#Cas should have jumped into Deans dreams more it would have been so funny | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

autisticandroids · 3 years ago

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I appreciate you being Dean concerned and not Dean critical. I’m sure you’ve already answered this before but what do you genuinely like about him? A lot of his good traits get twisted in your meta (and in the show) which is really interesting! But like. What about him do you just think is neat?

Also, you don’t talk about Sam a lot but I’m rewatching season 8 and it really feels like both a continuation of preseason one -> season one (Sam has a normal life, Dean is gone -> Sam wants to return to his normal life but Dean coming back gets him back in the game) which also gives it finale vibes :(

Besides the fact that the stuff with Amelia is really boring, it all just feels ooc and like a step back for Sam. Not to go on a rant but Sam seemed to finally make peace with his life back in season 7.

The stuff with Amelia also has both the same and the exact opposite energy as the stuff with Lisa. During his time with Lisa, it was always like Dean had one foot out the door back to hunting. During his time when he goes back to hunting with Dean in season 8, it feels like Sam always has one foot out the door back to Amelia.

That and I just can’t bring myself to give a shit about Amelia (maybe because she’s boring and inconsistent, maybe because info about her is drop fed instead of presented mostly all at once like with Lisa in season 6, maybe because she’s just shoved in for something for Sam to be up to and it feels ooc to me idk)

I thought I’d like season 8 (and I do really like a lot of Cas’ stuff but he’s always my favorite anyway so that was basically gaurenteed) but a lot of the stuff just makes my brain feel like a white noise machine. I’m only on episode 10 so I’m sure it’ll get better for me once the Sam stuff gets resolved but for now it’s very.... eh.

Thoughts?

okay so, what i like about dean. hm. that's hard! i love dean, for all sorts of reasons, and i know i'll miss stuff, but: - he charms me, on a sort of pure, animal level. he's very charming, that's true within the show but it's true for the audience, or at least me, as well. he's funny, he's affectionate, he's sweet, and he tries so hard. and it makes me love him - he's compellingly tragic. like dean is a fucked up guy, he hurts both himself and everyone around him because of patterns of trauma an neurosis he can't break out of. no one wants to be a bad guy, no one wants to hurt the ones they love, least of all dean, but he can't stop doing both those things. like his self-made cage of ideology, emotional repression, and control is killing him, and it's killing everyone who doesn't get away from him, and that's sad! it's awful! no one is winning except dean's self-image. he will sacrifice everyone and everything he loves on the altar of never having to re-evaluate himself. or, i hope he won't. but he might! and that's sad! it's the perfect tragedy! - second hand deangirlism due to cas kinnie disease. men will be the first person who was ever nice to castiel and then me and castiel will love them forever about it. - he is my little puzzle box and i will solve him - straightmarried gf i liked that sam ran off and tried to escape The Life in s8, that makes sense to me. i think sam really fundamentally doesn't want to be a hunter and the only reason he gives up on trying to leave post s8 is that it is impressed upon him that he's completely trapped. he can never be free. dean will always drag him back, kicking and screaming. i actually feel like sam's equivalent to lisa isn't amelia, it's jess. i talked some about that here but like. both jess and lisa were kind of synecdoches for a false ideal of the american dream, each in their own way. they're both images of suburban perfection, and what draws the winchesters to them is the desire to fit into that image.

but comparing lisa and amelia..... like, dean promises sam that he will go try to make a normal life with lisa, and then he does, because that obligation is all he has left to cling to. like dean is nothing but a miserable little pile of duties and tasks, he doesn't know who he is without a chore (see: demon!dean's total directionlessness) and lisa is the last promise he made to his brother, so he fulfills that. she's an idea to him, not a real woman. the thing he's clinging to, in sam's absence, is not lisa, but the idea of a normative suburban lifestyle. but then the moment sam shows up and voids his own last wishes, dean is like okay bye i don't need to fulfill this obligation anymore. like he was never all that interested in lisa. he didn't love her and his relationship with her was built on obligations, normative images, and anxiety over her safety, which finally resolves itself in dean horrifically violating her by asking cas to wipe her memories.

whereas sam is with amelia because he like, meets her and they form a connection. they hit it off. and sam has a pattern of like. when he wants to get away from something, especially if dean isn't around, he jumps into bed with the nearest girl who smiles at him and then forms a super intense with her. his early season one-off love interests, ruby, and now amelia. (amelia is actually kind of the last time he does that, because after season eight he gives up trying to escape for real). but what he's clinging to there isn't an image that he's trying to fit into. it's the girl herself. like he likes amelia and he wants to be around her and he dives into like. spending time with her and building a relationship with her. and like amelia is a real woman and sam sees her as a real woman. like she's a fucked up mess and so is he and they connect. like she's a bitch and she clogs her drain with limes. also #MyGirlfriendsHusbandFightsForYourFreedom. like samelia is a little boring but i don't begrudge sam that. it's almost compelling because it's boring.

i'm actually not a huge season eight guy myself but my issue with it isn't samelia.

actually, and this is a complete tangent, can i bitch about season ten for a second? like. okay. seasons eight and nine are about sam learning that dean will never let him go. that he's trapped forever in the hunting life and trapped forever with his brother, that dean will do horrific things to him in order to keep them together. and slowly just... giving up. deciding to relinquish his dreams of getting out once and for all.

and then season ten rolls around and suddenly sam makes a hypocrite of himself? suddenly sam is the one who will go to any lengths to save dean, even against dean's own wishes? NOT believable. like sam should be like. sad and fucked up about it, but letting dean go his own way. if anything, cas should be the one trying to save dean against his will, that's way more cas' move. like there's definitely a certain level of cas -> dean :: dean -> sam that exists in the show, at least in terms of protective fixation. cas is somewhat more respectful of dean's boundaries and autonomy, but he's the one with a pattern of blowing up at dean for being self-destructive etc etc.

like, sam should have been way different in s10. i don't know exactly what i would do with him, maybe give him his own distinct plot? or maybe have demon dean last somewhat longer and make "demon dean tries to kill sam" a whole multi-episode arc, i think that would slap. and then the relationship fallout from that can be many more episodes.

like imo this happened because jeremy carver got his start in season three, when sam legitimately was trying to save dean against dean's wishes, but in s3 that made sense. like, one, the brothers were much closer then, dean wasn't quite as much of a prison guard for sam, but two, much more importantly, dean's deal was sam's fault. he blamed himself. he wasn't just trying to save dean from dying, he was trying to save dean from going to hell because of him. like girl, it made sense in mystery spot. but this is not the energy you should be bringing to the table with sam in s10. ooc!

#spn #asks #anonymous

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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years ago

Text

Shallow (Dean Winchester x F! Reader)

Word Count: 4549

About: Set during S15 finale, so SPOILERS. You and the boys pick up a vamp hunt while at a Pie Festival. The hunt ends tragically.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jody, Cas, Young Dean (s15), Lyla (OC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader (Anyone can obviously read it)

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Angst, Character Death, Depression (mentioned), Time Jumps.

A/N: It's been while since I did a SPN fic! Writing it made me miss the them more!

A/N 2: This might need some tissues.

***This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd, so please read at your discretion. This work is cross posted on other sites. Please don't copy and paste my work; I work too hard on all my stories. You my copy the link to share or you may reblog. I am NOT taking requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!***

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You laid there, feeling the cool body paint move around on your back. Dean’s gentle fingers tracing over your back could put you to sleep. This had been the most calm and rest you had in the last couple years. You deserved it! Hell, Dean deserved it more than you. He had been fighting longer than you ever had.

Dean and you crossed paths six years ago during a demon hunt. It really was your hunt and you wouldn’t want to admit it, but you really weren’t doing too hot. You were extremely lucky the Winchester’s stumbled across your hunt when they did. If it weren’t for them you’d probably be some demon's meat suit or doing the conga in hell with the devil himself. That was until you learned of where the devil really was a few years later.

You and Dean rarely got along over the first few years. The two of you always butted heads and argued during most hunts. It annoyed Sam so much that he actually told the two of you “Sleep together already! I can’t take the sexual tension and the bickering any longer.”

It didn’t take longer after that for Dean to grab your face and kiss you.

“Are you done back there?” You tried to twist a bit but a hand gently pushed you back into place.

“Nope,” Dean enunciated the word. “Almost. This is going to look epic though.”

“Doesn’t need to be the Sistine Chapel,” You buried your face back into the pillow.

Dean gasped. “Excuse me? Your back deserves a painting better than the Sistine Chapel. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give you the best?”

You chuckled and mumbled something into the pillow.

Once Dean was finished, he reached for his phone and took a picture of it. “There we go,” you heard the smile in his voice. “Now that’s what I like to call the Sistine Back. Here, take a look.”

You lifted your head to see Dean lay on his side next to you. A huge smile painted his face as he showed the screen of his phone to you. What you saw, had you laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Dean,” you breathed in between laughs. “This is better than the Sistine Chapel. I love it!”

Dean’s face lit up so bright, it could have brightened up the dimly lit room. “Yeah? Maybe I should get this printed out big enough to fit the ceiling in here.”

You shook your head as laughter took over your body once again. “Oh, God, yes! We can stare at the hamburger and apple pie every night we have sex.”

“Yeah,” Dean pushed you onto your back, getting the body paints onto the sheets under you. He plants a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, making you shiver through your entire body. Dean began to kiss down your body until he got to your belly. He looked up at you with those bright green eyes. Instead of slinking down further, he crept back up and hovered over you. Those eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. This man has shown you more love than any other man, including your father, has ever shown you. “I love you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Never,” you reached up, wrapped your arms around his necK and pulled him to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Twisted to the side and pulled a piece of paper out of the side table drawer and handed it to him. You watched as his face lit up and looked between the paper and your face.

“A pie festival?” The excitement was clear as day in his voice. “Oh, Sweetheart, we are so going to this thing. The three of us. A huge family road trip.”

And that’s what you all did.

It was the best trip you all had. Dean tried every single pie he could get his hands on. You and Sam watched as he ate each slice. Looking like he was in heaven with each bite he took. It made you happy to see him so at peace not worrying about anything. There’s no end of the world evil to take care of. There hadn’t been for awhile.

LIfe seemed to be normal.

“You gotta try this one,” Dean sat next to you with another big box full of piece samples. He gave you a fork and pushed a pie towards you. “Don’t give it that look. It’s a honey apple pie with a tad bit of rosemary. So much sweeter than normal apple pie.” You took a small bite and Dean was right. It was sweeter.

“Not going to lie, that was pretty good,” you went for another bite.

“So, guys, get this,” Sam sat down with a newspaper in hand. Can’t be a fun trip unless Sam had his paper to look at. “There was a kidnapping last night. Father murdered and the mother’s tongue cut out. Both kids are missing.”

“Okay, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing,” you reach for the paper. “Maybe leave it to the local PD?” Suddenly, Dean took the paper from your hands and stared at the picture to the article of the tragic story.

“I’ve seen this before,” he mumbled. “Do we still have Dad’s journal?”

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked.

“I think I’ve seen these masks before.”

And Dean. Once he found the drawing John Winchester drew years ago, they matched the ones in the paper. You guys were looking at a pair of masked vamps and you guys were pretty much the closest hunters to take care of it.

“It’s one little hunt,” Dean shrugged as he checked out the weapons in the trunk. “Why don’t we take care of it and then head on home.”

It didn’t take long for you guys to locate the missing children. They were being held in an old barn on the outskirts of town. There three of you, so it shouldn’t be too hard to fight a small nest of vamps. You guys have taken out larger nests in the past.

“Come on, just this once?” Dean had asked. You peaked your head around the trunk and saw Dean holding up ninja stars with a huge smile on his face. Sam on the other hand just stared at him and shook his head.

“Not this time, man.”

Dean put the stars away while mumblings about how Sam was no fun. You smiled and patted him on the back and told him that there will be another time to use them. Dean gumbled some more and you had to remind him that you book a separate motel room away from Sam and that you brought some fun toys.

Even his favorite one to use on you.

Getting into the barn was too easy. Sam and Dean fought the two vamps that jumped out, making it easier for you to grab the two kids and get them to the impala. Once you strapped them in, you were making your way towards the driver side, you were tackled by one of the vamps.

The two of you wrestled in the dirt until you were able to break away and grab hold of your machete. You get to your feet and are tackled again, this time the vamp pins you firmly to the ground. The vamp removed his mask and bit down onto your neck, making you cry out. When the vamp pulled back, you took that small opening to headbutt him and kick in in the groin. You rolled away and quickly stood up and swung your machete. The vamp's head rolled onto the ground. You looked up and saw the terrified look on the children’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told them when you opened their door. You pulled the blankets over them and gave them some water and the sandwiches you made. “Drink and eat, we’ll get you home soon.” You heard it go quiet in the barn. It was too quiet and something in you told you something wasn’t right. “Hang on tight,” you closed the door and ran inside the barn.

What you saw, it almost knocked the wind out of you. There, Dean’s back was pressed firmly against a wooden pillar with a pained expression on his face. You ran up to him and looked at the damage and felt the tears fall as your heart begin to break.

Dean wasn’t going to come back from this.

“Dean,” you whispered as you met his eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” He winced as he spoke. You saw his breathing get deeper and more shallow. “I love you. Don’t you forget that when you find someone else.” You squeezed your eyes shut because there was nothing you can do or say that will change the outcome of this. You felt Dean’s hand on your face pulling you towards his lips.

This kiss wasn’t like past kisses. It was firm and passionate and slow. He wanted you to remember this kiss for years to come. “Until we meet again,” Dean whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Take care of her, Sam,” Dean added.

Everything that followed after that, felt like a dream. Your body felt heavy as you drove the kids to the nearest police station with some story about how you found them. The man that you loved, the man who you spent many nights talking about some kind of future, that man was now gone.

When you got back to the barn, the sun was just beginning to rise. You saw Sam sitting next to a covered up heap and the realization, again, hit you hard. The cover heap was Dean’s body. You stopped the impala and got out. Sam looked up at you with red eyes. You knew he had been crying hard. Probably as hard as you had. Sam got up and effortlessly picked up Dean and placed him in the back seat.

The whole way back to the bunker, neither of you spoke. You just took turns crying and driving. Stopping on the side of the road and just letting the other scream out in whatever pain the two of you had left in your bodies.

Back at the bunker, the two of you worked and got a pyre ready. When it was ready, you watched as Sam carried his big brother's body and gently placed it on the wooden display. You stood, with Miracle standing next to you. She had been whimpering off and on. She knew Dean was up there. You knelt down and let her nuzzle you while you let some more tears fall. Miracle was all you had left of Dean now.

Sam had some trouble lighting the pyre so you went up and helped it light it. Soon, the pyre and Dean were on fire. Then the two of you stared at it until it was nothing but ash.

***

You sat in Jody’s spare room while Miracle laid at your feet. You still wished all of this were a dream because neither you nor Sam, could adjust to the new reality that Dean was gone. So the two of you packed up what you could and left the bunker.

You guys drove until you were on Jody’s doorstep at midnight. She knew something was wrong when she looked deeply into your faces and asked where Dean was. When she saw the tears in your guys eyes, her whole face fell. She pulled the two of you into the tightest hug and held on tightly as the three of you cried silently.

A gentle knock on your door startled you. You got up and answered the door and saw Sam standing there. He was dressed in fresh clothes holding two cups of coffee.

“Are you, uh, doing okay?” Sam asked as you took the coffee from him. “I know it’s a stupid question but…”

You gave a pained smile, “I know I’ll be okay, but I feel like I won’t be okay. I’ve tried praying to Jack but I’m pretty sure he’s busy fixing Heaven.” You recount the hours you cried out to Jack about the loss of Dean. You cried about how you wanted him back. You cried about how you were supposed to move on from an epic love like that. You cried about how you just missed him and needed him to make it better.

“Same here,” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “I’m going to go look at places, apartments, that we can share and see what kind of jobs we can get. Do you want to come along?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Not today, maybe tomorrow. I really want to spend time alone and process these last couple days.”

“Okay, no worries,” Sam nodded his head. “I’ll see you when I come back.”

“Okay.”

You waited until Sam had been gone for an hour to pack your bags again and head down stairs. You were in the process of opening the door when you heard someone behind you. Turning around you saw Jody standing in the entryway with you. She didn’t say anything, she just pulled a pair of keys out of the bowl next to her and handed them to you.

“Call me when you're safe,” she placed a hand on your face and gave you a smile. “I can’t bear to lose another kid.” A few tears slipped down her cheek.

Agreeing to call her, you slipped out the door and to the car Jody let you use. You got in and made sure Miracle was settled in the passenger seat. Then you were on your way out of town. You weren’t sure where you would go but you knew you needed to get far away from everything.

You needed to start fresh somewhere.

***

Years have passed and you’ve found that the pain of losing Dean has lessened. You’re able to have random memories of him without crying or hours and days on end. You were able to wake up without feeling like there was a hole on your chest. You were finally able to tell Sam why you ran after you were states away. You promised him it would be for a bit and that you’ll contact him.

Sadly, that day never came.

Two months after losing Dean you began to feel sick. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of losing Dean or starting a new life or both. So, off you went to the doctors and there you sat on the papery bed feeling like you were hit by a truck. The words that the doctor told you, they echoed around in your head.

“And the father?” the words were almost like a whisper in your already loud and spinning head.

“What?” you shook your head.

“That father?” the doctor repeated. “What do you know about the father?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Um, he’s not in the picture.” Your voice had been quiet. Your heart felt like it had been breaking all over again. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of you believed it, Dean and you were never really safe when it came to sex.

“One night stand? We do have options,” the doctor began to say.

“No no,” you shook your head. “The father, he’s um...he passed away.” You choked on the words. Hearing it out loud, made his death all the more real.

“My apologies,” The doctor whispered.

You took the pamphlets and walked out of the doctors. You didn’t know what you would do. This was all so new and all so painful at the same time. Dean was supposed to be here with you whenever this happened. In the end, you chose to keep the baby. You called Jody and Donna and told them, making them both promise not to tell Sam.

Over the years, you heard about Sam through Donna and Jody. He got married and had a kid of his own. You wanted to reach out but at this point it had been years and the two of you had settled into non hunting life. It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt it.

As more years passed, you saw Lyla become more and more like her father. She had his green eyes and his smile. She was smart and would get her hands on just about anything and that made you wonder, where did she get that from. Smart brains ran on both sides. Maybe something from Sam or something from your father. She loved pie just as much as Dean, and you’d take her to the pie festival every year.

As Lyla grew, she asked about Dean from time to time and you told her what you could. You also told her that when she turned into an adult you would tell her more, that telling her while she was young and child wouldn’t be safe or wise. In the meantime, you told her all the things asked about.

“What was Daddy’s favorite food?”

“What did Daddy like to do for fun?”

“What was Daddy’s favorite color?”

“Did Daddy have a favorite movie?”

The questions were endless, but you loved to answer them. Then one day, Lyla came up to you one morning, her dark hair looking like a bird's nest. Her face was beaming with happiness.

“Mommy,” Lyla’s voice was an octave higher. “Did you know, Daddy is in Heaven?”

You almost choked on your coffee. “What, Sweetie?”

“Daddy, he’s in Heaven. An angel told me,” she walked off and grabbed her stuffed chicken, one that she named Chickie Meow Meow, and hugged it tightly.

“What angel?” you asked. You got up and began to check all your warding, the ones that kept the bad creatures out. Everything seemed to be in place, even that salt that still blended in with your window panels. Then you checked to see if Lyla still wore the anti-possesion charm necklace you had made for her. She still did. “What did the angel look like?”

“He wore a funny brown jacket,” she answered. “He said his name was Cas. He wanted me to tell you that Daddy is fine. That they are looking over us.” You pulled Lyla into a hug and let some tears fall.

***

You walked into that old abandoned barn. You had left Lyla with Jody for the weekend. You sat down and placed all that you needed to summon Cas. You didn’t want to pray, you knew Cas all too well, he probably wouldn’t show up. But if you summoned him, you knew he had no choice but to come and see you. You lit the match and dropped it into the bowl and waited.

“Y/N” The deep, rough voice said your name.

You turned to see Cas standing there. In the same thing that he had been taken away in. But it was cleaner. “How are you alive?” you asked outright.

“Jack, he brought me back,” Cas took a few steps closer to you. “You know you could have prayed and I would have come.”

“But would you?” you gave the angel a smirk and raised your eyebrows.

“I did it for Lyla,” Cas looked into your eyes. “She prayed about Dean and wanted to know if he was in Heaven. I thought it best that it was me to come to her.”

You looked down, you couldn’t bear to look into the angel's blue eyes. You always assumed things and that always backfired and kicked you in the ass. “Then why didn’t you come to me when I cried out to you or to Jack?”

“I did,” Cas closed the distance and placed a hand under your chin and lifted your face to meet his eyes. “Each night that you cried yourself to sleep, I was there sitting at the foot of your bed. Each night that you drank yourself to sleep, before you found out you were pregnant, I sat there and rubbed your back the way Dean told me too. Then when you were in that delivery room all by yourself, I was there to make sure things went smoothly. Then when you were sleeping, I memorized everything there was about Lyla. I have watched over the two of you these last nine years. Dean would be so proud of how far you have come.”

You stood there and cried silently as Cas spoke. “Cas,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I can’t be on Earth as much, Jack and I are still fixing Heaven but I can tell you that Dean is waiting for you.” Cas moved his hand to your shoulder. “I have to go, but I was told to tell you, I love you by Dean.”

Then you were alone.

***

Twelve year passed and you’re helping Lyla with a college event. She had just turned twenty-one and was nearly done with her bachelor degree. At this point, she knew all that there was to Dean. She knew he was a hunter, that he saved the world countless times, that he had some faults, and so on.

Lyla knew of what goes bump in the night. She’s read every note and the journal you kept during the time you had been hunting. When she asked if Dean kept one, you had told her that he didn’t. That he used his fathers and you weren’t sure where that ended up. Lyla even went above and got whatever protection tattoos down her spine.

So, while you’re helping Lyla you had a boy, about nineteen years old come up to the booth and look around. He looked familiar to you. He wore a long sleeve flannel, that was probably why. Sam and Dean always wore flannel. That was probably why and it made you miss the younger Winchester. You should have kept in contact with him or at least told him of Lyla.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out to you.

You turned around and your heart just about fell from your chest. There standing with grey hair, was Sam Winchester. He hadn’t changed too much except for the hair and the fact that he wore glasses. He still looked like the Sam Winchester you knew all those years ago.

“Sam?” You crossed your arms.

“The one and only,” he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer, Lyla came up to you. “Mom, we’re going to need some more pamphlets, we’re just about out.” You turned to Lyla who saw Sam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, take my keys and you can go print some out at the UPS down the street,” You motioned to your bag.

After Lyla had left you turned back to Sam who had watched her the whole time. It was like he knew. “So, you have a kid too?” You heard the tone in his voice. Lyla looked so much like Dean these days, you knew someone from your past was bound to notice. Sam most of all.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly. “Her name’s Lyla.”

“Cool, that’s great you found someone to populate the Earth with,” Sam gestured towards you. That tone he held was still there. The look in his eyes was the very same one he used on you when he called you out on yours and Dean’s sexual tension.

“You know, don’t you?” you lowered your arms.

“She looks a lot like Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that why you ran? Is that why I never heard from you?” You stared at Sam and tried to hold back your emotions. “Dean’s final words were to take care of you. I failed at that when you ran.”

“You failed when you didn’t come and look for me,” you lashed out. “I thought you would have looked for me despite everything I told you. You should have found me. Then I find out through Jody your married and have a kid, I thought it best not to mess up what you got for yourself.”

Sam stared at you and nodded. “I should have and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered and looked around. The boy in the flannel was still there. Then it hit you. “Is that?”

“My son,” Sam’s face lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “His name is Dean.”

For the next five years you kept in touch with Sam. You guys spent holidays and birthdays with each other. That was, until you got sick and the doctors couldn’t help you. So, in your hospital room, Sam sat beside you. He wasn’t doing too well either, but he held your hand and smiled at you.

“Tell Dean I said hi,” were the last words you heard.

***

When your eyes opened again, you were sitting on a bench. Around you was a field of just plain old grass and a few trees. You knew this place all too well. You stood and realized you were back in your younger body. Having that kind of movement again, it was amazing. You began to walk around, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. It all felt nice and it made you smile.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

You spun around at the familiar sound. There he stood, looking handsome as ever in his jacket and leaning against the Impala with that heartwarming smile. “Dean,” you said his name like he hadn’t been dead for almost three decades.

Dean pushed himself off the impala and closed the distance between the two of you. He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed his calloused thumb over it. You closed your eyes and took in the touch. “You know, time is different up here. It doesn’t feel like it’s been twenty-six years.” Then he pressed his lips to yours and the feel almost knocked you off your feet.

“Are we allowed to kiss in Heaven?” you pulled away from him.

“I don’t think Jack minds,” Dean smiled and gathered you into his arms and pressed his lips more firmly to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him. “Wanna go for a ride?” He asked when he pulled away.

“Sure, I missed this beauty.” You ran your hand along the impala and just as you were about to get in, Dean staring at you caught your eye. “What?”

“Cas says you had a baby,” Dean crossed his arms on top of the hood. “I have to ask…”

You smiled at him and leaned on the hood as well. “She’s yours and she’s incredible. Loves pie just like her daddy. I thought Cas would’ve told you.”

“Time moves differently up here,” Dean repeated what he said earlier. “What’s her name?”

“Lyla,” you smiled. “Lyla Winchester.”

“I wish I got to know her,” Dean spoke softly.

“You will,” you got into the passenger side. “I can tell you all you want about her.”

Dean followed you into the impala. “I don’t have to worry about some random dude coming here and claiming you as his wife or something?”

“Nope,” You sat back. “Now drive or I’ll start walking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 4 years ago

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I would love for you to talk more indepth about the montage. To me it feels so off and weird. Almost like a parody? So many scenes in it are "funny" moments that just don't make sense in the context of an emotional overview of the road so far... (Like all the scenes where Dean is eating, Donna with donut dust on her face, Sam getting hit during the game show.) I don't know. Isn't the montage supposed to make me nostalgic, teary-eyed? This one definitely doesn't do it for me!

Here I am! Yes, I absolutely agree. The montage is Weird(TM). It’s kind of a tone rollercoaster. It’s very full of funny/silly moments, with some serious moments smacked in. And it definitely looks like... there’s something about it.

For an easier consultation I will reference the gifs I have made of the montage sequence here.

[Gif 1] It starts pretty much like I’d expect a Supernatural goodbye montage to start. The two brothers meeting for the first time in the pilot, a reminder of their childhood with John, their banter still from the pilot, a couple moments of them driving in the car in the first seasons, Dean saving Lucas in 1x03 which is the first Dean-heavy episode and also an extremely symbolic moment for Dean’s entire journey - just think at how Lucas as a mirror was still relevent during the “drowning” Michael possession arc. Everything feels normal so far. We’re starting from the beginning! Now--

[Gif 2] Interesting and weird choices start here. Them pretending to be high school teachers from After School Special 4x13 - actually a very iconic moment for the fandom, remember that post of Dean in shorts from that episode that you had to reblog when it came on your dash? (Actually I’m not sure if I ever reblogged it lol.) Dean celebrating getting young again from The Curious Case of Dean Winchester 5x07 (and Jensen showing off his agility). The two of them showing their FBI badges to Jesse Turner’s biological mother in 5x06. Dean mowing the lawn of Mary’s house in the Djinn dream and immediately after Jess and Sam kissing also in the Djinn dream, from What Is And What Should Never Be 2x20. Then Dean after killing the witch when he was under the memory loss spell, in Regarding Dean 12x11. Sam happy when they celebrate Christmas in A Very Supernatural Christmas 3x08. Them being “lucky” under the effect of the rabbit’s foot in Bad Day At Black Rock 3x03. Sam also happy in Baby 11x04.

Again the present, then the montage starts again with the water-related ghost from Red Sky At Morning 3x06, a Bela episode, and then Bela herself from her first episode, 3x03 again.

What do these moments have in common? Not all of them, but for many of them I’d say reality being manipulated. The Djinn dream, the rabbit foot, Dean’s aging, the Antichrist... and it’s not over yet. Also, them pretending to be teachers, agents etc - not “real”.

[Gif 3] The tone suddenly gets more serious and relevant to current events: Chuck in The Monster at the End of This Book 4x18 (eh). Death in Two Minutes to Midnight 5x21 (the first appearance of Death, while now we’ve had Billie’s last and a very short-lived new one), and then two major moments from Lazarus Rising - Dean emerging from the grave and finding the handprint on his shoulder. Crowley’s first episode, Abandon All Hope 5x10. Zachariah’s death in Point Of No Return 5x18. Anna from The Song Remains The Same 5x13, where she is the antagonist having been brainwashed successfully by heaven. Michael burning and Sam jumping in the cage with Michael in 5x22, then another moment from 4x01 (the brothers hugging after reuniting). A moment from The French Mistake 6x15 (reality fuckery again!). Sam in Frontierland 6x18.

[Gif 4] Reality fuckery continues with Becky marrying Sam in 7x08. Funnily enough, this is the peak of Becky’s obsessive behavior which she went to therapy for and grew away of - it definitely emphasizes how far Becky has come. Donna’s first appeance in 9x13. That iconic shot of Dean in Bloodlust 2x03 because he’s pretty. Charlie’s first appearance in 7x20 while she dances to Walking On Sunshine (relevant?), Kevin’s first appearance in 7x21 when he becomes a prophet (lots of firsts). Abaddon’s first appearance in As Time Goes By 8x12. Then there’s the first appearance of the bunker, in the next episode, a couple shots in fact. Then more 4x01, Ruby pretending to mistake Dean for the pizza man (eh). Then more present...

This section seems to be mostly “first appearances” - including Ruby’s s4 meatsuit, i.e. Genevieve’s first appearance.

[Gif 5] We suddenly jump to more recent events with Kelly and Jack in heaven in Byzanthium 4x08. Jack’s iconic hello from 4x16 Don’t Go In The Woods. Dean teaching Jack how to drive in 14x07 Unhuman Nature. But then we suddenly go from Jack things to something completely different on the surface: two consecutive moments from Changing Channels 5x08, including the iconic Nutcracker scene, and Sully from Just My Imagination. We are actually back to the previous theme: reality fuckery. Gabriel’s episode was about placing them in “television shows”, Sully, while real, is literally a child’s “imaginary friend”. And then... a moment from the cartoon part of Scoobynatural! It doesn’t get more reality fuckery than that. Oh, wait! Charlie and Dorothy going to Oz in 9x04. That’s a pretty strong contender. Dean being hit in the face by a fairy in 6x09 - also about a realm Dean briefly went to. And, in case we felt like we hadn’t gotten enough 4x01 yet, Pamela’s first appearance (her last, albeit a hallucination, was about the whole “How come you only want what you can't have?” thing).

[Gif 6] We continue again with a mixture of firsts and weird things. Ellen’s first appearance in 2x02, Dean and Cas in 4x18 (we saw Chuck from that episode earlier), Jody’s first appearance in 5x15 Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid. Rufus in 6x04 Weekend At Bobby’s (not his first but a good episode...), Garth in 9x12 Sharp Teeth (not his first but the first in which he is a werewolf and is married... relevant to recent lamp events??), Missouri in 1x09 (her first appearance).

Then Gabriel from 13x21 Beat The Devil (an episode where he plays a trick on Lucifer) and Rowena from the same scene (in fact a scene where they’re flirting). Then Eileen coming back to life in 15x06 and smiling at Sam. Jo flirting with Dean in 2x02 - her first appearance, again. Funnily enough, she had been introduced as a love interest, but ended up being repurposed as a sisterly figure. Tempted to say it’s relevant in an ironic way. Mary in 14x11 Damaged Goods, when Dean has a goodbye mother-son moment with her. Amara in 11x09 Oh Brother Where Art Thou when she was looking for her brother. Then Lucifer in two different vessels (12x07 Rock Never Dies and 12x21, when Lucifer regains control over the vessel).

Then Metatron doing the find a wife make babies speech to Cas in 8x23! Relevant??? Dun dun dun. Then Ketch for some reason (the first episode where we see his face, 12x08 LOTUS).

[Gif 7] Then Jo/Anael in 13x13, another first appearance. (I cropped these horribly I should have cut them when the present happens lol.)

Sandwiched between two shots from the present, Dean Sam Mary and John having dinner together in 14x13 Lebanon.

Then we start again with Dean riding Larry in 12x11, Dean and Cas dressed as cowboys in 13x06 (mini pattern here...), Asmodeus with the archangel blade in 13x13 (insert meta about Asmodeus in Christian lore here), and the really intriguing “Intermission” shot from the play in 10x05.

[Gif 8] To continue a certain pattern we might be tempted to see, Dean eating piecake from 14x06 Optimism (an episode about a distorted version of romantic love), then Dean eating noodles from 10x13 Halt & Catch Fire (the ghost is a husband that passes on thanks to his wife). Dean after his dentistry session with Garth in 15x10. Meg from 6x10 Caged Heat (the episode with the pizza man porn). Dean and Sam investigating in 4x12 Criss Angel Is a Douchebag (an episode about growing old poorly). Crowley in 10x16 Paint It Black (that episode). Dean playing that game in 14x17 Game Night (the episode Cas calls for God, and when Mary dies - the one playing the game was God...). Sam and Dean getting out of the car in 13x05 when they visit the traumatized kid (peak mourning Dean episode...). Then we go into reality fuckery territory again with 14x15 Peace of Mind, Sam under the psychic’s control and Cas disgruntled about it.

[Gif 9] Mick Davies from 12x16 Ladies Drink Free, when he learnt a lesson about monsters. Dean geeking out about the Hatchet Man - so heavy with mirror significances - in 14x04 Mint Condition. Belphegor - Jack’s dark mirror - in 15x03 The Rupture, the break-up episode. Donna’s first episode again, this time Dean and she eating donuts. Dean, Sam and Mary hugging in 12x22 after the confrontation in Mary’s head. Kaia in 13x09 The Bad Place, when Jack uses her to find the way to where Mary is (Mary pattern?). Claire&co rescuing Jody and Donna in 13x10 Wayward Sisters. Dean in 1944 dresses as a sailor in 11x14 The Vessel. Baby nyooming in 15x11 The Gamblers...

Aaand more Changing Channels, the genital herpes ad. It’s almost like reality fuckery is a theme. Followed by Sam drinking the anti-cold concoction at Garth’s in 15x10 and the two of them outside the monster fighting pit in the same episode. Then Cas, Dean, Sam and Jack on a video call with Ketch in 14x09 The Spear when they talk about the egg to trap Michael.

[Gif 10] We stay in the same episode with the four of them heading to Michael. Then the four of them celebrating Jack’s return to life (after Cas’ deal with the Empty). More present, and then the iconic “we’ve got work to do” [trunk closes] moment from the pilot.

So: some of these moments seem like genuine moments you’ll want to put in a montage, but there’s a weird predominance of characters smiling and looking happy or goofy. It’s kind of... not exactly representative of the show as a whole, you know? There are moments that fit as, you know, iconic steps in the story, but surprisingly few, and many moments you’d expect to be in a “final” montage are blatantly not there. Several moments with, let’s put it like this, suspicious meta connotations. Moments that, well, we don’t know what happens in the finale yet, but smell like they might be relevant to future developments. (Metatron’s speech to newly human Cas anyone?)

What really strikes me is the amount of moments connected to reality being manipulated or distorted in some way. Lots of Changing Channels, fantasy elements of various kinds (the Djinn dream, Scoobynatural, Oz, the imaginary friend Becky’s wedding to Sam, the fairy, ...), them acquiring luck (s3) or losing it (s15), and so on. It’s almost like the sequence is telling us something...

Thoughts?

#anon #my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn 15x19 #spn

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years ago

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Sunrise (Dean/Cas coda to 15x19 “Inherit the Earth”, 1.7k)

(ao3 link)

Dean and Sam were free. Finally, unequivocally, free.

But this wasn't the happy ending Dean had expected. Maybe in the past, having Sam in the passenger seat tearing across an open stretch of highway as the sunsets, it'd be what he wanted. But that was years ago. He's not that man anymore. Dean's tired of sunsets, of saying goodbye. He yearns for a different ending. One that's less of an ending, and more of a beginning. A sunrise instead of a sunset.

Sam has his. Dean lost his. Despite this setback, he won't stop. He'll live in memory of his sunrise.

Except, what can he do when he feels those rays on his face again?

Early morning sunlight streams through half-closed motel window blinds, striking Dean directly on his face. Stir him from unconsciousness, shuffling Dean out of his dreams. Warm blue and familiar stubble replaced with an ugly, orange patterned wallpaper that makes his stomach unhappily flip. Groaning, he turns. Hopes he can reclaim his quickly fading fantasy. It escapes his grasp, Dean left in the loneliness of reality.

Truly. He checks Sam’s bed, finding it unoccupied. “Figures…”

They crossed paths with Eileen coincidentally. Not like Sam’s pointed questions and giant thumbs hid his intentions. Even his terrible acting (“Eileen? What are the odds of you being here?”) couldn’t throw him off. Dean played along, however, letting them think he was in the dark. Knew exactly why his brother and his brother’s girlfriend hadn’t told Dean about this. Salt only hurts a wound that’s fresh and open. While badly healed, Dean’s grown numb to that missing chunk of his heart. More pained that his sadness made his loved ones go behind his back, act in guilt.

Sam and Eileen don’t deserve shadows because of his pain.

Which is why he’s happy for them. Left the bar so they can chat without his presence. Catch up, let Sam tell her about those kitschy tourist traps they’ve been hopping between since Chuck’s defeat. Show pictures of Dean in an upside-down house, Sam’s head peeking out from corn fields. Hold hands. Sit on the same side of the booth. Kiss, without worrying if Dean is steadily killing his liver at the bar because of them.

Drinking lost its flavor anyhow.

Free from Chuck’s influences, Dean decided he might cut a few more strings. Namely beer. He’ll enjoy a bottle every now and then but, reflecting on it, booze never offered comfort he really needed. Only aggravated a different sort of hurt, distracting him for a while. He abandoned those distractions. Instead of asking their bartender from last night, with his tanned skin and wavy, blond hair, for whiskey, neat, until he dropped, Dean stood from their table and paid his tab. Carried his longing out the exit, drove with it, laid down in his bed and held it close. Hugged it, imagining his arms. Praise whispered in his ear, about choosing a different way. A better way. A healthier way.

Cas would be proud of him. Prouder than he already is. And Dean… felt the same.

Rising, Dean stretches. Winces as a new disc pops and cracks in his back, “Motels ain’t what they used to be…” He throws his legs over the side, scrunching his toes in the shag carpet. Smiling, “But at least some things’ll never change…”

It’s going to be a slow morning. Dean doubts Sam will swing by before noon, meaning he has hours to kill. First, he leisurely showers. Scrubs at his scalp with gentle scratches, humming Zeppelin under his breath. Keening ‘A Whole Lotta Love’s chorus, coming into his hand. Lets that melody fade while water makes his come sluice off his hand, into the drain. He switches tracks, dries himself while softly singing ‘Going to California’. Thinks about their next destination. All those beaches he and Sam plan on visiting. Finally making good on their promise.

Not how he always envisioned it, but…

Dean drapes the towel around his neck, staring at his reflection. Marks new wrinkles he hadn’t noticed, gray hairs where dirty blond were. Sees how small his eyebags shrank.

Sleeping was surprisingly easy. Some days Dean wished it weren’t. Others, it’s his only chance at being with him again.

“Nope,” he says, leaving the bathroom. Jumping out from the mirror. “Not going there… not this early…”

He bides his time dressing, debating where he should get breakfast. Wonders if a diner they passed entering town might serve pie as he hops into his jeans. Waffles between a t-shirt or purple-and-blue plaid while rubbing deodorant on. Then, tugging his tee’s thin fabric over his head, he decides he isn’t that hungry. Can eat later, Sam driving so he can attack snacks he squirrelled away when they last stopped for gas.

Knock Knock Knock

“Sam?” Dean asks, glancing at the door. No one answers. “Sam is that you? You forget your keys or…” He checks his phone. Nothing.

Knock Knock Knock

“Sam, if that’s you – this isn’t funny.” He grabs for his socks, sitting on the end of his bed. “Pulling a poor joke on your brother, leaving your girlfriend alone in bed… shame on you.”

Knock Knock Knock

Dean squeezes his socks, glaring at the door. His irritation fades, weirdly, the longer he stares. Replaced with a different feeling, comforting. Without needing to, Dean guesses it’s not Sam on that other side. Tossing his socks, Dean stands and slowly inches forward. Drawn by gravity, a name perched atop his tongue. Waiting there, scared of being spoken. Of being wrong. He doesn’t feel wrong.

Is this still a dream, he asks himself. Did I actually wake up? Dean waits, hovering near the doorknob. Remembers rushing last time, what waited there then. What he almost threw himself onto. Cycles through who might be waiting now. Something worse, a more terrifying monster. Or maybe mundane, like the motel manager. He’ll never know if he drags it out. Whether that’s motivation or warning, Dean can’t decide. What he does choose is flinging open that door and facing whoever was there.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas -?” Dean gasps, knees buckling. Laughing, he leans his weight on the door. Grins wide enough his cheeks must splinter, twin tracks of tears already spilled over. “Cas, is that…” He coughs, wiping at his mouth. “Is that really you?”

Like nothing happened, Cas crosses the threshold. Dressed spectacularly… normal. Trench coat, suit jacket, and white button-down paired with his crooked blue tie. Dean’s hand drifts close but can’t touch. Not yet. “It is me,” he tells Dean, “you… probably have a lot of questions. About why I’m here, and – and what was said when the Empty…”

Of course, there are questions. None were as important as Dean snatching Cas’s tie, dragging him into a heated embrace. “Later,” he promises, closing the door. Guiding Cas onto his bed. Falling, his angel’s body collapsing atop his. Weight proving further and further how real this is.

He’s back!

“I can’t believe…” Dean kisses along Cas’s neck, threading his fingers through hairs resting at his angel’s nape. Feeds a fire burning across his body, flames roaring with a desire for more. “Can’t believe I could be this lucky…”

Cas chuckles, “Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Never to us.” Pausing, Dean tears his eyes from the dip of Cas’s collarbone and to his face. “I searched, Cas. I did. Back when it was me, and Sam, and Jack, I did everything I could but I… there wasn’t any lore. Nothing about contacting the Empty, breaking through I – how?”

Shifting, Cas rolls off Dean and onto his side. No sooner than it started, those flames eating at Dean’s insides tempered. Became a more manageable heat, containable. Dean tucked himself against Cas’s chest, hearing his heartbeat. Awed from that simple rhythm it gives. Lulls Dean with a gentle song. “Jack,” Cas explains. Rubs Dean’s shoulder, along where his handprint was. Teased the edges of his tee, part of his memorial tattoo revealed. Cas traces his palm outline. “In fixing Chuck’s mistakes, he… he mounted a rescue mission from Heaven.”

“For you?”

“For everyone.” Cas kisses Dean’s crown, continuing his story. Whispers it into his head. “All the angels. Jack rescued us all.”

“Everyone?” Dean asks, “Meaning… Michael? Gabriel?”

“Uriel, Balthazar, Anna, Hannah, Metatron – even Lucifer.”

“What the hell?”

“He was fixing what Chuck wasted. Saved Heaven,” he says, “Gave everyone a second chance, to do right by humanity. Be its guardians like we were supposed to be. And…” Cas lays his hand where it belongs, Dean shivering from contact. Wraps his arms tighter around his angel’s waist. “Jack offered me all my powers back, and then some. Said I could be his archangel… second-in-command, in all of Heaven.”

Dean lifts his head, frowning. Studies Cas with a suspicious wrinkle creasing his brow. He deflates somewhat, disappointment rocking into him like heavy waves. Routine. Expected, since Cas was exactly where he wanted. But then, isn’t that answer enough? Dean asks regardless. “Did you take it?”

“I thanked him for the offer,” Cas says, “however my place was elsewhere, here on Earth… with you.” His hand moves, cupping Dean’s cheek. Thumb brushes his lip. “And when our time comes, I’ll rejoin Heaven at your side.”

Cas’s heartbeat makes sense, now. It never did that before.

“We’ve got a long time before we croak, Cas,” Dean jokes, crawling higher up his bed. Enough that he can press their foreheads together. “You think you can handle it?”

“I waited millennia to meet you, and then years just so I can hold you like this.” Cas closes the distance, capturing Dean’s lips. “I’m hoping our future is excruciatingly slow.”

“Our future…” He relaxes, allowing a few more kisses before he starts again. “Y’know, I… I thought I’d never get to say that. Figured, after Jack took the reigns from Chuck, this was all we’d get and – and having everyone back was nice. But you weren’t there, and I hurt. When you died, I wanted to sit there and let myself waste away and join you. Except if I did, you’d be so angry and – that’s what’s been keeping me going. You loved me so much – and were pained whenever I was… I couldn’t do that to myself. Punishing myself wouldn’t be fair. So I thought about my future, how I can live it for those I loved. Be there… the person I’ve become, and not who I used to be. But now…”

“Now you can be a little selfish,” Cas says. “We can be selfish.” He tickles Dean’s chin, hands roving across his body. “What should we do, for the first day of the rest of our lives?”

Dean doesn’t dawdle. “I want to lay here,” he says, “Lay here the whole day, in your arms, telling you how much I love you.”

“…I don’t see any problems with that.”

Neither did Dean, which is why he suggested it. They fix themselves, first. Cas sheds most of his outer layers, leaving himself only in his boxers. Dean hurls his jeans off fast, jumping under the covers. Giddy as Cas joins him, both men facing each other. Hands joined above their sheets, Cas’s palm fitting perfectly.

“Well?” Cas arches his brow, “How much do you love me?”

Dean kisses him, ruining it by smiling too hard. “I love you too much, and not enough.”

#supernatural #spn #spn15 #15x19 #15x19 inherit the earth #15x19 coda #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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adhdeancas · 4 years ago

Text

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven

Special thanks to James @friedchickenangelwings for helping me out with this story. I can’t wait to write this. Read on AO3 here

Summary: Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching.

Chapter One: Runnin’ on Empty

“Well, Cas helped.”

Dean’s heart flutters at that and he looks at Bobby. The damn old man raises his eyebrows; he knows he just buried the lead and he did it on purpose. A soft breath escapes him and he smiles. Maybe this is gonna be alright after all. Hell, maybe he can find that angel and…

“It’s a big new world out there. You’ll see.”

Dean’s stomach twists at the idea. I don’t wanna see. His stupid brain insists. He takes a swig of the beer in his hand to try to quiet the voice. “Oh, wow.” He recoils a bit and looks at it. “This tastes like the first drink I ever shared with my dad.” He shares a wry smile with Bobby. Drinks with Dad weren’t exactly top-tier, and they both knew it.

“Quality stuff?”

Dean’s smiling because he feels like he should be. “Nah, it’s crap.” He tries to shift that memory into a good thing, because his memory of his first beer is the crushing doubt and fear that swirled around his head. Finally, he’d done something right enough to earn a beer like a Man, but he still felt… broken.

He feels the same now.

Maybe it’s because he’d really just wanted a hug.

But Bobby is waiting for him to say something. Dean focuses instead on the surface-level joy of that old mid-evening beer, the pride in his dad’s eyes, trying to drum up the feeling. “But it was fantastic.”

“Just like this.”

“It’s almost perfect.” Dean manages. He wants Bobby to agree. He wants Bobby to say ‘Yeah, I know, something just ain’t right, can’t put my finger on it,’ but he doesn’t. He lets the silence drag on for a second longer before he fills it.

“He’ll be along.” Dean’s heart jumps, but then he realizes he’s talking about Sam. Not Cas. But he doesn’t want Sam up here anytime soon; he wants Sam to live a nice life with Eileen, like he promised. “Time up here, it’s different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

It kinda feels like when Jack was born and Cas was dead and Sam wanted to go to strip clubs and listen to Zeppelin and eat at the greasiest holes-in-the-wall. Like he had everything he was supposed to want laid right out in front of him, but… none of it made Dean feel anything. He looks around, searching for inspiration, and his eyes land on home. Things always look clearer when he's looking out at ‘em through Baby’s windshield. “I think I’ll go for a drive.”

“Have fun.”

He leaves the acrid beer with Bobby and climbs into his car. Maybe he’s insane, but she feels.. different. He is insane. He is in heaven. “Get it together, Dean.” he mutters to himself as he pulls away. Bobby mentioned that his parents are nearby but… Dean doesn't want to face that yet. Nothing to fix your existential crisis about Heaven like a neat talk with your disappointed parents.

He keeps to the main road instead. He drives for an hour, maybe two, at least that’s what it feels like. From what Bobby said, time isn’t so straightforward here. That only scares him a little bit. Eventually, his brain seems to calm down enough to think clearly. He’d chosen this. He’d accepted this. And he’d meant what he’d said in that barn; he was okay with dying. Of course, he didn’t realize that meant… He didn’t realize that meant more.

A little voice inside him whispers something evil. He’d just wanted to see Cas again. Even in memories. Like it was before…

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna fuck it up. It’s heaven. I can’t fuck it up in heaven, right?” He laughs out loud to himself, but it’s cut off by Baby groaning underneath him. She starts to slow. “Baby? What the hell?”

She’s out of gas.

Dean grumbles as he pulls over. “Sonuvvabitch, what the-” He almost said what the hell. He’s in heaven. Nothing in hell. Heh. She rolls to a stop and he kills the engine, letting the new silence and stillness wash over him. He sighs. Heaven, huh?

He scrubs a hand across his back and looks over to his right, to an onion field. Yellow and pokey and-

Cas is standing in the middle of it.

Dean just about has a heart attack. He scrambles out of the car, honks Baby’s horn in the process, is all the way around the car by the time he really sees him.

Cas looks terrible. He’s standing stock-still in the middle of the field, arms down at his sides, crumpled trench coat speckled with the black sludge that haunts Dean’s nightmares. His hair is matted, his face gaunt, eyes sunken in with bags dark as bruises. But what scares Dean the most is the look in his eyes. His eyelids droop and hang and he stares straight ahead, straight at Dean, without seeing him, without any light in them at all.

It doesn’t look like Cas.

“Cas?” Dean approaches slowly, hands held out like he would to a wild animal. Cas shows no sign of moving, just stands there. “Cas, look at me, man,” There’s pleading in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He needs Cas to be okay.

Castiel is not okay.

As Dean gets closer, he starts to hear screams and crashes. He twists around to look for the source, but it just seemed to come from… around Cas. He looks closer, and Cas’s hands move to fend something off he can’t see. He’s still just staring ahead, but, looking closer at Cas’s face, he sees something he hadn’t noticed before.

Cas is talking. Well, muttering really. Dean can barely hear him through the pauses in far-off yells. “d-Dea-Dean. Dean- de-Dean.” Dean stomach drops off a cliff. “Dean, just think of… D-du-Dean.”

“I’m here, Cas.” Fuck the rasp in his voice. Fuck the tears in his eyes. Cas can’t hear him. He can tell by the look in his eyes. “FUCK!”

He rubs his eyes with his fists furiously. This is so frustrating, this is so-

There is no one there. No sound. Cas is gone.

Dean strides ahead, but it’s no use. The field is empty, and he is alone. Again.

It takes Dean a few minutes before he can get himself under control. Cas isn’t there; he has to assume he never had been, not really. So, unless Dean has finally gone off the deep end, it was… what, a vision? A- god, it felt familiar. It felt like - it felt like after purgatory. The same haunted face, the same unseeing eyes. Gone in a blink.

Why am I seeing you again, man?

But, as sure as he is that there is grass on the ground, he knows Cas can’t hear him.

Dean sits up against his fender and sighs. On the one hand, he is sitting on warm clear asphalt, feeling the afternoon sun bake his face, and on the other, he is miserable and seeing his dead-alive-again best friend. Except if Cas was around, he would come see him. Right? I mean, Dean died. So young. And Cas just told him-

And Dean is praying to him. And he’s not here. It’s not right. None of it is. That he is sure about. If this was heaven, he didn’t want it.

Dean gets up. Will he ever get some motherfucking peace? He gets in his car, tries the ignition. She starts up again and - miracle of miracles - has gas. He thanks her with a pat and they're off, riding into the eerily-perfect sunset, back the way they came.

Night’s fallen by the time he pulls into the dirt pathway. He parks on the lawn and shivers a little bit in the chill of the night. Funny, he wouldn’t think Heaven got cold. But then again, he wouldn’t have thought Heaven would be shitty either. The roadhouse is inviting and homey, lights on inside. Dean snags a beer from the cooler left out front and kicks the door open softly. “Hello?” He doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but it definitely wasn’t who he gets.

“Dean!” Charlie wraps him in a hug before he can say anything, and Dean gladly melts into it. God, it’s good to see her. He pulls away and pats her cheek, checking her out. She looks good, normal. Less… dead and bloody than he last saw her? Jesus his mind is a dark place.

“Hey kid! How the hell are you?”

Charlie rolls her eyes at the greeting, but she can’t stop grinning. “All things considering, y’know, being dead and all, I’m good!”

Dean laughs. She’s already rambling, and he missed her. “Sorry about that one,” he winces, remembering his part in the circumstances around her death.

Charlie chooses to take it as a condolences. “Yeah, you too, dude. But at least we died young and hot, right?” She tugs him over to the bar and leans around to yell at the scuffed doorway. “Ash! We got company?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Ash? You guys know each other?”

“Can’t keep geniuses like us apart, compadre,” Dr. BadAss comes out of his backroom, arms spread out in greeting. Dean can’t stop himself from greeting him with a hug. He hadn’t known who to expect here, but Ash and Charlie are just about best case scenario. “What’re you doing here?”

Dean knows he means how he died, but he looks around anyway. The rest of the bar is quiet and still, and Dean can hear nothing outside the heavy doors either. “I think we gotta problem, Ash.”

Ash’s face folds into a frown. “What kinda problem?” Dean feels Charlie press in and he glances at her suddenly-serious face.

“A big one. A heaven sized one.” They all looked around skeptically, a little Scooby-Doo-like, taking in the lifeless room around them. Finally, Ash meets Dean’s eyes, and Dean withdraws a little.

“Yeah, we know. Welcome to the team, Deano.”

Tag list: @dochunterwitch @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat

#fanfic #my writing #destiel #deancas #15x20 coda #coda #fix it fic #sunset sound #sunset sound: stairway to heaven #runnin' on empty #chapter 1 #dean winchester #ash #castiel #charlie bradbury #bobby singer

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shadowywerewolfqueen · 4 years ago

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For Suptober Day 23.

“Sam, I can’t just tell Cas how I feel! What if he doesn’t feel the same way? We are roommates and I can’t afford for Cas to leave because he doesn’t want to be around me,” Dean said, laying on his bed while talking to his brother.

“If Cas’ money is the only reason why you want him as a roommate, then maybe he should leave,” Sam replied.

“Ugh, of course that’s not the only reason why I like having Cas around! The dude might be my roommate but he’s also my best friend! I can’t risk telling Cas the truth and losing him. I don’t know what I’d do without Cas,” Dean exclaimed, annoyed that his brother would insinuate that he only liked Cas for his money.

“Woah, dude, calm down! I didn’t mean to upset you. Dean, you’ve been crushing on Cas for years and you still haven’t made a move. If you don’t, someone else will,” Sam pointed out.

Dean groaned. “You don’t think I don’t know that! Hell, Crowley, Balthazar, and Meg have all asked him out multiple times. Thankfully, he’s turned all of them down.”

“So, what happens when he finally says yes to somebody?” Sam asked.

Dean buried his face in his pillow and screamed. When he was done, he answered his brother’s question. “Get really jealous and probably give the person the stink eye anytime they are around Cas.”

Dean could practically see the bitch face he knew Sam was giving him. “Exactly, so why don’t you grow a pair and tell Cas how you feel!”

“I don’t even know what to tell him!”

“Why don’t you make a list of all the things you like about Cas. Pick out a couple and come up with a way to spend some together focused around those things. Then, maybe hint at the possibility of it being a date and see how Cas reacts,” Sam suggested.

Dean frowned. “Dude, that sounds so fucking girly!”

“Then keep pining like a lovesick teenager and don’t ask me for anymore help,” Sam said, obviously annoyed.

“Fine, don’t get your panties in a knot. I’ll try, but we both know that all this mushy crap isn’t my thing,” Dean said.

“Well, if you want Cas to be your boyfriend, then you better make it your thing. Look, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll talk to you later. Love you,” Sam said.

“Yeah, alright. Love you too and good luck on your test.”

“Thanks Dean, bye jerk.”

“Bye bitch,” Dean replied, softly. He dropped his phone on the bed and lay there, contemplating if he could just jump in a hole and let it swallow him. He finally rolled out of bed and walked over to his desk. He grabbed a pen and paper and started writing.

A few days later, Castiel walked into the apartment he shared with Dean. He headed into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge. He drank half of it before walking to his bedroom and grabbing his overflowing laundry basket. He paused by Dean’s door before deciding to see if Dean had any dirty clothes. He opened the door and walked inside. He grabbed the few clothes he saw lying on the floor and then walked to Dean’s desk to grab the shirt that was lying on top.

He picked the shirt up and something flew onto the floor. Cas went to drop the clothes into his basket before walking back into the room. He picked the piece of paper up and was surprised to see his name written on it. His curiosity was too strong to be ignored. As he read, his eyes widened with every bullet point.

My Cas List aka All My Favorite Things About My Roommate/Best Friend/Guy I’m In Love With

His hair. I love how it’s shining black, almost like a raven’s wings. Also love how no matter how hard he tries to make it lie flat, it always gives him a perpetually just got laid look.

His eyes. Holy shit, I could write an entire essay on Cas’ eyes. They are the deepest, purest, most gorgeous fucking blue I’ve ever seen. They remind me of the ocean when the sun is reflecting off the water.

His smile. I mean his real smile, where his gums show and his eyes and nose scrunch up. I love it so much because he rarely smiles that big. It’s like a freakin ray of sunshine! Although, I’ve noticed he smiles a lot like that when we hang out. Ha, suck it Crowley!

His body! Man Cas, has a killer fucking body with those broad shoulders, flat stomach, and them thighs! Oh my God, he could crush a watermelon with those things. Hell, I wish he would crush me with them. And he’s got a pretty impressive cock (what can I say, I was a peeping Tom a few times!) I wish I knew what it felt like to have it buried in my ass, man I bet he would fill me up just right!

His hands! He’s got huge ass hands and man I love to just watch him pick shit up. When he touches me with them, I get goosebumps all over. I just wished he’d touch me more often with them.

His voice. Whiskey on gravel and man the things it does to me! Man, what I would give to be in bed with Cas and have him order me around with that voice of his. Ughh, I get hard just thinking about it.

His fascination with bees. He’s so passionate and I love listening to him talk about how important they are for the environment and how they make their honey. I might not love bees, but I would listen to Cas all day because when he talks his eyes light up and he gets one of his gummy smiles.

His utter lack of understanding of pop culture references. I mean he literally gets none of my references but that just means I get to educate him. I love our movie marathon weekends because of all the time I get to spend with him!

He can’t cook worth a shit! That just means he loves my cooking all the more, especially my burgers! They make him very happy haha.

His baking skills! Dude might burn spaghetti noodles but he makes the best darn pies, cakes, and cookies I’ve ever tasted! The best thing in the world is coming home to a freshly baked apple pie made by Cas. It’s even better than Ellen’s (not that I would tell her that.)

He loves Sam as much as I do! Sammy means the world to me and to know that Cas loves him and treats him like his own brother means everything! Cas will hang out with Sam just as much as me and that earns major brownie points in my book!

He knows nothing about cars but he loves Baby! Enough said!

He loves animals. I never thought I would enjoy giving up a couple Saturday’s a month to go volunteer at the humane society but boy do I love it! I think I’ll ask Cas about adopting a pet and see what he says. I bet he’ll say yes.

His head tilts when he’s confused. It’s just so damn cute.

That damn trench coat of his. He’s the only person in the world who looks so darn sexy in a plain brown coat.

The fact that he will steal my clothes and wear them before wearing his own. God he looks sexy when he wears my stuff.

All the times we spend hanging out. Cas is always down to do anything whether it's going to the arcade, or the zoo or a football game. Hell we spent an entire day at a car museum and then at a natural history museum just so we could do what each other likes! Besides Sam, there’s no other person I would want to hang out with.

His personality! Wow, that’s a huge one but it’s true. Cas is the most caring, thoughtful, loyal, smart, funny, kind, awesome, brave, generous, etc, etc. Cas is the best friend a guy could ask for and I can’t imagine not having him in my life. He’s a freaking angel and I just wished I deserved him. I wish I had the freaking nerve to tell him how I feel because getting to spend the rest of my life with someone as amazing as Cas is better than all the free burgers and pie in the world.

I could keep going but my hand is getting tired and I’ve got work to get to or else Bobby will have my hide. Maybe, one day, I’ll actually show this to Cas but probably not. I only did this because Sam suggested it would help come up with a way to ask Cas out, but all it’s done is made me realize why I don’t deserve him in the first place.

Cas plopped down on Dean’s bed and just stared at the note, unable to believe what he just read. He sat there for nearly ten minutes trying to process his thoughts. Finally, he grabbed a piece of paper off Dean’s desk and started writing a letter of his own.

“Cas, I’m home! I figured I would make my burgers for dinner along with some homemade fries. Afterwards, we can watch that bee documentary you recorded,” Dean called as he headed to the kitchen. He smiled when he saw his friend sitting at the table, a cup of hot tea nestled between his hands. Cas had a real fondness for the stuff.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said.

Dean paused, Cas’ tone not the pleasant sound it normally was. “Uh, everything alright?”

Cas nodded and took a sip of his drink. “It is.” He sat his cup back down before reaching into his pocket and taking a piece of paper out. He unfolded it and slid it to the opposite side of the table. “Sit down, and read this please.”

Dean couldn’t help but eye his roommate as he took a seat and grabbed the paper. The blood drained from his face when he read the top line.

All My Favorite Things About My Favorite Person aka The Person I’m In Love With

Dean’s stomach was in knots as he looked at Cas. “Uh, what is this?”

“Just read it Dean,” Cas replied.

Dean sighed before looking at the paper once more.

1. His looks. I am a sucker for blonde hair and he has dark golden locks that always seem to lie perfectly even when he just runs his fingers through it. His eyes are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. They are like a forest on a warm spring day. 2. His laugh. He doesn’t laugh overly much but when he does, he has a smile that lights up his face and his whole body shakes with joy. I could listen to his laugh from sunrise to sunset. I’ve noticed he laughs a lot around me and it always makes my heart beat faster when I hear it. 3. His body! The Greek sculptors couldn’t find a better specimen if they looked. He has the perfect face with plump lips, high cheekbones, and a strong jaw. Then he’s got wonderfully muscled shoulders, a wide chest, a toned stomach, and bow legs (which I find freaking adorable. I may or may not have seen his cock which is extremely impressive and I dream about wrapping my mouth around it and bringing him to orgasm.

Dean couldn’t help his thoughts as he read. “This dude sounds perfect but hell, I’ve got all of that. I mean my hair may not be gold and my eyes are just a plain green but I’ve got a pretty good body. I definitely have the damn bow legs and my dick is pretty spectacular.” He continued reading.

4. Did I mention his bow legs? I know he hates them, but I think it just adds to his overall physique. I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around me any day!

5. His voice. When he sings, it’s like water running over rocks. It’s clear and smooth and I wish he'd sing more often!

6. His love of cars! He’s got the most awesome vintage car in the world and there’s nothing better than just going on long drives in her. I can spend hours listening to him talk about cars even if I don’t have a fucking clue what he’s talking about.

Dean tried to keep the scowl from his face as he thought, “Now wait a damn minute! Baby is the best car in the world and whoever this guy is can bite me! Maybe Cas doesn’t like Baby as much as I thought. I guess he was just pretending about enjoying our car rides together.”

7. His ridiculous amount of knowledge about all pop culture related things. I don’t think he can say more than three sentences without referencing a movie, or TV show, or band. It’s ridiculous and sometimes talking to him is like trying to learn a foreign language! But that just gives me all the more reasons to have movie marathons with him so that maybe one day, I can be as savvy as he is.

8. His obsession with cowboys! The man dresses as Clint Eastwood every year for Halloween! Need I say more?

Dean glanced at Cas, but he was looking to the side towards the kitchen window. “I want to meet this dude and show him I know more about pop culture than he ever could! I also bet my Clint Eastwood costume is better! I don’t understand why Cas is so caught up on this dude! I have all of this and I bet I do it better!”

9. His cooking! If I could only eat his burgers for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man!

“I thought my burgers were the best, though! Cas has said multiple times how they’re practically orgasmic,” Dean said inside his head.

10. His love of sweets, especially pie! He would live on pie if he could and I love to spend all day baking sweets and watch him enjoy the fruits of my labor!

11. He’s a family man and loves his brother with everything he has! They have one of the strongest sibling bonds I’ve ever seen and I’m so happy they took me in and include me in all their adventures.

12. He knows nothing about bees but will listen to me ramble about them all day. He gets this almost dreamy look as he listens and it makes my heart melt to know that he pays attention even if it isn’t his thing.

Dean frowned as he thought, “I fucking enjoy Cas’ baking and I will listen to him all damn day talk about bees! Why is Cas so hung up on this dude when I’ll do all the same shit! What if Sam was right and Cas got tired of waiting for me, so found someone else that was a lot like me?”

13. He loves coming to the animal shelter with me! He didn’t at first but now he never says no! Maybe one day, we’ll have our very own dog or cat.

14. He has this small pudge above his waist from all the burgers and pie he eats that won’t go away no matter what! Again he hates it, but it’s the comfiest spot to rest my head on when we’re lying on the couch together.

Dean dropped his hand to his stomach and pushed against his own small pooch. Cas always used it for a pillow, but this mystery guy’s must be better. Since when did Cas go to the animal shelter with anybody but Dean? Dean thought it was their thing, but obviously he was wrong.

15. His love of all things plaid! Like I’m pretty sure his wardrobe is 90% flannel and 10% everything else! Although, me stealing about ten of his old band t-shirts didn’t help, but they smell like him so I just had to.

16. His necklace that he always wears. His brother gave it to him and he never takes it off.

Dean wrapped his fingers around the amulet hanging from his neck. Sam had given it to him for Christmas when they were kids after their dad failed to show up yet again. It meant the world to him and if he ever lost it, he would be heartbroken.

17. All the time we spend hanging out together. There’s never any telling where we’ll end up! It could be a zoo or a museum or some kind of sports game! We’ve gone bowling, golfing, and I even convinced him to go on a rollercoaster with me. He held onto me the entire time because he’s afraid of heights. Of course I went with him to a car show the following week to even it out.

“I thought hanging out with me was special,” Dean thought sadly. His shoulders dropped as he realized that maybe Cas didn’t enjoy hanging out as much as he thought. It was obvious that Cas enjoyed spending time with his crush more than Dean.

18. His personality! There isn’t enough paper in the world to write everything I love about him. He’s wicked smart and has a great sense of humor! He’s loyal and kind hearted! He will help anybody who needs a helping hand whether it’s mowing their lawn or taking them to the store because their car broke down. He’s stubborn, sure, but he’s also brave and ambitious and full of life. He’s definitely the life of every party we go to! He’s the extrovert to my introvert. He’s extremely dependable and responsible. He’s strong but also gentle! He can be a little cocky but hey, he’s earned it! He’s the best guy I’ve ever met and I would never want to live another day of my life without him. There’s not another guy on this Earth that I love like I do him and I just wish he realized how much I care for him. He can be very self doubtful about himself even though he can also be the most confident person in the world. I love him with all of my heart and I just hope when I finally tell him how I feel, he won’t turn me down.

Dean dropped the paper to the table, unable to look at it any longer. He was barely keeping the tears from falling as his heart shattered into pieces. He had everything on Cas’ list, yet Cas had chosen another person instead of him. All because Dean had been too chicken to admit his feelings. He looked up at Cas and tried to plaster a smile on his face. “I hope this guy realizes just what a gift he has waiting for him. You’re amazing Cas and anybody would be lucky to call you theirs.”

Cas smiled. “Thank you, Dean. He is a pretty awesome guy, and there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

Dean sighed, trying to keep the bitterness from leaking into his voice. “Then why aren’t you with him? Why didn’t you show him this list instead of me? Do you want me to proofread the damn thing for you?” So, he was being a bit of an ass. He just found out the guy he was in love with didn’t like him back. How else was he supposed to respond?

Cas laughed softly. “No, I don’t want you to proofread it. As far as why I didn’t just hand it to the guy, I actually just did. He’s being a little dense right now.”

“Wait, what?” Dean exclaimed, his eyes locking with Cas’. Had Cas just said what he thought he said? Dean tried to keep his hopes in check in case he had heard wrong.

Cas stood to his feet and walked over to stand beside Dean. He reached for Dean’s hand and wrapped his fingers around Dean’s. “You are the guy in that letter.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times before squeaking out, “Me?”

“Yes, you. I saw your letter to me when I went to get your dirty clothes and figured I’d write one of my own,” Cas explained. He squeezed Dean’s fingers and smiled brightly at him.

Dean stared at Cas before reaching up and cupping his cheek in his hand. “You really mean it?” he asked as he searched Cas’ eyes for any sort of lie.

“Every word,” Cas said softly. “I love you Dean, so much it hurts.”

“I love you too, Cas! I’m sorry it took so long,” Dean said, a tear sliding down his cheek.

“That’s ok, we just have lots of time to make up for! There’s a few things on our lists that I want to make a reality ASAP,” Cas replied with a smirk.

Dean’s eyes went wide as a smile stretched his lips. “Oh fuck yes,” he cried before crashing his lips against Cas’. Cas responded immediately, sliding his hands into Dean’s hair and slotting their mouths ever tighter together. They finally had their favorite person in their arms!

#suptober20 #My writing #my OTP #Destiel

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percywinchester27 · 4 years ago

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A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-10)

Word count: 5.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff :)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: No angst again! And good stuff. I am being very nice these days ;)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23. Athina, you’re a goddess <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

10th September 2008

You woke up to something soft tickling your face, almost feather light and pleasant. Opening your eyes, you found Sam’s arms wrapped around you, nestling you in them. A glowing warmth spread through your body as you remembered last night, his lips on your skin, and the feel of his hot breath on your face. The way he had called out for you was enough to raise goosebumps on your skin now. And he’d said he loved you. Your heart thrummed in your chest at the memory.

Slowly, you removed his arm from over your body and slipped out of bed. You wanted to kiss him on his forehead or the point of his nose but Sam looked so peaceful you didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

You pulled over the T-shirt and the boxers Sam had lent you last night and headed down to the kitchen. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to skip dinner after a morning of hangover because your stomach was churning weirdly.

Would everything be different now? After last night. You felt like your heart would burst from all the love you were feeling. Without giving the task at hand much thought, you fried some eggs, toasted the bread and put the coffee pot on a boil, wondering what Sam had for breakfast.

With an excitement that you had never felt before, you carried the tray laden with food upstairs, wondering how to wake Sam up. As it turned out, Sam was already sitting up, a confused expression on his face. The sheets were bunched around his waist and the sight of his naked torso made your face feel hot. When he saw you, his eyes lit up, a smile replacing the frown.

“Here you go,” you said, placing the tray before him and then joining him on the bed.

His eyes softened. “You didn’t need to,” he said, gesturing towards the food. “Not seeing you here, I was starting to worry that last night had been a dream.”

“Only the best dream of my life,” you muttered, pouring his coffee. “Black with half spoon sugar. Just like you have it.”

Sam was still stuck on your words. He took the cup from your hands and placed it back on the tray, then pulled you to him. “That’s just it. I didn’t want it to be a dream. Even if it was the best dream ever. All dreams, even the best ones end when you wake up. But with you… I don’t ever want this to end.”

You reached out and kissed him. At first he was surprised, then he leaned into it. Kissing Sam was like a breath of fresh air for your soul. If it was left to you, you would spend an obscene amount of time kissing him.

“This is one way to start the day,” he chuckled.

“Mhmmm…” you sighed, handing him the coffee and starting on the eggs.

“Funny that Jo didn’t turn the place upside down looking for me,” you wondered idly. You should have told her where you were last night.

“I called her when you got here,” Sam said. “When er… when you were having a bath.”

Sam was always so thoughtful. Last night it hadn’t even occurred to you to let Jo know, about the acceptance or the fact that you were here, and you weren’t particularly proud of it. Absentmindedly, you scooted closer to Sam and like it was the most natural thing to do, he put his arm around you. The heat coming of his skin and his scent was so comforting, you all but melted against his side. A girl could get used to this.

“Hey,” Sam nudged you with his lips pressed in your hair. “You know that NC Central is only a seven hour drive from New York, right?”

Of course you knew that. It was a great school, but it was also on the East coast, where Sam would be. You nodded against his neck, lightly tracing the hard lines of his stomach.

“I could drive over the weekends to see you.” There was hope in his voice.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you smiled at the thought of it all. A new school, a new life with Sam in it. You thought of happy weekends and flinging yourself into his arms whenever you saw him. You pictured his wide smiles, and the joy in his eyes when he saw you. “I could hop on a bus on Friday night and be there in New York in the morning. You’d show me around, wouldn’t you? I’ve never been to such a big city.”

“You have no idea,” he said. “I’ve never wanted that job more than now. Hell, I’d throw myself into preparing for the bar, if it keeps us that close now.”

“Mhmm.” You huddled closer to him.

“What’re you thinking?”

“About how I’m going to afford this,” you said. “NC central isn’t that expensive, but it’s still a lot considering I have almost nothing to my name. I don’t want to sell off Gran’s house.”

“You want to make it into a bakery, I remember,” he said, gently, then added hesitantly. “Maybe I could-”

“No!” You sat up straight. “Absolutely not. I can’t ask this from you.” You hurried to explain, seeing the slightly hurt expression on his face. “This isn’t about you in any way. It’s very kind of you to offer, it really is. But I want to do this by myself. I’ll apply for a student’s loan. Like I said, the money isn’t an impossible sum. I just need a guarantor to vouch for me at the bank. I don’t want to ask aunt El cause I know she had some bank problems with the diner. She doesn’t trust them very much.”

Sam looked thoughtful.

“What’re you thinking?” You asked suspiciously. “Don’t think about volunteering.”

His finger was drawing a pattern on your shoulder as he licked his lips. “You know I can’t. I don’t own any property myself. You should ask Dean, though.”

“Dean?” You looked up at him surprised. “Why would he?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Sam countered. “He might not show it, but he does like you. You’re not asking him to pay for your college, you’re just asking him to be a guarantor. He has great credit, the bank won’t refuse that. It’s not like you’re going to dupe him. I know my brother. Trust me, he’ll be happy to help you.”

When you still looked surprised, Sam took hold of your hand and pressed it to his lips. “Don’t overthink this. You said you wanted to do this by yourself, so you bring it up with him. I promise I won’t say a word.”

“You’re awesome. You know that, right?”

He winked. “I don’t know about that. But I’m sure happy you think that!”

You removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the side table, then moved over to straddle Sam, hands placed on either side of his face. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

In a quick moment, Sam flipped you, so that you were lying on the bed with him hovering over you. He dipped down to kiss the hollow of your neck, then whisper against your skin. “The pleasure is all mine.”

***************************************

“You know, if you keep bouncing on the balls of your feet like that,” Meg said drowsily from the table, where she sat flipping through a magazine, “I’m going to side with Kevin on this. You’re hiding something.”

You put your lunch in the bag, wondering just how to tell her. It wasn’t that you wanted to hide your history from your roommate. There was just so much of it, you had no idea where to start. For now, you just settled for, “There’s this professor. I thought he was mad at me. Turns out he isn’t.”

“Wow. It doesn’t take much to get you all chirpy.”

Just the feeling of six years worth of hell coming to an end.

“Ready to go?” You asked and Meg jumped down from the high stool.

“Yep.”

“Is this the same good looking professor?” She asked out the blue as you reached the campus gates.

“How do you know about the good looking professor?” You narrowed your eyes. You had mentioned Sam only to one person in the apartment.

Meg looked taken aback for a second, then said nonchalantly. “Cas told me.”

“You two are really close, aren’t you?” Try as you may, you couldn’t keep the sly tone out of your voice completely.

Meg changed the topic smoothly, but not before you saw the faint blush on her cheeks.

Meg blushing? Speak of novelty.

She waved you a goodbye at the entrance of the law building, heading north to the Physics department. Wondering if anyone else in the apartment had noticed, you entered the class for your first lecture.

Professor Mills was in a great mood today, and she encouraged a debate on whether Legal writing and its syntax should affect how seriously the core content of any litigation is treated. You firmly believed that poor syntax should in no way undermine the severity of any litigation, and made your points with citation. The opposite team consisting of Brad and everyone in Madison’s group tried to put up a strong fight, but you knew you had the moral high ground on that one. Maddy was smiling by the end of it, but the expression on the other’s faces ranged from disappointment to disgust.

Professor Mills mentioned you by your name at the end of the class, lauding you for your points. It was enough to give you the high of the day. You simply loved her.

As the college day neared its end, you were excited for Civil Procedures, excited to see Sam again. Maybe he wouldn’t ignore you now. Maybe he’d actually look at you and smile. Your eyes were eagerly glued to the door, waiting for him while everyone chattered in the background.

It wasn’t Sam who came in. Instead, the TA Paul announced that the lecture has been cancelled for today and tomorrow. Professor Winchester would take double lectures in the following week to cover it up.

“Well, dang it!” Meredith cursed. “After that horrible debate, I was looking forward to seeing that chiseled face.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s disappointed,” Lacey said slyly. “Y/N looks like someone kicked her puppy.”

You schooled your expressions immediately.

Madison rolled her eyes. “Everyone was looking forward to it. Maybe he has something important. Remember he ditched Thursday, Friday on our first week, too.”

“Maybe he’s just playing hooky with his girlfriend,” Rebecca shrugged. You had a maddening urge to slap her. It wasn’t fair to direct all your anger at her; you knew that. However, listening to her words, evaporated the high you had been feeling completely.

How naive of you to think that one small conversation could make everything okay. Maybe he went back home and changed his mind, had seen that the exchange was a lapse in his judgement. Your stomach dropped at that thought. Why did he have to show you a moment of softness, if he was just going to take it all away? It would have been better then, had he continued to ignore your existence. You had been making your peace with it. You didn’t think you had it in you to take one more hit after feeling hope, at last.

Morosely, you started picking up your things.

“Y/N. Don’t forget about the party, tomorrow.”

Madison was looking at you with wide eyes.

You opened your mouth to make up a reason. She cut you off-

“Look, I checked your schedule. You’re not working this weekend. This is your last working day for the week. I’ve made all the reservations and counted you in.”

“Maddie-”

Her brow furrowed. “You’re not going to stand me up, are you? The drinks are on me.”

Looking at her, you just couldn't say no.

“I was gonna say that I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Yay!” She shot out of her chair and flung her arms around you. Surprised, you put your hand against her back.

“Told you she’d come,” Madison told her friends. Lacey gave you a smile, Meredith looked disinterested and Rebecca had her back turned to you completely. That summed it up accurately. For the umpteeth time you wondered how their group functioned at all.

Brad, who had been lingering at the table with his guy friends, gave you a smirk.

“Miss Y/L/N finally gracing us with her presence?”

“Oh, butt out, Brad,” Madison shoved him. “If you keep acting like a dick, she might change her mind.”

“Now we wouldn’t want that, would we,” he said under his breath.

You didn’t want any more of their company than what was absolutely required, so you said your goodbye to Madison and left the lecture hall for the day. With your sulky attitude, returning to the apartment wasn’t an option in case you ran into someone. Those guys were very perceptive and you didn’t want to lie to them anymore.

After wandering aimlessly underneath the pergolas of the Quadrangle, you headed to the library. It was about two in the afternoon; four more hours and it would be your shift anyway.

You decided to have your lunch in the closed quarters of the librarian’s room. There wasn’t much to the room except a makeshift bed, a table, chair and a coffee machine. You could sit there and catch up with the essays after lunch.

The on shift librarian wasn’t Molly today, but this other odd hours guy. She was hovering over him, giving instructions. When she saw you, she ushered you to the side. “It’s his first time. I’m training him for the weekend.”

“Oh.” You looked over at the guy. He was clearly an anxious wreck. You felt bad for him.

“Hey listen,” you said, “Is it okay if I use the librarian’s room? I haven’t had lunch and I don’t want to go to the eateries or the mess.”

She gave you a guilty look. “The room is kinda sorta… ocupado.”

“What?”

“See for yourself.” She took hold of your hand and pulled you towards the room in question.

The door was almost closed, save for a small slit. Through it, you could see Sam sitting on the table, multiple books and files scattered around him. He was absolutely absorbed in whatever he was doing, forehead lined in concentration.

“What the-”

Molly shushed you. “Look, I know this looks weird, but he’s in the middle of something. They convicted one of his key clients, and he said he needed some place quiet to figure this out.”

“What about his firm?” You asked the obvious question.

“Client’s not from SF. He’s from LA. Heading to Acton Gris would be going in the opposite direction.”

“Then what about his office here?” You were so surprised that the questions just flowed out of your mouth.

Molly gave an exasperated sigh. “Students. They keep knocking on the door.” She gave you a desperate look. “Please Y/N, let him be. He’s really worked up about it.”

“Yeah, of course,” you assured her.

She looked grateful. “This isn’t conventional, but he’s one of the good folks around here. I knew him from the alumni fraternity before he started teaching here. In fact, he recommended me for my internship at the LA firm he was working in then.”

That explained why she called him by his first name. She was preaching to the choir about how good Sam was though.

“That’s all fine,” you said. “Just let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

“Molly?”

Both of you jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Molly?” He asked again. “Is that you?”

She pushed the door open.

“Yeah it’s me.” She looked at you. “And this is Y/N. You remember her from the other day, don’t you?”

He smiled at you. It was a tired smile, but it held the mischief of a secret only the two of you knew.

“I remember her,” he said dryly.

All the distress and world ending angst you had been feeling since the class vanished into thin air.

“I-I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you said quickly. “I just came in to check if I could have lunch here. Clearly you are busy working, so I’m just going to go now.”

“You’re not disturbing,” he said firmly. “I’ll clear the table. You can have lunch here.”

“No- no,” you backed off. “Seriously. I can go to the mess.”

“Y/N.” He looked beyond exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in a while. Even his words were heavy. “C’mon, in. At least sit on the bed.”

Molly poked you in the back from behind and you stumbled inside.

The room was a mess. There were papers everywhere. Sam was one of the most organised people you knew. If there was that much mess around him, either he had changed drastically in the years or this was really a disaster situation.

“Tell me if I can help you with anything.” The words were out before you could even think them through.

He rubbed his hand across his face. “I can’t possibly ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

You didn’t know if this fell in line with proper etiquette of how one should converse with a professor, but this was Sam, and he looked ready to drop. To hell with etiquette. You were going to do whatever you could to help.

Behind you, Molly had disappeared back into the library.

He paused, considering your words, then sighed. “Even if you wanted to, this is too much to explain.”

You flung your bag on the bed and rolled up the sleeves of your sweater. “I’ve worked as a paralegal for an asshole boss. I think I can keep up.”

Sam gave you a look that was halfway between impressed and surprised.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath, so softly that you almost missed it. “Alright, here’s the details of the case-”

You listened attentively as he quickly briefed you about this teenage boy, James Feller, who had been arrested for grand auto theft about four years back. The boy testified against the gang, cut a deal with the DA and walked. Now he had been arrested again, and after being let out, jumped the bail. Sam had until tomorrow to fix it or this kid was spending a long, long time in jail. Sam was sure that James hadn’t done it. He had some grabs from CCTV footage to prove his alibi. It only needed to be put together. He might be completely innocent when it came to the theft, but there was still the bail issue to take care of.

“Right, I’ll go through the log to see if there’s anything similar where an underage defendant jumped bail and got out of prison under the jurisdiction of LA,” you said.

“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” he said, astonished again.

You shrugged and pulled out your laptop, signing into the library’s archival server with your password. There were a couple of cases that could be cited in context to Sam’s case. You pulled out the soft copies of the litigations and highlighted the relevant extracts.

“You guys need anything?” Molly was standing at the door. She had her bag on her shoulder. You looked at the clock. It was already six, time for your shift to begin. Where had the time gone?

“We’re good,” Sam said.

“Seriously? You guys don’t need anything? Not even coffee?” She came to stand by the coffee machine. “I’m making a cup for myself anyway.”

You gave in. “I’d like a cup. Thanks, Molly.”

“One for me, too,” Sam caved, too.

“You guys look intense working like that,” she said, filling the pot with water. “Are you making any headway?”

“Y/N found some useful citations.” Sam closed the heavy book before him and leaned back in his chair, rolling the sleeves of his white shirt. The coat had been hung over the back of his chair since long before. You tried not to look at him too much.

“Good on you, Y/N!” Molly said, pulling on three mugs. “How do you have your coffee?”

“Little milk and one spoon sugar,” you said politely.

“Sam?”

There was no response. You looked to see that he was busy with his phone, having not heard a single word of it.

“Let it be,” you suggested, seeing as Molly was shuffling the strap of her bag. “You go on. I’ll manage the coffee.”

“You’re a lovely person!” She noted with just a hint of surprise, then blew you a kiss. “See you later, Chica bonita.”

You poured coffee for him, black with half spoon of sugar, stirred it and carefully handed it to him. He took it gratefully, holding out two fingers as he talked over the phone.

You grabbed your mug and went back to your laptop. It appeared that Sam was talking to a colleague explaining the things he needed to get ready. He took a sip of the coffee and stopped mid sentence, looking at you over his screen in wonderment.

“Chase, I’ll call you back in a minute.”

You had gathered your stuff in one hand.

“Y/N?” Sam interrupted you, voice oddly tender. “You remembered.”

He was holding his mug out. The warm vapours were slightly fogging his glasses.

“Of course I remember.”

There was no way you would forget.

He saw your things wrapped in your hand and the bag slung over your shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” Disappointment clear in his tone.

You shook your head. “I’m just going outside at the desk. It’s my shift now. I’ll continue tagging relevant extracts and have three sets of printouts ready for you. You’ll let me know if you need more time? I can keep the library running all night.”

“You’re the power wielding person here, aren’t you?”

“Sure am,” you grinned. “I’ll leave you it.”

Once outside, you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Being around Sam made you conscious of every little thing… enough to drive you crazy. Maybe it was a good thing that you were going to the party tomorrow. You needed a drink. That thought inadvertently reminded you of Jo- the only sister you’d ever had. If she were here, she would have told you to go for it despite knowing how insane drunk Y/N was and wreck you would be the next day. The memory of her also made you sad, the missing was gut wrenching sometimes. You almost turned on your heel and headed by inside to ask Sam about Jo and about Dean. Were they still together? Did the diner ever get out of the bumpy patch? How was aunt El doing?

Did they hate you for leaving like that?

That thought brought you up short. You didn’t want to know the answer to that question. There was a small hope within you. If Sam of all people could find it in himself to be civil with you, maybe they would, too. Broaching the topic now would be disastrous. It wouldn’t help Sam right now to lose concentration. Hell, he might do a 180 and suddenly remember that he didn’t like you.

You got back to your desk, filing the cards out for the day before getting to Sam’s paperwork. Though it was a manual job, you did it with utmost concentration, knowing how chaotic courtrooms got and how crucial it was to find the right evidence at the right time. Alongside, you carefully read the suit and arranged the stacks according to the order in which they were needed.

“You know, if you kept going at it like that, you’ll have to represent the boy tomorrow.”

You looked up and your breath hitched. Sam stood before you, his shirt partially untucked and sleeves rolled all the way up till his elbows. The tie was gone and the top button of his shirt was undone. There was a glint of silver against his neck, a thin chain. You wondered where it had come from absently. Without the glasses, and his hair slightly dishevelled, you could see some of the guy you had first fallen in love with.

You looked away quickly, blinking several times, then pushed the stack of printouts towards him. All three copies, arranged as per the appearances of the evidence in the suit papers. The affidavits are all the bottom, along with the supplementary copies.

“You should come down to the office and train my assistant,” he said, leaning over the table so that his elbow rested on top. “He can’t find one paper on time.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh.

“Aren’t you having dinner?” He asked, tucking his hair behind his ear. He was nervous.

“I’m not hungry.” Your stomach was already so full of butterflies, you didn’t think any food could go in.

“I’m already feeling terrible that you’re helping me with this… please don’t skip dinner for it.” There was something about his voice that affected your soul. The sound of his words were different from everyone elses. All words felt kinder, lovelier when he said them.

“Why are you fighting for this kid?” The words slipped past you before you could stop them. You had been wondering this all evening. “I saw the papers. You’re doing this pro bono and not for Acton Gris. This is your own case.”

He didn’t reply immediately and his face had a far away look. When he finally spoke, it was in a reminiscing tone. “I met James when he was a foster kid a few years ago. He got pushed into the racket because of bad influence. When I saw him at the retention centre, he broke down completely. They were blackmailing him by threatening to hurt his little sister. When he first got off, he looked at me like I was some kind of miracle.” Sam’s face had an awed look, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could think that of him.

“I knew he wouldn’t get into this again. He’s in college now and has basically turned his life around. We have enough evidence to pin a gang member down for framing him. I don’t want anyone at Acton Gris to help me on this because this is my own case. Putting some poor junior on it is just abusing my power.”

He was a good man. That in itself didn’t surprise you because you had always known it. What surprised you was that he had remained one. Sam used to be starry eyed with ambitions and full of a thirst to do the right thing. He had been so idealistic. It worried you that one day he would wake up and see that the world was an even worse place than what he thought it to be. You worried that the ruthless profession might kill some of the inherent goodness in him. After having lost just as much as you, he hadn’t lost faith in the world. He had remained good.

“What?” He questioned and you realised you were staring.

“There you are!”

Jody Mills stood behind Sam, a harried expression on her face. He straightened up immediately and it occurred to you how close your faces had been.

“I went to your house, called up your PA, and here you are.”

“Jody?” He clearly hadn’t expected her.

She handed him the bag she was carrying. “I have dinner for you. I knew you would bury yourself in the case and wouldn’t cook since you’re by yourself now.”

Now. What did that mean? Lacey’s remark about Sam living in family quarters and having a girlfriend came to your mind. You dismissed it quickly.

“Didn’t see you there, Y/N,” Professor Mills came around. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Actually I just started a week ago.”

Her eyes flitted to the stack in front of you. “And what’s this?”

“Y/N’s been helping me with some printing,” Sam said.

Professor Mills gave him a once over. “Sam Winchester making students work?”

“It’s not like that,” you defended quickly. “I offered to help S- Mr. Winchester. I have some experience as a paralegal and this was only a matter of making copies.”

“You did a lot more than that,” Sam corrected smoothly.

“I was only joking.” she placed a hand on Sam’s arm and you noted that they were probably closer than just colleagues. Friends even. “You, on the other hand, keep surprising me, Y/N. This looks like solid work.”

You blushed at the compliment, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sam gazed down at you oddly. If you didn’t know any better, you might have misinterpreted it as a hint of pride.

“You have your food!” Jody ordered him and waved at you. “See you in class tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Good night,” you wished her.

Before leaving, she glanced from you to Sam and back again, a peculiar look in her eyes, shook her head and left.

She had packed a burger and pack of oily fries for Sam. You saw his brow furrow at the sight of it and smiled to yourself. Some things never changed.

Sam insisted that you have your dinner, too. However, you made sure that while he sat inside, you had your dinner at your desk. There was only so much of his nearness you could take without having your feelings run wild. Sam needed to go through the case files in peace for the court tomorrow. You let him be, only visiting the librarian’s room once to let him know that you wouldn’t shut the library at all. He was grateful for it. After everyone else had left, you wrapped the shawl around your shoulders and put your head down against the wooden desk. Closing your tired eyes just for a second, you let yourself reflect on everything that had happened today and how one day could be more impactful than a month of one's life sometimes.

You woke up several hours later. Grey light was starting to filter from the high windows. It was early dawn.

Hurriedly you got up to check on Sam, but the librarian’s room was closed from the outside, you checked in the seating area, too. There was no one there; you were by yourself in the room.

Back to your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper placed under your paperweight.

It said-

Y/N,

I have to start from here now to make it to LA in time for the hearing. Didn’t have the heart to wake you up. I can’t thank you enough for your invaluable help.

Regards,

Sam.

You clutched the paper tightly in your fingers, crumpling it in the process. Sometimes a few words were louder than a speech. Sometimes the gesture was even louder.

***************************************

A/N 2: You guys! THEY TALKED! I know a lot of you have been like ‘They just need to talk’ and well, it happened. So what do you think? Uphill?

ALL MY LOVE to everyone who commented and reblogged. You guys keep me posting! <3

PLEASE let me know what you think of this story?

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#sam winchester x reader fluff #sam winchester reader insert #sam winchester x reader #lawyer!Sam #professor!Sam #reader x sam #sam winchester AU #allu10 #Ana writes ALLU #anawrites #anawritesspn #q

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berensroadhouse · 4 years ago

Text

(ao3 link)

Davis drags his damp rag across the dusty countertop, sighing deeply once he hits the edge. He scans the barren interior, jumping from empty table to empty table to an empty table with bottles, plates, and crumbs left behind. His previous customers must have dipped when he wasn’t looking. Davis grabs a nearby basket, moving towards the mess. He dumps the plates inside, then the bottles after he guzzles the dregs of beer left behind. Finally, Davis takes what he’s owed. Their bill came out to thirty-eight dollars and ninety-five cents. They paid with two twenties, flat. “Fucking assholes…” Davis pockets the money, returning to his post.

Just another ordinary day at Berens’s.

He brings the used dishware into an equally empty back kitchen, the doors flapping behind him. Davis recycles the bottles and places the dishes in the sink, washing them immediately. As he sets them on the rack to dry, his eyes linger on a framed photograph hanging nearby. He brushes his thumb across a faded face, a wet fingerprint left behind on the glass. Davis smiles, chuckling softly at where water droplets race down Cal’s profile.

He misses him. It’s been so many years, and yet Davis still aches for his touch. Davis remembers the phantom feeling of Cal’s arm draped over his shoulders, of their fingers lacing together, of his nose tracing the lines of Davis’s cheek while they took this picture. It was a beautiful day at the beach for them, on a spring morning where they both decided clear skies were better than the suffocating walls of a lecture hall. They fled the campus and found a deserted shore, and under the cover of an umbrella they talked, ate, and kissed and kissed and kissed until the moon replaced the sun and made Davis’s night-dark skin shine when its light hit him. Cal, in reverence, traced constellations with his lips from memory; him, a creamy-white nebula hovering over Davis’s pitch-black galaxy, both communing in a transcendent ritual. It lasted past curfew. They were grounded. It was worth it.

Someone cuts Davis’s reflection short. A sharp whistle interrupts his thoughts, followed by a gruff, “Anyone home?”

“I’ll be with you in a second!” Davis needlessly dries his hands on the stained apron tied about his waist, hurrying out of the kitchen to greet his new customers.

He finds them waiting by the pool table, the one with deep-brunet hair inspecting the cues while the other, fairer-haired man tickles a hole in the table’s lining. They’re dressed for the beach, in brightly patterned shirts, bathing suits, and flip flops, and Davis prays they haven’t come from it. He doesn’t think his ancient joints can manage an hour of sweeping floors, collecting sand that somehow gets everywhere. Regardless, he plasters a replica of a smile onto his face. He clears his throat, drawing their attention. “Sorry for the wait,” he says, “what can I help you with?”

“Lunch,” Fair Hair says, moving close enough Davis can count the freckles dotting his pinkish cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “What d’you have?”

“Regular fare,” Davis shrugs, “I can get you a menu or –“

“No need,” Fair Hair says, “we’ll have burgers, fries, and beers, the most expensive you have!” Then, as he motions for the darker-haired man to stand beside him, he wraps his arm over the brunet’s shoulders. Davis spies the silver band on Fair Hair’s hand. It matches the one his friend wears. “We’re on our honeymoon,” Fair Hair tells Davis, without invitation to do so.

Davis’s demeanor shifts. A more genuine expression appears on his face, while a warmth rouses the rosebuds sleeping in his chest. It makes their velvet petals bloom, urge forward their aroma, rich and sweet, and causes their thorny brambles to wrap themselves tighter around Davis’s heart. “Congratulations,” he replies, “I don’t have a special newlywed section… but you can sit anywhere, at any table, or the bar… I’ll go and fix up your burgers.” He turns, hiding his glossy, brown eyes before he embarrasses himself. Married men always do this to Davis, unlock a more wistful and sappy part of his soul. Some long-buried piece, that used to dream of a time where he might have had a similar experience to those two on the other side of the kitchen doors.

He places two beef patties on the grill and starts frying oil for the fries.

While cooking, his gaze wander back – as it always does – onto that photo of him and Cal. Inspired by his new customers, he reflects on a memory years after that lazy beach day. They shared an apartment, one that offered little besides its amazing view of the ocean and a balcony they could watch the sun set along the waterline after work. It didn’t matter if Davis’s tips barely added up to a twenty, or that Cal’s eyes went cross from staring at numbers for hours at end, because they’d come home, watch orange bleed into blue, then purple into orange, and when the ink dried above Davis finally went about cooking dinner. Cal watched him; eyes alight like the stove burner that simmered their pasta water. “You deserve your own place,” he told Davis, “that way everyone can have a taste of your amazing cooking.”

Davis shook his head, chuckling. “One day, baby. One day. There’s about a million other things we need to do first, and about half of them involve money.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Cal reached across the counterspace, intwining their fingers. “It might take a while, with how we get paid.”

“It might,” Davis conceded, squeezing Cal’s hand. He brings it up and softly kisses each knuckle. “At least we’re saving where we can. Homecooked meals, cheap place… lucky we can’t get married, so we’re saving money that way.”

Cal frowned, seriousness plaguing him for the moment. He stepped closer, stare intense as he breached Davis’s personal space. “If we could?” he asked, voice hardly a whisper, “would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Want to get married?”

“If they’d let us…” Davis paused, chewing his answer over. He released Cal, moving the steaming pot off the burner. He flicked it off. “I…” He leaned against the stove, arms crossed, “Christ, Cal, I’d want to do more than that.”

Cal arched a brow, head skewed to the side. “What more is there?”

“I’d want a big wedding, with all the bells and whistles,” Davis explained, laughing, “a party, a celebration of you and me as we become… well, you-and-me. Then, after the party, we’d go on a big honeymoon –“

“When we already live next to the beach?”

“A different beach! Maybe an island!” he said, “And once we’ve finished our trip, we’d buy a little property somewhere in the ‘burbs, as we go about looking to adopt.” Davis rubbed his neck, sheepishly peeking through his lashes at a blushing Cal. “What I’m trying to say is… if I could, I’d want more than marriage. I want a life together where we can just… we can be together, without always worrying who might know, y’know? I’d kill for that. Hell, I’d fight to have that.”

Funny, though, that when it came time to fight, Davis lost. He fought the paramedics, but they wouldn’t let him in the ambulance. He fought the doctors, who wouldn’t let him see Cal. He fought Cal’s parents, their harsh words and condemnation like being stoned in front of an eager crowd as they chewed him out for their ‘delusions’. Davis heard Cal passed, but wasn’t there when it happened. He also wasn’t invited to Cal’s funeral, to see him off into his next life. Davis did steal a quick moment, though. A kind nurse took pity on him and snuck Davis down into the morgue. She allowed them a final goodbye, as Davis traced the lines of Cal’s cheek with his thumb and pressed tiny kisses wherever his teardrops fell. “I’m sorry,” Davis croaked, chilled by the waxy numbness of his lover’s lifeless hand, “I’m sorry forever wasn’t as long as we planned.”

Davis assembles the plates messily, mind caught between the past and present like a line of wash. He, hung up by clothespins, is pushed mercilessly by incoming winds. Those clothespins cannot hold forever. The fabric of his body shifts out of their vice-like hold until, finally, he flutters away and out of the kitchen. He returns to the main room of the bar, delivering Fair Hair and his husband’s meals. As expected of newlyweds, they’re wrapped up in each other. The husband whispering into Fair Hair’s ear as they sit on the same side of the table, their fingers laced together atop it. Davis clears his throat, setting the food and drinks down. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” Fair Hair grabs his burger with a free hand, shoving into his mouth despite the silent, amused judgment obviously displayed on the other man’s face. Fair Hair moans around the bite, puffy cheeks bursting with a grin. “Dufe,” he says around soggy chunks of bun and burger meat, “Thif if awesfome!”

“Thanks,” Davis nods, brushing at his apron, “Now, if you need anything, don’t be afraid to holler –“

“Actually,” the husband delays Davis’s exit, pointing behind him and towards the bar. “I was wondering if you could settle something for us.” Davis looks to where he’s directed, at the glowing neon sign that hangs above rows of bottles. It’s similar to the one that brands the front of his business, in a similar script, too. Except where the cowboy hat-and-bandana hovered above ‘Berens’s’ of Berens’s Roadhouse, indoors it was placed next to it. “Dean here,” the husband continues, Dean – Fair Hair’s name, apparently – rolling his eyes at being called out, “thinks there shouldn’t be an extra ‘s’, after the apostrophe…”

“Cas…” Dean whines, unofficially introducing his husband, “You don’t have to –“

Cas continues over Dean, ignoring him. “Meanwhile, I told him that, as long as it’s not plural an ‘s’ should go after the apostrophe. Can you please tell my husband he’s wrong?”

Davis stares at his sign, tracing the curve of the script with his eyes. In the background, Dean argues in a fierce whisper. “Why are you bringing him into this? He’s not gonna admit he’s wrong!”

Cas volleys, backhanding his response at Dean. “It’s his name, Dean, he wouldn’t spell it wrong.”

“Actually,” Davis interrupts, “it’s not my name.” He turns, laughing at their bent brows and Cas’s skewed head and the tiny dots of sauce staining Dean’s mouth. “It was my old boyfriend’s name,” he explains, “Last name.”

Dean leans forward in his seat, burger forgotten for the moment. Cas realizes there’s a meal in front of him and begins picking at it, chewing absentmindedly on a fry. “You named your place after an old boyfriend?”

“Felt only right,” Davis shrugs, “Couldn’t have bought this place without him.” Cal’s job, while lacking pay, had a generous insurance policy. Davis was listed as the sole beneficiary. That, coupled with what Cal left Davis in his will, meant he had enough to buy the little property near the beach like they always planned. Naming it after Cal soothed him, somewhat. That angry, gnarly scar over his chest numbing slightly. “Besides,” Davis says, “at least, with the name… it’s like he’s with me.”

“But not actually with you?” Cas asks, “Like… you haven’t been feeling any cold spots, have you?”

“Cold spots?”

The table jolts, saltshaker sliding a few inches to the left. Davis guesses Dean kicked Cas, from the serious edge to his expression and the apologetic wince on Cas’s. “Sorry about him,” Dean apologizes, “he spent the morning binging supernatural podcasts. Y’know… monsters, hauntings, ghosts. Must’ve fried his brain better than the sun could.”

Davis huffs, smiling. He moves towards the bar, leaning against it to better chat with his customers. “Ghosts?” he says, “No… ain’t nothing like that, at least the kind you’re thinking of.” Davis lets himself imagine Cal like that, tethered to this earthly plane even after passing. His battered body floating amongst empty tables and dirty dishes. Cal chained to their dream, making it a nightmare. Davis quickly dismisses this notion. While he misses Cal, Davis knows wherever he is must be better than this failing monument to Davis’s love. “Maybe if I thought it’d help drum up some business, I’d’ve entertained it. But I doubt ghost stories would help this late in the game.”

“Oh,” Cas hums. Davis recognizes the tone, familiar with it. Hears it from his accountant, his sister, and the occasional guest who dawdles in the front before skipping off elsewhere for food. “Is your business failing?”

“Cas!”

Davis watches them descend into another fight. The paradise of honeymoon quickly crumbling, storm clouds rolling across clear blue skies. He walks behind the bar, grabbing an empty glass and filling it with the tap until the rim is frothy. As he meanders his way closer again, he tunes into their conversation. Dean picks at Cas’s bluntness, while Cas defends his claim in an even pitch that makes Dean sound hysterical.

“He’s not wrong,” Davis joins them, sitting at an unoccupied seat, “I mean… you think I’d be here chatting with you two if there were things that needed doing?”

Dean shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable given how he’s looked at the door five times in the span of a minute. “Sorry to hear that.” He guzzles his drink, drowning whatever else he might have said.

Cas resists the threatening tide of awkwardness lapping at their ankles. “It’s odd that this place isn’t more packed,” he tells Davis, “with the amount of people here – the vacationers alone – there should always be a steady stream of customers.”

“Those lemmings?” he snorts, sipping at his beer, “They’re always chasing after the next thing. What’s new? What’s shiny? When Berens’s was new and shiny, we got a lot of traffic. There was a time when you couldn’t walk three steps without bumping into someone else. But then more fancier places were being built… chains and clubs and all that… I couldn’t compete. I mean, Roadhouses are popular in the middle of nowhere when there’s barely anything else to do! But I’d’ve been damned if I had to live somewhere without the ocean. Would never want to be fuckin’ landlocked…” His eyes find that swirling script of Cal’s last name. Something heavy crushes his chest, each subsequent breath more labored. “It does suck though. This was our dream, having a place that was… ours. Even when it was just me, I still went ahead because, I thought, why not? Wasn’t as if I had much going for me after Cal… but every month now it’s like the water rises a bit higher and keeping myself afloat doesn’t seem all that worth it anymore.” He glances back at the newlyweds, seeing how he commands both their attention. He notices a somberness in their gaze Davis does not care for. “What am I doing?” he asks aloud, scoffing “This is your honeymoon. You probably have something like parasailing or jet skiing planned, right? Probably cutting into your time –“

“No, no,” Cas assures him, lips tight as he smothers the pity straining for release. “That’s not it at all –“

“Yeah,” Dean adds, “We’re all jet skied out from yesterday –“

“Dean!”

“And I’m afraid of heights,” he trails off, shoving fries into his mouth, “so that’s a no on parasailing…”

“What he means,” Cas translates for Davis, “is that we don’t mind listening. It must be stressful, running this place by yourself?”

Davis chuckles. “Stressful is an understatement.” He slides his drink back and forth across the table, its rhythmic scraping sound almost hypnotic. Skrt. Skrt. “You’d think being mostly empty would make it easier, but actually it’s worse.” Davis looks away from them, bouncing around the room. He frowns at how stray sunlight highlights the dust covering his furniture or floating in the air. “Getting to the point where I don’t know why it’s worth it, coming back day after day.”

“Because this was your dream,” Cas says, “Yours and Cal’s.” Davis bites his tongue, holstering whatever pointed he comment he had that might burst his bubble. It’s not his fault. Four minutes cannot compare to the four decades of hell Davis lived through without Cal. Forty years of slowly being picked apart by people who didn’t care nor understand what this place meant to Davis. They saw a building where they could eat for an hour, maybe two, and then leave without thinking twice about it. Dean and Cas didn’t plan on gnawing his ear off with this conversation, they stopped by because they were hungry. They were here for their honeymoon, and some of that magic must shield Cas from the harsh reality of Davis’s predicament. He’s blinded from the pain by those romantic, rosy shades. “Doesn’t that make it worth it?”

“It did, at first,” Davis concedes. He rests his elbows on the table, shoulders sagging with the tiniest amount of relief that feels like water on a blistering, arid day. “But I can’t keep doing something because it’s worth doing… not at my age… not with how business is doing.”

Cas bristles, responding with more heat than appropriate. “But what you’ve done, for as long as you’ve done it, it’s been good,” he insists, “why stop now because of a – a slump!” Davis’s good temperament chars from the observation.

He squeezes his drink, hands trembling. “It’s more than a slump,” Davis says, “it’s a freefall. I’ve been putting in all this hard work, and for what? What do I have to show for it?” Davis finishes his drink, meeting Cas’s fierce gaze with his own. “This place’ll probably do better as a condo –“

“You don’t know that.”

“I might not, but some folks do.” He bites his lip, unsure why he hurls his troubles into these strangers’ laps. Davis guesses it’s because Cas’s eyes, while hard, effortlessly prodded at the truth and that Dean listened like he cared for whatever left Davis’s mouth it made him want to say something meaningful. Or perhaps Davis was tired of keeping this to himself, and these saps were the tipping point. “Got some realtors skulking about, always asking when I’m ready to put this place out to pasture. Condos were one thing that was discussed… so were gyms, a dispensary, a parking lot –“

“You’d let them turn this place into a parking lot?” Cas asks.

“I don’t have much of a choice in my position,” Davis says, “They’ve got money that I need.”

“But you said this place… you named it in memory of your love,” Cas murmurs, softer. He shrinks, drooping slightly. Dean gently cups Cas’s neck and massages with such care Davis sucks in a quick breath. Davis feels the memory of a caress on his neck, enough that he ghosts his fingers over the skin there in case someone had touched it. “If you sell… then isn’t that like giving up on him?”

Davis wondered the same things. He spent countless hours awake in bed, worrying about how admitting failure went past the surface. That giving up on Berens’s meant letting go of that final piece of Cal he can call his.

But Davis, weary from these thoughts, has made peace with this sacrifice. “Everyone else already gave up on Berens’s,” he says, “I’ll only be the last…”

“That’s bullshit.” Dean speaks, finally rejoining their conversation. His sudden outburst places him at the center of this conversation, affixed at his husband’s side. “You shouldn’t give up. Cal wanted this place for you, didn’t he? You were only able to buy it because of him.”

“Because he died,” Davis growls, “That’s how. If he knew how much of a shitshow this whole business would’ve been, I doubt he’d have wanted me to use the money for this. Hell, he’d probably hate if I stayed and pissed away the rest of my money trying to keep the lights on in here. Like stopping footprints from being swept smooth by the tide, it’s like.”

“Well…” Dean fumbles, scratching at his plate for something to do. There’s no food left. Neither on Cas’s plate. Davis knows Cas was too busy to eat. “Okay, what if you sold it to people who… who want to run it as it is?”

“I’d ask them how they think they can do this any better,” Davis sighs, slumping backwards. “Besides, there isn’t anyone who wants to do that who’s also eyeing this property.”

“What about us?”

Davis asks Dean what he said. Dean repeats himself. From Cas’s wide-eyed stare, Davis knows he heard correctly. “Really?” he drawls, sarcasm heavily coloring his tone. “You want to buy this place? Like that?”

Dean shrugs, fiddling with his thumbs. He sweats, spotlight too warm for him now. “Uh… yeah?”

“Have you ever run a restaurant before? Or a bar?”

“No,” Dean says, “But I had family, who ran a roadhouse. Helped them a few times when my brother and I stopped over – we traveled, a lot, for work. It was years ago but I still remember a lot of what went into it…” Dean smiles unnaturally. It reminds Davis of those phony grins motivational snake-oil salesmen would coach suckers into doing in front of mirrors, to inspire confidence. “Besides, Cas and I have been looking for a career change.”

“That is true,” Cas adds, brow raised, “Although we never discussed running a roadhouse.”

“Cas, sweetie, I mentioned how owning a bar might be cool.”

“Bars and roadhouses aren’t the same thing.”

Davis coughs, nipping the budding argument while young. “As nice as the offer is,” he starts, “You boys don’t haf’ta buy this place from me because of pity –“

“It’s not pity,” Dean insists, “No, not at all. I…” He glances at Cas, a strange emotion shuddering across his face. Like maybe he’s seen a ghost. That grip on Cas’s neck visibly tightens. “I know what it feels like, wanting to keep something… of someone you love. A physical reminder that they were here and that they mattered and… they mattered to you.”

Cas leans into his husband’s side. “Dean’s very sentimental.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughs, “I guess you could call it that.” He takes the empty plate with his free hand and stacks it atop the other, pushing them towards Davis, knocking it into the salt-and-pepper shakers and napkin dispenser. “I’ve lost a lot in my life, and I’ve only been so lucky to not just have them come back to me, but to get second chances. Or third chances, or even fourths.” Dean’s lips lift at the corners, flashing a friendly smirk. He definitely appears more relaxed than he did seconds ago. “I want to be the one to give chances, now, because I can. I want to buy Berens’s from you… if that’s okay?”

It’s too good. Davis pinches himself, first. When he doesn’t wake, he knows he isn’t dreaming. He places a hand over his heart. Its strong beat reveals Davis has not died. Still, Davis cannot lower his defenses completely. “This isn’t a sting?” he asks, “Some harebrained scheme cooked up by scuzzy developers to get me to sell?”

“The fuck this look like, Scooby-Doo?”

Cas chuckles, “It might if you brought your ascot with you.”

“Cas –“

“So, you’re…” Davis scrubs a hand over his mouth, pressing it against stubble and focusing on the drag. “You’re serious? About wanting to buy this place?” He huffs a tired breath, tension leaking out of the cracks in his bones and leaving him with little support. Davis collapses on himself, smiling. “What about your honeymoon?”

“Honestly?” Dean laughs, mirroring Davis’s posture, “We were running out of things to do. Probably would have hit the road in a few days, head on back to Kansas.”

“Kansas?” Davis squawks, “You sure you aren’t using this as an opportunity to jump ship from there?”

Cas sips at his drink, a bead of condensation falling off it from how long it went untouched. “We love Kansas,” he tells Davis, “but where we live now it… there’s a lot of baggage there. We want to start fresh.”

“Besides,” Dean adds, “my brother was talking about renovations, making it more… work-friendly. Figured it’s best me and Cas dip and let the little brat have a go at it on his own. He’s earned it, I guess.”

Davis nods. “If that’s all…” His gaze darts to the neon sign, a question in his mind. “Hey,” he says, “if you are plannin’ on doing this… this crazy idea of yours, are you – do you have any preference to what you call this place?”

Dean taps at his chin, drawing the silence longer than necessary. “Well… a few come to mind. Harvelle’s… Campbell’s… Singer’s… hell, I could follow your lead and name it after Cas here, Novak’s – “

“You’re not funny.” Cas elbows Dean hard enough the other man gasps from the pain, the other two delighting from the bug-eyed look that flashes. “We’ll keep it Berens’s.”

“Thank you,” Davis says, standing, “Really… I – this is good. Great, actually. You want another round? On the house?”

“Hey!” Dean protests, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, “No giving away free booze! That’s our profit you’re eating into…”

“Not yet,” he jokes, digging through his pockets, “Deed’s not yours until the I’s are dotted and money’s in my hands.” Davis finds what he searched for, tossing a quarter towards them. Cas catches it, effortlessly. “Why don’t you pick something from the jukebox, my treat!”

He rises, and Davis turns to round the bar. Davis grabs three smaller glasses, and the Jameson he keeps on the highest shelf. He pours them each a generous fifth, maybe more. It’s a celebration, after all. As he carries the drinks back over, the opening chords of a familiar song start. Davis nearly drops the drinks.

His expression must concern them, because Cas clears his throat and asks, “Is this okay?”

Elvis croons from the speaker. Davis’s face strains from the too-wide grin threatening to crack his face in twain. “It’s perfect,” he says, settling at the table. He distributes the drinks, Cas joining them. “Cal always dug Elvis.”

“I get it,” Dean says, “guy was a hunk, for the fifties.”

They spend the next hour like that. Getting drunk, discussing the hardships of running a business and debating Elvis’s legacy as ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ plays in the background on loop. During a lull in their conversation, Davis feels, for the first time, that Cal is alive again.

It wasn’t because of the bar, or how it fares. But because of these two men, a sense of calm washed over him. They make Davis hopeful for the future.

Berens’s is in good hands.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #destiel fanfic #deancas #deancas fanfic #destiel wedding #destiel honeymoon #berens's roadhouse

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unnatural-narrative · 4 years ago

Text

Bro

What if Dean and Cas got drunk together

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975014

Truth or Dare

Dean wasn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to angel crap.

Cas appearing out of the blue certainly wasn’t one of them, but at least now he was used to it enough that he didn’t jump out of his skin when he saw Cas standing in the middle of their motel room.

That didn’t stop him from nearly spilling his beer he was nursing on himself as Cas appeared in the corner of his eye.

“Jesus-”

Cas looked at him with uncaring eyes. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, putting his beer on the nightstand. He willed his heart rate to go back to normal, well as normal as it could be without the alcohol pumping through his system. But Dean was only three beers in, with his experience he knew it probably wasn’t that much higher.

“I see you got our message,” Dean said, putting his laptop aside.

“Yes,” Cas said, scanning the motel room. “But I don’t understand why you need my help. Is there something wrong? Did you find Jesse?”

“No, nothing like that.” Dean didn’t even want to think about the little antichrist and how badly they almost fucked up with him. Lying, going to his mom, telling her where he was wasn’t the smartest move. Cas didn’t fair any better. Frankly, Dean thought it was lucky they were all alive after he saw what the kid could do. They had had too many close calls, too many to count and Dean suspected with the coming apocalypse, the number wasn’t going to start decreasing.

Dean got up from the bed, suddenly at a loss for what to say, forgetting why they even invited Cas over in the first place.

“Uh,” he started with. “How are you feeling?”

Dean felt Cas’s eyes roving over him, searching for hidden meaning. “I’m… fine. Considering the circumstances.”

Before he could stop it, a chuckle came from Dean. “Yeah. I don’t suspect anyone would like getting turned into G.I. Joe from Rosemary’s baby.”

“Did you find the Colt?”

“No, not yet-”

“Then I don’t understand your summonings.”

“What? No, it’s not. I mean-” Dean gave up trying to explain himself and pushed past Cas to the mini fridge sitting under the tv. He pulled out a beer, turned and held it out, expectedly at Cas.

Cas took it after a second, tentative. His eyes go from the beer to Dean. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Drink it, Cas. Boys night in! What do you say?”

Cas looked back at the beer, quizzically, using both of his hands as if he expected the can to magically hop away.

“Boys night…” Cas said.

“Yeah…” Dean said, doubt creeping in as the awkwardness of the night was suddenly making an appearance to him. God, why did he even think of this idea? “A little get together. You, me, Sam, booze. Maybe watch a little West coast football. Waddya say?”

Dean didn’t expect Cas to say yes. Hell, he didn’t even think Cas would come tonight let alone hang out with the people that turned Cas’ world upside down. Didn’t he have heavenly shit to do?

Cas still wasn’t answering, so Dean went back to the nightstand and took a sip of his own beer.

“Where’s Sam?” Cas said.

“Beer run. But we got some heavy stuff in the trunk if you’re interested.”

“Heavy stuff?”

“Shots. Tequila.” Dean paused. “You ever got smashed before?”

“No, I can’t say I have,” Cas said, looking at the nutritional facts on the side of the can. “Besides all the affects of alcohol uh… ‘don’t do it for me’ as you say.”

“Well, let’s test the theory a little bit, don’t you think?” Dean smiled, taking another sip. The beer was losing its chill, the carbonation wasn’t attacking his tongue as strong as when he opened it. Dean wished Sam would be back soon. He was almost halfway done.

Cas looked at him curiously. “I don’t understand. What do you require of me?”

“Uh. I require you to drink that beer,” Dean said as he sat at the corner of the bed. “Come on, sit down. I want to know what a beer tastes like to an alcohol virgin.”

For a second it looked like Cas was going to protest, but then his mouth closed. He slid out the desk chair and sat across from Dean a little too close for Dean’s comfort, their knees centimeters away. Dean let it slide, for now.

Cas looked at the beer then at Dean.

“Here-“ Dean set his beer between his knees and took the can from Cas’ hands. “You pull the tab like this.”

With a sharp, metallic snap he cracked open a cold one and handed it to Cas. Cas still took it gingerly. When Cas didn’t drink, Deran raised his own beer to his lips, and finally, Cas echoed his movement.

“So?” Dean asked when Cas swallowed. “What do you think? You in?”

“It tastes like molecules.”

Even though it wasn’t funny, Dean had to laugh. “I’ve drank worse things than that, compadre. But, uh, thanks for your honesty.”

“Dean, what am I doing here.”

“Because… we’re friends, duh.”

Cas considered him a moment before playing along. “Right.”

It’s not like they weren’t friends before. But they never officially “hung out”.

Dean realized this when he (again) almost lost Cas that day. Cas already died once this year, and once was enough.

So what if Dean was the reason for Sam going on a beer run. It’s not like he can drink alone tonight. The uselessness against the onslaught of the apocolaypse might be wearing on him, but right now, he just wanted a fucking break. Maybe he had more than three beers. He had been sober as soon as Sam went off. Somehow, this run-of-mill demon drama this week, somehow he was craving something more tonight.

“Cas, this is what we humans call ‘asking you to prom’.”

“What?”

“We want to hang out with you, dumbass. Stick around, enjoy a beer… talk a little. I just thought we could-“

“Explore each other’s emotional bonds with each other.”

“Well, jeez, Cas, when you put it like that. Why can’t you get drunk?”

“My tolérance level can’t compare to the mind of mortals.”

“Well, okay then,” Dean said. “Then in that case, lets test that theory.”

“What?”

“I wanna see if I can out drink an angel.”

“Dean, I wouldn’t recommend that.”

“What, you chicken? How do you know your tolerance level if you’ve never tested it?”

“My grace takes care of all my vessels automatic functions.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, okay. Sounds like you’re scared.”

“No, it’s just that you’d be at a disadvantage.”

Dean blinks at Cas, a smile tugging on his lips. “Is that so? Ooh, I know, we should play a drinking game.”

“A game where you… drink?”

“Yeah uh, like Never Have I Ever, Truth or Dare-“

“Go fish?”

“I mean,” he laughs towards Cas. “Anything can be turned into a drinking game, but I think I’d rather stick to Truth or Dare.”

“How do you play?” Cas asked. Dean was surprised. He didn’t expect the angel would want to stay.

“Uh simple, you have to choose between telling the truth or doing what I tell you.”

Dean had had seven dreams the past few weeks about exactly that, but he willed his brain not to think about it.

“And if I don’t?” Cas’s eyes locked with Dean and for a moment, Dean can’t breathe. He suppressed a shiver and moved on like nothing happened.

Dean grinned. “Then you have to drink. Hold on.”

Dean kicked in the motel bedroom a bottle of tequila, salt, and three shotglasses. “Let’s make this more interesting. Every time you don’t answer a question, or doesn’t do the dare has to take one of these.”

“And this is a common bond strengthening that’s been shared for millennia between man?”

Dean shrugged with the bottle of tequila in his hand. “Pretty much.”

“Well, frankly, I don’t know what I expected.”

“You mean you have no idea what humans do in their freetime?”

“It never piqued my interest until now, no.”

“You’re interested now?”

“You could say that.”

Dean felt Cas’ eyes as he sat down, laying his supplies on the bed. He didn’t ask what Cas could mean.

“Alright Cas, truth or dare.”

“I pick one?”

“Yep.”

“...Dare.”

Surprised, Dean smiled. “Ooh, you’re going to regret that. Take a shot.”

Cas blinked at him. “Right now?”

“No, next Tuesday. Yes, right now, it’s truth or dare, man.”

“Okay.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Here, I’ll teach you,” he said, putting his beer on the floor.

Dean made him hold up a shot glass while he filled it, the tequila’s pungent aroma reaching his nose. He then took it and made Cas hold another. He then licked the back of his hand and, ignoring Cas’ confused expression, poured salt on his wet hand.

“Wish we had limes, but this will do.”

Without being told, Cas copied him, tongue quickly darting in and out of his mouth, marking the back of his hand. Dean salted his hand and said: “Lick the salt then take the shot.”

“Why?”

“It’ll make it taste better.”

“Oh. Why are you taking one too? It was my dare.”

“Can’t let a man take his first shot alone.”

“Is that another human ritual?”

“No, but it should be. Works for all parties involved.” Dean hold up his shot glass. “Cheers, man.”

Thankfully, Cas knew how to cheers. He had taught him that at the brothel Dean had taken him to. Cas had learned a lot that night, more than Dean thought, évédent of the fact that Cas knew how to take a shot. One swallow, all going to the back of the throat, just like Dean did it. Dean watched Cas’ Adam’s apple bob up and down just as the burn at the back of his throat spread into a warm feeling in his stomach. Should’ve ate something today…

It was no sooner than Cas swallowed, he broke into a fit of coughing.

“Whoa, you okay?” Dean laughed, clapping his friends’ shoulder. “How’d that go?”

“It’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t drink it for the taste.”

“Even if I did have human habits, I don’t know how that would be worth it.”

“So, you don’t feel anything?”

Cas sat up straight after the coughing. He frowned and looked down at his shot glass.

“No. But… there may be a point where my system can be overloaded… then I might feel something.”

“So drink enough and you might get a buzz?”

“Possibly.”

“Hell, I’ll take it. We’ll get you feeling good by the end of the night.” The shot he just took winked at Cas.

The corner of Cas’ mouth twitched. Dean wanted to see the whole smile.

“You’re drunk already Dean. I don’t understand, I thought we were waiting for Sam.”

“Yeah, we are. We’ll just have a head start. Sam will have to catch up. We’ll get him with a good dare. But in the meantime, let’s see what you got. Ask me.”

“...Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Dean declared.

“...I dare you… to take a shot.”

“What, come on you can’t repeat dares!”

“You didn’t tell me this before.”

“Well, I thought you had a little imagination, Cas. You want to make them do something they wouldn’t normally do. Eat a spoonful of mayonnaise, streak naked through the parking lot. That sort of stuff.”

“Oh.” Cas’s eyes look around the room for inspiration.

“Take a shot… with no salt.”

Dean gave him a look. “Seriously? Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I want to see what it looks like.”

“What, being drunk?”

Cas nodded.

“You’ve seen me drunk before, Cas.”

“I think that was a different blood alcohol than what you’re at now.”

“You can tell my blood alcohol level?”

“Well, not exactly. But I can take a pretty good guess.”

Can you now? He wanted to say, but didn’t, because reasons.

“Fine. I’ll take a shot. But only for you to realize what you’re missing as a human.”

“I’ll study closely.”

Dean lifted his eyes to where he was filling the shot. Was Cas flirting with him? Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but he couldn’t disguise the ease he felt when he was around Cas, especially, now, letting his guard down with this stupid game and the drink running through his veins.

“Cheers to you, the biggest douchebag in all of holy heaven.”

Dean knocked it back, the tequila going down easier than the first one, despite the lack of salt distracting his tongue from the taste. That was a bad sign. Then he found Cas’ eyes. No. This was a good sign.

“If this is all we’re doing with the dares, I’ll just pick truth instead.”

“I thought the point of the game was getting drunk.”

“I didn’t know you would go for maximum damage.” He had to get back at him now. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

Again, a surpriser.

“I dare you to bring me top-shelf tequila. And you have to drink the whole bottle by the end of the night.”

After a pointed stare, Cas disappeared in a woosh of wind and reappeared a moment later, holding a very big, very expensive bottle of tequila.

Dean laughs. “Nice. Much better than my $12 shit.”

Cas shifts the bottle into both of his hands.

They both speak at the same time.

“Do you want to-“

“Can I have a -“

“Try it?”

“Taste?”

They both look up at each other from the bottle. Dean got caught in Cas’ stare, absentmindedly licking his bottom lip. Cas eyes the movement.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll make it a little easier for you.”

Dean took the bottle out of Cas’ hands and poured another shot for him and Cas. Dean started to think he was enjoying himself because the warm feeling in his gut steadily spread up his chest and into the back of his head.

Cas was his bar: holding up the two shotglasses while it took Dean two hands to pour the bottle. Deans fingers brushed Cas’ when he took his glass. This is was his third shot in ten minutes.

Cas and Dean clinked their glasses together, but Dean couldn’t think about anything to cheers to.

“To the end of a very long year.”

“Dean, it’s October.”

“Ain’t too soon to start celebrating.”

Dean’s shot went dutifully down the hatch, but he couldn’t help but make a face when he resurfaced. Cas shot his down a moment later.

“Truth or dare?” Cas said.

“Truth,” he relented. His vision was swimming. It was a nice feeling.

“I assume this part of the game also ends in humiliation for the players?”

“You got it.”

“...When was the last time-”

Here it comes.

“-you were happy?”

Oh. That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Come on, man, you can’t ask that.”

“Why not? If you don’t, you’ll have to take a shot.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I said a drink. It doesn’t have to be a shot.”

“I thought you said you could outdrink me. You also said I could ask anything I want. Are you sure you know how to play this game?” Cas’ eyes focused on Dean. “Answer the question.”

“I don’t know. When we found James Dean’s car, that was pretty gnarly.” Right now was a close second though. “Why’d you go all deep all the sudden?”

“I just… wanted to know. I’m sorry if I broke another rule.”

“No, you didn’t it’s just- No one’s ever asked me if- In the game- It’s usually how many girls you’ve been with or how many drugs you’ve taken. Not any Dr. Phil crap.”

“So the question worked? It made you uncomfortable anyway?”

“No, I guess it’s just…pretty surprising hearing that talk from you.”

“I’m just trying to understand what I rebelled for.”

“What did you rebel for?” Dean asked.

“Dean. I didn’t pick truth.”

Dean had to stop himself before he swayed too far in Cas’ direction. He covered it up with an easy smile and a little laugh. “Oh, so it’s your turn now. I didn’t know you’d like this game so much. Dare then. Okay.” He took a pensive little sip of his beer. “I dare you to pick truth next term.”

“You’d waste your turn on that? That can’t possibly be legal.”

“There’s something you don’t want me to ask, Cas?”

“I’m just making sure the game is fair.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Truth or Dare, Dean.”

Oh, what the hell. “Truth.”

“How many sexual encounters encounters have you had before?”

Dean cracked a smile. “Can’t say I’ve kept track. You’d be the first angel I’ve...that um, ever asked me that.”

“What do you think a rough estimate would be?”

“Why are you so keen to know?”

“It was one of your suggestions, Dean.”

“16.”

Cas only nodded to that information. “I see.” Cas looked down to where he was holding his beer and shot glass in both of his hands. “What did you want to ask me?”

So many things. Why did you pull me out of heaven? What’s it like being an angel? How many sexual encounters have you had? But what came out was: “Why’d you agree to play?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a stupid game, why are you playing with me?”

Cas studied him for a moment before tilting his shot glass towards Dean.

It took a moment for Dean’s alcohol filled brain to catch up.

“What-? Seriously? You’d rather drink than answer that?”

“It’s not like it’lll affect me.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, hotshot.”

As Dean was filling up his shot, a question burned inside Dean’s body, heating him up from the inside. Why didn’t Cas answer? Dean felt his ears turn pink as he looked up at Cas- and was met with the most startling, electric-blue stare that made Dean overfill the shot glass, spilling clear liquid all over the angels lap.

“Shit.” Dean set down the bottle and pressed the sleeves of his jacket to Cas’ pants before he knew what he was doing. Cas’ legs were warm to the touch.

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas said, but he didn’t try to push him away.

“I’ll get you a towel-”

“Dean-” Cas’ hand snaked out and caught the wrist of Dean’s. Dean stopped getting up, breathless.

“Truth or Dare,” Cas asked him. Dean sank back against the bed. He realized he didn’t want Cas to let go.

“Whoa, there, Speed Racer. You got to finish your shot.”

Never taking his eyes off of Dean, Cas took two swallows of tequila. The hand that held the shot glass pressed against the back of Cas’ mouth to get stray drops of moisture, but he still didn’t let go of Dean.

“Look at you, big boy.” Dean smiled. “Do you feel anything yet?”

“Maybe,” Cas said. He looked at his own thumb brush against the edge of Dean’s jacket. “There’s something.” Cas’ eyes raked slowly up, finally stopping when meeting Dean’s. “Truth or Dare,” he said, deadpan and deep.

For some reason Dean felt that Cas wanted him to pick dare. “Truth,” he said defiantly.

“Why are you addicted to alcohol?”

Dean felt his blood run cold. He thought a minute, sucking on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be? You saw me in hell.”

“Do you still get nightmares?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Hey, buddy, one question at a time.” He took a sip of beer, pulling back his hand. He had let that gone on long enough. But, damn, that tequila was getting to him. “Every damn night,” Dean said quietly. He avoided Cas’ gaze. After a moment, he said: “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Angel, you never fail to surprise me.”

Cas raised a tortuous eyebrow.

“What’s your addiction, Cas?” he heard himself say.

Cas looked down at his own hand, fingers curling around the absence of Dean’s.

Cas was silent for a long moment.

You, Dean wanted him to say.

“Humanity,” Cas answered.

“Seriously? Come on, man. What’s so great about mankind? We fight, we kill. We drink.”

“I don’t think you give yourselves enough credit, Dean,” Cas said, pinning him with his stare. Dean didn’t realize how close they were until he felt Cas’ baritone, deep inside his chest. Dean wanted to close his eyes and take all of the moment in. Cas’ eyes, that feeling in his gut, the simple knowledge that he knew he was getting closer and closer to Cas.

“You… find joy in the darkest of times, you love, you… play games. Even though it’s the end of the world.”

Dean felt himself swallow. They stared at each other, both of them breathless.

“Cas,” he said, barely a whisper. “Ask me.”

Dean looked at his friends’ hair and wanted to run his hand through it.

“Truth or dare?” Cas asked. Dean couldn’t move.

“Dare,” Dean breathed.

“Kiss me.”

:P and then sam comes back

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years ago

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Chapter Eight: Here's To Hoping

(Image not mine)

Rated: PG

~You see I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me He told me everything that's good and bad about my history

He told me that you are, you are the future

And the future looks good The future looks good to me~

"Jack," Sam sighed, checking his watch, "You gotta face the possibility that Marty may not be coming."

Jack was pacing back and forth across the motel's parking lot, trying his best not to slip on the crystallized asphalt. Dean had called the frozen tarmac 'Black Ice' and Jack felt that the term was quite accurate, it did feel like he was trying to walk on ice. But Jack just couldn't stand still. It was seven thirty-five A.M. and Marty still had not showed.

"No, she's coming. I'm sure of it!" Jack said with conviction, wringing his hands before shoving them into the pockets of his jacket. The small amount of force he applied was enough to throw him off balance. Jack's feet slipped out from beneath him and his head smacked against the frozen tarmac.

Sam flinched in sympathy but didn't move from the spot where he leaned against the Impala. He made no move to help Jack up as this was the sixth time he had bashed his head on the black ice in the last fifteen minutes. That fall and the five others before it would have been enough to kill or at least critically injure your typical human being.

So naturally, or rather unnaturally, Jack sat up and rubbed the back of his head. The blood soaked his hand as the wound quickly mended itself. Soon all that was left of the injury was a puddle of blood, nearly identical to five others on the ground that quickly began to freeze. Jack scooted on his knees to the edge of the parking lot and used the snow gathered there to wash the crimson substance off his hand. He stood carefully before beginning yet another round of pacing that would most likely end the same way it had the last six times.

Jack wished he could be sitting in the Impala with Dean and Cas but he found that waiting for Marty was more important to him, so he kept pacing. He wouldn't have to wait much longer. Dean had said that they would wait until eight o'clock before going to look for her. That arrangement had taken quite a while to agree upon. When Marty had failed to show up at six o'clock, Jack had immediately feared the worst.

"What if-what if she's hurt, or something? What if she got kidnapped?" He had worried.

"Jack, I'm sure everything is fine. People have different versions of what 'bright and early' means," Dean had reassured him, taking a long sip of coffee. He did not want to be up, but one thousand miles was a long way to go, so it was best they got up early. Besides, the earlier they checked out, the less they would have to pay, the motel charged by the hour and the rates weren't cheap.

"I know, but you saw what happened last night! What if those guys came after her again?" Jack had leaned back against the Impala's seats. The only reason he had gotten into the car in the first place was for the air conditioning. He was deeply worried that Dean might just decide to take off without Marty.

"Jack raises a valid point, Dean. The odds that those men from the bar should come after Martina, are considerable," Cas noted.

"Fine, if the shrimp doesn't show by eight, we go looking for her, and if we can't find her by ten, then I don't care; we're leaving without her," Dean decided. That was when Jack climbed out of the vehicle and began his trek back and forth across the parking lot. Sam had just followed him.

"I dunno, Jack. She seemed sorta skittish, don't ya’ think?" Sam now spoke.

"What are you saying?" Jack asked, turning to Sam.

"I'm saying that maybe you freaked her out. Maybe she got scared and ran off. Maybe- I don't know- maybe she's hiding, or something." Jack's eyes narrowed.

"You think she's scared of me?" He asked, though it sounded like more of a statement than a question. "What did I do wrong?"

"No, no. Jack, you didn't do anything wrong. I think, maybe she's just scared of coming with us- of what that might mean for her. I don't think she's scared of you, Jack. Marty doesn't seem like the sort of person that scares easy," Sam reassured. A smile tugged at the corner of Jack's mouth.

"You're right. She doesn't."

"If she doesn't show, we'll go looking, but you have to be ready in case she's changed her mind."

"She-she wouldn't do that, she promised!" Jack insisted.

"Sometimes people break their promises," Sam warned.

"She's coming. I know she is."

"Okay, Jack." Sam ducked back into the car, leaving the young Nephilim to wait in the cold. Jack turned on his heel to resume pacing.

He forgot he was standing on the ice.

Down Jack went. Yet again. Bashing his head on the asphalt. Yet again.

This time, Jack decided to just stay down for a bit and closed his eyes. He could hear Dean's obnoxious laughter echoing from inside the Impala. Jack came to the conclusion that black ice, and ice in general, was hard, impossible to walk on, and absolutely unforgiving when you slammed your head against it. Jack decided that he didn't like the black ice, he decided that he didn't like ice at all. This was fortunate as seemed as though the feeling was mutual.

There was a skidding noise somewhere off to his left and Jack opened his eyes. He turned his head towards the sound and directly beside him was Marty's amused looking face, only eight inches from his own.

"That was the most graceful thing I think I've ever seen in my life. You should consider ballet, Jack," She said.

Marty lay on the ice next to Jack with her head propped up on her elbow. Her mouth was twisted in a smirk and she held an eyebrow in a raised position. The expression appeared condescending, but Jack could see the sparks of affectionate mirth gleaming in her eyes.

Now, the reason why Marty was laying on the ground was a mystery to Jack. He was also baffled as to how she had managed to sneak up on him the way she had. If she had been walking down the street, he would have seen her coming, but he hadn’t, and it wasn't as though he had been laying on the ground for very long. If she had been close enough to see him fall, then how had he not seen her? Jack sat up and his brows pulled together in slight confusion.

"Where did you come from?" He asked. Marty followed his lead and sat up with a shrug. A large, overstuffed backpack was slung over her shoulders, yet she carried it with ease.

"From over there," She said, causally gesturing to the thicket of trees just behind the Motel as if it was a normal thing for people to go bushwhacking to their destination instead of simply taking the road.

"Why?" Jack wondered. Marty shrugged again.

"Cause' it's faster and way funner than using the road," She answered. Then she blinked and her face sort of scrunched up and she shook her head, laughing to herself. "Funner? Funner? That's not even a word! I think I need to use the sleep." Jack laughed with her for a moment before glancing to his feet and frowning. "What's wrong Jack-Jack?" The line between Jack's brows deepened and he looked to Marty.

"Why do you call me that?" He asked, temporarily distracted from his cold, slippery problem. Marty's mouth twitched with a tiny laugh.

"Jack-Jack is a character in a movie about superheroes. Have you ever seen The Incredibles?"

"No, I haven't."

"Oof, buddy! I'll have to show it to you one of these days, just remind me. Anyway, Jack-Jack is a baby with, like 50 different powers that he just uses willie-nillie and, yeah; it's a pretty funny movie and when you said you had powers and that you're, like two, that's just what I thought of," She explained. "And I'm rambling again, sorry!"

"I don't mind. I like knowing what you're thinking about," Said Jack. Marty ducked her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a shy sort of way.

"Nah, you'll get tired of it eventually." Marty tapped her forehead. "Up here is nothin' but a random mix of movie quotes, song lyrics, and paradoxical questions."

"I don't think so," Jack said, shaking his head. Marty made a face.

"Well I do! I live up there, dude! Anyway, what was the long face for?" Her change of subject brought Jack to his problem.

"I don't like ice," He said, as if that explained everything. Marty raised an eyebrow in question, "It's impossible to walk on!" Jack exclaimed.

"Ah, I see. I guess that explains why you look like a homicide victim." Marty gestured to the frozen pools of Jack's blood on the tarmac and the blood coating the back of his head. "Want some help getting up?" Jack nodded.

Planting her feet on the icy surface, Marty stood and extended her hand for Jack to take. He used her arm to pull himself up, doing his best to replicate what Marty had done to stand. He wobbled a bit and almost fell back down, but Marty caught and steadied him before that happened. When he was vertical again, Jack glanced toward the Impala and realized that now he had to get over to it without falling. Marty was quick to notice his worry.

"Come on, Jack. It's really not that hard, look!" Letting go of his hand and sliding out onto the ice, she twirled once, jumped into the air and then twirled again, lifting her foot to her knee. Her foot touched back down and dragged her to a stop, facing Jack who looked like he'd seen a miracle. "See?" Marty did jazz-hands.

"I don't think I can do that," Jack said, sounding a little intimidated.

"Oh, no way. That took me years, I was just showing off!" She explained with a wave of her hand. Moving back to him, she reached down to pick up an instrument case and wrap a gray plastic grocery bag around her hand.

"You should teach me!"

Marty chuckled and pulled some of her hair away from her face. Her black-to-grey-to-white hair was down again today, descending all the way to her knees. Jack had never met anyone with hair that long, but he thought it was amazing.

"Alright, just remind me take you ice-skating and movie bingeing, kiddo."

"I don't think you can call me 'kiddo'," Jack said with a frown.

"Why not? If you don't like it, I'll stop saying it."

"Well, I am biologically older than you, right?" Jack pointed out. Marty chuckled.

"Where does a two-year-old hear a word like 'biologically'?"

"I heard Sam use it."

"Makes sense." Marty shrugged. "Anyway, you're right, but I call everyone 'kiddo' age doesn't really matter. I call people all sorts of things."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out, honey-bunches-of-oats."

"Is that one of them?"

"Yup!" Marty snatched Jack's hand and helped him over to the car where she knocked on the driver's side window. Dean rolled it down and she glanced at the men inside. "Hey guys!"

***

"H-hey, Marty! You-you came!" Sam greeted me, he sounded surprised.

"I promised I would!" I said, I didn't miss the 'I-told-you-so' look Jack shot at Sam, "Dean, could you pop the trunk? I've got precious cargo." I raised the instrument case with my violin up into view.

"Yeah, sure." Dean climbed out of the car and skidded a little getting to the back where he opened the trunk.

I swallowed deeply. There were a LOT of weapons in there. Dean pulled on a tab and a panel came down, covering the arsenal in the truck's false bottom. I placed my case in carefully and slid it all the way to the back. Taking off my backpack, I positioned it between the case and the truck's door so my instrument wouldn't slide around. It was the most valuable thing I owned; I couldn't have it getting damaged. I then nodded to Dean and he closed the trunk. I was really doing this.

Jack opened the Impala's door for me and clung to it like a lifeline as I gathered my hair and slid into the backseat next to Cas. The boy followed after me and pulled the door shut.

"Here we go." Dean put the car into gear and rolled it out onto the road.

"So, where are you guy's taking me?" I asked, shifting to get comfortable in my seat.

"Lebanon, Kansas," Dean answered.

"Ooh, that's a long way away. I'm sorry I was so late. Did I make you very late?" Dean shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter, but yeah."

"I'm really sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye to somebody," I apologized, "But I brought chocolate! Will that atone for my sins?" I raised the bag of goodies Dan had given me.

"Hell yeah!" Dean reached back and opened his hand for the brown gold. I dropped a truffle into his palm, tossing one into Sam's lap and handing another to Jack. I held one out to Cas but he turned me down.

"No thank you, Martina," The angel said, gently.

"It's Marty, remember?" I corrected him and shrugged, unwrapping the candy. "Well, more for me, I guess." Dean reached his hand back again, asking for seconds. "Dude, this is gonna be a long ride, we gotta save our provisions." I declared, dramatically slapping his hand away.

"Aw, man!"

"Suck it up, butter-cup." I was about to pop the candy into my mouth when I noticed something on the wrapper. "Does anybody here like nougat?" I asked. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes begged for the truffle in my hand.

"I do."

"Oh good! I can't stand the stuff!" I passed him the chocolate. Jack looked at me like I was insane.

"Oh no, Jack. She doesn't like nougat, are you sure you guys can be friends?" Sam joked. At least I was pretty sure he was joking.

"You say that like I committed high treason!" I chimed.

"I dunno, I do feel betrayed," Jack said with his mouth full. I faked a gasp.

"I don't believe this! Jack, are you breaking up with me?" Dean burst out laughing, Sam snorted, and Jack just gave me his lopsided grin. My comment even won a quiet chuckle from Cas. I took that as a good sign.

"Yeah, I think so." Jack chuckled.

"Can we still be friends?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my every word. Jack pretended to think about that.

"Only if you teach me to ice-skate," He mock-decided.

"It's a date! Wait, no its not, you broke up with me." I reached out and shook Jack's hand, sealing our satirical deal. The car shook with laughter and I gave myself a mental tally mark as I tied up my treat bag, placing it at my feet. When the laughter died down, Castiel was the first to speak up.

"Was that an instrument case you brought with you?" He asked.

"Yeah it is. Why?"

"I'd just like to get to know you," He answered simply.

"We all do. So, what instrument do you play, Marty?" Sam turned in his seat to look at me.

"Uh, I play the violin," I answered timidly.

"Are you very good?" Sam wondered.

"Um, well, I don't know. I'm sorta out of practice, but I started playing when I was eight," I replied. Sam chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes." His tone was warm, despite his previous distrust. It made me smile, maybe I was winning him over.

"Okay, my turn," Dean spoke up.

"Yeah?"

"What's with the hair? I mean, that's a lot of hair. Why don't you cut it?" He asked. I bit my lip and nodded, trying to think of an acceptable answer.

"Well, my mom loved to braid hair, and my sisters, Bree and Jackie, hated having long hair so they cut theirs real short and my mom couldn't do anything with it, but I liked having my hair long. My mom would spend hours working on my hair, that was our time together. See, she always got so sad when I would cut it and now I just-" I stopped and looked at the floor of the Impala. "Now I just can't bring myself to cut it. Not without her. I don't want to make her sad. It's all I've got left of her." With a start, I realized I was crying and quickly wiped my tears away with my sleeve.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I cut Dean off.

"It's okay." It had to be.

"Well, what about the color, what's that about? Or does this have a tragic story behind it too?" Dean asked, trying to make a joke. I cracked a smile.

"Oh, I've always wanted to have it like this. I love the fading colors, so hiding from a blood thirty vampire just gave me the motivation to actually go through with it," I shrugged.

"So, what's your real hair color?" Dean pressed.

"Black."

"Wait, that's natural?" He sounded stunned.

"Yeah!" I giggled a little. "The black is real, only the grey and white parts are dyed."

"You're lucky, black hair is cool. Looks good on you too."

"Thanks’ Dean."

That was when we passed the small, wooden sign on the side of the road. The paint was old, faded by the sun, and chipping away but I knew what the words said.

Now leaving Copper Harbor We'll get you back soon enough!

As I watched the town I'd called home for so many years fade from my view, I found myself hoping that I'd never return. I looked forward at the road ahead of me and the hunters beside me.

I looked to the future.

The future was looking pretty good.

~See, I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me He told me everything that's good and bad about my history

He told me you are, you are the future

And the future looks good The future looks good to me~

Lyrics from: The Future Looks Good by One Republic

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years ago

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15x13: Destiny’s Child

Welcome to our last new recap for a while (frowny face). We’ve got a couple requests that we’re going to work on in the next couple weeks, and then chip away at all the episodes we have yet to do while we not-so-patiently wait for more episodes. If you have requests, don’t hesitate to ask!

Then:

Cas loves one (1) pizza man.

Now:

Late night study sesh in the bunker is interrupted when Sam and Dean hear a weird noise down the hall. They take off for the armory, only to find a Fiat and ---SAM AND DEAN?! (And while I guess it’s not, I’m just rolling with the idea that Savage Garden is blasting from that little clown car. I mean, really, what a perfect song and one I never thought would EVER pop up on this show --okay, or any show, it’s been like 20 years since I’ve heard that song, lol.)

The rift flickers and Alt!Sam and Dean disappear.

They tell Cas about what happened. Billie pops up to tell them that Chuck is almost done destroying all the other worlds. They have to be ready --and by that, she means, it’s time for the next step in Jack’s training. He needs to find the Occultum. Sam helpfully translates that as “hidden.” It is hidden --lost for centuries.

Once Billie takes off, Sam sets to learning more about the Occultum. There isn’t much. Dean ponders the futility of killing God. Doesn’t Jack need to kill Amara too? Cas gets a lead on the Occultum from Sergei. Dean and Cas flirt unnecessarily. Cas is so patient with all of Dean’s ideas, I can’t help but think that this is a common thing with these two.

Anyway, the Occultum was owned by the Jacobson family for a long time, until they used it as payment to heal their son. The healer was “attractive, and she healed the child by laying on hands which glowed.” I don’t know if there’s been an unattractive person in this universe, so good luck finding the healer!

Lol, j/k, there’s only one angel healer that’s attractive out there! Sam and Dean find Anael and want her help with killing God. She thinks it’s wiser to stay on the side of the all-powerful being. When the brothers flash their angel blades (eerrr…), Anael confesses that the Occultum is really with Ruby. (I was one of the many rage viewers with this, but well, we’ve been rage watching these writers for so long, and we’ve had to handwave SO much over the years. What’s another plot point that we can easily headcanon at this point? Sigh.)

We get a flashback of Ruby and Anael negotiating the sale of the Occultum. Anael then tells them that the Occultum was never actually sold because they ganked Ruby before she could do anything with it. It’s now safely hidden in Hell.

Jack, meanwhile, is busy getting back to life.

Cas finds him in the kitchen eating EVERYTHING. Jack notes that coming back alive really makes you pay attention to what life is. “Hot, cold, sweet, spicy, funny, scary.” (Kind of like Sam when he was soulless, Jack is describing sensations, and not feelings, emotions, not really getting at what life really is.) They talk about Jack’s soul and what he felt when he had one.

Jack admits that he understands that he hurt Sam and Dean, and wonders if Dean will ever forgive him for what he did to Mary. “Dean, he feels things, more acutely than any human I’ve ever known. So, it’s possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode, and let it all out, and breathe deeply and move on.”

Okayokayokayokay. Jack wants to know how long that’ll take and Cas admits that he doesn’t know, and I’M FEELING about how this ageless, ancient being is just WAITING for Dean to do this very thing. He has all the time in the world from his perspective. He knows Dean --really knows him, and it doesn’t matter how long for him because time doesn’t really matter for Cas (I mean, I think being close to humanity and all it probably means more than it used to but...I’m just rambling about my feelings right now. This is Boris --Natasha is far more coherent and eloquent with her thoughts, lol.)

The brothers make it back to the bunker, planning on heading to Hell. Cas leads them to a room where Alt!Sam and Dean are stuck between the worlds. Dean doesn’t care at this moment --he wants to get the Occultum. They tell Cas their plan and he thinks they’re crazy. They could be searching forever down there. (UH, they’re LITERALLY BFFs with the Queen of Hell.)

Anyway, Dean and Sam head south while Cas babysits the spell.

Cas still doesn’t like this plan and hatches a plan with Jack so he can talk with Ruby in the Empty.

(I know, you just have to roll with Buckleming episodes, etc., but their insistence on making it beyond easy to jump from realm to realm is MADDENING.)

We get a mention of Cas’s deal with the Empty, so that really is still a thing. Cas is “far from happy”, so we’re good!

His plan is for Jack to “draw out most of [his] lifeforce” and store it in a flask. What’s his “lifeforce”? His grace? Something more? Something else? How does he die without his grace? How is he just mostly dead but still able to go to the Empty?

We’re also giving this exchange: “If I screw up?” “Well, then I’ll be lost forever.” WHOA. What kind of fucked up parenting are you writing, Buckleming? Good thing Jack doesn’t have a soul, because that’ll mess with a child forever.

Also, why can Jack use his powers now?

Sam and Dean are ambushed in Hell. Anael wanted them dead apparently and made a deal with some demons (ONCE AGAIN, like Rowena would allow this to happen!?!??) They’re Sam and Dean Winchester though and easily dispatch the demons.

Cas stalks through the Empty calling for Ruby. “Hello, Clarence,” a familiar voice says and Cas turns to find Meg reclining on a throne. He looks sweetly surprised to see her before his face falls as he realizes she’s the Shadow from the Empty.

The Shadow may be allied with Billie, but they’re definitely not good buds with Cas. Nevertheless, “Go get her, pizza man,” Shadow!Meg says and a ball of flame swirls towards Cas and turns into Ruby.

Cas asks about the Occultum, and Ruby asks after Sam. Cas refuses to answer and, since I’ve been stress re-reading some regency romances lately, I’m gonna go ahead and say he acts like an affronted chaperone.

For Gratuitous Cas Science:

We see another flashback of Ruby and Sister Jo’s wild adventures, only this time Jo is the one who invited Ruby to talk to her. Jo tries to tempt Ruby into hiding from the apocalypse in the Occultum. It turns out it’s a place AND a thing. A whatever, if you will. Ruby cut a deal with Jo, hid the object, and then died her noble death.

Ruby promises to help Cas as long as he can get her out of the Empty. You see, instead of lullabies and sweet dreams, or even quiet and no dreams, the Empty is nothing but endless reels of regrets playing over and over for every angel and demon trapped there. “Yeah, I know,” Cas says quietly and we all break a little bit thinking about how he swore it was nothingness instead of constant emotional torture. (That’s SO on brand.) Cas promises to try to free Ruby in exchange for her intel.

The Winchesters return to find Jack babysitting the spell alongside a MOSTLY DEAD Cas. Despite Jack’s (actually really terrible) explanation, Dean and Sam demand that Jack bring Cas back right away. Jack unscrews the flask.

Cas isn’t getting out of this so easily, though. The Shadow smirks and clenches Shadow!Meg’s fist, sending Cas to the ground in pain. The Shadow still is no fan of Cas, and is only willing to uphold deals with Billie, who promised to send the Shadow back to a lovely snooze if they cooperate.

The Shadow ruminates on the fact that Billie has never mentioned Cas as being essential to her plan. This makes Cas expendable.

Cas sputters to life suddenly, only to face Dean’s angry-worried greeting. “You’re an idiot, by the way!” Apparently still in pain or just suffering from almost-not-quite-dead-and-now-actually-quite-alive syndrome, Cas hauls himself up slowly and explains that he now has all the info they need to find the Occultum. “Am I still an idiot?” Listen, boys. Kiss and make up, mmkay?

They’re off to tackle the Occultum quest, but before they go they need to set out some decoys to throw Chuck off their scent if he tries to spy on the bunker. Dean suggests pulling AU Dean and Sam out of the void and setting them up as fake Sam and Dean. He flippantly suggests using Cas’s grace to power the rift this time and FOR THE LOVE OF PIZZA DEAN it’s called body autonomy.

Cut to the Winchesters Set One and Set Two seated at the map table with beers all around. We learn:

Alt Winchesters are also hunters

Their dad is alive (but still SUPER controlling)

They don’t drink beer or watch porn

Private planes fly them all over the world to fight monsters

Their AU could be a middling CW pilot about wealthy monster hunters called “Hunter Corp”

I have a greater appreciation of our flannel-clad boys

Dean and Sam clumsily explain their ploy and their relationship with God and it’s not weird at all!

Later, Team Free Will 2.0 heads to a small church. It’s guarded by a hellhound, which makes Dean SUPER happy and comfortable in his skin. They break into the church and look for clues about where the treasure is hiding. The clue is that the top of a cross points to the treasure. Moonlight streams conveniently through the window and at JUST the right angle to cast a cross of light on the floor. They pull out a little velvet bag from the floorboards.

Cas reads Enochian on the little golden snitch-style ball. “In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you.”

Back at the bunker, Alt!Dean and Sam enjoy their new rugged life. Sam watches kitten videos, and we continue to identify very strongly with him, indeed. Alt!Dean finds porn on Dean’s computer and I continue to ask WHY WHY we have to constantly cycle back to Busty Asian Beauties. Porn isn’t objectionable, but that SPECIFIC porn franchise should have died a swift death back in season two. (Boris: AMEN)

Jack swallows the Occultum, as one does. “Spit it out,” Dean demands. But Jack disappears into a flare of light. He wakes up in a garden.

No, he wakes up in THE Garden. He’s greeted by a young girl who tells him that humans are prohibited. A snake confronts Jack. “Who are you really? Who are you meant to be?” Jack flashes through his good and bad memories and suffers an epiphany.

He flutters back into the church like Tinkerbell in a ball of light before zapping back into reality. His reappearance burns away the two hellhounds.

Back at the bunker, Dean sends the Alt Winchesters off to Brazil to enjoy the beach. He’s a little uncomfortable around them until he learns that the Alt Winchesters drove Baby. Then they get shoved out of the bunker just as fast as you please.

Once they’re gone, Cas tells Sam and Dean that Jack has returned changed. He leads them to Jack who hunches over the kitchen table. Jack is crying. He apologizes for killing Mary. He has his soul back!

“Please forgive me,” Jack whispers, and a symphonic line carries us into the black.

Overall Surprisingly Enjoyable Quotes:

The healthcare system sucks so I pick up the slack

Cas, you know what’s good about being dead?

I’m far from happy, so I should be fine

We had a good thing until he killed me

You’re gonna have to lose the man bun

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn 15x13 #destiny's child #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #jack kline #anael #ruby #the shadow #meg masters #supernatural season 15

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winchester19-67 · 5 years ago

Text

Just Tell Me it Was Real

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, Bit of angst, Fluff

Word Count: 6,934

Square Filled: Time Travel (Fluff Bingo)

Square Filled: Castiel (Dean Bingo)

A/N: This was written or @spnfluffbingo2019, and @spndeanbingo.

Dean knows something isn't right. He was supposed to go just a few days into the past and correct a mistake he made. A mistake he immediately regretted. But this wasn't what he was expecting.

None of his surroundings are familiar. He's found himself standing outside of a beautiful two-storied home that looks much like the one he's so often imagined himself living in when he dreams about a perfect, apple pie life.

All Dean knows is that something went wrong. He has no clue where he's at, or even what time period he's in. And he certainly doesn't know who the little boy running down the concrete walkway towards him is.

"Daddy!" the little boy yells before jumping into Dean's arms.

Daddy? Dean thinks to himself as he settles the young one onto his hip. "Hey, buddy," Dean says with a smile, not wanting his confusion to shatter the little boy's enthusiasm.

"Guess what we did today!"

Dean decides to play along. "What did you do?" Dean can't help but to laugh at the wide-eyed innocence as the little boy tells him about the day's adventures with opened-arm gestures and a voice that squeaks with excitement every now and then. The boy stops to take a deep breath before continuing, but another voice cuts him off before he can go on.

"Let Daddy in the door before you start telling stories."

Dean completely freezes at the sound. He's heard that voice only one other time, and it sends his heart pounding in his chest.

"Aww," the little boy protests. "But, Momma..."

"Come inside and wash your hands for dinner. You can finish your story then."

The little boy perks up at the sound of permission to continue his tale. "Okay!" He starts wiggling around in Dean's arms, and Dean bends down to let the little boy go. As soon as Dean releases his hold, the little legs take off running just as fast as they can.

Dean watches as the little boy runs inside, but he keeps his eyes glued to the ground. He takes a few deep breaths before he finally gets the courage to look at your face.

"Are you just gonna stand there all day, or are you going to come in and act like you know us?" you ask him as you walk a little further out onto the porch.

"I... Um..." Dean swallows hard past the lump in his throat before trying again. "Sorry." He walks towards you with an almost nervous look on his face. Once he gets close enough, you wrap your arms around his neck and hide your face in his shoulder. Dean freezes again, and his eyes go wide. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening before he hesitantly returns the embrace.

"I missed you today," you breathe out.

"Um... Y-Yeah... I..." Dean pulls you back a bit and takes a deep breath. "Um, (Y-Y-Y/N), right?"

You give Dean a confused look and raise an eyebrow at him. "Dean, have you been drinking?"

"No. No," Dean says quickly as he shakes his head at you. "I just, uh... I'm just tired."

"Oh, are you sure that's all? Are you sure there's nothing bothering you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine." Dean gives you the most convincing smile he can manage right now, but inside he's panicking. What on earth is going on?

"Okay," you say softly. "Why don't you come on in and rest before we eat?"

Dean nods his head before crossing the porch. He doesn't dare go through the front door until you open it and enter the house first. Dean takes a quick glance around the yard before walking on in the house behind you.

Dean's immediately met with a squeal, and he turns his head to the left to see a little girl standing up in a play pen and reaching out for him. You head on into the kitchen, but Dean just stands there in the doorway looking at the light-headed toddler who desperately wants him to pick her up.

"Dada!"

Are you kidding me? Dean thinks as he walks over to the play pen. He bends over and picks up the little girl, holding her little body close to him. As soon as she looks up at Dean with green eyes that perfectly mirror his, he knows he's a goner.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean says softly as he brushes some hair out of the girl's face. This is wrong, Dean tells himself. I've gotta figure out how to get home. I need to figure out what went wrong. But it's like something is pulling him further and further into this reality. He doesn't know why, but this all just feels right, no matter how wrong he knows it is.

Dean's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear you calling for him.

"Dean. Dean." You repeat his name a few times before walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Dean." He jumps a bit before turning to face you. Something in his expression makes you feel uneasy. "Dinner's ready," you inform him. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," Dean replies as he nods his head. "Why do you ask?"

"You're looking at our daughter like you've never met her before," you tell him. Dean just looks at you as if he doesn't know what to say, and you take a deep breath. "Alright, why don't you take Luna on into the kitchen, and I'll go check on little man upstairs."

"Luna," Dean says as he quickly looks from your daughter resting in his arms to you. "That's a... pretty name."

"Well, I would hope you think so," you laugh. "You are the one who picked it out."

"Yeah. Yeah. Right," Dean says quickly. "I, um... Yeah, I knew that."

You open your mouth to say something, but decide against it for now. Instead, you head on upstairs, leaving Dean standing in the living room with Luna in his arms.

"Okay," Dean breathes out. "Calm down. This is just another day for you." He looks down at your little girl and smiles a bit. "Alright. You ready to eat?"

"Mmm," Luna replies as her eyes widen, causing Dean to laugh a bit. He carries her into the kitchen and walks over to the high chair. "No!" the toddler protests as she wraps her arms around Dean's neck. "Dada."

"Okay. Okay. I gotcha," Dean says softly as he sits down at the table with Luna in his lap. When the little boy comes running into the kitchen and climbs up into the chair beside of Dean, one thing runs through Dean's mind. What have I gotten myself into? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well," you say softly as you enter the nursery. "Hunter is out." Dean has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the ironic name. "You did great with them today."

Dean can't help but to smile when he thinks about the squeals and laughter it took to get the two ready for bed. "I had lots of practice," he replies, remembering the similiar routine he always went through with Sam when they were younger. Dean looks down at the little girl in his arms and takes a deep breath. He knows he needs to figure out what's going on, but maybe a few more minutes won't hurt.

"You know, the kids might not be able to notice anything, but you're not fooling me," you tell him. "There's something bothering you."

Dean just shakes his head at you. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," you sigh, knowing all too well that he's not going to talk. "I'm going to head on to bed. You coming?"

"Later," Dean says. "You go on."

You look at Luna and shake your head. "You do know she's asleep."

"Yeah, I know." Dean finally looks up at you and smiles a bit. "I just can't put her down yet."

"No wonder she's such a Daddy's girl," you tease. "Alright. Try not to stay up too late. I promised Hunter we'd take them somewhere tomorrow if a hunt doesn't come up."

"You know about hunting?" Dean asks you with wide eyes.

"Yeah," you reply slowly as you raise an eyebrow at him. "Dean, did you fall and hit your head?"

"No," Dean says quickly as he shakes his head. "I just... Never mind."

"Dean, I think you need to come on to bed."

"Yeah," Dean answers as he nods his head. "Just, uh, give me a minute, okay?"

"Alright," you say before leaning up to kiss his cheek. Dean swallows hard as he watches you leave the room.

Once Dean makes sure that you've gone to bed, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Dean quickly dials Sam's number, only to have the voice on the other end tell him that the number is no longer in service.

"Why did I think that was going to work?" Dean mutters under his breath. He takes a deep breath and starts thinking about what his next move should be. He decides that there's only one thing left to try, so he heads downstairs and walks out onto the back patio. He closes the sliding door, looking around to make sure he's alone before taking a deep breath.

"Cas," Dean loudly whispers into the night air. "Come on, man. This isn't funny. I don't know what you did wrong, but you gotta take me back. I'm not in the mood for whatever game this is." Dean waits a minute, but he doesn't get an answer. "Cas, come on!"

Dean pleads for a few minutes before he finally decides to give it up. He heads back inside to find you coming down the stairs.

"I was about to come check on you," you tell him.

"I'm fine," Dean says while trying to give you a convincing smile. "I was just getting some fresh air."

"Come on," you say as you walk over and take Dean's hand in yours. "Let's go to bed."

Dean's heart pounds in his chest at the feeling of your palm against his. Once you enter your bedroom, you go sit down on the bed, but Dean just stands there in the doorway. You sigh and walk back over to Dean, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You look stressed," you tell him.

"A little," Dean replies. "Really, (Y/N), don't worry about me."

"I can't help it," you say. "I love you."

Dean tries to remember that he doesn't belong here. That he's not who you think he is. But he can't remember anything once your lips are pressed to his. It feels so right to have you in his arms, that he forgets just how messed up it all is.

Dean sighs against your mouth as his arms wrap around your waist. He pulls you closer to him, and he moves his lips down to your neck. Dean wraps his hands under your legs and carries you over to the bed, laying you down on your back. He quickly pulls his shirt over his head before attaching his lips back to yours.

You run your hands over across his shoulders and down his chest. Dean pulls back to look at you, suddenly being snapped back into reality.

"What's wrong?" you ask Dean as you lightly trace the tattoo on his chest with your finger.

"Sorry," Dean says as he rolls off you and over to the other side of the bed.

"What are you sorry for?" you ask as your heart starts pounding. "Dean, did I do something wrong?"

"No," Dean says quickly as he shakes his head. "No, sweetheart, I just... I'm just ready to go to sleep."

"Oh," you say as your eyes fill up with tears. "Okay." you roll over onto your side facing away from Dean, knowing you've done something wrong.

Dean's heart breaks when he sees the look on your face right before you turn away from him. He takes a deep breath before throwing his arm over you and pulling you close to him.

"(Y/N), I didn't mean to upset you."

You shake your head, bringing a hand up to quickly dry your eyes. "It's just that you've been acting weird and distant all day, and you won't tell me what's going on."

Dean doesn't say anything.

You roll back over so you can face Dean, and he tenses up when he realizes just how close your face is to his.

"Listen, if you're mad at me for some reason..."

"No, no, no, sweetheart," Dean says quickly. "It's nothing like that." He feels bad that he's made you worry, but he doesn't even know what's going on himself, much less be able to explain it to you.

"Just don't worry about it, and try to go to sleep, okay?" Dean says softly.

"Okay," you reply as you nod your head.

Before Dean relizes what's happening, he presses his lips to yours. It's like his body is set on auto-pilot. You scoot closer to Dean, and lay your head onto his chest. That's when he realizes what just happened.

You can't get in too deep, Dean reminds himself. He takes a quick look at your face and shakes his head. Too late. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean's eyes fly open when he hears a quiet cry. He doesn't need time to figure out where he's at in the unfamiliar setting. It's like his mind automatically knows.

Dean immediately goes into protective mode, checking to make sure you're okay before getting ready to go check on the kids. He doesn't even make it off the bed before your bedroom door is slowly opening.

"Daddy?"

Dean realxes when he sees the silhouette of your son walk into the room. "C'mere, buddy," Dean says as he holds out his left arm.

Hunter runs over to the bed and lays his head on the mattress, looking up at Dean with watery eyes.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks as he runs his hand over the little boy's back.

"I had a bad dream."

"Alright," Dean says as he stands up off the bed, not wanting to wake you up. Dean starts to walk out of the room when he notices that Hunter isn't following him. "Come on."

Instead of walking over to Dean, Hunter holds up his arms to be picked up. Dean chuckles before lifting the boy up, smiling when Hunter wraps his arms around his neck and lays his head onto his shoulder.

Dean carries Hunter out of the room and down the hall, only stopping to check in on the baby before walking on down the stairs to the living room. He lays down on the couch, letting Hunter curl up beside of him.

"You're okay, now," Dean says softly. "I gotcha." His heart aches because he knows this isn't his life, and it never will be. The longer he lays there with your son in his arms, the more reality sets in.

Dean looks down at Hunter to make sure the kid's asleep before he carefully gets up from the couch. He walks into the kitchen and over to the counter, resting his elbows on the smooth surface and putting his face in his hands.

Dean jumps and quickly turns around when the light suddenly turns on. He relaxes when he sees it's just you.

"You're not okay," you say without a hint of question in your voice.

"(Y/N)..."

"Don't try to lie and tell me differently," you tell Dean. "Level with me."

Dean takes a deep breath. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"Dean," you say softly as you walk over to him. "I'm just trying to help you. Baby, you've fought so hard for the life we have here. I just can't stand it when you act like you're not enjoying it."

"That's just it," Dean says as he throws his arms up in the air. "I can't enjoy it because this isn't my life."

Your eyes widen as you step back a bit. "Dean, what is going on with you?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Did that witch on your last hunt do something to you?"

Dean almost says no, but then he gets an idea and decides to play along. "Witch?"

"Yeah," you reply.

Dean shakes his head. "The last thing I hunted was a werewolf," Dean replies, trying to stay as close to the truth as possible.

"What do you..." You stop and swallow hard. "What do you remember last?"

"I was standing in the bunker with Sam and Cas." Dean decides to leave it there, still not sure how well you'll take the whole truth.

"Do you remember anything about me? About us?"

Dean shakes his head. "The only thing I remember about you is saving you from the werewolf. We dropped you off at the nearest hospital, and that's it."

"Oh, no," you breathe out as you bring a hand up to your mouth. Your eyes fill with tears when you realize that Dean doesn't remember a second of your lives together. Dean's heart breaks seeing your reaction and knowing that he's lying to you, but he also knows that he very well can't tell you the truth. "Dean, what do we..."

"Don't worry," he tells you. "I'm sure it'll wear off in a couple days."

"And if it doesn't?"

"We'll deal with it," Dean tells you. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

"No, don't apologize," you tell him. "It's not your fault."

Yeah, it kind of is, Dean thinks.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you promise me something until we get this figured out?"

"Don't worry," Dean says, already sure of what you're about to ask of him. "I'll try to act as normal as possible around the kids."

"Thank you," you breathe out. You see the look on Dean's face, and you know he's blaming himself. "Babe," you say softly as you walk over to place a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about this, okay? We'll figure it out, and everything will go back to normal."

Dean nods his head, but he can't help it when his heart clenches at the thought. Because he knows that when everything goes back to "normal," he won't have this anymore. ~~~~~~~~~

You hear laughter echo through the house as you carry Luna down the stairs. You walk into the kitchen, and smile when you see Dean standing in front of the stove, with Hunter standing on his step stool.

"What are you two doing?" you ask as you carry Luna over to her high chair.

"We're making pancakes, Momma," Hunter informs you before turning back to watching Dean. "NO!" Hunter suddenly squeals, causing both you and Dean to jump and look at him with wide eyes. "Daddy, you're doing it wrong!"

"What did I do?" Dean asks before looking back at you with wide eyes. You laugh as you walk over to the pantry, pulling out a bag of chocolate chips.

"Ah," Dean says as he takes the bag from you before looking back down at Hunter. "Better?"

"Yeah," Hunter replies. "Put lots and lots in mine."

"Okay," Dean chuckles.

Everything doesn't go as smoothly as Dean had hoped. He tries not to alert the kids, especially Hunter, that something isn't right. But the second he starts feeling like he belongs here, he quickly reminds himself that it's not real. When you find him sitting across the table from you at breakfast, looking at the three of you like you're going to disappear from his life, you become even more worried about him than you already were.

"Dean," you say softly, catching his attention. "We're right here." He nods his head, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. But the comfort you're trying to provide is in vain, because Dean knows the truth. He's not lost his memory. This isn't some life that he just simply can't recall.

It's not his life to begin with.

After breakfast, you get the kids settled in the living room before walking back to the kitchen to clean up.

"You don't have to do that," you tell Dean when you catch him washing the dishes. You walk over to him and place your hands over his, stopping his actions. "Go," you tell him. "Go play with our babies, Dean. Maybe that will help you remember something."

"There's nothing there to remember," Dean says before really thinking about it.

"Dean what are you talking about?"

"Nevermind," he replies as he shakes his head.

"Hey," you say quietly, looking him in the eyes as you speak. "I don't know what it's like knowing that we have a life together, and not being able to remember it, but I promise you that you will, okay? Dean, we'll figure something out. We always do. I'll call Sam and..."

"No," Dean says quickly as he shakes his head. "I don't want him to worry about me, okay?"

"Alright," you nod. "Why don't you go help Hunter change into some actual clothes? I told him we might take them to the park for a while."

"What about..."

"I'll finish cleaning up here," you tell him. Dean nods before pressing a kiss to your forehead and walking off. He has to take a deep breath, willing the tears to stay put. He doesn't know what's worse. Being stuck in this dream world and forced to live a life that he knows will never be his, or lying to you about everything. He decides it's the latter, wandering why you and those two innocent kids have to be thrown into this whole mess.

I just wanted to fix a mistake, not create this lie, Dean thinks as he walks into the living room. But when Dean sees Hunter laying on the ground and playing with his sister, he's thrown back into that feeling of belonging. Like this is actually his life. Like he actually deserves this.

"Hey, bub," Dean says as he holds his hand out towards Hunter. "Let's go get you changed out of those pyjamas." Dean watches as the little boy jumps up from the floor, his eyes lit up with excitement.

"Are we going to the park?"

"Mom said we were," Dean smiles. "Come on." Luna squeals out when they begin to walk off, and Dean looks down to see her making her way over on wobbly, toddler legs. "Yeah, you too, jealous," Dean teases as he picks her up.

What was supposed to be a trip to the park ended up turning into an all day adventure for your little family. It's almost dark by the time the four of you get home, and Dean walks through the door with a kid in each arm.

"You need me to take one?" you offer, but Dean shakes his head.

"I got it," Dean replies. "I'm gonna go put them to bed."

"Okay," you say softly. "Hey, Dean? Thank you for today," you tell him. "You did great with them considering the circumstances. I mean, you're always great with them, but I know that not being able to remember anything makes it tough."

Dean shrugs his shoulders. "It's not that hard," he replies. "It seems like I've known them all their lives."

"Because you have," you remind him. Dean nods, another pang of sadness surging through him when the lie he's living comes back to smack him in the face. The truth that you don't know is he hasn't known them all their lives. Just for the past twenty-four hours.

"I'm gonna go put them to bed," Dean says. "Little man is starting to feel not so little."

You laugh and nod your head, watching as Dean climbs the stairs, being careful not to wake the kids. Dean decides to put Hunter to bed first, but as he gently lays him down and moves his arm out from underneath his limp body, Hunter wakes up and wraps his little arms around Dean's neck.

"I love you, Daddy."

Dean swallows hard as he presses a hand to Hunter's back, holding him close for a few seconds. "I love you too, buddy." Luna lets out a small whine as her little eyes open. "You too, pumpkin," Dean whispers before pressing a kiss to the top of both of their heads. Hunter eventually lets go of Dean and lays back down. Dean makes sure Hunter's bedroom door is cracked before carrying Luna to her room and laying her down in her crib.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Dean says softly as he watches her drift back off. He tip toes out of her room and walks back down the steps, expecting to see you in the living room, but thankfully finding it empty. Dean drops his tired body down onto the couch, trying for the hundredth time today to not let the tears fall.

"Dean?" He looks over to see you coming down the stairs. Dean swallows hard when he sees that you've changed into a nightgown that leaves little to the imagination. You walk over to him, frowning when you see the look on his face. "Sorry," you say quickly. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No," Dean replies as he shakes his head, but he's always been a bad liar.

"I wasn't thinking," you begin. "I just got ready for bed like I normally do and I wasn't thinking... I'll go change."

"Wait," Dean says as he gently tugs on your arm, pulling you over onto his lap. You're now facing him, straddling his lap, knees digging into the couch. Not exactly what Dean intended to do. He was just trying to stop you from heading back upstairs. But it's like something took him over, and he just couldn't stop himself.

You look down at Dean and smile a bit. He smiles back up at you before placing a hand on the back of your head, pulling your lips down towards his. Your hands fumble with the buttons on Dean's shirt as his lips move against yours. You grind your hips against Dean's, and he groans as he bucks his hips up off the couch. Once you make quick work of his shirt buttons, your hands move down to his belt. Dean's hands quickly grab yours, stopping your actions. You pull back, both of you panting for breath, and Dean gives you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry," Dean rasps. "I got a little carried away."

"Don't be sorry," you tell him. "Dean, I understand if you don't want to, but maybe this will help."

He shakes his head. "It won't, (Y/N)."

"And how do you know?"

"Because I know, sweetheart," Dean tells you. "I know it won't work."

"No you don't," you argue. "Dean, I'm not trying to pressure you into anything that you don't want to do, but you have to try something to get your memories back."

"(Y/N), it's not going to work because there's nothing there for me to remember."

"What does that mean, Dean?"

"Look, just forget it, okay?"'

"No," you tell him. "Dean, you said that this morning too. What do you mean that there's nothing there for you to remember? There's our whole life together for you to remember."

"For you, maybe," Dean tells you. "But not for me, (Y/N), because this isn't my life. I never lived it to begin with."

"Dean, you're just saying that because you don't remember."

Dean sighs. "Sweetheart, I've been lying to you."

"About what?" you ask softly, not for sure what to make of all of this.

"There was no witch, (Y/N). Not for me anyways," Dean begins. "I remember exactly what happened."

"What did happen?"

"You might not believe me."

"I might if you explain yourself a bit better."

"Fine," Dean sighs. "This isn't my life, (Y/N)." Dean continues despite the look on your face. "I don't live here. I'm not married to you. We don't have kids."

"Dean, you're just saying that because you don't remember. We've been married for almost eight years."

"No," Dean says as he shakes his head. "Listen, sweetheart, you might be married to me, but you're not married to me."

You can't help but to laugh a bit. "Dean, you've completely lost me," you tell him.

Dean lets out a deep breath. "I told you you wouldn't believe me."

"Because it's nonsense."

Dean thinks about what to say before finally looking you straight in the eyes. "You want the truth?"

"Please," you reply as you nod your head.

"Okay," Dean sighs. "The truth is, one second I was in the bunker with Sam and Cas. I had made a big mistake, so I asked Cas to send me into the past about three days to fix it. The next thing I know, I'm here."

You open your mouth to respond, but stop when you see the look on Dean's face. "Oh gosh," you breathe out as you scramble off his lap. "You're not kidding."

"Unfortunately," Dean says as he shakes his head. "(Y/N), I know this sounds crazy, but I've only met you once. When I saved you from the werewolf. Me and Sam were working a case when we found you and..."

"You rescued me, and then dropped me off at the nearest hospital," you say quietly. "You've always told me that you wished you hadn't left me there, and you tried to go back in time to fix it, but I thought you were just always joking."

"I don't know what happened," Dean says. "I don't know what world or universe or whatever I landed in, but all I know is that something went wrong somewhere and... Wait a minute," Dean says as he looks up at you with wide eyes. "You're actually believing me?"

You laugh a bit as you sit down beside of him on the couch. "I have to admit," you begin, "out of all the weird stuff that's happened since I've known you, this is by far the most crazy. But, I've never had a reason not to trust you. You're usually right."

"Usually?"

"Well, I don't want to say that you're always right. It might feed your ego."

Dean shakes his head and laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "So you're just okay with this?"

"No," you reply. "I'm panicking on the inside."

"Yeah. I know the feeling," Dean mutters. He looks down at his lap for a moment before his eyes widen and his head snaps back up to look at you. "Wait a second!" Dean says with a hint of excitement in his voice. "You said that I told you I tried to go back in time?"

"Yeah," you reply. "You've always told me that after you left me at the hospital, you tried to go back in time to change things, but it didn't quiet work out. You never really explained what that meant, and I always thought you were just joking anyways."

You watch as a hint of a smile spreads across Dean's face. "So that means that if everything happened exactly like it happened to me, then this... This is my future."

He swallows hard and looks down at the floor, trying to think of where to go from here. It's quiet for a while until Dean lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head.

"I'm an idiot," he says. "This can't be my future. It's gotta be some trick played on me to show me what I'll never have no matter how hard I try. It's gotta be some alternate universe or something. This can't... I..."

To anybody else, it would look like Dean was panicking, which he probably is a little bit. But you know that the look on his face isn't purely fear. It's the look he gets when he desperately wants something to be true. When he's almost reached a goal that he's been aiming at for a long time, and he's terrified that it's going to all be taken away from him.

"Hey," you say softly as you reach over to lay a hand on his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure this is the reaction you were expecting from me," you tease.

"Sorry, but it's just too good to be true," Dean replies. "I mean, if you know about hunting, then you know everything, right?"

"If you're talking about what all you and Sam have been through, then yes, I know."

"Then you know that things don't just work out for us," Dean says. There's no way this is my future, Dean tells himself as he lets all the hope drain out of him. Especially not after the stupid move I made a few days ago. "This... It can't be real."

You can tell he doesn't believe his own words. He doesn't want to believe them. This is the life Dean has always wanted, always dreamed of, but that's exactly why he'll never have it. People like him don't get a happily ever after, or anything even close to it.

Dean looks at you and swallows hard, a look of realization settling across his features. "But it is real," Dean breathes out. "I mean, it has to be because what you said is exactly what happened. This is..." He looks around the room as if he can't fathom what's happening. You let out a quiet laugh.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really," Dean replies as a small smile settles across his face. "Here I've been thinking I was just zapped into some other dimension, when all along I've been living out my future. It's a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it," you reply. "Dean, I have to ask. You said that you wanted Cas to send you back in time because you made a mistake, but what did you do? Was your mistake leaving me at the hospital, or have you, the you I know anyways, always been joking about that?"

"No, I've not been joking," Dean replies. "That was my mistake. Biggest mistake I've ever made. I felt like I had left my whole world behind. Now I see why."

You laugh a bit at him. "Well, don't worry," you tell him. "If this does happen to be your future, we meet again about a week later at a gas station."

Dean's eyes light up. "Really?"

"Yeah," you reply.

"Huh," Dean smiles as he shakes his head. "I guess there wasn't much reason for me to time travel then, huh?"

"Apparently," you laugh. "I guess you don't happen to know where the you from this time is at, do you?" you ask him. "I mean, the you that I know."

"Technically," Dean begins, "if I am from the past, I'm the same Dean you know. Just a bit younger."

"You just made this a lot more confusing than it already was," you say, causing you both to start laughing.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Dean says. "But, no, I don't know where I'm at. Or, you know, the I that you know. I guess I'll... He'll? Return when Cas takes me back."

"Stop, now you're doing that on purpose," you smile as you playfully slap his arm. "Do you know when Cas will take you home?"

"Not really," Dean replies as he shakes his head.

"Okay," you breathe out.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

"It's alright," you reply as you shake your head.

"Can I ask you something?"

"As long as it's a simple question," you tease.

"Hunter doesn't know about..."

"No," you reply quickly as you shake your head. "He doesn't know. When you go away on a case, we tell him that you're hanging out with Uncle Sammy for the day."

"Good," Dean says as he nods his head. "Now, I'm assuming his name wasn't just a coincidence."

You start laughing again. "Ever since we got married, I've joked about how funny it would be to name our son Hunter. When he was born, it just kinda stuck."

Dean nods his head. "And Luna?"

"You said that you've never seen the moon shine as bright as it did the night she was born," you tell him.

Dean groans as he throws his head back against the couch. "Domestic life has turned me into a softie."

You laugh at him. "Dean?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Why didn't you just tell me all of this from the beginning?" you ask him. "I mean, I understand that you were afraid I wouldn't believe you, but why lie? Why go along with the whole 'cursed by a witch' thing?"

Dean sighs. "I'm sorry about that too, (Y/N), but I didn't want to drag you into this whole mess."

"I just wish you had told me sooner," you tell him. "I don't like it when you leave me out of things. We're supposed to be in this together, even if you are past you."

Dean smiles and nods his head. "Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah?"

"All seriousness aside, are you planning on wearing that to bed?"

Your cheeks heat up a bit when you remember the revealing nightgown that you're wearing. "Well, sort of, but I can change."

"Good," Dean says. "If you didn't, I'd have to sleep here because if I slept in the same bed as you with you wearing what you have on now, I might have to steal my own girl."

You giggle. "Behave, Winchester."

Dean smiles and shakes his head. "Never, sweetheart." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day proves to be harder than the previous for Dean. One moment he's sitting on the couch with Luna in his lap and watching cartoons with Hunter. The next, he's quickly passing the baby off to you so he can walk out of the room for a moment. After the third time it happens, you sit Luna down on her blanket before following Dean.

"Sorry," Dean says as he takes a seat at the bottom of the stairs. "It's just..."

"I know," you say softly as you sit down beside of him. "But just remember that you'll see me again in a few days."

Dean smiles and nods his head before looking back into the living room.

"What if I'm wrong?" he asks. "What if this isn't my future?"

"But what if it is?" you ask him.

"Well, just in case," Dean begins, "is there anything you should warn me about?"

You start laughing. "You want spoilers, huh?"

"Yeah," Dean answers as if it's the most obvious thing ever.

"Okay, lets see," you tell him. "When we meet again, at the gas station, I end up bloodying your nose."

"Now I know you're making things up," Dean laughs.

"I am not," you say truthfully. "I was alone filling my car up, you touched my shoulder, and it startled me. I was obviously still rattled from the werewolf attack, and I wasn't taking my chances."

"Great," Dean laughs. "I have that to look forward to."

"Trust me. That's just the beginning," you tell him.

"What else?"

You open your mouth to reply, but decide against it. "Dean, I could sit here and tell you stories about our amazing, beautiful life together all day long, but I think you'll get the best experience without knowing beforehand."

"Yeah," Dean chuckles. "Probably."

"Why don't you go play with our kids, Dean? You won't see them for a few years."

"That sounded weird," Dean laughs.

"You know what I mean," you reply. He stands up and the two of you begin to walk into the living room, but you stop him. "One more quick thing," you tell him. "Our relationship has had its ups and downs. More so before we got married than after. Now we make a pretty good team. But just... Promise me you won't give up."

"I'll never give up on you, sweetheart," Dean tells you.

"Good," you smile.

"Daddy!" Hunter calls from the couch. You both look over at him, and he frowns. "Hurry up."

"Sorry, buddy," Dean laughs as he walks over, picking Luna up before sitting back down beside of Hunter.

One second, Dean is sitting there surrounded by his little family, however temporary they may be at the moment. But the next, he's standing in the bunker. It takes Dean a moment to realize where he's at, but once he does, he immediately looks over at Cas.

"Dean, I..."

Dean puts a hand up to stop him. "Just tell me it was real."

Cas nods his head. "Very real."

"And (Y/N)?"

"She's alright. She doesn't remember anything. Neither do the children," Cas answers. "And she has you back too."

Dean nods his head once before beginning to walk off.

"Wait!" Sam calls out after him. "Dean, what happened? What did you see?"

"Don't worry about it, Sammy," Dean replies.

He tries not to think too much about it. Maybe he's still wrong, even though Cas confirmed it was real. Maybe it's just a possibility of what his future could be like. All of Dean's doubts are crushed the day he pulls up at a random gas station, and Sam nods his head towards somebody.

"Isn't that..."

"(Y/N)," Dean breathes out as he stares at you.

Sam laughs at his brother. "What are you smiling so wide for?"

"Because I'm gonna marry that girl, Sammy."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Dean replies. "Someday."

He takes off towards you, stopping when he gets halfway there before walking back over to Baby and pulling some napkins out of the glovebox.

"What are you doing?" Sam laughs.

"Trust me," Dean says as he holds the napkins up. "I'm gonna need these."

Tags: @polina-93 @adoptdontshoppets

#spnfluffbingo2019 #spndeanbingo #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #SPN #fanfic

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1000roughdrafts · 6 years ago

Text

One Drunk Night

A/N: so um I think this qualifies as a crack fic? I have had this burning desire to write a Sam X Reader for like a week now but couldn’t settle on anything, so I chose a random gif to use as the prompt and uh, well, here we are.

Rating: Mature / 18 + I’d say

Warnings: drinking, a lot of kissing/making out, tipsy Sam, eludes/insinuates to public Smut in the Impala, nude in front of Dean, neck biting/nibbling, PDA,

Word Count: almost 1700

After a long day of tracking down the family of the latest victim, you had suggested the four of you stop at a bar on your way back to the bunker to release tension from the most grueling hunt yet. Sam and Cas were reluctant, but Dean jumped at the idea, turning into the closest bar.

Dean had long since left with a short skirted blonde, and Cas had apparently been needed elsewhere, leaving you alone with Sam; it was both a dream come true and a nightmare. You never really knew how to handle yourself around someone you had feelings for, cracking random or awkward jokes in the silence or giggling for no reason.

It only took a few beers to get Sam to crack a smile, and when he did you melted on the inside as if his lips were oozing lava. You’d felt a nagging thought that you might have feelings for the man for a long time, but always turned it own taking your close friendship into consideration.

It wasn’t just that his smile got you quivering, it was that he was chuckling at a joke you made. Then it happened again, and you were sure your legs were turning into cooked and wobbly noodles.

“Okay, so I was standing there, with pasta sauce dripping from my hair because this idiot next to me decided it would be a good idea to, I don’t know, make a catapult with his plate and a spoon. I honestly don’t really know what was going through his head,” you said, pausing to laugh as the memory came back into your mind. “It was super embarrassing back then, because once it happened, the whole cafeteria went silent, and then suddenly as if there was a countdown, everyone started laughing at me.”

You covered your mouth as the laugh reverberated in back of your throat. The story was for Sam, you didn’t want to bring any attention to you that wasn’t him. He sat next to you, a hand on his knee as he leaned in listening attentively

“A couple weeks later my dad picked up on a hunt a few towns over and we moved schools,” you said, groaning in relief as you relive the memory. You pounded lightly on the table as if in celebration like you were then, “I was so happy to leave that place.”

“You know,” Sam said, clearing his throat as he chuckled. “I remember something similar happening to a girl at my high school,” he said.

Your eyes went wide, heart lumping in your throat. “Oh,” was all you could get out.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “What school was that at?”

“Uhm,” you said, swallowing the saliva you’d neglected in shock before taking the rest of your drink down. “North Ridge? In uh, Oklahoma.”

Sam raised his eyebrows, leaning into you more as he exclaimed, “no way? That’s where this happened at! It must’ve been you! We had to have gone to school together!” he said excitedly.

The beating of your heart was almost too much to keep up with. You reached across the counter for your new drink, nodding at the bartender in thanks. “Really? Wouldn’t we have recognized each other when we met if we did go to school together?”

Sam snorted at first before letting it fall into a full belly laugh, barely able to get the words out through his chuckles. “No, I’m just kidding, that never happened,” he said, taking a gulp from his beer when he collected himself.

You let out the breath you were holding and softly threw your fist onto his thigh with a tight smile, “that’s not cool!” you laughed, “you really had me, Sammy!”

After you get his name out, his darkened and drunk eyes fall onto yours. The music and chattering in the background seemed to fade away, as if it was you and Sam and no one else.

Your eyes wobbled back and forth on his, both of you keeping straight faces. Only then did it hit you that his hand had moved from his leg to yours.

“What do you say we head out?” he whispered. His eyes fall onto your lips for a moment before looking back onto the bridge of your nose in an attempt to break the spell your Y/E/C was casting on him. “Dean said he left the Impala in the lot,” he said, managing to speak softer than he had at first.

You stretched out, straightening your back and remaining silent for a moment. Squinting your eyes at him with a tilt of your head, you finished off as much of your drink before nodding.

He smiled again, and you knew you would need a minute to gain your balance with how intoxicating it was. He seemed to catch on, putting a hand around your shoulders and slowly sliding it around your torso to rest his hand on your hip as you stood together.

It was as if the atmosphere changed in an instant, from sharing funny stories from the past to a desperate, dripping lust to have each other.

You drew quick, choking breaths as his fingers massaged the tip of your hips while you made your way to the door. You barely made it out of the bar before your lips were in a sloppy union, hands racing along each other’s back almost hopelessly seeking to get closer and closer.

It was messy like a first kiss usually is, but it was enticing and electric to feel his tongue coast along the inside of your mouth. You couldn’t help the moans that came from you, and you didn’t seem to care about the whistling that came from passers. Until the moment came, you didn’t know just how badly you wanted this and the way he was kissing you, pulling you closer to him, made you feel like he wanted it to.

At that rate, you didn’t know if the two of you would be able to make it to the Impala. You were so engulfed in the moment, in him, that you completely forgot where you were.

Hesitantly you pulled away, smiling at his glossy and wet lips, “we should really go somewhere a little more private,” you whispered in a giggle.

He nodded, but didn’t say anything, only lowered his head to put his lips against your cheek slowly. Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back and to the side, granting him the access to your neck that he silently requested. It started off soft, sending chills down your spine as his lips pressed gently against the relaxed muscles in your neck.

It was as if he was waiting for you to be completely relaxed before turning the delicate pecks into nibbles. You drew in a sharp breath, a smile creeping onto your face as the nibbles grew more fierce. It wasn’t anything that could draw blood, but enough that you’d have a mark to explain by morning.

You swayed between feet, gripping tightly onto his jacket as he moved the kisses back up your jaw and onto your mouth. He only let up on the biting until his mouth was back on yours, causing your suggestion to find privacy to vacate your mind completely.

Putting his hands on your hips he pulled you more into him as he released his grip on your mouth. As you opened your eyes he wore a smile, and you would never be able to explain just how electrified it made you feel. Somehow, somewhere deep down, you knew this smile was just for you; it was your smile and that was exciting in itself.

He continued on his charade, saying no words and nodding instead towards the Impala, keeping his smile. Before either of you could get a door open he tugged on your side, twisting you around to face him. Kissing you just as deeply as he had before, he took no time getting his lips back on your neck. Nibbling on your ear for a moment you had a moment of clarity.

“Sam,” you croaked, mouth dry from the excitement.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, continuing his lustful trail along the side of your face and neck.

You placed your hands on his chest, eyes still closed. “You’re not, um,” you cleared your throat. “You’re sober enough for this, right?”

Too tangled in his desire for you, he didn’t answer right away, but when your words his his ears he pulled away. Keeping the smile on his face he brought his hand to your face, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Are you?”

Smiling in relief, you nodded and all of the metaphorical blocks that you didn’t realize were keeping you back came crashing down. You no longer cared how public your affection for each other was and slammed into him again, kissing him fervidly and rough.

He managed to open the door without pulling away from the kiss, but doing so to push you into the backseat. There were no lights in the parking lot, leaving the two of you in solidarity and assured you that you wouldn’t be bothered as you rushed to get as much clothing off as necessary.

—

“In my car?” Dean shouted, startling you awake. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but you were exhausted from spending a couple of hours moving in time with each other in such a small space. Quickly realizing that you never put your clothing back on either, you and Sam hurried to hide your nudity.

“Come on, man, really?” Dean exhaled.

You shared a blushing glance at Sam before the two of you broke out in laughter. Sam managed to get his pants on quicker than you, and offered Dean a smirk.

“You’ll get over it,” Sam laughed, looking over to wink at you. That was all you needed to let out the breath of anticipation you were holding. You needed to know that he remembered and was okay with what had happened, and with the way he was looking at you, you knew he was more than satisfied and truthfully, so were you.

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