting anything.  I could be calling you worse.”

“Like what?” Crocodile wondered, “What could be worse than you calling me pookie?”

“I could’ve come in here,” you looked around the vanity for a brush for the sake of getting started, “And said, shut the fuck up, slut.  We got work to do.  But I didn’t.  Instead, I called you pookie.  Does that not sound a little better?”

“I guess,” Crocodile caved, a hint of a smile on his face while you raked your nails over his scalp, “So, what did you say you were doing?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you started separating your sections out, quietly grateful that Crocodile’s hair was still damp.  Just for the sake of making things easier, “But lucky for you, your girlfriend…That’s me, by the way.  Hello.  Your girlfriend’s braiding skills are top notch.  And I can make you still look like you, just in a different way.”

“I don’t remember asking for braids,” Crocodile thought back.  However, he wasn’t going to fight you.  At this point, he was desperate.  And look at that face.  Crocodile couldn’t say no to that cute little face.

“Put it this way,” you already started one just above his ear, getting it as tight as you could, “I’ve done this for Buggy a million times.”

“Oh, great,” Crocodile grumbled to himself, “So now, I’m on the same level as the fucking clown.”

“No, no, no,” you knew he was going to take that derogatorily.  Fortunately, you knew how to dig yourself back out of the hole.  By using the stairs, “Crocodile, you can’t do that to me.  Do you know how big of a prissy bitch Buggy is when it comes to his looks?”

“No.  And quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck.”

“You should in this instance,” you kept going, regardless of what Crocodile said, “Because even though it doesn’t seem like it, Buggy is the prissiest bitch when it comes to his looks.  He’s worse than Mihawk and that is a hill I will die on.  If he’s going to perform, he will trust me to do his hair and makeup for the night.  That right there should tell you all my credentials I’ll ever need.  Because he wouldn’t go on if he wasn’t into the look.  I’ve seen it happen.”

“Why don’t I remember this?” Crocodile wondered, finally succumbing to your love and affection.

“You weren’t here,” you explained, “Mihawk either.  Mihawk wanted a drink, so he had gone to the Baratie for the night…And a couple days after.  And you wanted to check up on the rogue Baroque Works agents that still blindly and loyally follow you.  So, it was just Buggy and me home.  And much like teenage children who are left alone while Mom and Dad are gone, Buggy decided to throw a party.  Or, in this case, Buggy decided to put on a show.  His makeup wasn’t setting right.  His hair was a disaster.  And he got super bitchy and I had to be the one to deal with that.”

“Oh…” Crocodile’s face fell, “I’m sorry, Princess.  I didn’t know you had to handle Buggy.  I thought that was the other way around.”

“That’s what he says,” you clarified, tying your first braid off, “But no.  I don’t get that lucky.  I had to deal with his Primadonna ass while he threw a tantrum.  But while he was busy pouting, I was busy fixing.  And by the time he was done with that tantrum, he looked fantastic.  Better than he planned.  And I was the one responsible.  And now, every time something isn’t working right…”

“YN!” Almost as if it were on cue, you heard Buggy’s voice down the hall.

And you let out a heavy sigh of sheer exasperation, “I get to be the one to fix it.  I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Crocodile leaned back in his chair, feeling around the counter for his lighter.  Because nothing would’ve made him feel better quite like a bathroom filled with steam and cigar smoke.

“Thank you,” you snuck a little kiss on his cheek and headed down the hall.  Because the day couldn’t have been more hectic.  And you knew that once Mihawk entered the mix, it was only going to get worse.  And yet, when you walked into Buggy’s room, he was still staring down wardrobe options on the bed, “You call for me, sweetie?”

“I’m torn,” Buggy sighed, “I got nothing.”

“Yes, you do,” you assured him, “You just need to find a way to combine in that makes your sad little brain happy again.”

“You’re not wrong,” Buggy agreed, “But where is that winning combination?”

“It’s somewhere in this pile,” you promised, already halfway out the door, “Love you!”

“Wait a second, YN!” Buggy stopped you, “I called you in here for help.  How am I supposed to do this all by myself?”

“Well,” you suggested, “You pick up one piece of clothing.  Find another one that could go with it.  And hope that sparks some kind of flood of serotonin in you, sad clown.  Ok, love you, bye!”

“But wait!” Buggy took your hand, “What if I need your opinion?”

“Look, Buggy,” you held your face in your hands, “I’m not going to be the one to beat some sense of self-esteem into you.  You don’t need my approval.  You don’t need anyone’s approval but your own.  If you’re into it, then fuck what anyone else has to say.  Has that not been your entire business model since the day I met you?  I’m pretty sure it is.  Now, put on whatever the fuck makes you feel good and call it a day.  Ok?  We got it?  Good.  Wonderful.  Now, again.  Love you, bye!”

“Hold on, doll,” Buggy wrapped his arms around your waist, “I appreciate it.  Thank you.  But you’re still going to give me a pass or fail on it, right?”

“If it gets me out of here quicker,” you nodded, “Yes.  I will.  Just not right now.  I’m in the middle of something.”

“Fine,” Buggy let you go.  But not without a little kiss first, “Love you.  Go on.  Go show someone else all of your attention.”

“Don’t you try and pull that bullshit with me,” you rolled your eyes, “My attention is split three ways and you know it.”

“Ahem…”

“Four…ways…” you growled.  But then, a lightbulb flickered on in your head, “Hey!  Wait a minute, Buggy!  Since Perona’s not helping Mihawk anymore, she can help you!”

“Wait, what?” Perona made herself known a little better.

“Huh?” Buggy was just as lost.

“Hold on, YN,” Perona tried to backpedal, “I didn’t say I was done with-”

“Yeah!” you sang, nudging her forward, “Perona can help you, Buggy.  And she’d be happy to.  Isn’t that right, Perona?”

“No,” Perona scoffed, “No, it’s not.  It’s not right at all.”

“Great,” you praised, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.  Love you both!  Bye!”

And before anyone else could stop you or think about protesting, you left Buggy and Perona alone in Buggy’s room to sort out any outfit dilemma he may have had.  In all honesty, you were grateful Perona’s ego decided to make an appearance.  She gave you an out without even realizing it.  And that meant you getting back to Crocodile a little faster.  It felt like you hardly got to spend any time with him anymore.  Sure, you had your Crocodile weeks, but even those didn’t feel like enough anymore.  And for something so intimate like this where you’re making him feel all better?  You ate this up like it was your bread and butter.

“YN, dear…” But as you told Buggy, your attention was split three (possibly four, but only Perona was counting) ways.  And lucky for you, it was Mihawk’s turn.

“Yes, Mihawk,” you poked your head into his bedroom, “What can I do for you?”

“It’s not necessarily what you can do for me,” Mihawk clarified, a fistful of fabric in his hand, “But what I can do for you.”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” you put a hand to his cheek, “But I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“What?” Mihawk looked at you strangely, “What could you possibly be doing?”

“You’re not the only one in this castle,” you pointed out, “Buggy’s having a wardrobe situation.  Crocodile ran out of gel.  And then, there’s you.”

“The only one not asking something of you,” Mihawk wrapped his arms around you, “The preparations for this party were supposed to be a way to help you relax.  And it’s been nothing but chaos for you.  I’m so sorry, darling.  You deserve better.”

“What I deserve and what I have right now are two different things,” you argued, “But that’s just life.  We don’t always get what we deserve.  And right now, I’m in the middle of fixing that situation for two of the men in my life that I love most.  Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“YN, wait,” Mihawk took your hand, “You’re spending all this energy, all this effort in taking care of them.  What about someone who just wants to take care of you?”

Mihawk’s words hit you like a cannonball.  Because you knew how much you did around the castle.  For Crocodile, for Buggy, even for Perona.  And occasionally for Mihawk, too.  Sure, you wanted to sit down for a while and get off your feet, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the direction life decided to take you.  Instead, you nestled yourself into Mihawk’s chest, “I know you want to help me, Hawky.  And I love you for it.  But I just have one thing I need to finish first.  Then, you can have me all you want.  As long as you promise me one thing.”

“Of course, my love,” Mihawk brought your hand up to his lips, “What is it?”

“That you don’t go overboard,” you shoved a finger in his chest, “I know how you can be.  It seems innocent enough, sure.  YN, let me help you get dressed.  YN, let me do your hair today.  YN, it’s my week.  Let’s go take a bath together.  And then, all of a sudden, I look like I’m ready to femme fatale for the Cross Guild.”

“Be honest, though,” Mihawk smirked a bit, “You do make an excellent femme fatale for the Cross Guild.”

“I do,” you agreed, “But that’s when I’m actually doing femme fatale work.  Not when we’re just spending the day with some downtime in the castle.”

“Alright, alright,” Mihawk backed off, “I understand.  I have a bad habit of going overboard.”

“Thank you,” you got one more kiss from Mihawk, “But I need to go back to Crocodile.  Ok?  Is that something we can both agree on?”

“I suppose so,” Mihawk let you go, “But if he was so pressed for product, he could’ve asked me.  I have a small stockpile that he’s more than welcome to.”

“Probably because he knows you’d go overboard, too,” you giggled to yourself.

“Am I really that bad?” Mihawk scoffed, “Surely not.”

“Just out of curiosity,” you wondered, “This party…You wouldn’t have happened to invite the Strawhats this way, would you?”

“Only one of them.  Why?”

“Ask him,” you smiled a bit, “Ask him when he gets here if you go overboard.  And very carefully, study his expression.  That will tell you all you need to know.”

“Don’t you have another boyfriend to go contend with?” Mihawk knew you were right.  That didn’t mean he wanted to be called out on it.

“Yes, I do,” you stole a quick little kiss and headed back into Crocodile’s room.  For some reason, you had that feeling that this was the end.  That once you were done with Crocodile, you’d finally be able to relax the way Mihawk intended.  You followed the cloud of smoke back to the bathroom.

“Where the hell have you been?” Crocodile asked, much calmer than the last time you saw him.  For a brief moment, you almost wondered if it was more than just a cigar he was smoking.  But you knew better.  Weed was more of a Buggy thing.  Not Crocodile.

“It feels like I’ve been everywhere,” you admitted, twisting your fingers back up in his hair, “Buggy needed me.  Then, Mihawk needed me.  And now, I’m back to where I’m needed most.”

“You are a life saver, YN,” Crocodile cracked a little smile, “Thank you.”

You debated for a moment or two whether or not to tell Crocodile what Mihawk told you.  Did he know Mihawk was well stocked?  Or was this just an excuse for you two to spend a little extra time together?  You may never know.  But you kept Mihawk’s offer to yourself.  Mostly because you had already started.  And you were three braids on the left in already.  You went up another three on the left and then, another six on the right, leaving some of his hair alone on the top.  And once you were done, you knew giving Crocodile some Viking braids was most certainly the move. 

“Well?” you asked, leaning over Crocodile’s shoulders, “I told you.”

“In all honesty,” Crocodile admitted, “I wasn’t expecting to like it.  But I suppose it’ll do.  For tonight, anyway.”

“Bullshit,” you draped your arms around him, getting a little kiss out of him, “You love them and you know it.”

“I love you,” Crocodile took your hands and held them against his chest, “I know that’s for sure.”

“I love you, too.”

“YN!” And yet again, you were summoned.

“Go,” Crocodile insisted, “I know you said Buggy was the bitchy Primadonna, but I don’t want you to have to deal with bitchy Primadonna Mihawk.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” you started heading out and ran down the hall where Mihawk stood in front of a dressmaker’s mannequin, beyond proud of himself with the navy and gold ballgown he put together himself.  Because…Well, it was you.  There was nothing Mihawk wouldn’t do for you.  And the man could put a ballgown together in his sleep, “Mihawk, this is incredible…”

“Thank you, darling,” Mihawk took your hand, “I want you to try it on.  Just to see if there are any adjustments I need to make.”

“Ok.” Very carefully, you slipped the dress on.  Despite that corset making it a bit more difficult to breathe, you weren’t mad about it.  You checked yourself over in the mirror, loving what it was doing for your body, “Mihawk, this…I can’t even begin…”

“Nor can I,” Mihawk gave you a little spin, “Damn, I’m good.”

“Yes, you are,” you gently sat at the edge of his bed.

“It’s such a shame…” he let out a heavy sigh, “I put in all this work and all this effort.  And tonight, you have to go to the fucking clown.”

“Sorry, baby,” you giggled a bit, “Don’t worry.  It’s just a week.”

“Maybe you could sneak across the hall,” Mihawk insisted, “I wouldn’t tell you no.  Who could turn away a pretty face like that?”

“Mihawk,” you put a hand up to his cheek, “You know you have to wait your turn.  It’s Buggy’s week.  Then, it’s yours.  Got it?”

“Very well then,” Mihawk took your hand and brought you back onto your feet, “You really are truly a vision, YN.  You quietly wanted it to be Mihawk’s week already.  However, you also knew that after your bout of being sick, Buggy had a little something special for you.  And you couldn’t wait to see what he had in store for you.  But first, you had to get through this party.

And before you knew it, the party was in full swing.  The music was perfect.  The food was perfect.  Everything was perfect.  Because Mihawk would never allow such a thing.  You had watched as he meticulously planned this party for the last week.  The late nights he spent micromanaging the decoration of the ballroom.  Everything was just the way he wanted.  However, that didn’t mean he could have his perfect night. 

“Heyyyyyy!” a familiar, overexcitable voice broke through the string quartet.  Not only did it put a vein in Mihawk’s forehead, but you watched as it became the thorn in Buggy’s side and pain in Crocodile’s ass, “You threw a party and only invited one of us?  Come on, Hawk guy!  You could’ve invited all of us!”

It had been a while since you saw Mihawk’s protégé.  And you weren’t too terribly upset by the rest of the crew coming along.  You never had any problems with them.  Your boyfriends, on the other hand…That was a different story.  Mihawk wanted nothing more than a nice, classy evening.  And yet, who shows up on his front door but the one and only future king of the pirates himself?

“Monkey D. Luffy,” Mihawk grumbled.  Although, you knew the truth.  Mihawk may not have been able to stand being in the same room as him for long, but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep his ear out for any little scraps of gossip on him, “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my house?”

“This is your house?” Luffy gasped, getting a good look around, “This is a whole castle!  This is so cool!”

“What the hell is he doing here?” Buggy stepped in, “Mihawk, you didn’t do something stupid like-?”

“Of course, I didn’t invite him, you fucking moron,” Mihawk snapped at him.

“What are you doing here?” Crocodile joined them, just as ready to tear into Luffy as the others.

“Hey!” Luffy’s grin was unwavering, “Binky!  Croccy!”

“It’s fucking Buggy, you little shit!” Buggy growled.

“Buggy,” you had to step in before things got ugly, “Play nice.”

“Sorry, Mihawk,” Zoro came in, “I made the mistake of leaving the invitation on the table.  And asking Nami for a ride.”

“You brought this plague upon my home,” Mihawk shot Zoro a glare.

“Hi, YN!” Luffy waved to you.

“Hi, Luffy!” you waved back, pulling on Buggy’s arm, “Excuse us…Crocodile?  Do I need to pull you away, too?”

“I need a snail,” Crocodile walked away on his own accord.  Which, in all honesty, you were impressed with his restraint.

“Who you calling, Croccy?” Luffy wondered.

“A certain revolutionary,” Crocodile stormed off, his heart a little heavy.  You made a mental note to go check on him later.

“Now, you…” You dragged Buggy to the bar and poured both of you a drink, “Here, sweetheart.  For what ails you.”

Without hesitation, Buggy threw back whatever it was you made for him and pulled himself together again, “Thanks, doll.  I needed that.”

“I figured,” you gave him a little kiss right on the end of his nose, “You’ll be fine. It’s just for tonight.  By the end of the night, I’m sure he’ll go back to his ship.”

“I wasn’t expecting a night with the fucking Strawhats, though,” Buggy pouted, taking your drink from you.

“What the hell?” you took your empty glass back, “I don’t remember where I said you could have my drink.  I made that one for me.”

“And now, it’s for me,” Buggy sat down and rested his head in your shoulder, “You know, YN, you and I should find a way to sneak out of this party early.”

“Well,” you started racking your brain for ideas, “I could always say I got my period a week early.”

“So, I’d have to let you be in your room for my week?” Buggy scoffed, “Try again.”

“Dammit,” you went back to the drawing board.  Only for the true bolt of lightning to strike your thoughts, “Hold on.  Why would we have to sneak upstairs?”

“You think Mihawk’s going to just let us waltz upstairs?” Buggy pointed out, “No way.  We need to be down here and sociable apparently.  I’m not thrilled about it either.”

“Well,” you sat in Buggy’s lap, “We could always just say we’re tired.”

“Oh, YN…” Buggy awed, “My dear, sweet, little doll that you are…I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Buggy,” you melted in his embrace, “Where did that come from?”

“We couldn’t say it’s because we’re tired,” Buggy kissed the back of your neck, “It’s your first night with me again.  You really think we’re going to sleep?  Especially with that new little toy I got just for you?  Oh, no, no, no, baby.  That’s not how that’s going to work.  It’s going to be a beautiful disaster to see you come fucking unglued.  It’s going to be a spectacle for an audience of one.  How lucky am I to have the front row seat to that?”

“The luckiest,” you couldn’t keep a smile off your face if you wanted to.  You had a feeling something special was going to go down tonight.  You just didn’t anticipate it being Buggy.  Not that you were complaining in the least bit.  You knew what waited for you.  Somewhat, “You better be a gentleman about it, clown.”

“When you say gentleman,” Buggy moved in a little closer.  Sure, he could be an absolute mess more often than not, but you had to admit…He could flirt like no one else, “You want me carry you over the threshold?  Cuddle you after?”

“I mean, if you come first,” you threatened, “We’re going to have a problem.”

“Ooh,” Buggy clutched his chest, “You know I love when you talk dirty, doll.  What were you thinking?  Torture?  Maiming?  Cutting me up?”

“You are a sick bitch,” you giggled, “Did you know that?”

“What can I say?” Buggy shrugged, “I’m into some things.  Sue me.  But please don’t.  Most of my money ends up going to Croco-douche, so…”

“Hey…” You knew your boys were no strangers to their petty squabbling.  But you weren’t overly fond of them dragging you into it.  Whatever they did amongst themselves was their own business.

“Sorry, YN,” Buggy immediately bit his tongue, “I guess that means I’ve been a naughty boy…”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, “The naughtiest.  And you know what that means?”

“Naughty boys get punished?” you could see Buggy crossing his fingers with anticipation.  That was yours.  That was your clown.  That you agreed to let into your life.  Somewhat.  But that was all yours.

“Naughty boys should get punished,” you left a little kiss on his cheek and started walking out to the dance floor.  Because what better way to punish your naughty boys (who ALL have been naughty in one way, shape, or form this evening) than to cross enemy lines?  And with you spending as much time as you did with Buggy, you were getting a taste for putting on a show.  And you had your eyes on that kid in the straw hat, “Hey, Luffy?”

“Hi, YN!” Luffy perked up, his cheeks almost stuffed to capacity.  But you knew those cheeks could stretch a little more.  He swallowed hard, “How’ve you been?”

“Come with me,” you took his hand and led him to the middle of the floor.

“Ok,” Luffy was a touch confused, but bless his heart, he had the spirit, “What are we doing?”

“You’re helping me enact a little vengeance plan.” The two of you started moving together while a soft, romantic concerto played through the room.  And you could feel it.  Both Buggy and Mihawk were watching intently.  All while Luffy was blissfully ignorant.

“What kind of vengeance plan?” Luffy wondered.

“Well,” you explained.  Because you weren’t totally going to keep Luffy in the dark, “Buggy’s being kind of an ass.  Mihawk’s being kind of an ass.  I’m sure Crocodile’s done something to be kind of an ass.  And if I had to find someone in this room who is public enemy number one to all three of them, who do you think that would be?”

“Probably me,” he assumed.  That’s when all the tumblers fell into place, “Ohhhh.  So, you’re dancing with me to get back at them?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, “Is it a dick move?  Yeah, but it teaches them.”

“Well,” Luffy decided, giving you a little spin, “If you wanted someone who’s a better dancer than me, I could point you in the direction of someone else.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him, getting a quick look at Mihawk and Buggy.  Mihawk and Buggy exchanged glances with Buggy giving Mihawk a little nod.  With a dramatic flourish (because you’d expect nothing less), Mihawk went off to, no doubt, find Crocodile.  You knew better, though.  It was Luffy.  Luffy wasn’t going to do anything stupid.  Nor were you.  At this point, you were merely dancing with a friend.  If they couldn’t accept that, that was on them.

“I’m serious, YN,” Luffy insisted, “If you really want them nervous, he’d be much better than me.”

“I don’t think I could,” you backed off, “Zoro might be pushing it.”

“Who said anything about Zoro?” Luffy scoffed, taking a quick look around the room before his eyes falling on his target, “Hey, Sanji!  There’s a lady that wants to dance with you!”

“Why, hello there, YN,” Sanji apparated in front of you with a rose in hand seemingly out of nowhere.  It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate Luffy coming in clutch for you, but you knew how Sanji could be.  Sure, he wasn’t hard to look at, but he wasn’t your type.  At least not when you had the likes of Mihawk, Buggy, and Crocodile at your disposal.  They ruined you.

“Hello, Sanji,” you took his hand anyway.  You knew this was playing with fire, but you were looking to stoke some flames.  And if all else failed and your boys didn’t want to get their hands dirty (but since it’d be for you, of course, they would in a heartbeat, but in a hypothetical scenario where you weren’t within their eyesight), you knew Zoro would step up for you.  Maybe not necessarily for you, but you two never had a problem with each other.  And Zoro knew Mihawk would see him hung in the courtyard of the castle if he didn’t defend you with his dying breath, “Care to give a girl a dance?”

“It’d be my honor,” Sanji clutched his chest, carefully spinning you around the floor.  And you could see it all over Buggy’s face.  Both he and Mihawk were ready to burn the world down around you.  Not even hesitating to watch Sanji be engulfed in those flames.  But they also weren’t going to cause a scene.  If Mihawk didn’t have Buggy on a metaphorical backpack leash, he would one hundred percent have killed Sanji with no remorse.  With every step, every turn, every spin, you weren’t expecting to enjoy yourself so much.  And with Sanji, of all people. 

“Thank you,” you gave him a little curtsey and started walking off.  You needed somewhere quiet for a while.  Just to recharge.  And the study sounded like a good idea.

“YN,” Mihawk stopped you before you could find your solace, “Are you alright, darling?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gently shaking him off, “But I’ll be right back.”

“Ok,” he let you go.

You wanted some peace and quiet.  And in all honesty, you were hoping Buggy caught the little glance you gave him over your shoulder.  You made your own out.  And as long as Buggy played along, you two would get what you both wanted from the beginning.  Still, you made your way through the castle and into the study.  Although, you weren’t expecting to hear a voice still dripping with bitterness.  Then again, you knew where the nearest communicator snail was. 

“No.  When he’s being a pain in my ass, he’s your son…I don’t care if you’re staging a coup in the North Blue.  Get your ass here and pick up your son!  Oh, look at that!  Father of the year doesn’t want to come back with the milk!  Who would’ve thought…?  Oh, really?  That’s how you’re going to be?  Uh-huh.  See if I ever do that little tongue thing you like ever again…Now, I’m the one playing dirty?  You’re damn right, I am!  And I have every right to!  I had no idea he was going to show up here tonight!  Mihawk’s pissed.  The clown is pissed…And I’ll admit.  Any other time, it’s amusing as hell.  Tonight?  Not one of those times!  Now, like I said before.  Get.  Your revolutionary ass.  To Mihawk’s.  And pick.  Up.  Your.  Son…!  Well, he sure as hell isn’t crashing here!”

“Crocodile…?” you spoke softly, just so you wouldn’t startle him.  And you knew he was riled up enough.

“Shut the fuck up for a second!” Crocodile put the receiver down and tended to you, “Hi, sweetheart.  What are you doing in here?  The party’s downstairs.”

“I’m hot and needed somewhere to recoup,” you told him, “I’ll be ok.”

“YN…” Buggy poked his head in the door, “Sorry.  I couldn’t help but hear the bitching from the hall.”

“Buggy,” you stepped between them before Crocodile could choke him out.

“Alright, alright,” Buggy stopped before things could escalate, “Come on, YN.  I know it’s my week, but I think it’s time I get you to bed, too.”

“But there’s still a whole party downstairs,” you protested.  But in all seriousness, you didn’t want to go back downstairs.

“No,” Buggy scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, “You’re coming with me, young lady.”

“Buggy, put me down!” you started your tantrum, “Put me down!  Put me down!”

“See what I mean?” Buggy turned his attention to Crocodile, “She’s clearly got the tired crankies and needs to go to bed.”

Crocodile picked your chin up and stole a little kiss from you, “I hate to admit it, Princess, but the damn clown is right.  You should go to bed.”

“I’m not tired!” you whined, “I’m fine!”

“YN…” Crocodile lightly scolded you, “Time for bed.”

“What’s going on in here?” Mihawk joined in, catching an eyeful of what you had up your skirt, “Mmm…You look lovely in black lace, YN.”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

“Now, that wasn’t nice,” Mihawk took your face between his hands, “Say you’re sorry, darling…”

“You were just looking up my dress!” you argued.

“Don’t take it personally, Hawky,” Buggy brushed him off, “She’s tired and needs to go to bed.”

“Very well,” Mihawk allowed, “Crocodile, you need to-”

“I’m already on a call,” Crocodile nodded toward the also tired communicator snail, “And I’m sure he’s GETTING AN EARFUL!”

You could’ve sworn you heard laughter on the other end of Crocodile’s call.  But you weren’t going to think too much about it.  Still, you felt Buggy’s hand on your backside.  Not that you were really complaining, but you also weren’t expecting it, “Well, I should probably be getting the little one to bed.  Good night, gentlemen.”

“Good night, Buggy,” Mihawk let him go.  But not without one last kiss from his favorite, “Good night, YN.  Sleep well, darling.”

“I’m not tired, Buggy!” you continued to flail.  And at that rate, you’d be exhausted by the time you got to Buggy’s room.  You squealed and squeaked all the way down the hall.  You weren’t tired!  You didn’t want to go to bed!  You caused such a scene, but you didn’t care.  You knew that if the baby threw enough of a fit, Buggy would do what any decent parent would do.  He’d get you out of the situation.  It wasn’t necessarily the party you wanted to get away from, but the anticipation of starting Buggy’s week was killing you, “I told you to put me down, you son of a-!”

“The door’s shut, doll,” Buggy pointed out as he threw you down onto his bed, “We’re in the clear.”

“Ok,” you let your body go limp, quietly celebrating your success, “So, we did it?”

“We did it, baby girl,” Buggy flopped down next to you, “We did it.”

“Thank God,” you sighed out, immediately kicking your heels off, “My feet were killing me.  Don’t get me wrong, it was nice dancing with Sanji.  And believe it or not, Luffy, too.  But goddamn…Mihawk needs to learn to not put me in heels that high. I was lucky I could walk, let alone dance.”

“About that,” Buggy pulled you into his chest, “What the fuck was that all about?”

“Mihawk told me he wanted me to have a good time tonight,” you explained, “And in order to do that, I needed my boys to have a good time, too.  And I need you not to be so bitchy, but at the same time, I needed you to unclench.  Especially when the Strawhats show up.”

“By the way,” Buggy cut you off, “You may need to take stock of any knickknacks you love and hold dear.  The girl with the tattoo on her shoulder has sticky fingers.”

“Noted.” But you knew Nami wasn’t going to steal from you, “Sanji wasn’t my idea, though.  That was all Luffy’s idea.  But I don’t think he fully understood the ramifications of that.”

“More importantly,” Buggy asked, a little smile on his face, “Would you like to see what I have for you?”

“I’d love to see what you have for me,” you cuddled into him, “What’s my present?”

Buggy turned on one of his spotlights, showing a long spool of ribbon hanging from the ceiling, “That.”

“You got me silks?” you got up from Buggy’s bed and went to go see it for yourself.

“That’s part of it,” Buggy nodded, already running his fingers down the buttons of your dress without even getting up from the bed, “I hope you’re not afraid of heights, YN.  Because I was thinking we give suspension a try.  How are we feeling about that?”

“Hold on,” you thought it over for a moment or two, “Are you saying…Did you get us a sex swing?”

“I might have,” Buggy got up and wiggled your dress down to your ankles.  And he loved what he saw, “Damn, Mihawk was right.  You do look phenomenal in black lace.”

“Not you, too,” you blushed a bit.

“Get in the ribbons, doll,” Buggy ordered, running his finger down your chest and just over your nipples, “Because I’m about to make you put on one hell of a show…”

[y2k-2day]

Madonna - Bedtime Story (1994)

Written by Björk!

[mxchrry]

I just finished the 4.7 archon quest, and I didn't expect it to be so... short?? The lore drop was nice but I honestly expected it to be the length of the "Caribert" quest (correct me if I'm wrong about the length) and we waited over a year for that? Its honestly disappointing. :/

side note: this is only my opinion, everyone is entitled to their own :)

[supernatural-sophia]

Ao3 down? Here is a fic to help you through this tough time

I may have already posted this before but you know what.. sue me

(CH 1) ·:*¨༺ Looking Like You Just Woke Up ༻¨*:·

Dean breathed heavily watching the orange tear appear. He is immediately taken back to the last time Cas died when Jack was born. He remembers cradling Castiel’s lifeless body trying not to cry. Now, similar to last time, Jack is bringing Cas back, but this time he needs help. Dean looks back at his brother, who gives a nod of approval before he steps into the inky darkness.

Dean had no explanation for it, but he knew where to go. Even in walking in a darkness that was the equivalent of having your eyes closed, he knew where Cas was. He kneeled into the ink and grabbed a hand. Bright blue orbs looked upon him with no recognition behind them. Dean wanted to cry out and scream explaining that it was him and this was a rescue, but he knew he had to stay quiet so he wouldn’t wake up the Empty. Dean hulled Castiel’s almost lifeless body over his shoulder and dragged him towards the slowly closing portal. 

Within a few steps to the portal, almost to safety, the angel in Dean’s arms let out a feral scream, instantly waking the Empty up. The angel squirmed in his arms as they stepped out of the portal. Dean looks back seeing the Empty, wearing Meg’s face, screaming about staying out before the portal closes. 

Dean was expecting a mildly upset Castiel, who sacrificed himself for Dean’s safety, but was met with a terrified angel jumping out of his arms and running into a corner, pulling his wings into vision and wrapping them around himself. 

“Cas?” Dean whispered. He wanted a happy reunion. No more big bad, no more hidden feelings, just him and Cas retired on the beach (or more realistically in the bunker). “Jack, what’s going on? Why is he like this?” Dean demanded. 

“I-I don’t know. He was in the empty a lot longer this time. Maybe it messed him up a bit. When I go back to heaven, I can ask other angels to see if they may know,” Jack tried to calm the upset Dean down. It had taken a few days to trick and defeat God, then Jack had to help jump-start heaven back up, which wouldn’t run without a god’s power, then Jack had to find time to talk to a sober Dean, which was almost impossible to do. 

“Great. Just Great,” Dean huffed. He turned his attention back to the quivering angel on the floor, who was peaking up from the wings, bright blue, curious eyes making contact with Dean’s worried, green eyes. “Hey, buddy.” Dean crouched down by the angel. Castiel pushed himself further up against the wall, trying to make himself smaller.  “Cas, do you remember us?” Dean asks. The only response he gets is the wings tightening around the angel. 

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “We don’t know what the Empty really does to angels. He never spoke about his experience before he woke up in the empty. Maybe there was a reason.” Dean only nodded back, trying to figure out what to do to help his angel. “Dean. Give him some space. He’s going to need time.” Dean slowly backed away from his broken best friend. 

“I need a drink,” Dean says before rushing out of the bunker. 

 ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“Thought I wasn’t going to see you today,” the bartender says to Dean, who just grunts back. 

“Just give me the strongest thing you’ve got,” Dean says wiping a hand over his face. 

“Tougher day than normal?” the bartender, named Anthony, asks. “You seemed to have been in a better mood yesterday.” 

“Yeah, well things don’t always go the way we want,” Dean grumbled before starting to drink. 

“No, they don’t,” The bartender sighed. Dean had been coming to this bar every night since they defeated Chuck. As Dean felt the alcohol finally affecting his mind, he became more willing to speak to Anthony, another habit that has happened every night. 

“You know the guy I told you about?” Dean slurred. “Cas.” 

“Yes, I remember. He passed about a year ago now. Is this what this is about? Is it an anniversary or something?” Anthony asked having gotten to know Dean pretty well at this point. 

“No, well, Yes,” Dean answered. “Next week would have been a year.” 

“Would have? Dean, now I don’t want you to do anything stupid. Should I call your brother?” 

“Nah, Sammy knows I’m here,” Dean says before taking another drink. “But, uh, Cas is back. But he’s not the same. He’s all panicked and won’t speak.” 

“He’s back? I thought he was killed in action.” Even when drunk, Dean knew not to spill what he believed. Anthony believed Dean was an honorably discharged soldier and Castiel was someone whom Dean lost overseas. 

“Guess we were wrong,” Dean blushed. Anthony was confused and wondered if Dean was having some sort of episode of PTSD or some kind of break. 

“Huh,” Anthony huffed before walking over to the bar’s phone. 

“Sam Winchester.” 

“Hey, Sam, this is Anthony from the bar. Uhm I think you may need to come and get Dean.” 

“He didn’t start a fight again, did he?” 

“No, I’m just concerned. He seems to believe Cas has come back to life.” 

“Oh yeah.” Sam tries to think of a lie. “Well, once someone has been MIA for long enough they are deemed dead and uh, they found him recently.” 

“So he really is back?” 

“Yeah, but his mind is all kinds of messed up. We think he had been tortured this past year.” There was a pregnant silence before Sam sighed into the receiver. “I should come get him before he drinks himself into a coma. Thanks, Ant.” 

Anthony hears the receiver click. He thought Dean had witnessed Cas’s death and that’s why he was discharged. Maybe he just saw him get captured? Dean only spoke whenever he was drunk, so there was a chance the stories had been fabricated or at least twisted in his mind. 

“Ant!” Dean calls out. “Can you top me off?” He taps his empty glass. 

“Sorry, Dean. You’re cut off for the night. Sam is heading over to pick you up right now,” Anthony explains. 

“Shit. You called Sammy?” Dean slurred. 

“You need to have someone take care of you, Dean.”

“Nah. I know how to handle myself. I’m not my father,” Dean huffed. Anthony had never heard Dean mention his father. He had heard his mother had died when he was young and he lived on the road with Sam but never mentioned his father, who apparently was an alcoholic. After some nonsense mumbling by Dean, the bell above the door rang, showing Sam and a young man next to him. 

“Dean?” The boy asked. 

“Shit, Sammy. Why did you bring Jack?” Dean complains. 

“Because you are on your best behavior when he is around and I wasn’t sure what version of you I would find,” Sam explains, earning an eye roll from Dean. Usually, when Sam had to come to get Dean from the bar, it was an extremely angry Dean who would fight Sam the whole way home, but sometimes, when Anthony is especially concerned like today, Sam would find a mopy Dean. 

“Thanks, Ant,” Dean huffed sarcastically slapping his money onto the table before Sam slipped Anthony a large tip. 

Dean stayed quiet the whole ride home, which was not an uncommon experience for Sam by now but Jack was getting antsy. 

“Dean, do you want me to remove the alcohol from your system?” Jack asked. 

“No,” Dean practically laughed at the statement. “I worked hard to get this kind of numbness.” Jack looked at Sam confused. Sam sent a mental prayer to Jack explaining that Dean had just enough alcohol to make him more honest than normal. Jack still didn’t understand but decided to drop it. 

They opened the bunker door to find that Castiel was not in the same spot he was when they left. 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean said, stumbling down the stairs. 

“Not sure. Probably wandering around the bunker,” Sam responded, not showing Dean that he was worried that Cas wasn’t there. There was a clatter in the kitchen causing Dean to stick straight up, losing his buzz. He pulled his gun out and sneaked into the kitchen to find the angel on top of a counter holding random items from the kitchen. 

Dean just watched, not alerting the angel of his presence, as the angel sniffed all the items in his hand, deciding he didn’t want them he dropped them onto the floor, on top of other miscellaneous objects. 

“Hey, buddy. Whatcha looking for?” Dean said, slowly entering the kitchen. Big blue eyes blinked at him before the angel sniffed the air and hopped off the counter. The angel opened another cabinet gathering the items from inside it and scurried back towards the counter. He sniffed each item carefully before dropping all but one: a box of Cheerios. 

“What? You want cereal?” Dean asked again only receiving a stare before the angel disappeared with the sound of wings flapping behind him. 

“Shit,” Dean said before running back to the war room, where Sam and Jack were speaking in hushed tones. If Dean wasn’t in such a panic, he would have poked fun at them, but he had more important things on his mind. “Did you guys know that Cas’s wings work?” He breathed heavily. 

“Shit, no,” Sam says before standing up quickly. “Where do you think he went?” 

“How should I know? He was crawling around the kitchen like an animal, he found a box of cereal, then vanished,” Dean explained annoyed. 

“He’s still in the bunker,” Jack said with confidence. “I can feel him.” 

“I’ll start checking the bedrooms. Sam, you check libraries and hidden rooms behind them. Jack, you should probably get back to heaven in case he tries to flee there. The other angels are not a fan of him so we need to keep him safe,” Dean explained before taking off down the hallway. 

Opening every door behind him, he reaches his own room. He opens the door slowly, having a feeling Cas was in there. 

“Cas, buddy?” Dean says peaking his head into his room and being met with bright blue eyes. “Hey.” Dean smiles. The angel doesn’t flee but doesn’t come closer. “Do you want help?” Dean reached for the closed box of Cheerios, which now looked beaten up. The angel clutched the cereal close to himself, not wanting to lose his new possession. “I’ll give them back. I’ll just open them,” Dean says miming the motions. 

The angel looks at him, thinking about whether he should give Dean a chance. Slowly he sets the box down and slides it across the floor towards Dean, who opens it with ease. Dean poured the Cheerios into his hand before putting one into his mouth. He then held his hand out for Castiel to do the same. The angel stuck his tongue out like an animal before licking the Cheerios in Dean’s hand. Dean stood there frozen and unsure what to do before he heard Sam calling for him panicked. He put the Cheerios onto the floor and then walked out slowly, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door latched, Dean pulled his gun out and sprinted down the hallway. 

“Dean!” Sam called out again. Dean froze as he entered the room. Another figure stood in the library. 

“Don’t move,” Dean said aiming his weapon at the stranger. 

“Now, Dean,” Chuck’s voice came from behind Dean in the hallway. “Is that the best way of greeting dear old Dad?” 

(CH 2) ·:*¨༺ Father ༻¨*:·

“Chuck?” Dean turned around. “What are you doing here? You lost.” Dean demanded, aiming his gun at the man’s head. Chuck laughed. 

“I couldn’t give up on my story. So what my powers are dampened? I can do a few miracles here and there. My favorite pastime in waiting for my grace to recharge is writing my books. And no offense. You guys were getting boring. Yeah, you guys got Cas back, which, ugh,” Chuck rolls his eyes. “But I want something with more conflict. I don’t have enough grace to make a new monster, so I brought an old one back.” His grin was evil as he spoke. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Dean cut him off. 

“Look as much as I love a villain’s monologue, you are not welcome here. Get out. I’ll call Amara down,” Dean said flat. Chuck paled. 

“You don’t have access to her. You’re bluffing.” 

“Wanna test that theory?” Dean quipped back. Chuck huffed and disappeared. Dean rolled his eyes before turning back around, being reminded of the other intruder. “Sammy get down,” Dean said moving his aim back to the intruder. Sam stayed still. 

“Dad?” Sam whispered. Dean walked closer to the intruder, his aim not faltering. 

“Where the hell am I?” the unmistakable voice called out. “Dean, drop the damn gun and stop aiming at me like I’m some monster,” John commanded. Dean’s heartbeat quickened, but he didn’t drop his gun. 

“You’re not him. He died over a decade ago,” Dean barked. “What are you?” The man paused for a moment, eyes squinting and going back in forth between his two sons. 

“A decade?” He asks. 

“Sammy, get Jack.” 

“Who the hell is Jack? You got other hunters here?” John called out. Sam stayed frozen still staring at his father. “You going to keep staring at me or are you going to do what your brother asked you to do?” He barked at Sam, knocking him out of the trance he was in. 

Sam closed his eyes and started saying something under his breath that John couldn’t hear. 

“Have you lost your mind, boy?” John yelled again before a young boy walked into the room. His eyes glanced up toward him and Sam turned around mouthing thank you. 

“Is it him?” Sam breathed heavily. Jack nodded slowly. 

“He’s not a monster as far as I can tell. Nor angel, nor demon. He’s just a human,” Jack said quietly. After a pause, he walked up to Dean. “Dean, you can drop your gun. It is him.” 

Dean slowly lowered his gun but didn’t put it away. 

“You’re taking orders from some kid?” John asked. 

“God, please tell me I passed out at the bar and this is just some fucking nightmare,” Dean said running a hand over his face. 

“Dean this isn’t a dream,” Jack said matter of factly. “Did you find Cas?” 

“Shit, Cas,” Dean says taking off back down the hallway. 

“You boys got a girl here?” John asked. Sam finally spoke to his father for the first time since he had appeared. 

“Uh, no. Cas is short for Castiel. He’s uh, Jack’s adoptive dad,” Sam says not meeting his father's eyes, knowing the moment he did, the rage would come out of both of them and they would start arguing. 

“What is he a queer or something?” His dad huffed. “That why he likes being called a girl’s name?” 

Sam ignored his father and turned to Jack who looked confused. “Hey, Jack, I think it’s time for you to leave again.”

“Why? I just got here?” Jack whined. 

“You remember how Dean was earlier today? At the bar? Well, he is probably going to be worse tonight. I don’t want you seeing that,” Sam said with a low voice. 

“You said I could help last time. You said he behaves better when I’m here,” Jack continued whining. You could hear John scoffing in the background, talking about the boys going soft on him. 

“Yeah, but that was about Cas. This one is-” Sam looked back at his father who was glaring at him. “Different. I’ll call you tomorrow if it’s uh, okay to come home, okay?” 

“Okay,” Jack sighed. Sam leaned in and whispered into Jack’s ear telling him to not fly until he was out of the bunker so as to not upset John. Jack moped the whole way out of the bunker, constantly looking back at Sam to change his mind, who just shook his head. 

“What the hell was that?” John yelled the moment the door closed. 

“Look can you just calm down?” Sam started. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but just give me a minute to think of what to do.” 

“Where did Dean go?” John asked, slightly calmer, but irritation still noticeable in his tone. 

“He’s taking care of Cas,” Sam sighed. 

“Oh, so your brother is taking care of a man who has a child that it seems like you are taking care of? I’d just kick him to the curb,” John snorts. 

“Well, Cas just, uh,” Sam thought of the lie he told the bartender and thought something similar would work. “Look, Cas just got back from the equivalent of being a POW and he is not doing well. He’s super skittish and won’t even talk to anyone right now. Dean is usually the one who gets through to Cas the fastest, so he’s taking care of him right now.” 

Sam watched as different thoughts went through his father's head before his face softened. It was something weird for Sam to see, who only saw his father’s stone-cold face. 

“He’s a veteran?” his father asked quietly. “I might be able to help. I had a rough time adjusting after Vietnam.” John had a faraway look in his eyes, like the one he would have had if he had mourned Mary properly.  He blinked then headed for the hallway Dean went down. 

“Dad, wait,” Sam grabbed his Dad’s arm. “Cas is, well, different. Things have changed a lot since you died. I just don’t want you to flip out when you see him.” 

“What, is he black or something? Sammy, that thing doesn’t matter to me. You’re acting like I died in the 60s,” his dad chuckled a bit. 

“Look,” Sam takes a deep breath. “Cas is an angel. Castiel is his full name. The ending is a part of his angel identity.”

“What is angel some way of saying he’s like slow or something?” His dad asks. 

“No, like Angel with a capital A. Warrior of God on wings.” 

“Angels aren’t real. I would have come across one by now,” John scoffed. 

“They hadn’t walked on earth in like a millennia before a few years ago. We’ve fought demons. How hard it is to believe the opposite of those exist?” Sam proposed. 

John sat and debated. He wondered if his sons had lost their minds or if some demon tricked them into taking care of it. John looked up as he heard a door close quietly and footsteps came down the hall. The look on his eldest son’s face was one of exhaustion. He no longer had the young, pretty face John had teased him about. He had the look of a man who had seen things no one should see. John felt slightly proud, thinking his son must have gotten that look by protecting people and killing monsters. 

“He’s sleeping, Sam,” Dean said not acknowledging their father’s presence. 

“Really?” Sam said surprised. 

“What, you two are surprised some traumatized man is sleeping?” Or demon pretending to sleep he thought to himself. 

“Sammy, I don’t know what to do. He hasn’t slept since Metatron,” Dean sighed, still ignoring his father. 

“He’ll bounce back. He always does,” Sam reassures Dean. 

“I need a drink,” Dean said. 

“Dean, come on. I need your head in the game,” Sam tried, but Dean kept walking towards the door. “This isn’t what Cas would want.” Sam used the “Cas Card” that he knew would stop Dean. 

“Fine. But I’m getting a beer. You want one?” Dean says towards their father. 

“Oh, so now you notice me. What’s so important about this Cas that you don’t acknowledge me?” John inquired. 

“So is that a no on the beer?” That is all Dean responded with. 

“What has gotten into you?” His dad barked at him. Dean just walked towards the kitchen and then came back with three beers. He sighed as he sat down across from his dad, sliding the beers over to Sammy, then John. 

Dean takes a long swing before asking, “What all does he know?” to Sam. 

“Nothing,” Sam shrugged. 

“What all could I have missed that I now know ‘nothing,’” John huffed. 

“So fucking much,” Dean signed before starting his story. 

(CH 3) ·:*¨༺ Are You Afraid of God? No, but I’m afraid of you ༻¨*:·

John sat there and surprisingly had no outbursts. 

“Then Chuck brought you back because he is bored,” Dean finished. 

“And Chuck is…”

“God, yeah,” Sam finished his dad’s sentence. They all sat there in silence before John huffed. 

“Bull,” Is all he said. 

“I wish,” Dean laughed. 

“You guys died like ten fucking times in that story. I don’t know who you boys think you are fooling with that nonsense. Like either one of you could survive Hell,” John raged. 

Dean just stood up and showed the handprint burned into his shoulder. “I’m going to go check on Cas again.” 

Sam looked at his phone for the 100th time during that conversation. 

“Oh, and Sammy? Just tell Eileen to come over. She might be able to help with Cas’s situation. Maybe he could sign to her or something,” Dean said walking off. 

“Eileen?” John raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, uh, we met on a hunt a while ago,” Sam started blushing, giving away his feelings for her. 

“A female hunter, huh? They sure are hard to get along with,” John laughed. 

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you had plenty of experience with Mom,” Sam replied, instantly realizing what he had said. “I mean- uhm,” 

“What is that supposed to mean? Your mother had no idea,” John paused. “Wait. How did I not notice before? The necklace she wore, her parents always on deer hunts,” John started going through his relationship with Mary. “How did you know?” 

That was the question Sam dreaded hearing. How does he explain that Mary hates John for bringing her kids into this world? How does he explain that she’s off, hunting monsters?

“Sam. I asked you a question.” Sam looked like he was about to flee. “I know you are keeping something from me. Not a very good liar anymore, I see,” John whispered under his breath. 

“Hold on, let me make a phone call,” Sam jumped up and ran into the kitchen. 

“Pick up, Pick up, Pick up,” John could hear Sam saying as he snuck close to the kitchen. 

“Sam, what’s wrong?” John knew that voice. That voice was always in his head. 

“Something big happened,” Sam responded. 

“I heard from Jack. I know Cas is back,” John could hear Mary smile through the phone. “He and Dean talk yet?” John wants to know what Mary could be implying what John thinks she’s implying. That Cas must be some queer who’s been messing with Dean’s head. 

“Uh, no not yet. There have been some complications, but that’s not what I called about. Gosh, how do I say this?” Sam asks. 

“Usually using words,” Mary jokes, sounding worried. 

“Dad’s back.” 

“Oh.” John thought his wife might be more excited to hear he was back. “Do you know why? Did you check to make sure it was him? Jack wouldn’t do that would he?” John was getting worried. Mary sounded upset that he was alive. 

“Uh, no, Mom. Chuck brought him back. We had Jack check him out. He’s at the least human but we’ve been talking for a while and I know it’s Dad,” Sam explained. 

“Should I come back?” 

“After your hunt is finished. Don’t leave Garth hanging.” Mary was hunting? John was starting to almost panic. Who is this Garth guy? Did Mary replace him? 

“He sure is an oddball huh? Don’t know how his wife puts up with it,” Mary laughs. 

“Yeah, Give him a hug for me. It will make his day.”

“I’ll be back to the bunker soon. Bye, Sam,” 

“Bye, Mom.” 

John quickly rushed back to where he was sitting. Mary was alive. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to hear anything about her from Sam. He got up as Sam came out of the kitchen. 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. 

“To talk to Dean,” John grumbled. 

“Look, I don’t think you’re ready to meet Cas. He definitely isn’t ready to meet anyone new,” Sam tried to explain but his father wasn’t listening. John just stomped down the hallway until he came across a door that had the words “DEAN’S ROOM” scribbled on in crayons with different stickers around the letters. 

John didn’t bother to knock, he just opened the door to see Dean cradling a man with wings, singing to him. Dean was in a whole other world, not noticing his father standing in the doorway. John didn’t know what made him angrier, seeing his son holding a monster or a man. 

“DEAN!” John boomed causing the angel to jump up and curl into the corner of the room, covering himself with his wings. 

“Shit. Didn’t we tell you he’s got something wrong with him? Why would you yell at him?” Dean got up into his father’s face. “Why didn’t you just fucking listen to me?” Dean pushed his father out of the room, following him out and closing the door behind him. Dean stormed away shaking with anger. He had just gotten Cas to finally calm down enough for Dean to be with him. 

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” John yelled after Dean. Dean turned around, gun touching his father’s head. 

“If you can’t quiet down, I will pull the trigger,” Dean threatened, clicking the safety off. 

“You aren’t man enough to do that,” John said in a low tone. 

“Then why are you whispering?” Dean said clicking the safety back onto his gun and putting it into the hem of his jeans. He sighed before turning back around to speak to his stunned father. “Look there is a shit tone of rooms you can stay in. If you plan on being loud, it can’t be in this hallway. I can’t risk it with Cas. Just don’t pick one that has a name on it. Jack will be upset.” 

“What about Mary’s room?” John huffed. Dean froze. 

“You saw that?” Dean itched his head. “I wouldn’t honestly. Jack is a weird kid and I don’t know how he will feel about you breaking “the room rules” as he calls it. Where is Jack anyway?” Dean glares down at his father. “You didn’t say any bullshit to him did you?” 

“Why would you think that? Sam is the one who kicked him out. Said something about you being a drunk,” John crossed his arms across his chest. Dean took a deep breath before closing his eyes and mumbling something. 

“I’m glad you’re okay!” The young boy appeared out of thin air and gave Dean a big hug. 

“Yeah, Jack. It’s getting late and my dad needs a room to sleep in. Will you pick a room and make him a sign?” Jack jumped up and down before running over and hugging John who couldn’t look more terrified. 

“I’m glad you are good like Mary! With some of the things Dad said, I thought you would be like my father,” Jack says before letting go and running down the hall to get art supplies. 

“You let a demon near Mary?” His dad growled. 

“Jack’s not a demon. He’s a Nephilim. Half angel half human.” Dean tried to explain. 

“Oh, so that makes it better? You are playing house with a couple of monsters.” 

“Things have changed a lot since you left,” Dean said

“So you keep saying.” 

“If you have a problem with it, you can leave okay? I’m dealing with too much right now to deal with your shit,” Dean sighed before walking towards the kitchen to grab another beer. 

“You got anything stronger than this shit beer?” John huffed after looking into the fridge. A look of shame appeared on Dean’s face for a split second that the only person who would have been able to catch it would have been Cas. 

“Ah, no. I wish. You will have to go to the bar about 20 minutes away. Closest one there is. Tell Anthony you want the Winchester special. He will give you something strong,” Dean chuckled slightly to himself. 

John and Dean sat in silence drinking their beers, anger radiating off of both of them. Finally, Dean gets up saying he’s going to bed. 

“With that monster in your room?” John scoffs. 

“Yep.” 

“You got nothing more to say for yourself?” 

“Nope.” Dean walked out of the kitchen, into his room, and locked the door behind him. “Hey, Cas.” 

“Hey, Cas,” the angel repeated. Dean smiled down at the man he loved. 

“I’m going to bed. You need anything?” The angel shook his head. Dean was glad his dad’s outburst didn’t revert any of the progress he had made. “Do you want a pillow or, fuck it, you can climb into bed with me and sleep.” 

“No sleep,” Castiel croaked out, his voice scratchy. “Watch.” 

Dean smiled remembering the times he told Cas to stop doing that and now here he is, happy that he is doing it. “Night, Cas. I love you,” Dean whispered into the darkness. 

(CH 4) ·:*¨༺ Be Nice to Me ༻¨*:·

Mary arrives at the bunker in the early morning. She drove all night, as soon as she finished the hunt, to get home. She wasn’t surprised to see Dean working on his car and Sam leaving for a run. 

“Hey, Mom.” Dean smiled getting out from under the car. “Did Sammy tell you the news?” Mary just nodded before going in to hug her son. 

“You might want to go for a drive,” She whispered. “I doubt this will be pretty.” 

“I can’t. It’s not safe for Cas,” Dean explains. Mary nods understanding. “He’s messed up, mom. I know it’s only been a day out of the empty, but he’s never been like this. Not even when he took on Sam’s trauma from the Cage. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Stay. Be there for him. He will get better. Good things do happen,” Mary smiles. “Ready for the shit show?” 

They walked into the bunker finding John in the kitchen. John gasped and stood up to hug Mary, who slapped him across the face. 

“John Winchester. I did not sacrifice my life for you to take our children onto the road, teach them about the horrors of the hunter’s world, and abuse them. You were a great father. What the hell happened?” Mary yelled. John stood there stunned. 

“Mary, I did the best I could. I was a wreck after you died,” John tried to explain. 

“Yeah. Well now, so are your children. Both have gone to hell, Sam lost his soul at one point, Dean became a demon, and now I hear you are upset about the angel who just got back from the Empty, comply traumatized. What do you have to say for yourself?” Mary demanded. 

“Well that ‘angel’ over there is turning Dean into a queer,” John huffed as if that was some sort of defense. Mary stopped and turned to Dean. 

“You guys finally got together?” She gasped. Dean stood there pale. He didn’t tell anyone about Cas’s confession or his reciprocation of those feelings. 

“I-I- Uh, No. What do you mean finally?” Dean sputters. 

“Oh,” Mary says disappointed. “I thought-” She turned back over to John. 

“Those boys aren’t even together. What makes you say they are queer?” Mary asked John, disgust pointed towards him. 

“I saw Dean holding him,” John is turning red, embarrassed to be scolded by Mary. 

“He just came back to life! He’s been dead for a year! Can’t Dean miss someone? Can’t Dean comfort an upset friend without you getting your panties in a twist?” Mary yelled. “Apologize to Dean right now.” 

“Mary-” 

“Now.” 

“Dean, I’m sorry for being rude to your friend. Sam told me he was like a recently found POW and I proceeded to yell at him. I apologize.” 

Dean stood there in utter shock. He had never, ever seen John apologize for anything. He’d never seen anyone speak to him like that. Dean slowly nodded before leaving to go check on Cas. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said stepping into their room. 

“Hey, Cas,” the angel repeated back. 

“You know, my name is Dean. Your name is Cas,” Dean let out a small laugh. 

“Dean,” the angel smiled. Dean’s heart fluttered hearing the familiar voice. Castiel walked over to Dean, grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the bed. “Sit.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Dean joked as he sat down on top of the bed. Castiel sat at Dean's feet and then laid down. “You okay Cas?” 

“Dean. Watch. Cas. Sleep,” He said in his broken English. Dean smiled. 

“Okay, Cas. I’ll watch over you.” 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“What the hell was that all about?” John asked after Dean disappeared behind his door. 

“Look, John,” Mary sighs. “Everyone knows Dean and Cas are close. Everyone knows they have feelings for each other. Everyone except them. It was hard for me at first too. I mean, Castiel is an angel. Hard for me to adjust to the fact that Sam and Dean keep a few monsters alive because it benefits them in the long run, but the world is different now. AND. Cas makes Dean happier than I’ve ever seen him since I’ve been back.” 

“Dean’s never been a fag before. Why is he one now? Ever think that the angel is playing tricks on Dean’s brain?” John argued. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, John. I’ve seen Cas do things for Dean that I don’t think you would even do for me. How Dean hasn’t realized they have practically been in a committed relationship for a little less than a decade? I don’t know. But what I do know is that they are good for each other and as a mother, that's all I care about. It should have been what you cared about too.” Mary turns to leave the kitchen and go to her room. 

“Mary? Do you still love me?” John asks quietly. 

“I don't know John. You have done a lot of things I don’t know if I will be able to forgive.” 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“Winchester Special,” John says to the bartender. 

“Dean, I already told you. You’re cut off-” Anthony turns around. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize other people ordered that.” 

“My son told me about it,” John frowns. Anthony turns around and mixes the bar's strongest whiskeys together. 

“So, what’s on your mind?” John shakes his head. “Nope. Part of the Winchester Special is you got to talk.” 

“And he does that?” John laughs. 

“Every time. Some people just need someone to talk to, and a strong drink,” Anthony winks. 

“Guess I don’t know my son at all. Never in a million years would I have thought he would spill his guts after one drink.” 

“Is Dean…?” Anthony pauses, not sure if it is a good idea to pry into Dean’s mysterious father. “Are you Dean’s dad?”  

“The one and only,” John huffs taking another swig. 

“You know yesterday, he mentioned you for the first time. I didn’t even know you were active in his life,” Anthony mumbles that last part. 

“I-I’m really not,” John says. “Saw him for the first time in over 10 years, yesterday. Looks like an entirely different person.” 

“Yeah well, war can do that to you. Did you meet Cas? I heard he just got back from a POW camp,” Anthony asks. John quickly caught onto Dean’s cover story. Maybe Dean was smarter than he thought. 

“Uh, Kinda. Got in trouble with the wife for not being kind enough. She yelled at me for being prejudiced,” John huffed again. “Back when I was in the military, we didn’t let sissies like him in. Now apparently he and my boy are together or some shit,” John shoots the last of his drink down and Anthony fills the cup back up. 

“Yeah, I kinda always assumed. The way Dean talks about him. It’s just very telling. I’m glad he’s back though. Dean hasn’t been here at all today.”

“He here often?” 

“Often enough to get a special,” Anthony replies. John thinks about that for a moment. After realizing that the bartender was proud of Dean for not being there just for the day, a thought popped into his head. 

“He here every day?” the bartender nods. 

“For almost a year. The anniversary of Cas, uh, going missing I guess, is coming up. I thought he had died by the way Dean spoke about him sacrificing his life for him, but I guess Dean just assumed he died.” 

“Sacrificing his life?” John asked. 

“Oh, if Dean was drunk enough he would talk about the moment it happened. It never made much sense, but he would always end up pissed about the event. I’d usually have to call his brother after that.” John nodded. 

“What did he say happened?” John asked. Maybe the bartender thought it was just nonsense, but maybe it was a supernatural event John could decode. 

“Oh, something about Death around the corner. Sometimes it was a woman around the corner, depending on the day. Then Cas pushed Dean out of the way, saving him. He says everything went black after that, and there wasn’t a body to bury. I kinda always assumed it was a bomb, but I don’t know.” 

“Huh,” John said. 

“Look, I wouldn’t bring it up to Dean. He always gets worked up about it and with him not going home drunk right now, I don’t want you to push him over. I know Sam won’t buy him any more liquor because I’ve heard Dean complain about it.” Anthony walks away after that, mid-speech to go help another customer. 

John leaves his cash on the counter and heads back to the bunker with a lot on his mind. 

(CH 5) ·:*¨༺ Alcoholics don’t get far unless they drink and drive  ༻¨*:·

John woke up with a headache. He checked the clock and it was later than he would ever let himself sleep. He stretched to get out of bed, hearing voices in the kitchen. 

Cas had been following Dean around since he got up. He no longer had his wings out, making him able to wear his trenchcoat again. He hadn’t said anything all morning, even though Dean was trying to coax words out of him. Mainly Cas just rolled his eyes, but there was this look in Dean’s eyes that just begged him to say something. Cas heard footsteps enter the kitchen. 

“Dean,” he says as the rest of the members at the table, Jack, Sam, Mary, Eileen, and Dean, all cheered. “Dean,” Cas repeated jutting his chin towards the door. The table turned and silence fell into the room. 

“Don’t stop celebrating on my account,” John mumbled. 

“John! John! Castiel just spoke! In front of all of us!” Jack was vibrating with excitement. “He’s getting better!” John just nodded and went over to the coffee machine. 

“No,” Cas said. John turned around, looking offended. 

“No what, Cas?” Dean asked softly. 

“No. Dean’s.” 

“What the coffee?” Dean clarified. He received a nod from the angel. “He can have some coffee. It’s okay, Cas.” Dean could tell Castiel said something, but couldn’t understand. 

“Castiel!” Jack gasped. Everyone’s attention went to Jack. 

“What? What did he say?” Dean asked a bit too excitedly. 

“Well, Enochian isn’t a perfect language and it’s hard to translate,” Jack responded. “But he pretty much said I don’t want the scum of the earth taking the gifts it serves.” Jack is met with more blank stares. “It’s an insult to your father,” Jack said quietly sinking into his chair. 

“Ohhh,” the whole table understood. 

“What’s his problem with me?” John asked. Sam and Dean made eye contact and tried to change the subject. 

“So, Cas can speak Enochian. Is he just struggling with English, you think?” Sam asked. 

“Hey, I asked a question,” John slammed his hand on the table. Castiel jumped up and pinned John against the wall. 

“Cas, get off of him,” Dean says with no urgency. Castiel just growled. 

“What is he some sort of guard dog?” John poked. 

“Cas, come on now. Dad’s trying his best. Let him down,” Dean tried again. 

“No.” 

“Why, Cas?” Dean asked annoyed, standing up to move the angel. 

“Protect.” John burst out laughing at the angel’s response. 

“Wow, you boys have gone soft. Need a monster to protect you?” John snapped. 

Dean just sighed. “Hey Cas? Look at Eileen,” Dean needed to get Cas’s attention somewhere else. Dean spelled “sign 4 me” to Eileen. She agreed with a nod. “Watch her hands Cas. John is not a danger. You can let him go. It is okay.” 

Cas watched intensely as Eileen signed what Dean had just said. Cas nodded and let go of John before wandering off. Dean signed thank you, sighed heavily, and then grabbed his mug. 

“I’ll go follow him. Make sure he’s not destroying another room.”

“Hey, Dean. What is your guard dog's problem with me?” John stood in front of Dean, blocking the doorway. 

“Look, you want to call him a dog fine. I’ll use dog terms. Cas is territorial and overly protective. Better?” Dean says taking another sip of his coffee. His dad moves out of the way. 

“I can never get a straight answer from that kid anymore,” John huffed. 

“Like father like son,”  Sam signed to Eileen, who laughed. 

“What? What did you say?” John asked sounding almost panicked. 

“Don’t worry about it, John. They have been doing that all morning,” Mary rolls her eyes before getting up to rinse her mug out. “No one knows what they are saying.” 

“I do,” Jack says causing Sam to get a bright pink blush across his face and Eileen to burst out into Laugher. 

“What did they say?” John asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“They said like father like son,” Jack signed as he spoke. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John turns to Sam. 

“Like you don’t remember that 90% of our arguments were because you wouldn’t give straight answers because everything was on a need-to-know basis,” Sam shrugs his shoulders. 

“Seems like Dean’s got a few things in common with me then. Talked to some guy named Anthony last night,” John lead. 

“Dad, Dean says a lot of stuff when he’s drunk. Don’t believe everything Ant says about him,” Sam sighs. 

“Wait, I thought you said when Dean gets drunk he is more likely to tell the truth?” Jack said confused. 

“Hey, Jack buddy. This is an adult conversation. Let’s go find Dean and your Dad,” Mary says calmly leading Jack out of the kitchen. Eileen followed them out, leaving just Sam and John in the kitchen. 

“Why did you tell me the same cover story that Dean told Anthony?” John asked. 

“I didn’t know what to say to describe what happened to him. The Empty is a hard thing to comprehend and we don’t know much about it,” Sam explained. 

“Well, try. I’m tired of being left out of things.” Sam scoffs again at his father. 

“Funny how things change,” Sam frowns. “Look the Empty is where angels go when they die. From how it has left Cas, clearly, it’s no heaven.” 

“Is it darkness?” John asked quietly. 

“What?” Sam replied. 

“Is it black? So black you can’t see?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you know that?” Sam asked. 

“That Anthony is a chatterbox. Careful what secrets you tell him.” With that, John stood up and left the kitchen. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

When John left the kitchen, everyone was in the library. He headed in that direction. I need Dean alone, without the angel. Dean was reading a book out loud, while Castiel sat next to him and listened. John could tell by the cover it was the Wizard of Oz. 

“Do you remember meeting Dorthy? Charlie had a thing for her,” Dean smiled fondly at the memory. 

“Who’s Charlie?” Jack asked. 

“Oh Jack, you would have loved her. She was like a little sister to me. She had fiery red hair and superhuman hacking skills,” Dean explained as if he were talking about a character from a story. “She loved to play pretend and one time made me and Sam play with her. She was a queen and we were knights.” 

“Saved Dean,” Castiel added on. 

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said leaning his head up against the angel. “She did save me.” Dean picked the book back up and continued reading the story to Cas and Jack. It was such a domestic scene that John was observing. It made him angry that Dean was acting like this. John didn’t get to have this with his family, why should they? It wasn’t the life he had planned for Dean. Sam? Maybe, but he never would have imagined Dean to settle down. 

John took another step forward and Dean sat straight up, no longer laying on the angel, whose eyes were closed.  

“Dean. Lay.” Cas said without opening his eyes. Dean stared at his father before slowly laying back down on Castiel. John scoffed and walked away. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

John decided that the best way to get information out of Dean would be to get him drunk. He needed to hear it out of Dean’s mouth that he was in love with the angel and the angel wasn’t just forcing him with his powers. John left and drove almost an hour away from the bunker to a store. 

He bought his favorite whiskey. When checking out the cashier spoke to him. 

“Huh. Are you hanging out with Dean Mercury? He’s the only person who ever buys this stuff,” the cashier said. 

“Uh yeah. He’s my son,” John replied. 

“I can see the resemblance. How’s he doing? I haven’t seen him in some time.” 

“He’s doing well,” is all John says before snagging the whiskey from the cashier's hands as soon as he takes the cash. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

It was around 8 o'clock by the time John got home. Dean was still on the couch in the library reading, but the angel nor the kid was in sight. 

“Don’t let Sammy see that. He will make you take it back,” Dean huffed after seeing the bottle. 

“You wana drink?” John asks. Dean jumps up off the couch. 

“Let's go to the Dean cave,” Dean smirks. Finally, something he and his dad can’t argue on. Alcohol. Dean will put an old western on and they can just sit and be together. 

John followed behind Dean and closed the door behind him. Dean pulled a poster off the wall revealing alcohol and glasses. “Don’t tell Sam or I will shoot you,” Dean says. He set the glasses on the coffee table and started searching for the remote. 

“Must be nice to not have that angel breathing down your neck for a few minutes huh?” John tried to break this case open as fast as he could. 

“Nah. I don’t mind Cas being like that. I gave up years ago teaching him personal space. Even before the Empty, he was a weird guy.” John watched Dean smile to himself talking about the angel. “Aha! Found it!” Dean says finding the remote in the couch cushions. John starts pouring the whiskey into the glasses. 

“Woah, trying to get me drunk here old man?” Dean teased taking the nearly full glass and shooting it back like it was nothing. “Filler back up while I find a good movie.” Dean settled on the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly after scrolling through his recently watched which was full of mainly Cowboy movies with the occasional nature documentary (Thanks Cas). 

Not halfway through the movie, Dean had drunk enough to get his lips to unzip. “You know, every time I see one of those bars that have them lady’s who you know are hookers, it makes me think of Cas.” 

“Is that so?” John said pouring himself another drink as well as refilling Dean’s. 

“Yeah. I took him to this brothel one time. Hardest I had laughed in years. He was so awkward and uncomfortable it was hilarious,” Dean laughed. 

“What he not like women or something?” John pried. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Every time he’s shown any interest, it has been more out of curiosity. That’s at least how he explained hooking up with April.” Dean’s responses were rolling out of his mouth. 

“The angel hooked up with someone? Isn’t that a sin?” John asked trying to get more information. 

“Eh. He says the Bibles are full of inaccuracies. I remember him showing up in churches and criticizing priests who were condemning gay people to hell. Besides, April was out to kill him anyway.” 

“Do you think he might be a queer?” John asks. Dean stiffens up and takes another sip of his drink, eyes on the TV screen. 

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “I’d really rather not talk about this.” Dean gulps out of his glass. 

“Sorry, just trying to figure the guy out,” John said trying to get Dean to open back up. 

“Just ask me other things about him. Like, he won’t admit that he can’t taste my cooking, but he will always eat it and say it’s delicious. He is fascinated with nature even though he literally saw it get created. That’s what all those docs were. I let him pick movies sometimes. I know he doesn’t necessarily like the Westerns, but he will always watch them with me if I ask.” Dean smiles to himself. A goofy, lovesick smile. Anyone, even skeptical John, could see that Dean was in love with Cas. 

John leans back and stops filling Dean’s glass, suddenly feeling very guilty about prying into Dean and Cas’s lives. The angel would watch and eat things he knew Dean liked, just to make Dean happy. John remembered doing things like that for Mary. 

“What? You done drinking? We still got a quarter of the bottle left. Pass it over,” Dean said reaching over to grab the bottle. John hesitated thinking about what information he wanted, but also what the bartender said about Dean getting really upset. By the time John decided it was time to cut Dean off, Dean had grabbed the bottle and taken a large swig out of it. 

“Dean, you’re slurring your words. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” John started, feeling a weird pang of Deja Vu. 

“With the week we’ve been having? I’m surprised Sammy’s not dragging us both home from the bar. Well, Ant cut me off, but you know what I mean,” Dean responds before taking another swig. 

“Dean,” John said starting to see the effect he had on his son. 

“You know how we were talking about Cas? Did you know he came back to life the same fucking day you did?” Dean slurred. “I mean come on. It’s like Chuck doesn’t want us together. Well, I mean I know he doesn’t, but still. Can’t he just butt out?” 

John stayed quiet. He felt like Dean might be reaching the spot Anthony talked about. 

“I mean, he never said anything. Never. Not until Billy, I’m sorry Death, was banging on the door. You know I still haven’t stepped foot in that damn room? I can’t even walk past it without hearing his stupid fucking speech about being happy, just knowing me. ME. He killed himself for me. After we agreed not to do any more kamikaze shit,” Dean was now yelling at his father. “He made some stupid deal with the Empty and now he’s all kinds of fucked up. And you’re here, setting everyone on edge. I’m surprised Cas didn’t kill you. He hates you more than I do.” Dean laughed. 

John paused the movie. The reality of the situation came crashing down on top of him. John had gotten his son, who he knew was an alcoholic, drunk to get information out of him. What kind of a father was he? Dean still hadn’t stopped talking. 

“I mean, you sent me away to a boy’s home because I stole food because you didn’t leave us with enough money while you were playing house with Adam. You never left us with enough money. The shit I did to be able to just feed Sammy.” Dean’s eyes were red. 

“I fucking hate you. You know that? God, it took me so long to realize that. And I love you. That’s why you are here. With me and Sammy. You know I almost pulled the trigger that day? God, I was so pissed off at you and Chuck and the Empty and it would have been so easy. You wanna know why I didn’t shoot you? It wasn’t out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll tell you that. It’s because I didn’t want the gunshot to scare Cas. How fucked up is that?” Dean just kept rambling. 

John didn’t know what to do. He made a mistake. He’s made too many mistakes. He had to fix this. “Hey Jack, angel kiddo, whatever I should call you. Will you come to the ‘Dean cave’? I’ve really messed up.” Within seconds, Jack was in the room. He looked over at the empty whiskey bottle in Dean’s hand. 

“Jack, buddy what are you doing up? You know Cas wants you in bed before ten.” Jack walked over and tapped Dean’s forehead, putting him to sleep. 

“What did you just do?” John asked panicked. 

“He’s just sleeping. Where did he get this? Sam got rid of all the big bottles,” Jack observed. 

“I didn’t realize he was this bad,” Is all John said. John walked over and scooped Dean up into his arms like he did when Dean fell asleep watching cartoons in the old motels. John took Dean to his room and was slightly surprised to find the angel asleep on one side of the bed. John didn’t even mention it as he placed Dean down next to Cas watching as they moved closer to each other like magnets. Castiel grabbed Dean pulling their bodies together, fitting like puzzle pieces. 

John left the room, closing the door behind him. He went back and cleaned up the mess in the ‘Dean cave’ and turned off the TV. For the first time since Mary died, he cried. 

(CH 6) ·:*¨༺ I love the Idea of Places I’ll Never go ༻¨*:·

Dean woke up with a pounding headache. He didn’t even remember getting to bed last night, but he must have made some sort of advance on Cas since his arms were wrapped around Dean. 

“Morning, Cas,” Dean couldn't help but grin.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. Dean’s heart quickened. It was like old times. “You’re sick.” Cas moved his hand up to Dean’s forehead and removed the powerful hangover he had. “Better?” 

“Yeah, better. Thanks, Cas,” Dean’s grin got wider. Cas and him sat in the comfortable silence they always had just looking at each other. 

A knock at their door sent Cas back into a panicked state, pulling his wings back out. 

“Hey, Dean? You decent?” Sam calls into the door. 

“Uh, Yeah. Hold on.” Dean ran a hand over his face before getting out of bed to open the door. “What’s going on?” He asked. 

“Have you seen Dad? He’s not in his room, kitchen, library, or weaponry,” Sam explained. 

“Uh, check the ‘Dean Cave.’ We watched a movie there last night. Let me calm Cas back down, then I will head out,” Dean responded.  

Sam could smell the alcohol on Dean’s breath, but he didn’t seem hungover, so Sam decided not to bring it up. He walked down the hall towards the ‘Dean Cave’ and opened the door. His dad wasn’t there but there was a note taped to the couch. 

Dear Boys, 

I’m sorry for the way your life has turned out. I had some sort of realization last night and I don’t think I will be able to face you two again. Dean, I’m glad Cas makes you happy even if he’s a man. Sam, marry that Eileen girl. You’ve got a good thing going with her. You’re raising that kid well. He probably knows what I did and probably will tell you guys because somehow the Devil’s son is more honest than any of us Winchesters will ever be. 

Tell Mary I will always love her. 

J.W. 

“Oh, crap,” Sam says after reading. Sam runs back down the hallway to Dean’s room who is exiting with Cas who has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trench coat, pulling it closer. “Dean. What the hell did you and Dad talk about last night?” 

Dean tried to remember through the whiskey’s haze. Cas just put two fingers to Dean’s head again, clearing his foggy memory. 

“Shit,” Dean whispered. 

“What?” Sam tried not to let his frustration through for fear of scaring Cas. 

“Look, you’re going to be pissed. Just a heads up,” Dean leads with. Sam just nods his head. “We shared a bottle of that cheap whiskey Dad always drank growing up. He, he got me talking. You know how I am. I wouldn’t shut up. God dammit. Jack saw some of it. I’m not sure how much he saw.” 

“Apparently enough to make Dad leave,” Sam says shoving the note towards Dean. Dean’s eyes flicker back through the letter. 

“Wait, this said Dad did something. I don’t remember him doing anything. I was the one who wouldn’t shut up.” 

Jack’s bedroom door creaked open. “I know what he did. He was radiating guilt when I walked in,” Jack whispered. 

“Jack. No.” Cas said. 

“What do you mean no, Cas? Why can’t we know what happened?” Dean huffed. Cas just shook his head. Jack now looked back in forth between the two brothers and his father. 

“They will be unhappy,” Cas finally croaked out a full sentence. 

“What, so you know what happened too?” Dean asked. Cas nodded his head. 

“Cas we are already unhappy. What’s the worst our Dad could have done that he hasn’t done before?” Sam asked looking over to Jack for the answer. Jack took a deep breath. 

“He got Dean drunk to test to see if Cas was controlling his mind and ended up getting a rant from Dean about how much he hates his Dad, saying the only reason he didn’t shoot him was because of Cas being skittish,” Jack said as fast as he could. 

“He what?” Sam said sounding angry while Dean just laughed. 

“Ah, I could have told y’all that,” Dean said. “Wasn’t the first time he did that shit. Not sure why this time me threatening him drunk made him apologize. Made him leave? Yeah, that happened almost every time. He’s never apologized before. That’s crazy,” Dean chuckled again. 

“He’s done that before?” Sam asked quietly. 

“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy. Hardly the worst thing he did to us,” Dean smiled. 

“You’re not mad? How can you not be mad?” Sam could feel his anger bubbling up. 

“Cuz I told him the truth he didn’t want to hear. For some reason this time he actually believed it. Normally he would stomp out saying I was lying to make him feel like a horrible father. Maybe he just realized he was one.” Dean shrugged and walked away going to go get coffee. Cas followed behind quietly. 

“Morning, Eileen. Morning, Mom.” 

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Mary smiled. 

“Yeah, well Dad’s a dumbass who got his feelings hurt like a little kid,” Dean laughed. 

“Where is John?” Eileen signed and spoke. 

“He left,” Sam said walking into the kitchen. 

The bunker lights started flickering. Cas brought his wings out and produced an Angel Blade. 

“Cas?” Dean asked. 

“This was not how it was supposed to go!” Chuck yelled appearing in the middle of the kitchen. He snapped and brought a drunken John into the kitchen. “He was supposed to break up you two idiots. Kill Cas or something. Maybe even kill one of you. Come on! This was not the John Winchester who raised you two!” 

“Yeah, well this John has Mary,” Dean shrugged. “Dad was different when Mary was alive.” He took a sip of his coffee nonchalantly. 

“You should be scared of him!” Chuck yelled. 

“Yeah, no offense Chucky Cheese, but you sent me to hell if I remember correctly. You had me bear the Mark of Cain, don’t ask,” Dean said turning to his Dad, who hadn’t heard that part of the story. “You had me help raise the kid of the Devil, who killed Cas. Then almost had me kill him. That’s not even covering everything, Chuck. My dad is nothing compared to defeating a literal God.” 

Jack steps foot into the kitchen. “Hey, you are not supposed to be here,” Jack observed. “Should I call Aunty Amara?” 

“Let’s leave Amara out of this, kid. This doesn’t concern her,” Chuck said. 

“Yeah, she won’t be mad you are hurting Dean Winchester. Her savior. The man who helped her reunite with her crappy brother. The man who broke her out of the cage she was in,” Sam scoffed. 

“You know what?” Chuck snapped, their Dad becoming sober. “Just finish this out.” Chuck disappeared after that. 

“What’s going on?” John asks getting up off the floor. 

“You’re leaving?” Jack asked looking at the note that was left on the table. 

“Come on Dad, you’re going to make the kid cry if you leave,” Dean branches out. 

“I just don’t know what to say,” John sighed quietly. 

“Then don’t say anything. Grab a gun and go shoot something. We got a range down here and you are probably rusty after 10 years.” Dean said leaving the kitchen with Cas following behind him. “Cas if you are coming with, you will have to tuck those wings in. Let’s not break them again.” 

“Bullets do not hurt me, Dean,” Cas scoffed. 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean smiled and slipped his hand into Cas’s. 

“I wouldn't follow them,” Sam said at the same time Mary did. 

“Why not?” John said panicked. 

“I’ve been trying to get them to get rid of that damn tension for over 10 years now. I would not want to be there if it’s starting to break. If you understand?” Sam explains getting a slow nod from John who is pale. 

“You know I don’t like the idea of a monster and a human together,” John huffed. 

“Yeah well, you would if you’ve been the third wheel to their stares that last all a bit too long,” Sam laughed. 

“I’m not sure I understand?” Jack says. 

“You haven’t had ‘the talk’ with the boy yet? What is he 20?” John asks. 

“I’m four. What talk?” Jack says. 

“He’s four?” John asks. 

“Yeah, he grew rapidly. Honestly, I’m not sure if he knows or not,” Sam explains. 

“Know what? Stop talking like I’m not here!” Jack pouts. 

“Jack, you know how Dean tried to get Cas to hook up with that waitress?” Sam asks, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah. Dean had sex with a lot of waitresses.” Mary choked her coffee hearing that response. 

“Yeah okay,” Sam says. He takes another breath in preparing himself. “Dean and Cas are probably going to start doing that soon.” 

“They haven’t already?” Jack asks getting a laugh out of Sam. 

“Nope not yet.” 

“But they sleep in the same room,” Jack observed. Mary got up and left, done with the awkwardness in the room. John would have followed if he wasn’t frozen in place. 

“Yeah, Jack. Dean and Cas are a little confusing.” Sam explains. 

“So are they not married?” Jack asks confused. John looks like he wants to flee and wishes he could be like Eileen, who has her nose in a book ignoring everything. 

“What gave you the impression they were married?” Sam asked. 

“Cas wears a wedding band. So does Dean.” 

“Oh,” Sam says. “Well the band Dean wears is technically a wedding band, but he wears it on his right. It was our Dad’s before he died. And, uh, you remember how Clair is kinda your sister?” 

“Yeah, because of Castiel’s vessel, Jimmy.”

“He is possessing some guy?!” John roars. 

“Dad, chill. Jimmy hasn’t been in the vessel since I was in the cage.” Sam brings his attention back to Jack. “Well, Jimmy was married. I guess Cas never took it off. He tries to take care of the vessel to honor Jimmy.”

“Oh. Well, when will they get married?” Jack’s naivety can be frustrating at some points, even if it can be endearing. 

“I’m not sure, Jack. Those things take time.” Sam smiles down at the Nephilim.

(CH 7) ·:*¨༺ I am Happy to be bonding in the Kitchen with my Friends ༻¨*:· 

Cas is getting better every day. It’s been about a month since he was brought back and he is significantly better than the day he came back. He still has moments where he won’t speak and becomes skittish, but they are less frequent. 

Dean gets better as Cas gets better. They have been much more affectionate than they have ever been. John is still clearly uncomfortable and sometimes scoffs and leaves the room when they show too much affection, but he tries to keep it to himself since every time he says something Mary threatens him. 

John starts to get to know his sons for the first time. He always knew that Sam was smart, but he also had a knack for witchcraft (another thing both John, Mary, and Dean all had to get used to). Dean, still strong with almost perfect aim, is incredibly intelligent. He knows about classic literature and can read multiple languages. 

John tries to get to know Castiel, but Castiel seems to be less forgiving than Sam and Dean. If Dean is in the room, he will say very few words to John, all of them generally polite. If it is just John and Cas, he threatens John with one wrong move and he will smite him without hesitation. 

Mary and John are starting to bond once more, but may never love each other the same way they did. John is trying to adjust to the idea of Hunter Mary and not Housewife Mary. He finds comfort in the fact that it also took Dean quite a long time to adjust. 

John is slowly adjusting to the new world he is in. New tools, weapons, and gadgets are easier to accept than the new allies the brothers have. Witches, demons, Vampires, Werewolves, etc. Apparently, the hunter Mary was hunting with was a Werewolf, who was hunting down other Werewolves who were hurting people. 

Even with all these changes, John is happy to be home with his boys.