#Dean: “Whatever weirdo. Come on Cas where is it?” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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By Your Doorstep (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader is looking for her teenage sister’s service dog one day, she runs into Dean Winchester who thankfully saw him run past. When she arrives, her sister is fine aside from a sprained ankle but Dean’s decided to follow along and help get her sister home...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, mention of car accident/death

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Please enjoy this first part! …

_________

“Toast! Toast!” you shouted as you ran down a street. “Toast boy!”

“Uh, you okay?” said a guy walking on the other side of the street. He was raising an eyebrow and you shook your head.

“Toast is a dog,” you said.

“Oh, gotcha. I thought you were nuts for a minute,” he chuckled.

“You haven’t seen a german shepard around have you?” you asked.

“I saw one run down the block a few minutes ago,” he said. You looked the direction he pointed and you started sprinting. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Can’t talk!” you shouted back. You ran down the block and across the street over to the park. You ran over to the basketball court and saw Toast there next to Tessa. She was sat up and holding onto his vest when you jogged over to her. “Tess. Are you okay? Did you have a seizure?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. She was holding her ankle and you saw the swelling. “I think I broke it playing. My phone’s over in my bag. I told Toast to get it but I guess he ran home and got you instead.”

“He barged in through the doggy door, I thought he was just nuts at first,” you said. You heard footsteps behind you and the man from the street was there panting.

“You found your dog,” he said as he caught his breath.

“Yeah,” you said, the man wincing when he saw Tessa’s ankle. “We’re all set.”

“She needs a doctor,” he said.

“Tessa, you okay here while I run home to get my car?” you asked.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she said. “Toast’ll stay.”

“I can carry her,” said the man. You both stared at him and he shrugged. “Save you a trip.”

“Are you some kind of weirdo?” you asked.

“Says the woman running through the neighborhood shouting Toast,” he smiled back.

“Alright. Tess if you’re cool with it…” you said, the man nodding.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean will carry you back to the house and I’ll drive you to urgent care,” you said. “If you do try anything though Dean, Toast will rip your face and junk off, just to be clear.”

“Got the message,” he said. Tessa climbed on his back and he was careful of her ankle while you grabbed her bag. You walked with Toast by Dean’s side back the few blocks towards home. “I think it’s just a sprain actually. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You play basketball?” you asked.

“No. I’m a doctor is all. First glance it doesn’t look too bad.”

“Are you single? Y/N’s single,” she said.

“You’re a little shit, Tessa,” you said. Dean chuckled and Toast bumped his leg. “He wants you to get on the sidewalk.”

“Will do,” he said, Toast giving some space once he’d stepped up off the road. “He’s very intelligent.”

“We’ve only had Toast two years but he’s been very good with us,” you said. “He’s Tessa’s. I just feed him and pick up his poop.”

“I have school, loser.”

“I have work, loser,” you said.

“You guys must be sisters,” he said. “I’m a big brother. I would know.”

“If your younger brother is single and half as good looking-”

“Keep it in your pants, Tess,” you said.

“I like you two,” he chuckled. “Sorry Tessa but he’s probably a little too old for you.”

“They always are,” she sighed.

“You’re seventeen. You’re fine,” you said. “Besides college has way more attractive guys and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, Elmdale community college. Known for it’s hotties,” she mumbled.

“Elmdale University has some good choices,” you said.

“I thought it was too expensive,” she said.

“Well I was gonna tell you this at dinner but I applied for a different job awhile ago. I heard back this morning. I accepted. It’s double what I was making before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. With your grades you can get a half-ride and I figure between inheritance and my new salary, you can do your four year out of the gate without loans,” you said.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said quietly. “Really.”

“You still need your part-time job if you want to get stuff for yourself though. I’m sorry. I can’t make it work if-”

“S’okay,” she said. “I can’t believe I can go to the university.”

“I called up the school earlier and talked to your guidance counselor. We gotta work on your application but we can make it work,” you said.

“Can I get a car? I know I can’t afford room and board but maybe I can get something used so you don’t have to drive me all the time?” she asked.

“Tessa…” you sighed. You knew you couldn’t afford insurance on two cars at the moment and everything else and she wouldn’t make enough part time to cover all the car expenses herself. “I-”

“I can pick up more shifts,” she said.

“Tessa, I want you to enjoy college. I sure did. I’ll give you rides whenever you want. I’ll drop you off in the morning and pick you up at night. That would work, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t even care about my ankle. I can get my art degree!” she said.

“Tessa.”

“I’m joking,” she laughed. “Art minor?”

“You can minor in whatever you like but please for my sanity major in something you can get a job in?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. You rounded a corner and started to walk up a driveway, Dean setting Tessa down in the passenger seat of your car. You opened the back and Toast jumped in, Dean smiling when you shut both the doors.

“Thanks,” you said. “For helping us out.”

“Sounds like you two know how to solve problems on your own,” he said. “Happy to help. Here.”

He dug in his back pocket and pulled out a card.

“If you ever need a doctor, I’m two blocks over,” he said. “Or just to talk.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, Dean.”

It was around nine when you were sitting on the front porch with a glass of whiskey in your hand. You drank slowly, eyes catching a man in a baseball cap and reflective shirt jogging by.

“Do you always run at night?” you called, Dean stopping at your front walkway. “Cause I never see you run at night and I sit out here a lot.”

“Whew well let’s stop that charade cause running is so not my thing,” he said. He breathed hard for a moment as he walked up the steps. You nodded to the other chair and poured him a glass, Dean drinking it down. “Your sister okay?”

“Yeah. Just a sprain,” you said. “Still gotta pay the deductible for the x-ray though.”

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” you asked.

“Thirty one,” he said.

“Twenty eight.”

“Where are your folks?” he asked.

“They and Tessa were in an accident two years ago. It’s just us two now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m slowly getting used to be a guardian,” you said.

“I raised my little brother. My parents are still around but they fought a lot. I get becoming the parent when you’re not ready.”

“Do you ever get to just be a sibling again?” you asked.

“Yes. But they have to grow up first and you got a few more years ahead of you before it happens,” he said.

“I figured.”

“What does she have? Toast is a service dog I saw.”

“She gets seizures sometimes. It’s from the accident. She hasn’t had one in seven months. Fingers crossed we got her on the right mix of meds finally,” you said.

“So who takes care of you?”

“My buddy Jack Daniels. Sometimes I hang out Jim Bean too.”

“I’m partial to Johnny Walker,” smiled Dean.

“Very nice. I don’t drink much. Too tired most of the time,” you said.

“So nobody takes care of you then.”

“Who takes care of you?”

“Good point,” he said. “But I didn’t have it this rough.”

“We’re getting by. We always do.”

“I have no doubt that you can,” he said. “Take care of yourself every once in a while is all.”

“When she’s done with school I will.”

“She’s got five years left. You won’t last that long,” he said.

“Watch me.”

“Who worked on your sister at the urgent care tonight?”

“Dr. Novak. Why?”

“Cas is a good friend. I’ll see about getting that x-ray test off the bill,” he said as he stood up.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, heading down the steps. “You want me to leave you alone from now on?”

“...No.”

“You want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at noon? I’m buying. Nothing too fancy,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He smiled and nodded, spinning around and sliding right off the last two steps to his bottom. You rushed down them and he groaned, shaking his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he said, grunting as he stood. “Oh my ass hurts.”

“That’s what she said,” you said, Dean laughing.

“I definitely like you,” he said as you helped him take a few steps. “I’m alright. I’ll swing by tomorrow then.”

“Bye Dean,” you said.

“Bye Dean!” called Tessa from her bedroom window upstairs.

“Oh my God, go to bed!” you shouted back.

“It’s nine and I’m not twelve,” she said.

“Goodnight ladies,” chuckled Dean, waving as he headed back down the path. You gathered up the bottle and glasses, bringing them inside and locking up for the night. A few minutes later you were upstairs in Tessa’s room, frowning as she giggled while looking through her phone.

“Oh come on,” she said as she rolled her eyes at you. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor, he’s single and he’s a dork that just fell on his butt in front of you cause he’s so nervous and trying to play it cool. Like what is wrong with him?”

“Nothing. We have a date tomorrow,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“We used to talk about guys,” she said.

“I know,” you said. You picked at the wood, Tessa putting her phone down.

“Y/N. You’re not my mom. I know you gotta act like her sometimes but you’re not. Mom and dad would want you to go on dates and stuff. I haven’t seen you do anything fun in years.”

“I barely knew how to be an adult for just me,” you said. “You’re my priority now.”

“I’m not in a hospital bed anymore. My seizures are under control and I got Toast to watch out for me just in case. Dean had a point. You gotta take care of yourself,” she said. “Including me going to community college.”

“Tessa-”

“It’s both our inheritance and you can’t spend all of it on me. I can do two years at community and transfer to the university after.”

“Tess. You don’t have to do that. I did the math and it’ll work out.”

“When’s the last time you bought something for yourself? Seriously when?”

“I bought a new bedspread two weeks ago.”

“You needed one. That doesn’t count. When-”

“Before mom and dad died, Tess. Is that what you want me to say? They made good money but you had medical bills. Do I want a new winter coat? Sure. Do I want to splurge and by myself a nice pair of leggings? Of course. I want things. But I want us to stay in this house. I don’t want us to get shoved in a tiny apartment. I want you to be able to go to college like I did and not worry about this crap. I’m the grown up, not you. I choose how to spend the money.”

“Fine,” she said. She grabbed the crutch by her bed and got up, going to her dresser. She opened her jewelry box and grabbed a wad of cash, holding it out to you. “It’s three hundred. I want you to have it.”

“Tessa, no.”

“I earned it. I get to choose how to spend it,” she said. “You’ve always told me that. Buy a coat and leggings and whatever else you want.”

“Tessa. It’s yours. You were saving up to buy an iphone.”

“I don’t need a fucking phone. I need my sister to stop looking like she cries herself to sleep every night. Just take it,” she said. You shook your head and she shoved the money in your hand. “Y/N, take it.”

“Alright,” you said.

“Good.” She waited a beat before pulling you into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said. “You got plans tomorrow night?”

“I was gonna sleepover Hailey’s house if that’s okay?” she said.

“Yeah. You guys have fun,” you said. “Just be careful on your ankle.”

“Duh,” she said. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I’m kinda beat. Sunday for sure?” you said.

“Okay. Night,” she said.

“Night, Tess,” you said. You went next door to your room, opening your desk drawer and opening the envelope inside. You counted the money she’d given you and added it to the front. You definitely had enough for her phone now and her birthday was only a few weeks away. You smiled and put it away, writing out a few bills before you gathered up your pajamas and walked down the hall to the bathroom. You kept going though, down to the shut door. You pushed it open, the room cold and dark. You flipped on a light, a coating of dust on everything again.

“Y/N?” said Tessa from the other end of the hall. You turned off the light and shut the door, Tessa by the bathroom when you walked back. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna shower quick before bed. Shout if you need something.”

“Yeah. Night.”

Dean POV

“Hey, Sammy,” said Dean after he’d gotten out of the shower and was laying in bed.

“Hey, Dean. What’s up?” asked Sam on the other end of the phone.

“I think I just went full on weirdo on this girl I met today.”

“Well that’s obvious but what’d you do? You didn’t like stalk her or anything.”

“She lives in the neighborhood. I kinda went jogging past her house tonight and she was sat on the front porch.”

“Okay that’s kinda creepy,” said Sam. Dean ran his hand over his face and sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I gave off creeper vibes but she might have just been polite. I don’t know. We’re going out tomorrow,” said Dean. He was quiet as he shut his eyes. “Which sucks cause I really like her too. I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird.”

“Maybe she’ll have pity on you and let it slide. Where’d you meet her? I thought you swore off women after your last hookup went bad,” he said. Dean didn’t speak and ran his hand over his face again. “De I know something happened that night.”

“Sammy I got tired of hooking up. I’m too old for it. I just want a girl to go home to at the end of the day and laugh with. That’s all there is to it,” said Dean.

“Dean I was still living with you at the time. You were off for days. I know-”

“If you’re gonna bring this shit up again-”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to hear you excited about a girl again...and you can tell me anything. Anything, Dean. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re twenty seven. You’re a kid,” said Dean. He rolled over on the bed and lay on his stomach, putting his hands under his chin. “Some things I just don’t tell you about, Sam.”

“Dean, I asked you to stop raising me awhile ago. You’re not my father anymore.”

“I still gotta protect you from stuff,” said Dean with a shrug.

“I get that. But my mind has gone to the worst case scenario on this more than once. Just promise it wasn’t that,” said Sam.

“Sammy, I called to talk about a girl.”

“You want things to work out with her? Then figure out whatever the hell happened in the past so it doesn’t happen again.”

“You don’t understand,” said Dean.

“Whatever. Just crack a joke next time you see her,” said Sam. He hung up and Dean looked at his phone, sighing before he jammed his face in the bed. He gripped the sheets tight and felt his heart rate pick up, bile rising up in the back of his throat.

“Stop. It,” he said to himself, forcing himself to sit up. He wiped off his eye and dropped his head to his chest. “It’s just a fucking girl. It’s just a girl, it’s just a date. It’s all it is.”

He saw his phone light up and Sam’s name appear. He swiped and put it on speaker before he faced away from it.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam.

“It’s okay,” said Dean, freezing when he sniffled. He stared at the phone and Sam cleared his throat.

“You alright?” Dean stared at the phone and shook his head. “De, you there?”

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Yes…” said Sam. “It’s just me.”

“You repeat a word of this to anybody or you laugh or you tease me or-”

“Hey. I’d rather we not have this conversation over the phone. I can be there in an hour.”

“...Fine but you better bring some pie with you.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, Dean.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean x #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #doctor!dean x reader

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 3 years

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19 Oct. Suptober: Eighty-sixed

As Cas crept closer to the large framed sketch on the wall opposite the stove, Dean stood backed against the counter and wrung his hands. "I should explain the artwork, huh."

"Where," Cas said, his voice suddenly raw as steel wool. "Where did you find it?"

modern au; deancas

The way the porch floorboards were squeaking announced to Cas that his neighbor was at the door well before Dean actually knocked.

...Though Dean didn't knock, and didn't knock.

It was odd enough that he might knock. He had a key, the same way Cas had one for Dean's cabin next door. Keys were usually moot anyway. They were the only two people living on this end of an indifferently developed street bordered by and dotted with copses of trees that had been allowed to stretch and grow as much as they wanted. Plus, it was the rare evening that Cas wasn't already at Dean's cabin, but the faculty meeting had run later than expected.

Cas peeked out the front window.

Dean was bouncing on the balls of his feet and rubbing his hands together. The wind must have turned chilly if his cheeks were chapped a bit pink. He kept reaching for the doorknob but also pulling back his hand. He was muttering something and shaking his head, a stern expression on his face.

Cas opened the door slowly, so as not to spook him.

Dean flinched, recovered, and waved.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said. He held the door open. "Would you like to come in?"

The temperature on the porch was not as cold as he'd been expecting. The evening would be cooler soon with the sun setting in less than an hour.

"Ah, no," Dean said. He tried to smile. "Hey, Cas."

The second time, the smile, though small, reached his eyes.

Cas smiled back. It was exceptionally easy to smile at Dean, a fact that sometimes took Cas by surprise. He'd never had a best friend before; actually, he doubted Dean had either, save his brother, Sam, who Castiel had met many times and liked a great deal. Sam had a law career that seemed frustrating and stressful and a hair maintenance routine that just seemed stressful.

Dean had a job that he enjoyed as a mechanic and a hobby as a garbage picker -- "an independent second-hand collectibles reclamation expert in the freecycling community" -- that, as far as Cas could tell, almost exclusively consisted of Dean pinching what Cas had eighty-sixed to his own curb, i.e. a steady supply of random things the previous cottage owner had hoarded and a few things Cas should never have packed up and brought with him in the first place.

This included but was not limited to a square kitchen table, Depression era dishes, linens, paperbacks, an old travel trunk filled with used notebooks and junk mail, a lamp made from an empty whiskey bottle, a wooden ironing board, and three flannel shirts, one of which Dean was wearing at the moment. The dark red plaid made his eyes seem greener than usual.

Complementary colors, Cas thought, and ordered himself to stop thinking about Dean's eyes. Best friend, emphasis on friend.

He'd long ago resigned himself to being in love with his best friend in secret. Didn't mean he had to be a weirdo about it.

He should say something. "How are you today?"

"AreYouDoingAnythingForDinnerTonight?" Dean said, or rather launched at him, without any spaces between the words.

Cas took a chance that his honest answer was going to help solve the mystery of whatever was up with Dean. "I was going to eat a peanut butter sandwich."

Dean visibly took a deep breath and let it out like he was counting to twenty in his head. "Would you like some homemade vegetable soup instead?" he asked at a normal pace.

"That sounds very nice," Cas said, because it did. Dean made excellent soup. "Thank you for the offer." He watched him fidget with the door latch. "Your house or mine?"

"Mine," Dean said, a little too fast. He cleared his throat. "It's ready now if you wanna come on over."

"Yes," Cas said. He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

They'd worn a path between the shared side yard from his front door to Dean's after their first six months as neighbors. Dean hiked along like he was struggling to keep from moving at the speed of light, and Cas hustled to meet his stride.

Cas wasn't exactly worried; he wasn't exactly not worried either. The big space that served as kitchen and den seemed the same at a cursory glance: well-worn and comfortable, with many of the objects Cas had discarded turned into admirable treasures on display. Dean had painted the square table a rich, glossy emerald green. The paler green glass dishes sat on a shelf above the sink. Some of the books served as a plant stand for a small pot of pothos that trailed its vines across a windowsill in one direction and down to the floor in another.

Cas's castoffs constituted a mere fraction of the things he liked about this space. Photos pinned to a fabric-covered corkboard: teenaged Dean (sarcastic) and Sam (gawky); friends like Charlie, who was upside down on a swingset, hair blazing; their father faraway by a blue-streaked lake; their mother in her perpetual youth holding a swaddled infant Sam while Dean hid his face in her shoulder.

(Cas couldn't quite look directly at four-year-old Dean. It made his heart hurt.)

One window was was lined with a collection of small Batmans alternating with a collection of small Supermans. The brown couch contained the right amount of squish and blankets, to best facilitate movie marathons and naps. Cas had given Dean the two Led Zeppelin pillows in the pleather recliner as Christmas gifts. Dean had taught Cas how to make s'mores in the brick fireplace. Sam had taken the photo on the mantle of Cas and Dean sitting on the rock wall that ran along the yards in front of their respective houses; they were both holding freshly carved jack o'lanterns -- trick o' treaters to arrive within an hour -- and all four faces were grinning.

None of the stuff was even one-one hundredth as interesting or important as its owner. Dean was good, bone deep good. Disastrous before caffeine and argumentative about muscle cars. Willing to die for his brother, or let him play Celine Dion in his house once a year, for three minutes. Unrepentant about cranking Sabbath to decibels that would rival jet engines. Knew way too much about knives to not have a police record somewhere.

Had once sat beside Cas on the squishy couch and listened to Cas talk, and cry, for four or five hours without as much as getting up for a second bottle of beer. At the end, when Cas was worn down half numb with grief, Dean had said, with more gentleness than Cas could hardly bear at the time, "You deserve to be loved so much better than your family was capable of, man," and it had saved Cas's life.

This room was Cas's favorite room in the whole world because it usually contained his favorite person in the whole world.

Aside from Dean acting a little off, the cabin didn't seem any different than it always did.

The angel wings appeared at the corner of his eye, as if materializing from nothing.

He couldn't prevent his own loud gasp; the splashing and clanging noises made when Dean subsequently dropped the soup ladle into the dutch oven on the stove were so distinct and perfect they seemed to Cas like sound effects in a movie.

As Cas crept closer to the large framed sketch on the wall opposite the stove, Dean stood backed against the counter and wrung his hands. "I should explain the artwork, huh."

"Where," Cas said, his voice suddenly raw as steel wool. "Where did you find it?"

"You remember tossing out a suitcase a couple of months ago?" Dean sounded hesitant.

Cas turned to him. "Vaguely. My old Samsonite with the crack in its case."

Dean nodded. "I grabbed it to see if there was anything that could be scrapped."

"And it was rolled up inside," Cas guessed.

"Yeah. Listen."

"Dean--"

"No, listen, I didn't think--"

"Dean, it's okay--"

"I should've just brought it back to you," Dean said.

Cas saw that Dean was mad at himself, or maybe embarrassed, or both, or something else Cas couldn't quite suss out.

"You had it framed?" Cas asked.

Dean glanced up. "I made the frame."

Cas went back to the sketch. This time, he noticed the delicate leaves carved into the frame, the acorns at the corners like little bells. The angel wings, voluminous and vulturous, that he'd sketched in charcoal nearly twenty years before stretched out almost to the edges of the frame. Dean didn't even know Cas had sat for three hours sketching those wings in a towering oak so far at the back of his family's property no-one could see him, or hurt him.

Cas would never been a famous artist, and he’d made peace with that. He was still glad the angel wings hadn’t been lost forever.

"Dean," he said, walking back to touch his hand, "the frame is beautiful. I would've never thought-- Well, I'd forgotten I even still had the sketch."

"I really should've-- You should take it back."

Cas paused. "I will if you don't want it."

Dean quickly said, "I want it. I mean. If you don't mind. I can pay you for--"

"Not necessary." Cas captured Dean's hand and squeezed hard. "You filched it from the curb fair and square."

Dean let out a shaky laugh. "I thought. The drawing is, the wings, they're wonderful."

Warmth thick as sorghum molasses poured into Cas's stomach.

"And you made them," Dean said. "And. I have all these things in my house that were yours in one way or another, yet nothing you'd drawn and as soon as I put it on the wall, I realized-- I don't know." He stared as if Cas were too important to look away from. "All of it, all the stuff, it's still yours. 'Cause you're here all the time. 'Cause I want you here all the time."

He threaded his fingers through Cas's.

Cas couldn't speak. He absolutely could not speak. He knew Dean could tell: Dean gathered him up and held him, and let Cas hold him too.

They stood like that in the kitchen of their home for several minutes, and then they led each other to bed.

#suptober21 #spn #deancas #fic #suptober #destiel

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canniballistix · 4 years

Note

Parallels/metaphor/whatever of john winchester and god both as absentee fathers in hbo spn?

"I can't," Dean hissed.

His hand was shaking. Why was his hand shaking? This was something he'd done a thousand times. He'd lost track of the number of girls he'd kissed.

And yet… his hand shook. His hand shook as it cradled the one which cupped against his cheek, and it only served to make this whole thing all the more intimate.

The boy sighed, and Dean could feel the weight of his breath. "I thought you liked me."

"I do!" Dean said, even as the hand slipped out from under his. "I do, I do, swear to God I do."

"I-it's okay," the boy said. His hand dropped back onto his knee. "Look, I-- I get it, man. You're a guy's guy, and I'm… I dunno."

"Hey." Dean but his hand on the boy's shoulder and gripped it firmly. Though this steadied his hand, he could suddenly feel the way the boy was quaking. "It's nothin' to do with you, okay? You're… I mean, you're…"

The boy's piercing eyes were fixed on Dean's face as he struggled to find the right words. The longer they alluded Dean, the deeper the boy's heart sank.

At last, Dean sighed. "You're fuckin' gorgeous, okay?" he said at last. "Look at you. Jesus."

The hint of a smile tugged at the boy's lips.

"And you got good taste in music, and you're smart," Dean continued. His list ended there, however.

The boy cleared his throat. "But…?"

Dean closed his eyes. The way a business man closes his eyes just before he fired a good, hardworking family man. "But…" he managed to say, fingers wandering across the hem of the boy's shirt, "as much as I want to… I can't."

The boy sat there a moment longer.

It was a strange sort of quiet here, under the bleachers.

It should have been just as loud as the rest of the football field. Yet, somehow, the sounds of the crickets were so much softer. The wind seemed to miss them entirely. Here, on an autumn night, these two boys may as well have been in their own world.

The boy brushed away Dean's hand. Like it was a mosquito. Like it was nothing. "Fine. I get it," he said, getting to his feet. "Really creative way to get out of kissing me. Dramatic. Shakespearean, even."

Dean pounded the ground with one fist, then leapt up after the boy. "God, Jesse, wait--"

Jesse. That's it. His name was Jesse.

"I'm done."

"Please, if you just let me explain, I--"

"You're not explaining!" Jesse whirled to face Dean. "You're not saying anything!"

Dean took a deep breath in, and he was surprised to find that his lungs seemed to be quivering, as well.

Jesse stared at Dean. His fists were clenched at his sides. The floodlights over the football field cast an otherworldly light over his dark and messy hair, like light from heaven itself.

It did not reach Dean where he stood, still under the bleachers, his hand just barely reaching out into its warmth.

"Well?" Jesse prompted.

"My dad," Dean blurted out.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "You dad?"

Dean shook his head. "If he found out-- if he knew--"

"How could he?" Jesse asked.

Dean blinked. His heart was hammering against his ribcage.

"He's not watching, Dean," Jesse said, a hand raised to the sky.

Dean thought about that. He looked to the sky, as well, inexplicably feeling as if John Winchester might be peering down at him from the top of the bleachers.

And yet, despite that strange terror that John was watching, that he would somehow know, this was the first time Dean realized that his father wasn't there. And not just on the bleachers, but anywhere-- anywhere at all in Dean's life where it might have mattered.

Wherever a father should have been--loving or kind or cruel or spiteful--there was merely a hole. A blank space where John may have fit, and yet never did.

The fear was melting away.

Because there was nothing there.

Only stars.

Dean stumbled out into the light. He grabbed Jesse by the front of his hoodie, and kissed him like his life depended on it.

~~~~~

"I can't," Castiel said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You can't what? You can't taste?"

The angel returned a shrug. This was something new he'd picked up from Dean, though he didn't seem to have it down just yet-- Castiel only shrugged his shoulders when he didn't feel like answering, not because he didn't know the answer.

"You're not even gonna try?" Dean asked, pushing the plate of french fries a little closer. "C'mon, how bad could it be?"

"I told you, I can't," Castiel replied, pushing the plate back towards Dean.

"Now that's just stupid," Dean said. "You can't eat at all? For real? Your vessel can eat, can't he?"

"Of course he can," Castiel said, all but rolling his eyes. "I cannot."

Dean gave into temptation and growled lightly, pulling the plate towards himself and chomping down on another french fry.

The diner was quiet. When he was traveling with Castiel, Dean preferred to dine at night-- in fact, he preferred to work on as much of a night schedule as possible. Castiel was, to put it lightly, a fucking weirdo, and corralling him into acting even remotely human was a full-time job.

But anything goes at three in the morning in a twenty-four-hour truck stop.

All that could be heard was the clattering of dishes in the kitchen-- far fewer than those filling the sink twelve hours previously. Occasionally, something would come flying down the highway. Funny how much faster they seemed to rush by when there was so much stillness in-between.

Dean sipped his coffee.

Castiel sat very still, his hands folded delicately on table in front of him. He was staring out at that highway, and yet his eyes seemed hardly focused at all.

Dean leaned forward, trying in vain to see what it was that had Castiel so captured. As he did, he saw the man's reflection ripple along the surface of the glass, light against the darkness of the night.

In passing, Castiel's reflection looked just as one might expect. He was, after all, a dirty little man in a trenchcoat, and that was reflected quite plainly. The closer you looked, however--the longer and deeper you stared into the forms, into his eyes--the more you would see.

Some people saw God or Jesus or whatever. Some people would catch a rare glimpse of the true angel, its power lessened to that of a sharp headache by the reflection. Most people, though, saw people.

No one in particular. Just shadows of people half-remembered, ghosts of the past.

As Dean looked at Castiel's reflection, he saw something familiar in the sharpness of his eyes. In the dark mess of his hair. In the tautness of his lower lids as he gazed out into nothingness.

A boy. His name nearly forgotten--James or Jonathan or something--but his face as crisp and clear as ever.

His first kiss.

Not his first-first kiss. Not really. But his first kiss that had felt the way they say it should.

"Whaddya mean?" Dean asked.

Castiel turned to look at Dean. He didn't ask for clarification-- not out loud, at least.

Dean set his jaw. "What do you mean you can't?" he said. "You can't… like, physically?"

Castiel frowned. "No. I'm quite capable of eating."

He paused.

A pause so long he may have, in fact, finished talking.

Dean cleared his throat. "But…?"

"But," Castiel said, almost stalling, "it is frowned upon."

Dean scoffed. "Frowned upon?"

"Yes," Castiel continued. "The garrison is very strict about how… involved we should be in human culture. Eating, listening to music, dancing--"

"You're not allowed to dance?!" Dean smacked his forehead, biting back a laugh. "Goddamn. Remind me to show you Footloose sometime. You'd get a kick outta that one."

"Mm."

Castiel did not seem near as enchanted by this as Dean. It occurred to Dean that, if listening to music was forbidden, watching movies was likely on the shit list, too.

Dean cleared his throat again. "I mean. That sounds…" But he couldn't think of the words, exactly. "Wh-who told you not to do that junk?"

Castiel cocked his head. "God, of course."

"Right. God." Dean nodded slowly. "Sounds like a stand-up guy."

"I wouldn't know," Castiel said. "I've never met him."

Dean squinted. "You've never met God." Not a question, exactly, though he intended it to be. "Isn't he, like… your dad?"

Castiel sighed. "I suppose you could say that."

"But you've never met him?"

"I've never met him."

"But you're living your life by his rules?"

"Of course," Castiel said. "He… if he found out-- if he knew that I was--"

"How could he?"

Castiel blinked.

"Cas." Dean pushed the plate of french fries back across the table. "God's not watching."

Castiel thought about that. For some reason, he turned to look out the window once more, gazing balefully at a streetlight in the parking lot. As if God himself would appear under it.

And yet, despite that strange terror that God was looking down at him, that he would somehow know, this was the first time that Cas truly realized that his father wasn't there. Not just under the streetlight, but anywhere-- anywhere at all on Earth that may have mattered.

Wherever God should have been--loving or kind or cruel or spiteful--there was merely a hole. A blank space which may have been holy, and yet never was.

The fear was melting away.

Because there was nothing there.

Perhaps Cas himself was the holiest thing on Earth.

Cas reached out and lifted a french fry from the thick ceramic plate. He made eating diner food look like a celebration of the Eucharist.

#im genuinely diseased #hbospn #hbo spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #fic #spn fic #spn fanfic

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deansmom · 4 years

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(ao3) 6k of “what if dean got hit with a love spell on a hunt, and they thought the spell didn’t work because nothing changed until something did.” pray4sam lol, set post canon and 19/20 never happened.

Dean yells something, but Castiel doesn’t hear it over the sound of glass and metal breaking and bending around him. The vampires are throwing him around like a rag doll, and he can’t get his feet under him long enough to even try to stop it.

He feels absurdly, infuriatingly human.

Finally, Dean is able to interrupt the one who’s been doing most of the throwing, and Castiel is able to smite the next one that touches him.

The vampire dies with a loud, abrupt scream and it gives Sam and Dean enough time to take out the other four who’d been using Cas as a play thing.

His grace isn’t as strong as it used to be, and he just hurts everywhere. His head is particularly painful, the way that it’s throbbing so much it feels like his eyes are going to pop out.

He makes a noise that’s supposed to be Dean’s name but it sounds more like a groan. He just needs some help to stand up, and frankly, he’s not sure how structurally sound this building is anymore since they threw him through most of the supporting walls.

Dean is there suddenly, and Castiel has to bite back the instinct to whine at the frantic hands flying over him.

Hands stop on his face, and oh, there he is. Cas opens his mouth to say hello, he’s glad that they found him, something, and then -

Dean kisses him and it’s a little panicked, a little too rough, but mostly, it just feels nice.

He’s helpless to do anything more than lean up into it, one of his own hands grabbing at the sleeve of Dean’s jacket. He makes a noise into it and it turns into a groan very quickly, a twinge in his ribs not letting him move like that.

It startles Dean enough that he pulls back, his concern written clear across his face.

“Are you alright?? Did I hurt you??”

Sam makes a choked squawking noise from somewhere behind them, and both Dean and Cas look over at him. He bites his fist so he doesn’t yell it at them and abruptly walks out of the warehouse because oh my god, the spell wasn’t a dud.

Dean helps Cas out to the car, a hand on his chest and the other hand on his lower back with Cas’ arm thrown over his shoulder.

“Sam, a little help here?!” Dean glares incredulously at his brother, not even reacting to Castiel’s head falling onto his shoulder.

Sam jumps out of the passenger seat and opens the back door of the Impala, “Sorry, yeah, I just - I had to -“

Dean makes a displeased noise that sounds like Miracle when they stop petting her too soon.

“Yeah, whatever ya fuckin weirdo.” He moves the hand from Cas’ chest to his pocket and digs out the keys, “Here, Sammy, you drive.”

Sam blinks at the keys for a second too long, his brain still trying to process the fact that his brother has been under a spell for the last 3 weeks, and gets the keys tossed at his chest for the trouble.

He pouts a little bit despite himself, grabbing the keys from where they fell.

Dean is trying to figure out a way to get himself in the backseat without letting go of Cas and it’s not working. He’s got 5’11” of dead weight leaning on his shoulder, and Dean’s not as young as he used to be.

“A little help here?!”

Sam jumps forward, sliding his arms around Cas to hold him up, “Right, sorry.”

Dean slides in as soon as Cas is safely supported, and then leans forward to grab his shoulders again.

It takes the two of them a minute to figure out the coordination for this, and Cas gets his head slammed against the car once for their troubles. Miraculously neither the bump nor Dean yelling death threats at Sam gets a reaction out of him, other than a quiet groan.

When they successfully have him folded up in the backseat, Dean pulls Castiel’s head onto his lap and runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay, let’s get him to the motel room,” he sighs, sounding equal parts exhausted and worried.

Sam hesitates for a moment with the door open, moments from the past few weeks flying through his head in a new context now. Holy shit, he’s so dumb. They’re all so dumb.

Dean’s voice snaps him out of it, “Sam, come on!” He’s trying to glare at his brother, but he just looks more weirded out than anything, “What the hell is with you, man?? Let’s go.”

He nods, jumping into action and shutting the door a little too harshly. It earns him another squawk from the back seat and Sam winces, “Sorry.”

Holy shit, this is absurd.

Sam hesitates for a beat and decides against trying to talk to Dean now, heading over to the drivers side door.

He gets in the Impala and starts her up immediately, turning down the radio to a quieter volume when it starts playing.

He chances a look in the rear view mirror for a second, and he almost chokes on his tongue when he sees the look on Dean’s face.

He’s never felt so stupid in his life.

Sam shakes himself out of it and pulls the car out onto the main road, barely remembering to look both ways.

They’re quiet for a couple minutes, Dean lost in his concern, Sam lost in the memories of the past twelve years that now have a completely different context and holy shit.

The radio is still playing quietly in the background and it’s something, Sam’s not really sure what, because they didn’t drive here together. They’re going to have to go pick up Castiel’s truck at some point before they leave and huh, maybe Sam will just go and do that after he talks to them.

That’ll buy all of them like what, an hour? Two?

He’s so deep in his own thoughts that Sam almost misses it when he hears the voice coming from the back seat.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Dean whispers, his voice sounding softer than Sam’s ever heard it. “You scared the hell out of me back there.”

“...apologies,” Castiel’s equally soft voice answers, sounding rough. “They got the jump on me, and I -“

Dean shushes him, “Hey, you got nothing to apologize for.”

Castiel sighs, and Sam can hear his trench coat shifting on the bench, “Dean...”

Dean does something that makes the car quiet for a couple seconds too long and Sam has to resist the urge to clear his throat.

“Cas, I’m just glad you’re okay. Now close your eyes again for me? We’re almost back at the hotel.”

“‘M not tired,” is the grumbled reply Sam hears.

“Yeah okay superman, that’s fine, but you’re squinting at me and it’s making my head hurt. Close your eyes, it’ll make you feel better.”

Castiel sighs, the trench coat shifting again, “Alright, Dean.”

Sam turns the radio up just a little bit, feeling suddenly like he’s intruding on something even though he’s heard these conversations a million times before.

Holy shit, he’s so dumb.

When they get to the motel, Cas is more awake and is able to walk himself up to his room with Dean’s help.

Sam debates going to the front desk to see if they have another room he can get, since they’d been planning to just crash in Cas’ room anyways.

No, he should really take care of this whole shitshow first. Who knows what the effects of Dean being cursed for this long will be? And what if they...

He shakes himself out of it, literally, and finally gets out of the Impala to follow behind them.

They’re barely starting up the steps by the time Sam catches up to them and he catches just a snippet of their conversation.

“Really Dean, I’m alright,” Castiel is grumbling, putting way more weight on Dean than is probably necessary.

Dean snorts, the hand on Castiel’s lower back pressing firmly against him every time they go up a step, “Yeah, you’ve never looked better.”

Castiel groans, glaring at him as they go up another step, “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean grins at him, the tips of his ears turning a little pink. “That’s why you like me.”

Sam takes a couple steps backwards and decides that no, he’s going to give them a minute and grab their bags. Maybe go to the front desk and check on that room after all.

At the rate they’re going (at the rate Dean is milking this, he should say), they’ll be at the top of the stairs in like ten minutes anyways.

They don’t even notice that Sam’s not behind them anymore.

Figures.

Sam rolls his eyes and heads back to the Impala, pulling out his phone once he has the trunk open.

He types out a quick text to Eileen and Bobby.

‘Remember that hunt a couple weeks ago with the witches? Dean did get cursed. Need a spell to undo it ASAP.’

Eileen answers first.

‘A delayed spell?’

Sam snorts, running a hand through his hair.

‘No, I’m just an idiot.’

‘???’

‘I’ll explain later. Can you guys help?’

Finally Bobby answers and it makes Sam laugh out loud. He may not exactly be their Bobby, but sometimes he’s close enough that it’s hard to even tell the difference.

‘Don’t text me Sam, just call. Will c what I can dig up.’

Eileen’s reply comes after that.

‘I’m close, I’ll go help.’

Sam smiles, that warm feeling he gets every time they talk blooming in his chest again.

‘I owe you both.’

He grabs their duffles and slams the trunk shut.

When he gets up to the room ten minutes later, it takes Dean a couple minutes to actually open the door.

Much to Sam’s surprise (and delight) they both look just as miserable and clothed as when he left them. Good, that means Dean hasn’t done something that will freak him out later.

He hands Dean his duffle and a key, “Here, I’ve got the room two doors over.”

Dean frowns, taking both things, “Why’d you get another room? I’m not leaving Cas alone tonight. He could have a concussion, Sam.”

Castiel groans from the bed, “Dean I told you, I have enough Grace. I’ll be fine, I just need time -“

Dean snaps, not even looking back at him when he says, “Cas, I love you, but shut the fuck up, this isn’t up for debate.”

Castiel’s mouth closes with an audible click, Sam feels lightheaded all of a sudden and Dean looks like he can’t believe he’s got two idiots in the same room as him.

“What?!” He growls, looking back and forth between the two of them, “Why the hell are you guys being weird??”

Sam opens his mouth to say something, but Cas beats him to the punch.

He gets up to hobble over to them, and Dean’s there supporting him before he even gets two steps away from the bed.

“Dean,” he sighs, reluctantly leaning into his arms for support. “On second thought, I am hungry. Could you please go pick up some food?”

Castiel smiles at the confused look on his face and sets a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “I do think it will help me heal faster.”

That seems to be a good enough reason for Dean because any defensiveness melts away immediately. He nods, already guiding Cas backwards again, “Fine, but you’ve gotta stay here on this bed, and rest.”

Cas lets Dean settle him onto the bed again and sighs, trying to sound more put-out than he feels, “Alright, if you insist.”

“Damn right I insist,” Dean huffs.

And then, like it’s fine and totally normal and not throwing either one of them off their game, he leans down and kisses the top of his head.

“Okay,” Dean says as he stands upright. “Sammy, you stay here with Cas. I’ll go get burgers and then we’ll talk about why you’re being so weird.”

He points at Sam as he says it, his expression clearly meaning that he thinks Sam is the one who isn’t being normal.

Sam nods, finally stepping into the room, “Yeah, alright, sounds good.”

Dean grabs the Impala’s keys from Sam’s hand and starts to head out the door when Sam remembers.

“Oh shit, Dean!” He yelps, stepping out into the hallway again.

Dean sighs and turns around, throwing his hands up, “What?!”

Sam cringes, pointing to Dean’s face, “You got vamp all over you.”

At the reminder, Dean brings a hand up to wipe his face off and blanches when he sees the blood and chunks on it (eugh).

The most shocking thing, believe it or not, is that Dean just kinda shrugs after a moment.

“Gross, I’ll wipe it off in the car, but I gotta go get the food for Cas.”

Sam just kinda... gapes at his brother, and eventually feels himself nodding. “Yeah, uh... yeah okay. Just don’t go in anywhere looking like that.”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns back around, heading towards the stairs, “What is this Sam, my first rodeo?! I got it.”

Because his brain is still trying to process everything it’s figured out in the last thirty minutes, Sam just goes back into the motel room. He shuts the door behind him and points at Cas, “We need to talk.”

Castiel deflates a little, shifting himself so he’s resting against the headboard, “Dean is under a love spell, isn’t he?”

Sam sighs, dropping his duffle by the foot of the bed, “I’m gonna go with yeah.”

Someone yells at their TV nearby, the radiator kicks on and Castiel groans when he sits up and starts pulling the trench coat off.

“I don’t understand why it just kicked in now,” he grumbles, sounding petulant.

Sam snorts and sits down at the end of the bed, barely missing his feet, “I don’t think it did, Cas.”

He gets a squint for his troubles, and Sam sighs, realizing that this might be a more difficult conversation than he was anticipating.

Look, he’s not blind, okay? He kinda figured that Dean had like, a crush or something on Cas. And he knows that Cas has had a crush on Dean for god, who knows? Maybe since they first met?

But he always just kinda figured that the two of them knew about it and just, like... didn’t think it was a good idea.

In the time it took for them to drive over here, Sam’s started to think that they have no idea.

He sighs again, looking up at the ceiling, “Look, you know how Dean’s been a little bit more touchy the last couple weeks?”

Again, remembering the day after they got home from ganking the witches when Sam caught Dean rubbing Castiel’s shoulders, he fees like the biggest idiot in the world.

Cas shifts on the bed, shrugging a little, “I don’t understand what that has to do with anything, Sam. Your brother is a very tactile person.”

And yeah, okay, add that one to the list of “Reasons Why Sam Is Stupid.”

He rolls his head over to look at Cas, “Dude, maybe, but he isn’t normally like that.”

Castiel sits up and then groans again, falling back against the pillows.

“I don’t understand, your brother isn’t...” He glares at his hands, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat, “He isn’t interested in me, Sam.”

Not for the first time in the last hour, Sam desperately wishes for something to ram his head through. This is absurd.

Cas hums, looking very human, “Although I suppose that a love spell would make that a moot point...”

Sam sets a hand on his ankle and turns so he’s facing his friend, “Cas.”

He doesn’t look up from his hands and Sam resists the urge to yell in frustration by squeezing Castiel’s leg, “Dude, look at me for a second, please.”

After a couple moments, he finally does look up at him and Sam wants to laugh. Cas looks so nervous and just, painfully human, and Sam almost feels bad for the guy.

“Yeah, Dean’s been under the influence of the spell the last couple weeks.”

Castiel looks away again, and Sam moves so he’s still in his line of sight.

“But buddy, you’re insane if you think that he doesn’t love you.”

The person in another room yells at their TV again and then all Sam can hear is the pipes in the bathroom, rattling with the effort of bringing water to someone in the building.

“I’d like to be alone now, Sam,” Castiel says after a couple minutes of silence.

Sam rolls his eyes and lets go of his ankle, “Dean’s going to kill me if I’m not here when he gets back.”

He seems to consider that for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. Then I’d like to wait for my food in the bathroom please.”

They both just stare at each other for a while, both of them daring the other to say anything about it. Finally Sam sighs and stands up, “Yeah, okay. Do you need help, or...?”

Castiel stands up and he has to steady himself on Sam’s arm for a beat. He does, however, swat off Sam’s hands when they move to support him, “I’m fine, Sam. I can walk.”

That annoying little brother part of him wants to point out how hard Cas was leaning on Dean earlier, but he bites his tongue. He just steps out of the way and makes a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

Castiel glares at him like he knows what Sam is thinking, and oh man, is that his ears turning pink?

Sam grins at him, wanting to say something else, but Cas just shoves past him and makes a beeline for the bathroom. He’s definitely got a little bit of a limp, and he’s for sure favoring one side over the other, but he makes it to the bathroom completely fine on his own. The door promptly slams shut in Sam’s face.

He snickers fondly to himself, going over to turn the TV on. He finds a channel that looks entertaining enough and flops down on the couch, keeping the volume low enough that he can hear it Cas needs help.

Dean comes back twenty minutes later with bags overflowing and his hands full.

“Guys, dinner’s up!”

He sets his bounty on the tiny table by the door and looks around the room, grinning. The grin disappears completely when Cas isn’t on the bed, and Sam’s just looking at him from the couch.

“Hey, Cas just decided to take a shower.”

And he did, honest. He even poked his head out like two minutes ago and asked Sam to bring him a change of clothes.

Dean’s face looks a little panicked again and Sam jumps up, holding his hands out in a placating motion.

“Hey, he’s fine Dean, he just hopped in. He won’t be out for a couple minutes.”

He comes over and sets a hand on Dean’s shoulder, kinda feeling like he’s dealing with an emotional time bomb.

“Come eat,” he tries again, squeezing Dean’s shoulder. “That way when Cas is done and ready to eat his own food, you can totally focus on him.”

That seems to snap Dean out of the panic spiral he looked like he was going down, and he’s visibly trying to make himself not look like that’s what was happening.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, looking away from the bathroom door. “Yeah, okay, good call.”

Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes when Dean turns around and starts digging through the bags.

He takes his impossible burger when it’s handed to him, and sits down with his back to the bathroom door to appease his brother.

Dean offers him a sheepish smile and sits across from his brother. His butt is barely in the chair when he takes a big bite out of his burger and well Sam, it’s now or never.

“Dean,” he starts, trying to find the right words for this.

“You kissed Cas.”

Well, okay, probably not the best start.

Dean frowns at him through the next big bite he takes and asks, mouth full, “So?”

Sam shifts uncomfortably in his seat, picking a stray piece of onion off the side of his burger.

“Well, Dean, you don’t... normally do that.”

Again, Dean’s got that look on his face like he thinks Sam has once and for all fully lost his mind.

“What the hell are you talking about, Sam? Of course I do.”

Please, God, he prays, wondering if Jack can hear him. I don’t want to have this conversation with my brother.

When nothing happens Sam groans, his hands coming up to rub his temples, “Dean, remember a couple weeks ago? That job with the coven?”

Dean takes a bite of a fry, staring blankly at Sam while he chews, “What about it? We beat them.”

God, please, a sinkhole, a lightning bolt, something.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, his fingers working into his head harder. “And remember the spell that one of them tried with you right before Cas killed her...?”

Dean shrugs, taking another fry, “Yeah, and? It was a dud, it didn’t work.”

Would slamming his head against the table be too dramatic? Because that’s how this conversation is beginning to feel.

Sam sets his hands on the table, fully glaring at his brother, “It wasn’t a dud. It was a love spell, and it hit you, and you’re in love with Cas.”

Dean blinks at him for a moment, narrowing his eyes a little, “Yeah...” He’s speaking slowly, like Sam is either stupid or insane (he’s starting to really feel both), “That’s because I am.”

Because he’s nothing if not a true little brother, Sam groans and glares up at the ceiling, silently begging Jack to help him.

Of course he doesn’t, because he’s got bigger things to do and to worry about, but Sam feels like he’s being punished instead of Dean.

“Are you feeling okay, Sammy?” Dean takes another bite of his burger and keeps talking while he chews, “You’re acting really weird.”

Sam scrunches his face up in disgust, “Ugh, Dean, you’re gross. How does Cas even...”

Something makes Dean choke a little bit on the food in his mouth and it takes him a full minute to swallow it. Sam wants to laugh at the panic on Dean’s face because his brother is 42 going on 4, but he doesn’t.

“Sam, don’t even...” Dean glares at him warily, sneaking a look over at the bathroom, “Cas doesn’t... Y’know...” He makes a vague gesture with his hands and oh my god.

“Dean,” he starts, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “Do you...” Sam licks his lips, trying to resist the urge to scream at him, “Do you think that Cas doesn’t love you?”

And now Dean’s blushing and squirming in his seat like he’s 13 and somebody just asked him if his crush like him back and ohmygod, Sam is going to fling himself into traffic.

“He’s an Angel, man,” Dean hisses. “They don’t work like that.”

“I’m going to kill myself,” Sam groans loudly, letting his head fall forward with a thunk on the table. “Ow, fuck.”

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice interrupts them. He’s standing in between the bathroom door and the bed, wearing some of Dean’s old PJ’s.

(What? Sam’s not stupid, he wasn’t going to give Cas his PJ’s - what if they had sex on them or something? Gross.)

“We need to talk.”

Dean shrinks in on himself a little, not looking away from Cas, “Buddy, look, it’s not what it sounds like -“

Castiel rolls his eyes, his arms coming up to cross over his chest, “Dean, you kissed me.”

Again, he squirms a little in his seat, “So?”

Now at least, someone else is sharing in Sam’s pain.

Castiel sighs, “You haven’t done that since purgatory.”

And welp, holy shit, okay, that’s news.

Dean scoffs, taking a fry from Sam’s pile since his are all gone, “What??? That’s not true.”

“And you said you loved me,” Castiel grumbles, squirming himself now. “You’ve never said that to me before.”

“Well, I -“ Dean starts, shrugging, “I mean, I thought you knew?”

Castiel squawks, most definitely does not stomp his foot, “I don’t appreciate being... made fun of like this, Dean.” He’s trying to look pissed, but he’s just kinda radiating hurt so bad that Sam can feel it from all the way over here.

“I know it’s the spell that’s making you act like this, Dean, but I don’t appreciate you throwing my own words in my face so callously. It hurts.”

Sam’s brain comes to such an abrupt screeching halt that he wonders if they can hear it.

‘Throwing my own words’?! Does that...

“Cas,” Dean starts, finally getting up from his chair. “I’m not under any sort of spell, man. It’s just me in here.”

Castiel glares, unmoved, “You are, Dean, and the sooner we can fix it, the better.”

“I’m not!” He growls, returning his glare, “And I don’t appreciate you making fun of me either.”

“Guys!!” Sam yells to interrupt them, the tension getting a little too thick for his comfort, “Cas, Dean is under a love spell, but he’s also in love with you, you idiot.”

Sam turns to Dean and points at him, “And you, you absolute fucking moron, Cas said I love you, and you still don’t believe it?!”

Dean’s glare turns into something like a pout, “He was dying!”

Sam barely resists the urge to yell, and instead just asks as calmly as he can, “So?!”

“Well, I...” Dean frowns, looking down at his shoes.

Cas sighs, his voice much softer than before when he says, “Sam, I think your brother and I need to speak alone for a minute.”

Every ounce of tension and anxiety drains out of Sam’s body at once and he nods, running over to grab his bag and his food, “Thank Christ, I’ll be down the hall if you guys need me.”

Neither one of them says anything until the door’s closed behind him, and even then it takes Cas a minute to figure out what to say.

“Dean, will you...” he sighs, sitting on the bed again, “Will you please come here?”

Dean nods, reluctantly sitting down next to him.

He won’t even look at Cas and he’s going to drive Castiel insane one day. He’s going to lose his damn mind and throw this infuriating human through a wall.

“Look, I -“

“Cas, I -“

They both smile sheepishly at each other, each surprised that the other person said anything.

“No, you go ahead,” Dean says at the same time Cas says, “Apologies, Dean, you -“

They both laugh, some of the tension draining out of both of them.

Sam’s right, this whole thing is absurd.

“So...” Dean starts after a couple minutes, “We... don’t normally kiss.”

Castiel smiles, not taking his eyes off of his hands, “No, we don’t.”

“And I...” Dean winces, looking out the window across from them, “I’ve been under a love spell for the last couple weeks.”

This time, the smile is much more sad and less fond, “It would certainly appear that way.”

Something occurs to Dean and he groans, burying his head in his hands, “Oh my god.”

At that, Cas shifts on the bed so he’s angled towards Dean, a hand resting on his knee. “Dean, it’s alright...”

He shakes his head, refusing to look up from his hands because holy shit, he’s been under a spell for three weeks and he’s so damn gone on Cas that NOBODY NOTICED THE DIFFERENCE.

This is mortifying.

He flops backwards on the bed, groaning again, “Oh my god.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, sounding way more annoyed now. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Dean whines despite himself, flopping his arms down beside him on the bed, “Jack! Jack, damn it, I know you’re busy but I need your help!”

Castiel makes a frustrated noise, “Dean, I can lift the-“

A hand comes up and grabs his wrist before it can touch Dean, “No.” Dean’s voice is firm, even though he still won’t look at him.

“You need your mojo more than me. Heal.”

At that Castiel sighs, shaking his head, “Fine. Jack, my apologies for bothering you, but if you could please just...”

The curtains whoosh, and then Jack is standing at the foot of the bed. He smiles at them, big and open and oh so Jack.

“Hi Dean! Hi Cas!” He gives them a tiny wave before the smile falls off his face, “What’s wrong?”

Castiel squeezes Dean’s leg, “Dean is under a spell. I would lift it myself, but -“

Dean pushes himself up, trying to smile at Jack, “He’s hurt, needs his grace to heal. And I need this spell lifted, please.”

Jack nods, solemn, “Of course. Have you...?” He looks around the room, frowning when he realizes Sam isn’t here, “Have you tried a reversal spell?”

Again Dean sighs, “It’s... a couple weeks old. We don’t know what spell they used.”

That seems to be explanation enough for him, because then Jack is there next to them, and his hand is on Dean’s face.

He closes his eyes out of habit more than anything, holding his breath.

“...There,” Jack says after a moment. He removes his hand, grinning at them, “That should’ve fixed it.”

The difference is subtle. Dean feels exactly the same as he has for the last three weeks, but now he’s mortified and wants to crawl into a hole and die.

God, what was he thinking?? He doesn’t get to love Cas like that, not after everything.

Dean wants to disappear into the ether but he just returns the smile as best he can and nods, “Yeah-“ His voice cracks, “Yeah, uh, that did it.”

Castiel is watching him warily, but he does offer Jack a smile, “Thank you.”

Jack reaches out as if to heal him too, and Castiel just stops him with a shake of the head.

“Really Jack, I’m alright. I’ll be healed by tomorrow.”

He can feel Dean fidgeting next to him with the desire to bolt, to run away from the situation he’s created, so Cas silently asks Jack to leave them. Thankfully, miraculously, he still seems to hold some authority over him, and he does.

Dean tries to hop up as soon as he’s gone and Cas just tightens his grip on Dean’s leg.

“Dean Winchester -“ he starts, his mouth suddenly going dry with the question. Cas has to lick his lips a couple times to get his voice to start working, and he fights the urge to preen when he catches Dean chasing the movement with his eyes.

“Do you...” His voice cracks, “Do you really love me?”

Dean looks just like he did before the Empty took him. He’s barely holding back his tears and he’s terrified. His whole being is begging Cas not to do this, not to put everything on the line like this.

Because now, Castiel thinks he might understand what that face means. Don’t put everything on the line like this, don’t break my heart, don’t make me lose you again.

But oh my god, Cas is so tired. And much like Sam in the car, Cas has spent most of his time in the bathroom going over memories of the last twelve years with some new context.

“Dean...” His voice is soft as his hand comes up to rest on his cheek, “I meant what I said. I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

Dean closes his eyes, leaning into the hand, “Why?”

Castiel sighs, pushing some of his feelings through his Grace to meld with Dean’s soul. He’s never been good with words and he just - he needs Dean to know.

He needs Dean to know that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than Dean’s smile, than his soul, and Castiel saw the universe come to fruition. He is millions of years old and he never understood why humans do the things that they do until he met Dean. He’s never loved anything as much as he loves Dean, not even his father, and it terrifies him.

He shows Dean his memories - watching him rake leaves, pulling him out of hell, watching over him at night, that night before they interrogated Raphael. He shows him purgatory, that first time since that night they kissed. He shows him every moment since then that he’s been overwhelmed with the urge to kiss Dean and protect him and tell him how much he loves him.

He shows Dean the dreams that he’s visited, he shows him the heaven he’s designed for him when he’s ready, he shows him his own wildest dreams he never lets himself think about.

Cas shows Dean a dream of them in bed together, and a little girl jumping on the bed to wake them up on Christmas morning. He shows Dean a dream of him cooking in the kitchen, and Cas coming up behind him to kiss his shoulder. He shows Dean a dream of them when they’re 80, sitting in their rocking chairs on the front porch of their house while they watch their grandkids play in the yard. He shows Dean a dream where they get to grow old together, be happy, die with each other in their sleep.

Dean gasps despite himself, tears flowing freely and uncaring to stop them. He closes his eyes again and pushes his own feelings through the connection.

His soul is vibrating with all the love it feels because Dean has never loved anyone or anything like he loves Cas. He wants Cas to know that he makes Dean feel brave, he makes Dean feel like there’s something worth fighting for. He shows Cas how much he trusts him, wholly and completely. He shows him a memory of him choking back tears when he thought Cas was really gone after Sam killed Lilith. How sad and confused he was because he should’ve been happy and he just felt kinda empty.

He shows Cas the alternate universe where they shared a cabin, where Cas was a wreck, where they loved each other so much and so hard that they destroyed each other. He shows Cas every moment he wanted to kiss him, every memory he has where all he could think was “I love you, don’t do this to me.” He shows Cas purgatory, all that time fighting through everything with Benny to find him, how terrified and in love he was back then. He shows Cas everything, every moment he thought he was being obvious about it and apparently wasn’t.

The memories of every time he lost Cas leak in without his permission. Him drowning in grief, drowning in alcohol, drowning in rage, just drowning. How empty and hollow he felt every time and how scared he was. Because Cas makes him brave.

And then he shows him dreams - the two of them running an inn for hunters. The two of them waking up together, eating breakfast together, starting their day together. The two of them watching movies together with Dean’s head in his lap, their loved ones safe around them. Taking care of a new generation of hunters, babysitting Garth and Sam’s kids, making dinner for Claire and Kaia when they come visit on the way home from a hunt. The two of them with Jack on Christmas morning, Cas kissing him under the mistletoe, Cas dancing with him in the kitchen while Christmas dinner cooks.

Castiel opens his eyes, and oh. Oh, this is what that feeling is that Dean radiates sometimes. He gets feelings through their connection sometimes, when Dean prays, but he was never sure what this one was. It felt familiar and like it was supposed to be happy, but never fully got there.

Contentment.

Dean wants all of that and more with him, but he just needs Cas in his life. He’ll take him in whatever way he can have him.

“Oh,” he whispers, a smile on his face. “Oh, Dean, you’ve always had me.”

Dean looks like he’s barely holding it together.

He spent so long thinking that he was crazy, he was just projecting, Cas didn’t love him like that.

And here Cas was, drowning in it too the whole damn time.

This time when Dean pulls him in for a kiss, it’s much more gentle and slow. Neither one of them is good at being tender, but they’re both so scared of each other that it’s the only way they know how to touch anymore.

“Cas, I...” he mumbles in between kisses.

Castiel shushes him, taking Dean’s bottom lip in between his teeth, “I know, Dean. I know.”

Down the hall, Sam and Jack are watching some Disney reruns together. Jack offers him the box of red vines, “Would you like one, Sam?”

He shrugs and takes one without looking away from the tv, “Thanks.”

When the commercial break comes on Jack asks, “Do you think they’re okay in there?”

Sam snorts and takes a swig of his beer, “Yeah buddy, I think they’re okay.”

#deancas fic #deancas fix it #destiel fix it #spndeancas #mackenzie attempts fics #personal #otp: cursed or not #I wrote this all on my phone most of it in the last 3 hours l o l sorry if there's any errors I tried

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wormstacheangel · 4 years

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Day 10: Sweet Rides

“Wow.” The waitress whistled as she leaned against the bar next to Cas. Both their eyes on Dean as they were mesmerized by his pouty lips while his hips moved along with the mechanical bull between his legs. “He looks like a lot of fun.”

“Mmm.” Was the only thing Cas said as he took a sip of the strawberry margarita Dean had ordered for him as a joke. Turned out it was really good and now both of them drank three which is how Dean ended up on the bull in the first place. Not that he really needed an excuse. Dean was eyeing the bull since they walked into the bar.

Dean meet Cas’s eyes and shared a flirty wink with him that made Cas’s cheeks redder but he was sure he was mostly warm from the shit ton of tequila they added to their drinks.

“Man, I would love to ride him next.” The waitress commented out loud and Cas couldn’t hold in the chuckle that came next when she noticed she had said it out loud.

Luckily the whole bar roused up in cheers for Dean as the bull slowed to a steady stop. He joined along with the clapping as he watched Dean fall back against the bull to catch his breath, eyes closed and a proud smile on his lips. Then like the shy but devastatingly handsome guy he was he fell off the bull to wave shyly at the crowd. A beaming smile brightening his whole face.

He walked towards where Cas was waiting for him as people clapped him on the shoulders as if he was a damn hero, which he was but none of these people knew that, instead of riding a mechanical bull for a minute and thirty-three seconds and breaking some sort of record the bar had.

“Oh god, he’s coming this way.” The waitress says under her breath and Cas wondered when she got so comfortable with him that she adjusted her breast so they looked...higher? Bigger? “He seems like a fun sweet ride for the night, don’t you think?”

She winked at him with a nudge and Cas had to fight back a giggle as he nodded in agreement.

“Oh, he sure is.”

“Babe!” Dean finally made it to him and was clearly still in his happy high when he wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist to lift him up from the ground. Hugging him to his chest as he pressed a soft kiss on his lips, both of them smiling into it. “Did you see me out there?”

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, his fingers playing with the hairs in the back of his head. “I did. You looked really...hot up there.”

Dean raised a suggestive eyebrow and Cas copied his expression before Dean’s eyes widened.

“Oh hell yeah. Let me-let me pay the bill and we’ll get out of here.” Dean put Cas down but he didn’t need to go far to find a waitress as she was still standing by Cas’s side. Mouth slacked open just a little and when Cas met her eyes her blush flooded her cheeks. “Hey, can we get our bill?”

She looked away from Cas as she looked up at Dean, smiling tightly. She waved her hand at him as she chuckled nervously, “It’s on us! You-you get-I just...I’m sorry. Have a goodnight!”

Dean watched her leave and then looked at Cas for an explanation but Cas just shrugged pretending he didn’t know what was her problem. Then Cas took Dean’s hand and all else was forgotten as they walked out of the bar towards Baby.

That night, tangled up in motel sheets, Cas whispered, “You’re my sweet ride.”

Dean had chuckled, a blush rising up his ears, as he held Cas close. “Yeah, whatever weirdo.”

#suptober20 #Destiel #Deancas #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Cas #Dean #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #My Writing

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destielfanfic · 4 years

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My First Destiel Fic, vol.3

Thank you guys for sharing your memories! My First Destiel Fic is a nostalgic survey open to any destiel fan and has a simple goal - to celebrate fics that were our gateway into a wonderful world of destiel shipping. Thank you, fic writers, you are our heroes!

from @nextheirofslytherin

my first destiel fic was “In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Dare Elsewhere” by RhymePhile. the girl i liked who got me into supernatural in middle school recommended it to me, so it always has a special place in my heart 😅 it was the first fic i read on ao3 too! i read it while i was watching s3 (cas hadn’t even shown up yet!) but the show was in its 9-10th season

All fic titles link directly to the fic, when it’s possible, we have added another link to our review or submitted rec post.

In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn’t Dare Elsewhere by rhymephile [M, 34,000 word count, posted 2010] (our review)

It's 1995, and Castiel's high school years are destined to be difficult: home-schooled until eighth grade, he is awkward, shy, and socially inept. The weird kid with the funny name would rather isolate himself and draw in his sketchbook than deal with the constant bullying he faces every day. Things only get worse in his junior year when he excels in home economics class, leading the captain of the baseball team, Alastair, to start taunting him for being gay. Then new student Dean Winchester arrives at Flour Bluff High School, sharing many of Castiel's classes. Castiel has seen his type before -- handsome, athletic, arrogant, and sure to be the most popular kid in school. But Castiel eventually learns that he and Dean have more in common than he thought, and they form an unlikely friendship.

from @deansbff

i joined the fandom in the beginning of 2019 and molting expectations by tricia_16 was the first fic (over 11k words) that i read. it really made me fall in love with deancas because i realised i didn't need them to be in the canon!verse to be so wonderful, their relationship was amazing in whatever universe they were in and it was always intriguing to read about!!

Molting Expectations by tricia_16 [163,100 word count, posted 2019]

After having trouble coping with a traumatic incident on the job, Dean takes his little brother's advice and leaves everything behind to go stay at the old family cabin in Colorado. Nobody's been there for years so it needs some major work, but it's secluded, and that turns out to be exactly what Dean needs in order to start to feel at peace again. Now in the mountains with nothing but nature to amuse himself with, he takes up bird watching and plans a hike into the mountain range across from his cabin in search of a golden eagle. High up in the mountains, he discovers human footprints. Thinking someone is in danger, he follows them into a cave and quickly becomes familiar with a form of wildlife he never could have imagined: winged people who call themselves angels.

from @bornonathursdayinmarch

I actually started out in the fandom against Destiel. I mean, it was pretty clear that Dean Winchester was not into men. But then I read “Redemption Road” by accident around 2015. I didn’t know it was Destiel. But I got really into it and this fic totally changed my mind on Dean/Cas. I have since read hundreds of Destiel fics and I am more into the ship than ever. My absolute favorite fanfic is “Sweaters and Cigarettes” by lemonoclefox. I love how shy, caring Dean softens cynical Castiel and how in love they are despite being so different. It makes me smile when I’m down.

Redemption Road by spnredemption (the fic is a collaborative effort of a group of destiel writers and artists) [NC-17, 650,000 word count, 24 episodes, posted 2011-12)

With Castiel having set himself up as the new God, drunk on power and volatile as a nuclear reactor, Dean, Sam, and Bobby find themselves on the run from the jealous, capricious monster wearing the face of their friend. Desperate for protection and wary of his brother’s mental state since Castiel unlocked Sam’s memories of Hell, Dean knows Castiel must be defused before he can wreak further havoc in Heaven or on Earth. Although Bobby advocates for destroying Castiel by whatever means necessary, Dean is convinced the Cas he once knew still remains, buried somewhere beneath the mass of poisonous souls and calling out for help. Determined to save the angel who once rescued him from Hell and redefined his purpose in life, Dean himself must resist the allure of the false deity vying for his obedience, and come to terms with the knowledge, long-suppressed, that his feelings for Castiel run much deeper than brotherhood. It is this bond, and the dubious distinction of the Righteous Man, that will ultimately grant Dean access to where Castiel’s grace languishes in Purgatory. However, what Dean brings back with him is broken, angry, and only half-angel, certainly not the Castiel he remembers—and nor is it the only thing that returns to Earth with them…

Sweaters & Cigarettes by lemonoclefox [NC-17, 150,000 word count, posted 2014] NOTE - the fic was deleted from ao3 by the author, please see our review for more details

Dean Winchester is in high school, crushing hard on Castiel Novak, the unbelievably hot goth who Dean does his very best to convince himself he hates, despite the fact that he can’t really stop staring at him. Dean tries, but when the two of them finally cross paths, their first conversation takes a surprising turn. And suddenly, they both find themselves falling harder and faster than they ever could have expected.

from @iamasphodelknox

Hi! The fic that made Destiel my OTP was The Walk series by Persephoneshadow. It blew my mind and I hadn’t even started watching Supernatural yet. 🙈 I started watching the show last year, just as Season 15 was starting. I’m a newbie but this comfort ship felt like coming home. I also read a turn of the earth by microcomets just as I got to season 4 and it is one of the best things I’ve ever read, fic or no. :)

The Walk by Persephoneshadow [NC-17, 190,000 word count, posted 2017]

Castiel tells himself it was a one time thing, even if his night with a hooker named Dean changed his whole world, but he can’t keep away from the man fate keeps throwing in his path. Castiel is married and he knows his sexuality is an affront to God and everything he’s ever been told is right. Dean tells himself he doesn’t care about the weirdo with blue eyes, but every time they meet he gets a bit closer to something like hope. Dean’s nothing but a homeless waste of space with a brother in foster care a world away and a father in the wind. As the connection between these two lost men deepens, it threatens the carefully maintained lies their lives are built on in a story of faith, mistakes, and the journey of love.

a turn of the earth by mishcollin microcomets [NC-17, 95,300 word count, posted 2015] (our review)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run. Frigging fantastic. (Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline pre series and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

If you enjoyed the fic, please drop by the archive (AO3) and let the author know with your comments and/or kudos! And if you found our recs useful, let us know by Liking and/or Reblogging our posts!

You can find all My First Destiel Fic posts under this tag!

#destiel #destielfanficnet #my first destiel fic #hey guys #these are all submissions we received #if you don't see yours here #please contact mod flyingcatstiel directly #nextheirofslytherin #deansbff #bornonathursdayinmarch #iamasphodelknox

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years

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Chapter Seven: Way Down To Wonderland

(Image not mine)

Rated: PG

~Hey Alice, is it greener here Or does it seem like dirt? Does it feel the same, can you say that you Are happy to be home?

The rabbit seems to call your name You're late, so it's time to move Oh Alice, you know it's your fate Tick, tock. No time to lose

Hey Alice, time is running short This can't take too long Make a choice now. On which side of the door Do you feel you belong?~

Did I know it was a bad idea?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Did I do it anyway?

Yup.

Was I going to regret it?

Yeah, probably.

Did that thought stop me?

Absolutely not.

I was going with Jack. I was going to leave that freezing nothing-in-nowhere place behind me and I was going to be free. With the Winchesters protecting me, I would never have to be afraid of anything ever again.

At least until they found out the truth. But I could keep them fooled for long enough, right? I mean, Jack seemed to like me. I wasn't sure in what way exactly, but he did seem to like me. That was something wasn't it? It had to be.

Me and Jack just sat and talked while Sam and Dean burned the bones and covered the body back up. The only reason I knew the body was there was because I had found this place three years ago, though as to the corpse's identity I had no clue. I was just making crap up.

When the job was finally done it was around midnight and the hunters wanted to go back to their motel. They also wanted me to come with them.

"But where would you sleep?" I argued.

"Oh, I don't sleep that much." Jack simply shrugged. I chewed on my lip, for every excuse I could come up with, Jack had a solution.

"Look Jack, I've spent a long time here and I've got, like, this 'secret hideout' where I always sleep- er, slept, and I just wanna go back there, collect my stuff and say goodbye, ya’ know? I'll meet you outside your motel bright and early tomorrow morning. Alright?" Maybe the slight truth would work where excuses had failed miserably. Jack sighed.

"You promise you'll come?" He asked.

"Cross my heart," I said, doing the motion.

"Good cause' if you don't show, Cas will know where you went," Sam said, his voice was friendly but it sounded like a threat. I guessed he was suspicious. Sam got in the car.

"That is true," Castiel said, following him. Yeah, they were both suspicious of me.

"Oh. Uh, nice." There went all hopes of running away from this. "Well where are you guys staying? Just so I know where to go," I asked.

"It’s called North Sea Motel, or something like that." Jack paused for a moment. "Uh, I think." I smiled with a shake of my head.

"I think you mean North Port Motel," I corrected him. Jack smiled.

"Yeah, that one!"

"Okay, well, I'll see ya there!" I started to dismount from where I sat, perched in a different tree, but Dean's voice stopped me.

"Say, where is this little ' secret hideout' of yours? We could drive you, just tell us where. Then you could get your stuff and come to the motel with us, you might even get a good night's sleep," Dean offered. I turned him down with a shake of my head.

"Nah, you boys get some sleep. Besides, if I told you where it was, it wouldn't be my 'secret hideout' now would it? Also, it’s not exactly accessible by car anyway, but don't worry, it’s not far." That was a lie. It was all the way across town, but I might need to use it to hide from these guys one day so telling them the location wouldn't be smart.

"Alright well, see ya’ tomorrow, kid." Dean climbed into his car and revved the engine, waiting for Jack before driving off.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow!" Jack smiled at me. His smile was sort of strange as his mouth curved up on one side and down on the other at the same time. I liked it.

"See ya’ tomorrow Jack-Jack." I winked at him from where I sat, perched in a different tree. Then in the blink of an eye, Jack was beside me, pulling me in for a hug. I was surprised but hugged him back. I took a deep, breath through my nose.

'Holy zoodles, you smell amazing!' I thought to myself. For a split second the thought entered my mind. For a split second I considered what it might be like.

But that wasn't going to win out.

I pulled away from the hug and Jack smiled his crooked smile and he disappeared, and I waved as the Black Impala drove off. I sighed.

"Whatever you're gonna say, you can go ahead and say it!" I said to the air.

No reply.

No Isaac.

Nothing.

"Ugh! You're so dramatic! If you wanna talk then talk, ya friggn' weirdo!" I shouted to no one.

Isaac still didn't appear. I hopped off my branch and began to sprint through the snowy woods at top speed. Mocking all the way.

"Oh I'm Isaac and I'm so superior to everyone and I'm a stinkin' drama queen who has to be all cryptic about my USELESS OPINIONS!"

I shouted the last bit before climbing the rope into the tree house. I had made it in under five minutes. When I hauled my sorry butt inside the tree house, Isaac stood there, waiting. He had his arms crossed and his shoulders square and his face was a mask of barely controlled rage. I copied his stance and stared back at him. He remained silent. I could only do it for so long.

"What?" I asked, giving in. Apparently that question was all it took for Isaac to explode.

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS A FRIKIN' GAME?!" He shouted. I couldn't help but stumble back a few paces. Isaac never yelled, not at me. Isaac yelled at everyone else, but never, ever, me. I blinked a few times, trying to discourage the tears.

"N-no! I-I-I just-"

"DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?!"

"NO! But I-"

"REALLY? BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE! BECAUSE THAT'S HOW YOU'RE ACTING! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" Isaac took a menacing step, and it took a lot of will to stand my ground.

"I don't know! I wasn't-"

"THAT'S RIGHT! YOU WERN'T!" I looked away, blinking furiously to dispel my tears. Isaac sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself.

"I was just trying to save our butts! I didn't think they would take it like that and try to adopt me on the spot!"

"Why didn't you just say no?!"

"Because that would have looked suspicious!"

"Then just run! They'll move on without you! They'll keep going with their lives! They don't care about you!" Isaac insisted. His words hurt. Why? Why did they hurt?!

"That's not true! They said they'd search for me!" I tried, but it was a weak response, and I knew it. Isaac laughed, it was bitter and without humor.

"What? Is it that Half-Angel freak?" He snorted. I lowered my head.

"He's not a freak," I mumbled.

"Sorry, could you say that a little louder? I couldn't hear you over all your stupidity!" Isaac sneered. My head snapped up and my teeth and fists clenched.

"Jack. Is. Not. A. Freak!" I growled. Isaac's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, you don't- No. No, you're not really-" I knew what he was asking, and I simply glared at him.

"What?"

"Do you like him?" Isaac asked, disgust prevalent in his tone. I looked at the floor, grinding my teeth.

"No."

"OH COME ON! REALLY MARTY? YOU GOT A CRUSH ON THAT FREAK-A-ZOID!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Isaac roared, "HE'S A FRIGGIN' TWO-YEAR-OLD FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" I couldn't take it anymore.

"SHUT UP ISAAC!!!" I screeched, my pitch rising with my anger. I took a deep breath and stared him in his cold, dead eyes. "If Jack is a freak then so am I!"

"No, you are what you are. That kid, if you can even call him that, is trying to be two things at once! He's more powerful then the actual angel! Couldn't you feel it? That thing could probably kill you without even trying!" I rolled my eyes, my fists clenching tighter. I could feel my nails cutting into my hands, but I didn't care.

"Jack wouldn't hurt me. He's not like other hunters, Isaac! He's not doing this out of hate!" I insisted. Isaac's face twisted into a snarl. He walked over and looked down on me.

"And when he finds out that you've been lying? What do you think he'll do then? What do you think they'll all do? Do you think they'll just shower you with hugs?" He questioned, mockingly.

"No."

"They'll never except you. Once they find out the truth, and they will find out, they'll never love you. You know why?"

"Stop." I ground out through clenched teeth.

"Because they are not your family, Marty. They never will be," Isaac hissed.

"I don't need them to be. Besides, I can always talk them into it." Isaac stepped away now and started pacing the floor of our hideout.

"But you won't. You know why? Because it will never be real. That's what you want, isn't it?" He jeered.

"I just want to be safe! I don't wanna run anymore!" I protested, even though he was right. Isaac shook his finger at me.

"No, you want it to be real. You want it so desperately, don't you? That's what this is all about, isn't it? Deep down it's all about Jack, and you know it."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Isaac," I seethed. He turned to me with a quizzical yet mocking expression.

"This little crush you have on the hybrid freak, do you really think you have a chance?" Isaac flicked his finger against my skull. "I know you're all grown up in there, but out here you're still fourteen! And you heard it right out of his mouth, he may be grown up on the outside but he's still only two-years-old! I don't care which side you look at it from, that's pedophilia either way!" I wished I could punch Isaac in the face, much more than I usually did.

"It's not like that! You can't stop me Isaac! This isn't your decision to make!" I shouted at him.

"I'm not letting you go with them. If that means murdering all of them in their beds, then so be it! I'm not going to let them hurt you!" Isaac barked.

"What is wrong with you?! This is my decision! Why do you keep trying to control my life?!" I demanded.

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO WATCH MY SISTER DIE!"

I blinked. I couldn't speak. What could I even say? We stood across from each other, the anger draining away into heartbreak.

"I just want a friend, Isaac. Is that really so wrong of me?" I demanded in a whisper. A rain of emotion was beginning to sizzle out the fire of my fury. My spectral companion stopped in his tracks.

"A friend? What am I, chopped-liver?" Isaac asked, sarcastically. Though his tone was mordant, I could sense the hurt that sapped through.

"Isaac, that's not what I meant," I tried to back-track, but it was useless. Isaac's lip curled and his eyes narrowed.

"I've spent five years stuck in the veil, not being able to talk or be seen by anybody but you. All of that just so your sorry ass wouldn't be so friggin' lonely! I put off going to heaven and this is what I get for it?! What? Am I suddenly not good enough for you anymore? Is that it?!" He spat.

"Of course not, Isaac! You're my brother! You're my best friend and you always will be!" My voice came as a stressed whisper as I strived to explain, "It's just that-"

"That what? What makes him better than me? What makes any of them better than me?! What does that Nephilim freak have that I don't, huh?" He challenged, his voice like burning acid. I couldn't take it anymore.

"YOU'RE DEAD, ISAAC!!!" I screamed, tears gushing down my face like salt-water rivers. I couldn't stop them. "YOU'RE DEAD AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" Isaac blinked, speechless. "Mom and Dad and Jackie and Bree and Jazz; they're gone! They're all gone and it's all my fault!"

"Marty-"

"No, Isaac! You're gone and I can't have you back, not for real. I can't high-five you when we laugh, I can't punch your shoulder when you're annoying me, and when I'm upset you can't wrap your arm's around me and hold me until the tears run dry! You can't do that, and I don't blame you, but you can't!" I took a deep breath and looked at the rough wooden floorboards as I tried to mop up my tear-stained cheeks, but it didn't work. All the sadness from the last five years was escaping now.

"I don't-" Isaac started but I wasn't finished just yet.

"I need someone who can do that, Isaac. It's been exactly five years, eleven months, and twenty-two days since somebody hugged me! I didn't realize how much I needed it until now, and I don't think I can go on like this any longer! Isaac, I am all alone," I lamented.

"You have me, Marty," He whispered. I hadn't realized that ghosts could get choked up.

"Isaac, you're not really here," I whispered, painfully. "I know you're all I have; but I don't have you, not really. I don't want you to go, but every single day, this figment of you reminds me that you're never coming back," I sniffed, still trying to keep it under control, but the look in Isaac's eyes made that impossible.

"Oh, Marty... I-I'm sorry." I rubbed at my eyes, wishing once again that I could lay my head on his shoulder and just cry like I wanted to, but I couldn't.

"I just want you back!" I sobbed, my ragged breaths scraping at my dry, tender throat. Isaac reached out but his arms passed right through me, just like always. I looked to him in despair before moving to sit on the mattress. "Why did you have to die?" I whispered.

"I don't know."

"Just let me go with them, Isaac. I can't do this anymore."

"If you're going then I'm coming with you. Through thick and thin, remember?"

"Through thick and thin," I agreed. Isaac smiled at me weakly.

"Well, get your stuff together, we're goin' on an adventure," He said. I nodded and strode over to the backpack in the corner. Reaching to the very bottom of the bag, I grabbed hold of the two objects I hated the most.

Two bags filled with a pint each of human blood. The label bore the name: Aspirus Keweenaw Hospital. It was the only hospital anywhere near Copper Harbor, though it was more than twenty miles away. It was a long way to go by foot but now I would never need to go again. I just hoped that wherever these hunters lived there was a hospital nearby. I weighed the bags in my hands and considered the possibility of smuggling them past the hunters. The odds were pretty bad.

"Just wondering, how do you plan to keep this a secret while under the watch of four hunters?" Isaac asked from behind me. I inhaled deeply before turning back to him.

"No idea! But as for right now―" I ripped open a small hole in one of the bags and raised it into the air the way you would raise a toast― "Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"

I think you can figure out what I did after that.

-2 hours and 56 minutes later-

I finished packing all of my belongings into my backpack and a few extra things I stuffed in my violin case. Then, I saluted the now abandoned tree house farewell and tromped off through the snow to say goodbye to the one person in this town that I actually considered a friend.

The bell dinged as I pushed open the door to the pharmacy. I smiled at the shapeshifter behind the counter and waved. Dan-the-Dope-Man, regardless of anyone's opinion about his behavior, was the closest thing to a friend as I had made in these past five years. He may not have been the best person, but I owed him a lot and now this was the only way I could repay him.

"Marty! I thought you died! When I watched you go with those hunters, I didn't know what to do! Are you okay?" There was no one else in the store, so the man with the face of a forty-year-old hopped over the counter and rushed over to me, enveloping me in a hug. In this form, he didn't have his Brooklyn accent.

"I'm fine, Danny but, uh, I gotta tell you something." Dan released me and held me at arm’s length.

"What? What's wrong?" He worried.

"Nothing's wrong," I told him, shaking my head, "But I'm leaving."

"What? Why?" Dan exclaimed.

"Those hunters, they asked me to come with them, they said they're gonna protect me." Dan's brows pulled together and he looked at me with concern.

"Marty, they're hunters. Protecting things like us, vampires and shapeshifters, isn't exactly what they do!”

"They don't know what I am, and I plan to keep it that way. But these guys, they're different. They're gonna protect me, and maybe they'll help me find Felix!" I said, gently.

"That's a dangerous game."

"Let's hope I'm good at it."

"You're really gonna do this?"

"Yeah." Dan sighed.

"Well in that case, I'm gonna miss ya, Marty." He wrapped his arms around me, and I hugged him back.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Danny!" Apparently, my eyes hadn't rid themselves of tears completely. A few salty droplets dripped down my cheeks.

"Take care of yourself, sweetie. Remember, if you ever need a place to go, my door is always open." He said, patting my back.

"Thank you, man. For everything. I owe you a lot." I wiped my cheeks and gasped a breath as I pulled away.

"Eh, don't worry about any o' that. Stay alive, Marty. That's all the payment I want," Dan smiled.

"I can do better than that," I promised, smirking.

"Whattdya' mean?"

"If any hunter ever comes to check this place out again, I'm gonna give you a head's up. Sound good?" Dan grinned.

"Sounds great, Marty." He hugged me again and when he pulled away, he had an idea.

"Before you go, here, take these," He said, grabbing several items from different shelves and stuffing them in a bag which he gave to me. I peeked into the bag, inside were several boxes of chocolate truffles, four Hershey's bars, and one of those little solar powered flowers that waves when you place it in the sun. "It's not much, but it’s something to remember me by."

"I'll savor every chocolate, Dan. I'm gonna miss ya, have an awesome life buddy!" I waved as I pushed my way out the door, "I hope you get your daughter back!"

"Thank you, Marty! Take care of yourself! I hope things get better for you!" Dan waved back and I left the pharmacy behind, muttering to myself as I walked down the street to the motel.

"I hope things get better too."

~Hey Alice, do you want to play? The Queen's great (or so it's been said) Hey Alice, can you play croquet? If you're good, you can keep your head

Hey Alice, are you here or there Or somewhere in between? Hey Alice, would you ever dare To go back through where you've been?

Hey Alice, time is running short This can't take too long Make a choice now. On which side of the door Do you feel you belong?~

Lyrics from: Hey Alice by Rachel Rose Mitchell

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foolscapper · 4 years

Text

Someplace Warmer, Someplace Safer - (How the Wild Things Start Universe)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is not edited/beta'd, so please forgive any rough spots! I'll be cleaning it up and posting it on ao3 at a later time! This also takes place after How the Wild Things Start, and is based on a request sent in by @saintedjack -- thank you!

WARNINGS: PTSD responses, MENTION OF CHILD ABUSE (SEXUAL), please tread carefully if that's hard for you!

In the year of our Lord 2020, Sam Winchester didn't think that Christmas would feel so much less... sore of a spot. Maybe that's because he's practiced a handful of Christmases with Leia and Lilly now and has realized with some clarity that holidays can sometimes be about as good as the number of kids who get excited over it. When it was just him and Dean, it was a coupla beers and memories of little kids who sat in hotel rooms waiting for their parent — singular. Now Lilly is coloring pictures of reindeer and eagerly reminding Dean of what she wants for the hundredth time. ("Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean grumbles, without even the smallest bit of heat to it, "How could I forget when you drew it on my bedroom wall?") Meanwhile, Leia's fourteen, so the appeal of a 'Santa Claus' isn't really there for her; she and Sam are too alike on that front, having lost whatever magic Christmas would've had when they were very little. But she loves that Lilly loves it. She helps her hang up tinsel and all those basic holiday ornaments around the bunker. When Sam and Dean are out to get the kitsune her dietary needs, she prays to Castiel, makes him trek all the way to Lebanon — just so she can ask him to drive her to the rental box in front of the liquor store for holiday films. Anyway, uh. Sam feels... good. He feels good about it. About Christmas.

First time in forever, he knows, but things evolve over time, right?

Whatever makes them happy makes him happy, and it doesn't help that Dean's starting to get into a bit of a frantic holiday mood himself when he realizes Cas and Leia rented National Lampoon's Holiday Vacation. With one girl on either side of him, his brother chatters on and on about classics, movies like A Christmas Story and the Grinch, and Sam can only roll his eyes in good humor and sound fondness. It's a good day. He hasn't had a nightmare in days — hasn't slept-walked in almost as long (not that it stops Dean from keeping the front door locked, so Sam can't wander out again and scare the shit out of them). It's the day before Christmas, though, and there's plenty of cereal, boxed mac 'n cheese and canned Chef Boyardee, but absolutely nothing that rightfully belongs on a dinner table for the holidays. "I'll be back; just gonna pick up some stuff," he says, while the three are in the middle of Mr. Grinch, you're a bad banana, Mr. Grinch, with the greasy black peel-. Dean snaps out of the trance that had made him 10-years-old for a moment and looks critically at Sam; Lilly doesn't look away from the television, but Leia's sharp gaze shoots to Sam at the same time as Dean's. Dean says, "You sure you don't want us to go, too?" And Sam waves it off. Waves both of them off, since Leia's trying so hard to judge him under her bangs "I'll be fine. Just hitting the grocery for something that works for tomorrow. Please try not to feed them straight sugar while I'm gone?" "Yes, honey," Dean huffs, but there's some hesitance in the way he turns to look back at the TV. He couldn't really blame him, considering what shitty lucky they had apart. Or, well... considering the guilt that still festers in Dean like old, greenish wounds. Sam knows it's there every time his brother glances at pale scars intersecting on his arms, or when he manages to rouse him from a bad dream, or when Sam spaces out at the dinner table until something startles him to attention. Sam's screwed up, and Dean's still gnawing at his own leg for letting it happen. ... Shit happens. Sam tries not to think about it anymore than he has to, because it's not like the muscle memory ever goes away, nor those phantom smells or those reels of the monster rings. No, no, he's not going to think about it. Because today's a good day. It's a good week. He takes the keys to the truck he's kept to himself, makes a mental note to call Castiel and see if he'll stop by for visiting. The air outside is cold and bitterly unfair to the lungs, but he tugs his jacket tighter around himself and wills the old truck AC to start heating him back up. The drive isn't far, and the people at the place he's driving to know him well enough. He's not sure if that's a good or bad thing, especially now that they see him changed so drastically; he's pretty sure Dean just tells them all he'd gotten deployed somewhere and ended up hurt, or something. Sam doesn't bother figuring out the cover story, because he's not ever going to be in the mood to talk about it with Joey Behind the Counter or Leticia Stocking the Shelves, no matter how much he likes them. The bell to the store rings, they wave him in, ask him about his plans for the holidays, tell him all about their kids — he surprises himself by talking about his own, albeit vaguely, because you never know who is truly safe. And even though he has little to no skill in hearty, holiday feasts, he knows the basics from television: cranberry sauce, turkey, stuffing, eggnog, so on and so on. Despite his complaint to Dean not to overfeed the kids on sweets, he ends up grabbing two boxes of themed cookies, too. It's not until he walks out the front door that he feels something's off. He'd never claim to still have the powers he did at age 22, but — the hairs on his neck stand up, goosebumps running along his arms beneath his thick coat. It's hard to say what even caused it; there's nobody around. He glances uneasily left and right, and then makes a slow, cautious walk toward the parking around the corner. His heart thumps in his chest and his mind plays cruel games with him: what if it's a hunter coming for him? Looking for him and his family, after what happened at their old cabin? It hasn't been that long. "Hello," a little, polite voice chirps from seemingly out of nowhere. Sam nearly leaps out of his skin, teeth snapping together as he turns in a fraction of a second — ready to fight, dropping his grocery bags as his hand reaches around the back of him. (Bright lights, feral howls of pain, blood on dirt and black eyed spectators-) His breath catches at the startled teenager with sandy-blonde hair standing in front of him. He's dressed in clothes he's clearly worn for a long time, the knitting on his gloves and cap frayed. The smell of an alleyway greets Sam belatedly, and shame creeps into his face when he realizes just what he's actually looking at here: some homeless kid whose smile has faded into a look of uncertainty. Wanted a buck, but ended up with some over-sized freak having an episode at him. "S—sorry," Sam chokes out. He's trying not to let himself get pulled under, but the lights have... always been so bright. The kid seems appeased by the way Sam steps back, though, and moves to rather calmly start collecting the fallen goods from the ground; for a moment, Sam wonders if he's just gonna take them for the trouble, but the boy starts putting them back into the brown paper bags they'd come in. "It's fine. I must be scarier than I thought." It's said in such an easy way, and he looks up with a kind, gap-toothed smile. "I was going to ask if you could spare some money, but I can see now that I should have made my presence more obvious." ... That's a way for a teenaged boy to put it. It reminds Sam of a particular angel of Thursday and his straightforward, over-complicated way of talk. With a somewhat forced smile, he bends down to quickly collect what the kid hasn't. "No, no, I'm — I'm good at being on edge. It wasn't you. Sorry for... that." He's not sure how to put it. He has a hard time remembering how to talk to people, sometimes. There's something particularly distracting about this one, though. Maybe it's the fact that he's so youthful, covered in dirt and red in the nose. Looks at him like how Leia had — with the hope that Sam can help him. Or is he just projecting? He pinches the bridge of his nose, smiling tiredly. "What's your name, kid?" The boy says, almost proudly, "Jack." "... Um, well. Jack. I'm Sam. It's good to meet you. I think you deserve something nice for not thinking I'm a total weirdo, so... if you wanna carry a bag to the truck for me, I've got some cookies and dollars to offer you?" It feels kind of demeaning in a way, like he's giving the poor kid some basic task to 'earn' what Sam'll give him. But Jack just nods and walks along side him. "Thanks, Sam," Jack says. He says Sam's name like he's testing out the weight of it, forming it carefully in his mouth. Despite Jack's appearance, he radiates something... well, something. It's warmer than the weather. "Where are you from, Jack?" Sam asks, tilting his chin forward to look down. His voice is softer, more careful. "From everywhere," Jack says, and looks over at Sam. "I honestly don't know. I've just always been... like this." "... Homeless?" Sam offers. Jack cocks his head to the side, gazing ahead of them. "Homeless. Yes." It's not a long walk, so it's not like there's much more to talk about before they reach the old truck. They load up the groceries, and Sam provides one box of cookies (in this case, the box that is less crushed from falling on the asphalt). It feels like a meager kind of offering, all things considered. "Here — I mean, if you like sweets. I bought way too many, so... Um. And — " "I like cookies," Jack says as a matter-of-factly. "Thank you, Sam." Doesn't feel good enough, though. Sam gnaws his lip and feels... some sort of way about all this. Like he's doing something the wrong way, here. Leia and Lilly have ruined him for life. "Where are you heading, anyway? Do you live in town? I've never seen you here before." Jack's already got the box of cookies wrenched open, and he's eating them too fast, a lot like how Sam used to eat his rations when he lived in a cage, in the dark. Sam's already predicting that he's gonna get sick, and he can't really hide the wince as the crumbs start to collect on Jack's old jacket. Jack looks like he's unsure how to answer, not for the first time. "I'm just moving around. I have nowhere to be, as long as it's — " He struggles for the right word. "Safe." "Safe," Sam says. Jack nods with a mouthful. "Shafe," he says. Sams hands twitch nervously at the thought of sending the boy away with his 'rewards'. Whatever the hell cookies constitute as, anyway. It's not safe out there, that's for sure. It's gonna be below freezing for a while in Lebanon, and — He sighs softly. No... No, it's not smart. Not smart to being a stray into a house full of supernatural lore books, weapons, monster children. He would freak out. He'd panic and he'd know where they live, and he could tell anyone with an ear open about where a guy named Sam lives with his odd little family. But... "You want me to drive you somewhere? I mean, there should be a homeless shelter around here somewhere, if you need somewhere a little less... this." He gestures to the world around them, swathed in a fine layer of snow. Jack seems mildly uncertain, a crooked line of uncertainty to his lips. Sam recognizes maybe he looks like he's one-half a serial killer in his plaid, with his weird flinching and nervousness. "You don't have to, but... I don't want you to freeze out here." After a moment, Jack does seem to relent; nobody likes to be cold, and Sam could tell even if he was handling it well, it was not a pleasant experience he wants to endure any longer than he has to. So he nods at last, and Sam nods to the passenger seat. "Climb aboard, then. I think I remember the street and everything; you'll be warm in no time. And, uh. We can get you something better than cookies, actually." "I don't know what can be better than cookies," Jack replies, sliding into the passenger seat, "But I'm willing to consider it." The truck stutters to life, and Sam makes a beeline for the nearest Taco Bell there is. Cheap, but you get a hell of a lot with a little; he and Dean were no stranger to that particular drive-thru back in the day, when Dean was too tired to eat expired food and Sam was too tired to go buy himself a decent salad and sandwich. The Helping Hands Homeless Shelter is a good distance, so Sam learns a few things in-between Jack scarfing down burritos and soft tacos: he's fourteen or fifteen (he thinks?; Sam's mortified by the thought of him being on his own all this time), his mother died when he was born, he's not sure where his father is, and he's always been moving. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts, nobody that he's familiar with. Once the last wrapper is thrown on the floorboard as designated, though, Jack looks uneasy. "... Is this 'a trade'?" Sam glances over, brow furrowed. "A what?" "A trade," Jack reaffirms, and his eyes — glance down, towards Sam's crotch. Sam feels like he's going to puke, his stomach twisting and heart lurching. He almost slams on the brakes then and there, in the middle of the street, but he manages to avoid doing anything so fucking stupid as to scare the kid. Sam and Dean have both had their fair share of close calls growing up — Sam's had to scream at peeping toms through hotel windows, or weird men at gas stations who keep sizing them up while they read magazines, or — But. But they both had rules, and Dean always had an extra eye out on him. The thought of — the implication of it, it makes his blood boil, rushing in his ears. He thinks of Lilly and Leia and — Sam's been quiet too long. So Jack speaks up again. "It's alright. I don't do anything if they don't ask first. If they don't have something to give me," Jack says, confidently, and Sam wants to scream. "No," Sam manages, voice tight. "No, that's not okay. Anyone who asks something like that, they're monsters, do you understand me? They're evil, and you shouldn't trust them. Not for a second." Jack leans back more comfortably in his seat, confused — but glad. Sam's hands are itching for a blade and someone to hunt. A monster in a ring to rip into. He breathes out instead and looks at the road. It doesn't take long before Jack finds himself tired of the quiet, though, and his gaze moves to Sam's wrists, instead. His hands. The sliver of arm that peaks out under his sleeve. "What happened to your hands?" he asks, innocently. Concerned. Sam's shoulders sag, like the kid has gone and popped that balloon full of rage. "... Monsters hurt me, too," he says weakly, because he figures the kid deserves the truth. "A different kind of monster, but monsters all the same." Jack reaches over, and Sam startles at the hand cupping over his damaged knuckles. "I'm sorry," Jack says. "About the monsters." Sam kind of wants to cry, honestly. "Me, too." He was supposed to get a Christmas dinner, in and out of the store, nothing more to it. He was supposed to just give the kid some money and maybe a snack. He's supposed to just drop him off somewhere a little warmer and safer. (Leia looked at him like a hero, once, like he was going to swoop in and save her; Jack isn't looking at him like that, though; he's just a guy giving him a ride and cookies). Sam's phone rings. He doesn't need to look to know it'll say DEAN in white letters on the screen. Just a minute 'til they get to the shelter. (You're not a hero, you barely managed to protect your girls, he reminds himself.) "Sam?" Jack asks. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. (But Leia looks at him like he’s a superhero. A shaking, high, rabid superhero, hopped up on demon blood, with hands so tense and locked, they look like claws in the darkness. And beside her — a crying boy, a few years younger than her. There’s a burn on his leg, a shake of his shoulders. Worst of all, there’s skin sloughed off around him, and it’s only then that Sam realizes the boy looks different than he had an hour before. A shifter? A small, scared shifter. Like Glenda had been.) He pulls over on the side of the road. Reaches into his jacket pocket, retrieves the phone with a shaking hand. When he answers Dean and hears his brother asking nervously what's taking him so long, he can't help but look at Jack. Jack, who is looking at him with an uneasy amount of trust. How he has it, Sam's not fucking sure, but he feels like he has to do this. (He thinks of two little girls, holding hands as they watch Christmas cartoons.) "I — I'm bringing someone back with me," he manages. "His name is Jack, and he — needs a place to stay, for a little while." He does a u-turn, driving toward the bunker as snow begins to fall once again, soft, delicate. Jack looked awed, still looks awed. He looks at Sam like this was destiny. Fate. Something. "I thought so." "... You thought what?" Jack smiles slowly with that warm, gap-toothed smile. "That something about you, it felt like an angel."

#spn #supernatural #spn fanfiction #sam winchester #jack kline #dean winchester #cw child abuse mention #cw csa mention #cw ptsd descriptions #how the wild things start #myspnfanfic

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rowesam · 3 years

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'give me a character' cas pls tnx <3 (maybe specifically endverse cas to make it more fun)

How I feel about this character : i love it when its busy at supernatural and he gets mean, hes wonderful he deserves everything, ect ect, misha sat on a bed in a gay way in 2009 and fucking built his career around that one act. I'm a sam girl through and through but truly he is a Defining Character

All the people I ship romantically with this character : its. its dean who else would it be. well s6 crowley also. and benny in purgatory in a sandwich kinda way. ive come around megcas since i was 14 too and now i think it was a fun relationship (read: i think they are hot)

My non-romantic OTP for this character : i get that the popular/basic answer would be sam but like. they really dont get much in the way of interactions lol. I WISH they had a deep relationship but almost every time jared and misha interact on screen theres just. nothing. like the polar opposite of one of these cute 'unlikely animal friendship' videos I like him with crowley in the later seasons im obsessed with their dynamics. I like him with jack. I dont think he has a lot of friends tbh

My unpopular opinion about this character: i think cas being dad like with claire is cute and all but i dont think its 'right' i like it when their relationship is pretty much fucked and theres not much he can do about it. OH also im so tired of the bees thing. There was ONE joke about bees and now its all 'cas is obsessed with bees its his favorite creation ever' its cute and all (and im definitly guilty of it too krkr) but im sooo bored of it by now

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon : i'm really gonna shock you now. i hope you're ready for this world shattering never seen before take. I think the gay angel should have gotten to kiss dean and hold his hand and build a future with him theres a bunch of other things tho lol, i wish he adressed his shared possession trauma with sam, i wish there were more episodes focusing on him...I think it's very funny that they keep having bad justification as to why cas isnt in episodes but like. what if he got to really be a main character at the same level as sam and dean uh. what then and quick answers for endverse >:))

How I feel about this character : litteraly why is he so hot in this ep. I guess its the nonchalance. insane

All the people I ship romantically with this character : dean but in a real horny way this time

My non-romantic OTP for this character : myself i would love to kick it with this weirdo, smoke his weed, get in on the orgies whatever im down

My unpopular opinion about this character : idk im just thinking about that part where future dean cuffs 2009 dean now. what an ep. also isnt it funny that this au episode is still so talked about, and then they based an entire season around another post apocaliptic alternate universe and no one gives a shit. bc its bad. i just think its funny how that turned out

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon : for real they were such bastards for making him fuck but ONLY with women, the "what? i like past you", he was making out with dean every hour of the day and i just KNOW it

#spn #THANKS ANA i fucking love rambling abt bullshit on tumblr uh #i remember a conversation we had years ago #where i was saying 'oh im not rlly attracted to the guys on spn bc theyre way too old for me so i dont see myself fucking them'#'ew even'#and u were like 'lmao cant relate'#so anyway ive been watching season 1 and guess i grew up #a big part of the appeal is that these dudes r hot tbh

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wanderingcas · 5 years

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5 times Dean had work to do, and the one time he actually enjoyed it. pairing: dean/cas a commission for @jensenackhles <3 2k words

One

Dean first heard the phrase a few weeks after his mom died.

John had checked them into a motel—one of the many that they had cycled through in the past few weeks. Sam was asleep in the crib, and John was on the opposite bed. Dean had woken up to a strange sound; he rolled over and saw John at the foot of the bed, head bowed, shoulders shaking.

Dean had never seen his dad cry before. Even right after the fire, when he was telling the detectives what happened at the police station: completely dry-eyed. So seeing his dad cry was… strange. Dean wanted to make it stop.

He pushed back the sheets and hopped off the bed. Walking on unsteady, sleepy toddler legs to his dad, he put either hand on John’s knees, looking up at him. John was clutching a worn picture of Mary between his fingers.

“Are you okay, dad?” Dean asked.

John continued to stare at the picture of Mary’s smiling face. After a moment, he sniffed. Wiped his face that was striped with tears with the back of his hand. He ruffled Dean’s hair and said gruffly, “Yeah, kid. I’m fine. Get back to sleep, okay? We got work to do in the morning.”

And the next morning in the car, when Sam was crying in his carseat and kicking up a storm, Dean patted his head and said, “It’s okay, Sammy, shh. Stop crying. We got work to do, okay? So you can’t cry. We got to work.”

Sam just stared at him with big teary and trusting eyes. Dean didn’t even know what he was really saying at the time; what he was getting them into.

Two

He didn’t make it a habit to say the words out loud often. He said them more to himself, as a mantra to keep himself on track. But sometimes they would slip out, when he really needed to orient himself: when he really needed to kick his own ass into gear and push down the emotions.

The second time he remembers saying it was when he was 25. He was driving to a case with Danny, the son of one of John’s hunting friends. John was out of commission from a nasty encounter with a wendigo, so they were tag-teaming the ghoul hunt.

Dean felt his phone buzz, wedged between the driver’s seat and his leg. He pulled it up, glancing at it, just in case it was important. His stomach immediately sank when he saw Sam’s number.

Got to Stanford okay, in case you were wondering. Too hot here. Miss you and Dad.

The muscles in Dean’s jaw jumped as he clenched it tighter.

“Who’s that?” Danny asked, cocking his shotgun. “Somethin’ about the case?”

“No,” Dean said. He pulled into the driveway of the house where the hauntings were taking place. Eased the Impala into park. “Focus up,” he commanded, cocking his own gun aggressively. “We got work to do.”

Three

The seal to the gates of hell are open. Ruby tricked them, and Sam triggered the apocalypse.

Dean doesn’t know what to say.

History is repeated again, where Dean is sitting helplessly on one hotel bed, Sam crying on the other. He’s bent at the waist, shoulders hunched, tears silently streaming.

Dean knows that he’ll blame himself forever. He knows that this might break him.

He knows he needs to say something.

Getting up unsteadily, he walks over to the bed and sits down on the other side of his brother. The bed creaks from his weight. “C’mon, Sam,” he says into the silence. “We didn’t know, okay? We couldn’t have seen it coming.”

Sam remains silent, glaring at the ground.

A lead in his gut, Dean reaches out a hand, and places it on Sam’s shoulder. “We gotta keep going, okay? We just… we gotta keep fighting. We can’t just sit down and take it.”

“What’s the point, Dean?” Sam asks. He shrugs off Dean’s shoulder and twists around to glare at him. “Why even try, if I keep fucking everything up? Huh?”

“Because people need us, Sam,” Dean snaps. “We need to finish what we started. We gotta make sure the world is safe, okay? There’s no time to sit around and feel sorry for our damn selves.”

Sam stares at his hands, stonily silent.

Dean stands. Holds out a hand to his younger brother. “C’mon. We got work to do.”

Sam glares at Dean’s hand for a moment before sighing resignedly. He takes it, and stands.

Four

When Dean met Cas, a lot changed.

His view on angels not so much: he still thinks they’re a bunch of dicks. But the way that things aren’t always so black and white. That people—angels—can change. That Dean can maybe be… loved. Saved. Worthy of it.

At least Cas seems to think he’s worth it, anyway.

He tucks all these feelings into his back pocket; doesn’t want them to see the light of day. Because if they did… well. Then he would have more than his brother to be worried about. And in his line of work, any attachments are frankly a terrible decision.

Except, it’s Cas, and Dean can’t keep his eyes off him.

And he stares at Cas a lot. He knows he does; it’s almost like there’s a magnet that pulls his eyes to Cas’s face and stays there. Sam notices it; Cas notices it; everyone notices it. Dean just… can’t seem to help it.

Maybe it’s that otherworldly look that he always has on his face. Maybe it’s the perpetual five o’clock shadow that paints his sharp jaw. Maybe it’s because Cas is usually staring right back at him, all up in Dean’s personal space no matter how much Dean complains about it (even though he really doesn’t mind. Not at all. He’d love to have Cas even closer, actually).

Maybe it’s just because Dean has a damn crush on an angel and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

“So, you’re sweet on my brother, huh?” Gabriel asks Dean with a leering grin.

Dean snaps his eyes back into the room instead of watching Cas’s back leave the room. “What the fuck? No.”

Across the room, Sam puts a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. Dean wants to punch him so that he’ll finally respect his damn elders.

“Liar,” Gabriel says.

“C’mon, that weirdo? In a trenchcoat? What are you smoking?”

“He has a… jeno se qua,” Gabriel says with a wave of his hand in the air. “A certain sexiness, if you will.”

“I’m not sweet on him.” Dean can feel the blood rising in his cheeks, and he hates it.

“Sure, Dean-o.” Gabriel winks. “Sure.”

Cas walks back into the roomthen , looking adorably confused, and of course Dean’s blush increases. He tries to look casual as he leans against the wall with a glare, avoiding Cas’s eyes.

Sam sputters as he tries not to laugh at Gabriel batting his eyelashes in Cas’s direction.

“Okay, knock it off, you idiots,” Dean snaps. “We got work to do.”

Cas tilts his head in that adorable way, asking, “What do you want me to knock off, Dean?”

“Your pants,” says Gabriel casually.

Sam loses it then, bursting into laughter.

Five

The apocalypse is done. By some miracle, they all lived through it—Cas, Bobby, and even Sam, who managed to push Lucifer out before throwing him into the pit.

There’s no imminent danger, no immediate threat—which is probably why Sam decides to bring it up.

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?” Sam asks. They’re sitting at Bobby’s table, each nursing a beer. Sam is still exhausted from his encounter with Lucifer, so he’s not getting out to hunt much these days; they normally spend their nights like this, just soaking in the quiet before the next inevitable storm.

Dean looks at his brother incredulously. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Sam says. “I’m not an idiot, Dean. I see the way you look at him.”

Dean grumbles, sipping at his beer.

“Dean.” Sam sets his beer down. “The world is quiet. For once. The apocalypse is avoided, Michael and Lucifer are in the cage, just—there will be crap that comes up later. It can’t be avoided. But at least now, in this quiet moment, you can figure things out. With him.”

“Just leave it alone, Sam,” Dean sighs. He doesn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore. Snatching his beer off the table, he says, “Think I’m gonna finish this outside.”

He ignores Sam’s worried eyes that follow him out of the house.

Leaning against the porch railing, he sips at his beer, glaring out into the salvage yard. Something familiar catches his eye: a figure wrapped in a trench coat, head tilted back and staring up at the stars.

Dean takes a steadying pull of beer before stomping down the porch steps. He stands next to Cas, the neck of his beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingers. Cas gives him a nod of acknowledgement before looking back up at the twinkling stars above them.

Clearing his throat, Dean says gruffly, “So, you thinkin’ of going back there?”

“Back there?” Cas asks.

“To, you know.” Dean waves his beer at the sky. “To Heaven.”

“Heaven is not in the sky, Dean,” Cas chides.

“Okay, whatever. Just answer the damn question: are you going back?”

Cas lifts one shoulder in barely a shrug. He looks at Dean then, blue eyes sparkling in the night. “I might not go back—if I have a reason to stay.”

“Well, you might have one,” Dean says. “There’s plenty more shit to take care of down here. Rumor has it Raphael is pissed about you rebelling against the apocalypse, so he’ll probably stir some shit up that you have to—”

“Dean.” Cas turns to him, suddenly very serious. “Do I have a reason to stay?”

Dean can feel his breath catch in his throat. He realizes that he could lie. Could laugh it off with a joke or a snarky comment, like he usually does. But he knows it’s now or never. Cas could leave. He’d do anything to stop that.

“Dean,” Cas says again. There’s a filter of emotion that comes through to his eyes—it looks like hope. That makes Dean crack.

“Maybe you do have a reason,” Dean says. “Maybe we want you to, I don’t know—stay.” He looks at the ground. “Maybe I want you to stay.”

Cas takes Dean’s hand. Dean’s heart rate increases as Cas rubs his thumb against Dean’s calloused knuckles. “I want to stay, too.”

“Good, that’s, uh.” Dean smiles wide. Steps closer to Cas so that their chests are nearly touching. “That’s good, Cas.”

Dean asks Cas to marry him six months later on the hood of the Impala, burgers and beers between them.

He doesn’t see the point in waiting when he just…. knows. Cas seems to know too, since Dean can barely get out the question before Cas is tackling him to the hood and kissing him senseless, whispering Yes between each breath.

Sam cries when they tell him. Of course. Bobby pretends not to get emotional, but Dean sees him wiping at his face a minute later. The angels are, of course, pissed—but Cas couldn’t care less.

Apparently Cas had been planning to ask Dean from the beginning—he and Charlie had even been making a wedding scrapbook with Charlie in the past few months.

Cas pulls out the scrapbook to show Dean the next morning, both in their pajamas and sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table. His cheeks are stained from embarrassment, unsure how Dean will take it.

But Dean finds it the least embarrassing thing in the world—he just flips through the pages and pages of wedding decorations, tuxes, and rings, and gets increasingly choked up. He almost loses it when he sees the Enochian words for “Forever” inscribed on a ring that Charlie made in photoshop as a mock-up.

Dean puts down his coffee, and kisses his fiance soundly. When he pulls back, Cas is smiling, bright as the rising sun.

Shutting the book, Dean stands, and grabs Cas’s hand with a wink. “Well, Cas. Looks like we got work to do.”

#<33 #thank you so much for commissioning me!!#this was so much fun to write #destiel #destiel fic #commission #tatiana requested i share this with you all <3

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profoundnet · 4 years

Text

Profound Member Post - January 2020

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

This months round up is extra special as PB celebrated its 2 year anniversary with a creation birthday bash. You will find submissions for this monumental occasion marked with a 🎂 emoji! Happy Birthday PB and thank you to everyone who makes this server, and our corner of the fandom so great!

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR JANUARY 2020!

Featuring works by @nox-lee, @nickelkeep, @maleyah-givemetomorrow, @banshee1013, ArielAquarial, @castielslostwings, @butterflydreaming-writes-fic, @goldenraeofsun, @jemariel, @surlybobbies, @blueeyesandpie, @rauko-creates, @foxymoley, @maggiemaybe160, and, @andimeantittosting!

Masterpost below the cut.

noxlee - @nox-lee - noxlee - (Pillowfort)

Soft (E, 1.7k)

15x10 coda. Dean discovers that his new "normal" extends to his sex life as well.

Tags: coda, established relationship, mediocre sex

nickelkeep - @nickelkeep - nickelkeep

Tupelo Honey (E, 5.5k) 🎂

When one of his co-workers fall through on a photo shoot, Dean steps up to help out and cover it. Who knew that there was a such thing as a beekeeper's society? And who knew that a gorgeous blue-eyed man would be a beekeeper?

Tags: AU - Modern, Photographer!Dean, Beekeeper!Cas, Nude Photoshoot, Pinups, Cas acts like Endverse!Cas, Semi-Public Sex

Time Alone (T, 1.9k) 🎂

Dean wants some alone time with Cas. The best way to do that? Find a case and tell Sam and Jack to stay behind.

Tags: Canonverse, Casefic, Salt and Burn, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Impala Kisses.

‘Til I Found Salvation (M, 14k)

Finding your soulmate isn't hard when almost everyone has multiple soulmates; four, five even upwards of seven. It's rare to have only three soul marks and people who only have two? Sucks to be them. And the poor sons of bitches who only have one? They're the unluckiest of all. Dean Winchester knows a thing or two about being unlucky.

Tags: Canonverse, Canon Divergent, Soulmate Marks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Temp. MCD, Whump, Hurt/Comfort

Something to Talk About (T, 5.6k)

Charlie pointed up at her ear. "You don't hear that?"

"Hear what?" Dean closed his eyes and rested for a moment. He realized that music played in the background and started searching for the source immediately. "Wait, is that... Is that Zeppelin playing?

"Bunker, play 'Houses of the Holy,'" Charlie replied, a smirk on her face.

The first few haunting notes of the Zeppelin classic started playing, and Dean's head whipped around in surprise. "Where's that coming from? Did you buy one of those damned Alexa Despacito things for the bunker?"

Tags: Canonverse, AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Charlie & Sam ship Destiel, Home Automation, Domesticity in the Bunker, Pranks and Practical Jokes

Balance to the Force (E, 7.5k)

When needing their privacy in open areas, Charlie and Dean have no problem switching to an uncommon language - Sindarin, from Lord of the Rings. But when they start speaking it at Nerd Convention, does Dean bite off more than he can chew?

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, AU - ComicCons, Gratuitous Nerdiness, Polygot!Cas, Language/Accent Kink, Strangers to Lovers

Space Oddity (SFW) 🎂

Art for @maggiemaybe160‘s fic Space Oddity

Maleyah - @maleyah-givemetomorrow - Maleyah

Where the Corporeal and Poetry Meet (E, 3.6k)

Part one of a series of ficlets exploring a season 9 divergence, where Cas is brought back to the Bunker and explores his humanity with Dean. "Straddling him as they make out, Dean whispers the suggestion that night. He binds Castiel’s hands with his own tie, which spikes Castiel’s breathing. He’s sure that if he still possessed his grace, his eyes would light up the dimly lit room in pale blue. His eventual orgasm knocks the breath out of him and it takes a long time to come back down into the safe circle of Dean’s arms.

They take it from there."

Tags: Human!Cas, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Soft Dom!Dean, Soft sub!Cas, Poetry, Idiots in Love, Domestic Fluff

Where Kinks and Breakfast Meet (M, 3k)

Part two of a season 9 divergence series where Cas gets brought back to the Bunker and explores his humanity with Dean. "But he still wants to engage Cas. Fully. He’s only unwilling to put Cas at a similar risk, despite Cas’ persistent reassurances that his drop was related to the realisation that hit him mid-play. They do further research together. Into shibari. Into bondage. Into subspace. Drops. Both on the Dom and sub’s end. So he realises he suffered one in the wake of their moment and that he went about handling it the wrong way. A few days ago, Dean found a promising list, which he insisted they fill in to avoid a repeat performance. With everything they have been up to, Dean has faith (who knew?) they are compatible, but he wants clarity. He smiles at the feelings that loosens up inside his chest and huffs, rolling his eyes at himself."

Tags: Human!Cas, Kink Negotiation, Domestic Fluff, Soft Dom!Dean, Soft sub!Cas, switching implied, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester

Banshee1013 - @banshee1013 - Banshee1013

Texas Sun (M, 4k) 🎂

Ever since Cas and Dean tied the knot, they have been driving Sam *insane* with their inappropriately located and utterly spontaneous make-out suggestions. So when he finds them looking at filming locations for the movie "Tombstone" in Arizona, he suggests they take some time (and give him a break!) and road-trip it. Dean plans the route and takes the long way 'round through Texas - all the more time to spend with his angel, and show him some sights along the way.

Tags: Fluff, Road Trips, Sam Winchester is Not Amused, Honeymoon, Grinding, Canon Related, Established Relationship

ArielAquariel - ArielAquariel

Your hand in mine, we walk the miles (E, 11.5k)

With the big day finally there, Dean is more than ready to walk down that aisle and marry Cas.

Tags: Wedding Fluff, Honeymoon, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe, Castiel is Claire Novak's Parent, Fluff, Domestic Fluff

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - castielslostwings

Slide Away (E, 51k)

Since meeting and falling in love in front of the camera a decade ago, movie star Dean Winchester and his husband, celebrity photographer Castiel, have been the media’s darlings. From the outside, it truly appears as if the couple has it all: fame, fortune, fans and most of all, a profound and unshakeable bond that sees them through all the highs and lows. Behind the scenes, everything is not as it seems. Beyond carefully-curated sets of photos and filters, Dean and Castiel have been falling apart for years. Their marriage is essentially over, the latest victim in Hollywood’s merciless grinder. As a last-ditch effort to punch out some positive PR before news of their split breaks, the boys agree to do one last PR stunt—a recreation of the photos that made the world fall in love with them (while they were falling for each other). Will this plan drive their relationship over the edge permanently? Or will Dean and Castiel finally realize that their fans aren’t the only ones who have been fooled by all the smoke and mirrors? Misunderstandings, miscommunication, and mistrust are only the beginning. But if our heroes can push past those mistakes, perhaps they can learn that it's never too late to start all over again.

Tags: Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, Fake Relationship, Idiots back to lovers, Movie Star Dean, Photographer Castiel, Accidental sex tape, divorce, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending.

looks_clear (chrysalisdreams) - @butterflydreaming-writes-fic - looks_clear (chrysalisdreams)

White Light // Black Water (T, 7k)

In 2019, the Baozhu, a pearl that granted the desire of Dean’s heart, changed the timeline from a particular moment in 2003. Dean is hunting alone when events set in motion before that year catch up to him.

Tags: Drowning, Temporary Character Death, Car Accidents, Baby Gets Hurt, Time Travel, Episode Related, Episode S8e12: As Time Goes By, Episode S14e300: Lebanon, Kale!Sam, Alternate Angel Lore

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun

Dean Winchester and the Patron Saint of Blind Dates (T, 18k)

Dean Winchester's friends are a bunch of traitors. So he had a bad breakup two years ago and hasn't gotten back on the horse. Their intervention - a series of blind dates - can't be the solution. But if this'll get his friends to stop, Dean can choke down over-priced spaghetti, make forced conversation, and drink whatever random cocktail the weirdo behind the bar makes for him next. At least Cas has Dean's back. One word from Dean, and he'll make excuses for Dean to bail like a super awkward knight in shining armor.

Tags: Human AU, Bartender Cas, Dean has self-worth issues, minor angst, Benny & Dean friendship, minor Sam/Ruby

jemariel - @jemariel - jemariel

Spit-Polish and Shine (E, 1.5k) 🎂

You know how Dean Winchester doesn't wear shorts? Well. Sometimes he does. Unredeemed filthy porn on a car. Prompted by a PB botstat.

Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex on a Car, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Sam Winchester is Scarred For Life

surlybobbies - @surlybobbies - surlybobbies

I Like the Sound of That (T, 1k)

In mid-December, Gabe hangs a sprig of mistletoe in Cas’s foyer. Cas, resisting the temptation to strangle his brother, snaps a picture and sends it to Dean. Take it down or leave it up? Idk dude. U trying to catch someone under there? Cas hedges. I don’t want to kiss anyone who’d only do it because of a plant. Fair enough. Just leave it up tho. U’ll break an ankle climbing up ur rickety ladder. Dw u don’t have to kiss me Cas puts his phone down and doesn’t reply. He indulges in two glasses of wine and valiantly tries to avoid thinking about kissing Dean.

Tags: friends to lovers, christmas fic, fluff, mistletoe, au

Lucky Enough (T, 2.5k)

Dean opened his mouth, ready to argue, but then closed it just as suddenly, deflating. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Cas, I don’t mean to be a dick.” “Then stop being one,” Cas said simply, adjusting the blankets around Dean a little more securely. There was a pause. Dean blinked. “You’re supposed to say that I wasn’t being a dick in the first place.” “I dislike lying to you.” Dean scowled. “Why am I your friend?” “Because I spend my holidays looking after you when you’re sick,” Cas said matter-of-factly, reaching out to touch Dean’s forehead. [Dean's sick over the New Year's Eve holiday, but it's fine because Cas has got a bed to share.]

Tags: holiday fic, bed sharing, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, new year's kiss, cuddling

blueeyesandpie - @blueeyesandpie - blueeyesandpie

Beginnings (SFW) 🎂

The door to Dean's room in the Bunker, with Cas's tie on the doorknob

Tags: the bunker, pb100, we all know what's happening in there

In the California Sun (SFW)

A commissioned painting for Slide Away of Dean and Cas standing in a pool.

Tags: slide away, commissions, the tension amirite

Commission for Slide Away (SFW)

A commission for Slide Away of Cas running into Dean's arms along a corridor lined with photos of their rekindled romance.

Tags: commission, yay they happy

The Kiss Cam (E, 8k) 🎂

Dean's excited about the tickets he got for the OSU/UofM football match, but his boyfriend Crowley seems intent on ruining the day (and possibly his life) for him. When the kiss cam settles on them and Crowley pushes Dean away, a blue-eyed man they'd met in line is more than happy to fill the void. Loosely based on the headline/prompt "Woman Kisses Man Next to Her on Kiss Cam After Date Snubs Her."

Tags: manipulative crowley, non-explicit dean/crowley, minor sabriel, strangers to lovers, angst and fluff and e-rated shenanigans, NOT a sports story, pb birthday bash, collaboration

Say It Straight (T, 1.7k) 🎂

Something went wrong in that milk run to Kentucky, but neither Dean nor Cas want to explain what happened. When the truth does come out, it isn't at all what Sam expected...though really, why should he be surprised?

Tags: PoV: Sam Winchester, Sam ships it, Idiots to Lovers, Canonverse, drinking to cope, PB Bot Prompts, first time, no spoilers past season 13

rauko-creates - @rauko-creates - FeaRauko

Sing Love (T, 2.7k)

Castiel comes back from a grocery run with Sam and overhears Dean singing in the shower. ***or*** That one where Castiel finds out that Dean might love him too.

Tags: canonverse, singing, idiots in love, first kiss, fluff, some angst, love confessions

foxymoley - @foxymoley - foxymoley

Hell’s Companion (G, 350 words)

This is for saltnhalo's birthday!

It's hard to write for someone so talented but I scoured PB for any prompts she had shown an interest in and apparently she 'needed this'! Lol So here we are!

Prompt by Sky: You’ve heard of witch!cas and familiar!dean now consider this upgrade to demon!cas and hellhound!dean - hellhounds, of course, having a secret human form in this au.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Demon Castiel, Hellhound Dean, non-explicit/implied torture of random unnamed demon, mention of Boy King Sam

Roll for Dragons (T, 2.8k) 🎂

Dean is offered up as a sacrifice by his corrupt hometown. Written for jdragon as part of the Profoundbond birthday bash.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Jo Harvelle, Dragons, Alternate Universe - Historical

Mithril (G, 1k) 🎂

Dean makes an interesting discovery in a bunker storeroom so he and Sam perform some experiments.

Tags: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Weapons, The Lord of the Rings References, Men of Letters, Bunker, Soft!Dean

MaggieMaybe160 - @maggiemaybe160 - MaggieMaybe160

Birthday Wishes (M, 3.5k)

Dean recalls his past birthdays before going out to celebrate his 41st.

Tags: Graphic Violence Warning. Heavy Angst. Anti-John Winchester.

Broken (M, 700 words)

Dean snaps out of a dreamlike state and found he's made a huge mistake and it's Zachariah's fault. All part of a plan to get him to say yes to Michael.

Tags: Graphic Violence Warning. Major Character Death Warning. Heavy Angst.

Demon Deals and Prayers to Angels (T, 4.5k) 🎂

Dean makes a deal with a demon so he can go back in time and change the future.

Tags: Major Character Death Warning. Heavy Angst.

Sleep Oddity (T, 1.5k) 🎂

Based on a prompt: "I just want to go home," said the astronaut. "So come home," said Ground Control. "So come home," said a voice from the stars.

Tags: Major Character Death Warning

Falling (T, 2k) 🎂

Cas remembers all of the times that Heaven was against he and Dean getting together, and the repeated times he didn't care.

Tags: Graphic Violence Warning. Happy Ending.

Memories on Display (T, 2k) 🎂

Cas is in shock after a battle and is going through memories to try to cope with loss.

Tags: Major Character Death. Grief.

andimeantittosting - @andimeantittosting - andimeantittosting

On a Breath of Snow (G, 4.5k)

Once, Castiel, Duke of Rexford, gave up the love of his life in the name of duty and honour. He has dedicated his life to raising his son Jack. Now, a fierce snowstorm brings Dean, Viscount Winchester back into his life on Christmas Eve. And as North Cove Castle's fires burn warm and festive, so do Dean and Castiel’s feelings of hope.

Tags: Regency AU, Getting back together, Christmas, Alternate history

#Profoundnet Monthly Masterpost #january masterpost #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #spn #sorry this took so long guys!#the past months have been A Lot

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schrijverr · 4 years

Text

A hunter and his angel

Dean and Cas rescue a woman from a vamp nest. For her perspective they’re the strangest duo she has ever met.

On AO3.

Ships: Dean x Cas

Warnings: Canon level of violence against vampires

~~~~~~~~`~~~

Rachel was freaking out, she had been held hostage by maniacs for days and she wasn’t sure the maniacs were even human. They called themselves vampires and she had seen the fangs as they fed on her, but really, vampires? That would shake her world view a bit too much to think about right now.

But back to why she was freaking out, besides the vampires and the kidnapping of course. She was freaking out because two guys had just burst into the room and started hacking the shit out of her attackers.

Rachel wanted them to win, to get her out, but as she was looking she was fearing more and more for herself.

The two men were tall, one had hazel hair and the other hair so brown it was almost black. The hazel haired one had bow legs, but he moved with grace as he was beheading the “nest”. Yes, beheading, it was disgusting with blood spewing around everywhere. The dark haired one was slightly shorter than his friend, but his piercing blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark as he swirled his blade around effortlessly.

One by one the kidnappers dropped until there were four left. Hazel had just beheaded one, but in the process he had dropped his blade and before he could pick it up the next one was on him and driving him backwards.

He looked at his partner, who had beheaded one of them with the other too far away to be an immediate threat, and yelled: “Cas, knife!”

Dark hair, Cas apparently, turned and quickly threw the knife. Without breaking eye contact with his attacker he caught it and slashed the dude’s head off.

After that, he looked around with a smug grin on his face, not seeing the last one creep up behind him. Rachel wanted to scream at him, but she was gagged. He saw her distress and quickly turned around, but it was to late. The man had set his teeth into Hazel and was pushing him backwards.

“Dean” a cry pierced through the air. And Rachel distantly thought, huh, so that’s his name

Then Cas was sprinting through the room. Dean saw him coming and flashed the other a quick smile, despite the pain he must be in, before closing his eyes.

Cas had reached him and put his hand on the back of the attackers head. Rachel was just wondering what he wanted to accomplish with that when it started to glow. The man screamed in agony and fell to the ground with a loud thunk, his face turned to Rachel and she saw that his eyes were burned out.

The two men didn’t seem to care as Cas cupped Deans cheek and locked eyes with the other. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Cas hand glowed again and he pressed it against the still bleeding neck wound. When he removed his hand the wound was gone. Dean softly whispered: “Thanks, angel.”

“No problem, Dean.” Cas answered.

Then Dean broke away from him and walked over to Rachel. He squatted in front of him and she noticed the light freckles poking through the blood on his face and his beautiful green eyes. Cas came up beside him and lightly touched her forehead, somehow making her feel much better with the light touch. Dean started untying her as he said: “My name is Dean, this is Castiel. What’s yours?”

Stunned she answered: “Rachel, Rachel Dare.”

“Good job.” Dean said, taking care of the last knot, “We’re here to save you. It’s okay, just relax and we’ll get you out of here.”

Rachel nodded and answered: “What the hell just happened?”

“I’m gonna sound crazy, but vampires.” Dean said, “This nest of pesky little fuckers likes to have one feeder, so they’ll be less noticeable. Me and Cas only caught wind of them, because one of them went rogue and on a murder spree. We tracked him here, been in the forest for days, trying to find this God damned nest.”

“Don’t take my fathers name in vain, Dean.” the other piped in.

Dean rolled his eyes and said: “Yeah, yeah, whatever angel.”

Rachel chocked on her spit, connecting the comment and the pet name, and repeated: “Angel?”

“Oh, yeah. Vampires aren’t the only thing that’s new.” Dean said lightly, “Anyway, the way back to civilization is two days by foot. Are you good to walk or do you need to be carried?”

Rachel wasn’t really paying attention, because she was still trying to work through Deans comment about the supernatural. Dean seemed to notice and he said: “Just say when you’re ready to get out, okay. We’ll be over there.”

He pointed to the kitchen and moved out of view, dragging the other man along with a soft: “Just let her cope for a second, dude.”

When she looked up again, she saw Castiel and Dean dragging the bodies and heads outside and pile them up. She followed them with her eyes as they searched the house for lighter fluid and set the pile of bodies on fire. They moved in a casual manner, with an ease that scream familiarity with the actions. Rachel shivered as she thought about what that might mean for her.

When the pile was burning steadily she got of the chair and walked over to the two and asked: “Why did you do it? Come to save me, I mean?”

Both pinned her down with their gazes, but while Castiel just stared at her with confusion, Dean answered her question: “Because that’s our job. We hunt things that go bump in the night, that’s just our life.”

“You and an angel?” Rachel asked, not really convinced.

“Well, my brother as well, but this was an us trip. He was going to catalog the entire library, I mean who wants to do that in their free time?” Dean said with a fond smile on his lips.

Rachel just nodded, kind of weirded out by Dean. She turned to Castiel and asked: “Why would an angel come to back you up?”

Castiel opened his mouth for the first time since his scream, his voice was low and gravelly: “Because this idiot needs it if he wants to survive.”

“Dude, I had already twenty nine years of surviving without you, I was managing just fine.” Dean said in an offended voice.

Tiredly Castiel replied: “You were in Hell, Dean. I don’t consider that “managing just fine”.”

Dean ignored the comment as he exclaimed: “You did the air quotes right!”

That made Castiel grin with pride and Rachel was blown away by the duality of the two men in front of her. If she forgot about the blood on their faces, she could almost forget that they were chopping off heads fifteen minutes ago.

Dean and Castiel had already fallen back into casual conversation when she mentally checked back into reality. Dean took her being back into her awareness as a sign that they could get moving to get the Hell out of there.

As they walked Dean explained more about what had happened and the supernatural, he was a pleasant conversation partner and his lightheartedness kept her thoughts away from the horrors she had endured.

Castiel on the other hand was more of an enigma. He was content with being quiet and just adding some commentary where he saw fit, like cutting down on Deans descriptions of his own badass-ery and telling her something that seemed more truthful. Other than that he kept staring at Dean, with an intensity so strong that Rachel wondered how Dean couldn’t not notice or ignore it.

After an hour of walking Rachel was too tired, a combination of blood loss, lack of sleep and adrenaline wearing off putting her down. It was still light out and Dean and Castiel knew they couldn’t afford to stop, so without a complaint Castiel heaved her on his back and marched on.

Rachel awkwardly asked: “Don’t you mind carrying me, Castiel?”

“Not a problem.” Castiel replied, “And call me Cas.”

Dean now leaned into her sight with a shit eating grin and giddily said: “Angel strength, isn’t it awesome!”

After a few more miles passed beneath their feet and the sun had started setting, they decided to call it a night and set up camp. They built a small campfire and Dean pulled a bag of beef jerky out the duffel bag he had been carrying. He shared it with her, but Cas didn’t eat a bite.

Dean offered her his jacket to stay warm and Rachel protested: “I can’t take that, you saved me. I can manage a bit of cold, you can have it and stay warm.”

Dean smiled gently at her and with a nod to Cas he said: “I have my own heat source, don’t worry about me.”

Rachel raised her brows as her eyes flicked between Cas and Dean. She never would have pegged them to be that kinda guy, but it explained the staring and the cheek caressing. So, she accepted the jacket and relaxed.

Cas had made himself comfortable against a tree trunk and smiled at Dean as he settled down next to him. Dean asked: “You’re gonna be okay with being the look out?”

“I do not require sleep and I can see in the dark, I think I can manage.” Cas replied.

“Okay, just checking.” Dean said and laid down against Cas, he then complained: “Ugh, I’m all dirty and grime-y.”

“I can fix that, you know.” Cas said while raising two fingers.

Dean waved him away and said: “Dude, no. You don’t know how good it feels to shower all this shit off, besides I’m gonna get dirty again tomorrow, so it won’t matter either way.”

“If you say so.” Cas shrugged.

“I do say so.” Dean said and snuggled into Cas’s side, the angel rolled his eyes and swung his arm over Deans shoulders and carded his other hand through the short hairs, lulling the hunter to sleep.

Rachel smiled to herself throughout the interaction. These two men were so weird, first they were cutting off heads, then they were snarking at each other and arguing over little stuff, while still looking at each other like they hung the moon in the sky and now these two badasses were honest to God cuddling on the forest ground.

She might have been saved by weirdos, but they were cute adorable weirdos, who made her believe in love a bit. With a smile still on her lips she fell asleep.

The next morning she was woken by Cas shaking her shoulder. He asked her how she was feeling and she replied honestly that she was feeling much better than yesterday. Cas nodded at that, face still impassive that didn’t really change unless it was Dean, but with a kind voice he said: “That is good to hear.”

Dean fed her a bit more beef jerky and some M&Ms he had found in his bag. Then they were moving again. Dean complained that they didn’t have any coffee and Cas shot back that Dean had drank it all, so he shouldn’t complain.

The rest of the journey continued like that. Dean would make a comment, Cas would react with a mix of fond and annoyed replies or Dean would start a conversation about something random, completely out of the blue, mostly dragging Rachel into a discussion of some sort.

By the time the shadows became longer a parking lot came into view with as only occupant a big black muscle car. When Dean spotted, his face lit up and he exclaimed: “Baby! I have missed you. Are you okay?”

He checked over the car and Rachel chuckled to herself, of course Dean would love his car and talk to it. Beside her Castiel said: “You laugh, but try having to explain to him that it wasn’t your fault that someone else busted her tail light while you were out getting groceries.”

That made Rachel laugh more, which seemed to please Cas. Meanwhile Dean had concluded that there was nothing wrong with his car and ushered them all in, with Cas riding shotgun.

When they pulled onto the highway Dean said: “Cas already healed you, but if you want to get checked over we can drop you off at the hospital. Otherwise we can bring you home or to a family member.”

Rachel though about and said: “Can you drop me off at my parents place? They live a few miles from here.”

“No problem, just tell me where to go.” Dean answered.

It was quiet for a few seconds, then Rachel suddenly asked: “What do I tell anyone? Do I go to the police?”

Dean cringed at the mention of the police and said: “I’d rather you don’t go to the police. Otherwise just say you got kidnapped, but one had mercy or something. He freed you and you ran. You found the motorway and a nice couple picked you up and brought you home. You can’t really recall what they looked like, because of the shock and you don’t know what kind of car it was, just that it was black.”

Rachel raised a brow and said: “You came up with that just a bit too fast.”

Dean shrugged and said: “Lifetime of practice.”

They lapsed into silence once more and before Rachel knew it they were sitting in front of her childhood home. Dean opened her door for her, Cas right behind him. Rachel gave them both a quick hug and whispered: “Thank you for saving me. Take care of yourselves.”

Dean put his hand on her shoulder and said: “We will, you too. I know this is hard, but you lived, make the most of it.”

Both got back into the car and as Rachel walked away she could hear Dean say: “That was a job well done, I’d say. Now, how about we celebrate by taking a shower and maybe putting you angel strength to good use in there, if you know what I mean.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, but smiled. She wasn’t okay, but she was going to be. She looked over her shoulder one last time, waving goodbye at the weirdest duo she had ever met. They waved back and waited while she rang the bell, only speeding away once the door had opened and her mother had pulled Rachel inside.

#RR writing #Destiel #POV outsider #OC #dean winchester #castiel/dean #dean x castiel #castiel #cas #supernatural #SPN #spn fanfic #vampires #case fic

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