#I just want to cry and be normal and feel better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grandline-fics · 1 day ago

Text

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so that's it's own warning if you don't like reading fics featuring him. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers. Some descriptions of illness and death

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 3,907

A/N: The next part is here and we've got some soft Doffy and in denial Doffy because lets face it the man isn't going to admit his feelings so easily. I hope you all like how this chapter turned out. I think this might be the longest chapter yet. Hopefully the next one won't have as long a wait

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

——————

Once again being soulmates had yielded unforeseen benefits- for a lack of a better term- with the way Doflamingo’s touch meant your body was incapable of feeling pain from your sickness. Doflamingo watched silently as one of the doctors approached to conduct their morning observations of your condition. The doctor, highly aware of his ruler’s intense stare, flinched when they lifted your hand into their’s, already braced and expecting your expression to contort into one of pain. He only relaxed when you continued to sleep, unbothered by the touch that would have caused you to audibly cry out in pain just hours prior.

With a shaky breath, the doctor became a little braver and pressed their fingers against your wrist to measure your pulse. The night before, when they were first summoned to your chambers after being alerted to your illness this was something they couldn’t properly measure because of the extreme pain you were in. Now he and his colleagues could breathe a little easier, selfishly relieved their lives weren’t entirely endangered when it came to treating you now.

“Any change?” The doctor jumped suddenly at Doflamingo’s deep voice breaking through the unbearable, tense silence.

“Uh their heart rate is still increased as we’re expecting to be the case for now. But it’s a good sign it hasn’t worsened.” They explained, swallowing the lump in their throat. Even though he was confident in his and the abilities of his colleagues, there was just no predicting how Doflamingo would take any of their statements. He could lash out quite easily and without any remorse or hesitation simply because he wanted to or because their phrasing didn’t fit with what he wanted to hear. “This long period of uninterrupted sleep has made a clear difference. When they wake we'll attempt them with something to eat-something light like broth- and if they can stomach that we’ll begin the first round of medication.”

The seconds ticked by heavily as the doctor waited for Doflamingo to make a comment on the proposed next course of action. He knew better than to prod or say anything that could be seen as forcing a response. So the doctor could only wait and continue to check over you, gently settling your hand against your body before doing another read of your temperature, knowing to monitor your fluctuating fever and chills. Still you didn’t even so much as twitch, the doctor didn't think he’d ever get used to seeing how the power of a soulmate could defy what he knew as a medical professional. “When you’ve finished, discuss an appropriate menu with the cooks and have them begin to prepare it.”

Taking no further encouragement at his King’s finally uttered words, the doctor completed his checks and updated his notes before bowing and leaving quickly. Silently they were happy their next shift to check on your wouldn’t be until the next morning. Alone again, Doflamingo looked down at your sleeping form. With Doflamingo sitting up against the headrest, you were propped up too but sleeping soundly and unmoved since the second he pulled you into his hold. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Annoyance that he’d acted in the moment without thinking. The image of your twisted in extreme distress flashed in his head and he turned his head away to scowl, refusing to consider the implications of his actions anymore than he’d already begun to.

Thankfully you broke his attention by shifting in your sleep, a long lazy groan breaking from your lips as you stirred and forced your eyes to open. Doflamingo noted how exhausted you still looked but the sleep you’d managed to get without feeling pain had helped in some capacity. As you stared blankly in front of you the haze of sleep fell, confusion began to take over. Then panic. Sluggishly you tried to push the covers away and sit up fully. “Late…I’m late.” You croaked out, voice thick with tiredness and trembling with the infection still coursing through you. “Captain’s going…to kill me.”

Doflamingo tilted his head to the side curiously, you didn’t seem to realise he was there and from your sickly rambling it seemed you didn’t even know where you were. With how warm your skin felt he saw the spike in your fever was leaving you confused. He watched your feeble attempt to fight against the covers and listened to you mumble about morning drills for another few seconds before he acted. With ease he pulled the cover back to its original place and lean in so his chest was against your back a little more so he could tell you softly. “You’re on shore leave remember?”

At his voice you stopped and numbly nodded with a small hum of acknowledgement. Slowly you rolled over and slumped to lie down again, your back against his side and head resting on his bicep. While you weren’t conscious enough to know being in his hold prevented your body to feel pain, it seemed like your body now knew out of instinct that this was the only surefire solution for relief. Already your breathing had evened out to signal you were asleep but still Doflamingo could hear the tightened wheeze preventing you from taking calmer, deeper breaths like you normally would. Doflamingo glanced at the clock on the wall, already aware of the doctors’ routine with checking on you. The next would be arriving in twenty minutes, and if the previous doctor had obeyed his order then a servant would be bringing something for you to eat as well.

In the meantime Doflamingo used his strings to pull the morning’s paper from the table into his waiting hand. Bored and in need of something to occupy his time, he slowly leafed through the pages, taking in the reports from around the world. Some stories about skirmishes made him grin, knowing he was behind the reason both sides had so much weaponry at their disposal and the bloodshed was increasing as he’d expected it to. Other stories of other pirates causing trouble and increasing their bounties made him roll his eyes at the numbers. No doubt the weaklings thought this made them big-shots in the New World but it would only be a matter of time before they ran into someone of real power to knock them down to the harsh reality of these seas. Doflamingo turned the page and paused to see a full story dedicated to the illness you were afflicted with, claiming more lives on the island you’d caught it at. His grin lessened and the vein in his head throbbed as he read through the claims that the island’s best doctors and with the aid of neighbouring islands were administering the treatments needed but for so many it was too late.

‘The cruelty of the illness is so severe to the afflicted that they physically cannot bear to be touched long enough to be treated. Meaning that so many of those that could be saved are unable to endure help from their saviours. These poor souls are meant to spend the last days of life in constant pain while also being too weakened with internal ailments to take matters into their own hands. The only saving grace in this poor report is that thankfully the illness’ source has been dealt with and the island will not suffer more of its populace to fall victim to this calamity. The island’s ruler-thankfully one of those not infected- was quoted to say “We mourn the tragic loss of life but our island will recover.”’ Doflamingo clicked his tongue harshly and discarded the paper.

————

“Just try some please.” You screwed up your face in exhausted distaste at the bowl on the tray. Your eyes stung, even with them being half-opened felt so heavy. Even blinking felt like a massive effort and you had no energy. You just wanted to sleep but the servant and doctor in front of you kept insisting on coaxing you to eat so they could give you medicine. Your gaze dropped to the vial of dark green liquid on the tray and you felt yourself gag, already anticipating the foul taste. “Just a spoonful?”

“No thank you.” You croaked out, turning your head away slightly in case they tried to force it into your mouth. You spotted the fear in their eyes at your refusal to even take a drop of the broth made specifically for you. Even with your mind clouded with the illness you knew they were doing everything they could to avoid the stare of the man you were leaning against. You knew that the reason Doflamingo was in your bed and had your body propped against him, his arm around your waist had been explained but honestly you were too weakened and drained to have really processed what the doctor had told you. All you could really retain was because he was your soulmate and that it was somehow helping. Which only left you more confused about everything. You could feel how tense Doflamingo was, impatient and silently angry. You weren’t in the mood to deal with his tantrums and taking any frustration out on a servant and doctor so you sighed.“Just leave it to the side. I’ll try later.”

While that seemed to relieve the two in front of you, your words only brought an extra note of silent displeasure from the Warlord. If you had the power to roll your eyes you would have. Instead you blankly watched the tray get moved to your bedside table. The servant retreated to the wall closest to the door, silently waiting for permission to leave while the doctor began to check over your condition. Already you were sick of being poked, prodded, and pestered like this and fussed over so intently. “Everything is about the same from the last recordings taken. I don't think we’ll see any real change until the treatment properly begins.”

“Subtle.” You remarked dryly, feeling like a child being lectured for not eating their vegetables.

“Please try to take some before the next check.” You gave no further response to the doctor, watching him and the servant finally leave. The second the door clicked closed you felt movement behind you and glared weakly as the tray as pulled back onto the bed beside you.

“I said I’d-”

“I know what you said.” Doflamingo noted far too evenly for your liking. “I also know that you lied when you said you’d try later. You’d really hurt their feelings by lying?”

“Rather their feelings get hurt than you hurt them physically.” You uttered before breaking out into a cough. Thankfully this time you felt no pain or brought up any blood but the tightness in your chest and constant action left your wheezing and breathless. When you’d recovered you glowered at Doflamingo as he adjusted you to recline back and hold a spoon of broth out to you. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re too weak and stubborn to feed yourself.”

“No. This.” You barely managed to tap his arm around your waist. “Why insist I get better? Why help? This could kill me if we do nothing.” Doflamingo felt his jaw tighten as he fought to keep his expression unreadable to you. Thankfully your usual perception was dulled considerably and you failed to notice how your words got under his skin him and made him bristle. Instead he brought the spoon a little closer to divert your attention away from the question. Unfortunately your stubbornness and deep—seated need to defy him was still very much in tact. “Tell me.”

“Well I didn’t infect you did I?” Doflamingo asked smoothly, deciding to opt for an easier explanation for his actions, more for his own benefit than yours. “It’d be the same as having someone else kill you and that’s not going to happen. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” You grumbled as you eyed the spoon hesitantly. If you gave in and tried the broth then it meant you were doing what Doflamingo wanted. Not wanting to lose to him in the strange sense of point scoring you both had you slowly looked at him, already seeing his grin appear when he could tell you were contemplating giving in and eating. Spurned on you pursed your lips slightly. “Say please first.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Doflamingo ground out. Why did he expect that being sick would make you more agreeable. “Isn’t me holding you so you can sleep and spoon-feeding you enough?”

“You did that on your own.” You remarked with a pout, refusing to comment on how truthfully comfortable and reassured you felt against him. “You want me to eat? Say please.”

Doflamingo stared you down for what felt like an eternity. He was once a Celestial Dragon. Anything he wanted he took. Even now as Dressrosa’s king that was still the case. His every whim and wish was granted when he opened his mouth. Not once had he ever said please, or had to genuinely ask for something. Harshly he bit the inside of his mouth at the sheer absurdity of it all. Suddenly you began to cough again, this time more persistent that the previous bout that racked through your body. He glared at the sound of your worsened wheeze, no doubt because of the amount of talking and effort it was having on your body. Unwillingly he recalled the doctors telling him that your readings hadn’t changed and that your body needed the balance of rest and nutrients to even be able to fight off the infection. Just because being in his hold meant you didn’t feel pain, it didn’t free you from the infection itself still coursing through your body and getting stronger. As you caught your breath, Doflamingo gnashed his teeth together and forced out a simple but audible. “Please.”

Surprise managed to bring a small amount of light to your eyes. Quite honestly you had expected Doflamingo to force your mouth open before even letting that one little word break from his own. Still you weren’t one to go back on your word and now having the knowledge that you made the Doflamingo Donquixote say please, made the fact you had to be spoon-fed like a baby less humiliating. Taking a breath you nodded and parted your lips, accepting the food reluctantly.

For the entire process you were surprised to find Doflamingo didn’t rush you, simply waiting in silence for you to attempt the next spoonful offered. Even more surprising was that he seemed to know you’d reached your limit before you had to say so. The bowl was set aside and you let out a tired sigh of relief. Your relief was short-lived because immediately Doflamingo lifted the small vial of medicine and removed the topper and brought it closer. “You already used your ‘please’ so no absurd requests for this one.”

“It’s fine…” You mumbled, more for yourself than anything else. “I’ve had awful shots in worse bars in the past…I can do this.” Doflamingo chuckled and helped tip the contents of the vial into your mouth, watching you force it down and tense as the full taste hit you. You winced and let out a shuddering breath. It wasn’t the worst thing you’d tasted in your life but even with the doctors making a clear attempt to make the experience more tolerable for you, it was clear it was medicine and nothing to be entirely enjoyed. You gratefully took a sip of water when it was offered to you and already felt the strange numbing warmth begin to spread through you from the medicine. You shifted to get comfortable and curled up, a yawn building in your chest that didn’t feel as tight as it had just a few moments ago. “You don’ have to stay…”

“Oh? You got someone else lined up to sneak in here if I go?” Doflamingo asked with a chuckle. You’d unknowingly moved your arm over his chest at the same time you told him he could go.

“Mhm…” You nodded, mind already hazy and eyes closed. “Don’ be jealous…’kay?”

“Oh I already told you I don’t get jealous, remember?” Doflamingo smirked as you sleepily laughed and forced your eyes open to briefly look at him.

“You also never said please before. First time…for everything hm?” Your sleepy triumphant smile was so endearing that Doflamingo couldn’t even get annoyed at your reminder of your getting the upper hand over him. Even if he did, you wouldn’t have heard anything because you were promptly asleep.

———

You were completely knocked out and in the deepest sleep when the doctors came by for their next check on you. They informed Doflamingo that your response to the first dose of medication was a promising sign. They explained that they’d ensured there was a good balance to assist your immune system to fight the infection, relax your airways, regulate your temperature, manage pain relief, and protect the vital organs. Doflamingo nodded in satisfaction at the report. “My King, there is something we’d like to test while they’re sleeping.” The doctor requested glancing briefly to your sleeping form still against Doflamingo’s chest. “Can you move them out of your touch? I’d like to ensure the pain relief is correct for them? We don’t want to risk them being under or over medicated in that respect.”

Doflamingo hesitated for the briefest second but relented, settling his arms around you and shifting to pass you down to lie against the pillows and climbed out of the bed. He watched silently and hands tensed, to use his strings and stop the doctor if need be. It seemed the doctor was nervous, already remembering what almost happened to her colleague the first night they tended to you. Experimentally her hand settled against yours, sighing in relief to see your fingers twitch at the contact but you gave no other reaction. your expression was kept at its calm, relaxed state as it had been while you slept in Doflamingo’s arms. “That’s promising. My King, you can leave them while they’re sleeping now should you wish? Stretch your legs or even attend to other business. They shouldn’t wake for another few hours if our assumptions are correct.”

He nodded and offered you another glance. Immediately he felt reluctant to leave you and for that reason he forced himself to leave your quarters, needing desperately to clear his head and get away from your presence. He needed something recognisable, routine. Doflamingo headed straight for his own room and into his personal bathroom. The strong heat and stream of water from the shower helped to loosen the knots in his body and unravel some of the tension that had built in him over the course of the last few days. Between rushing home to Dressrosa from the Marine base until this moment he hadn’t let you out of his sight and had practically ignored everything else. When he was dried and changed, he made his way to the dining room, deciding to actually spend time with his family and eat while making sure to not give you a second thought, out of sheer determination to prove to himself he wasn’t in anyway concerned about you.

“Doffy what do you think?” Doflamingo blinked in the middle of the meal, only now realising that he’d been absently looking at the time on the clock. Had he been unconsciously checking how long was left until you woke? No. He couldn’t have. He was just tired, he didn’t sleep at the best of times and the shower he had and wine he was drinking was just making him sleepy.

“About what Diamanté?”

“We were just saying how funny the whole thing with that island is.” His elite officer said. “It’s further proof that you two are soulmates.”

“How so?” Doflamingo asked, not understanding how you getting sick was proof. Then again he’d not been listening to the first part of the conversation, a point no one at the table would point out. Doflamingo couldn’t help but think you would though. The second he slipped on anything, you would promptly call him out on it. Sharply he shoved that thought out of his head and focused on Diamanté who spoke, unfazed at having to no doubt repeat himself.

“Well it was just a nothing little island, with nothing little criminals storing weapons for us. None of us were meant to even go there for the hand over.” He explained with an amused smile. “If I recall right we were going to send one of the middle tier pirate crews under your command to go. You decided last minute to go. If you hadn’t then you never would have encountered them and brought them here to then be treated by the doctors for that deadly infection. It’s interesting how it all played out isn’t it?”

Interesting certainly was one way of putting it and it was something Doflamingo couldn’t help but continue to consider it after dinner. He remembered now. It was just how Diamanté reminded him. A crew similar to Bellamy’s was instructed to collect the weapons and ammunition being stored at the warehouse. Then a tip came through from one of his other Marine informants that a unit was stationed at the island, waiting to strike and interfere with the operation without knowing it was his business they were sticking their noses into. He hadn’t gotten any names or further information about you or the unit. It was the vaguest report but still, Doflamingo had immediately made the decision to go there and deal with the unit himself. At the time had it been interpreted as something to entertain him. Had he been simply bored or had fate made him go? To inadvertently save your life from the sickness that was already in your system and incubating without anyone knowing?

Harshly he rubbed his head as he walked down the halls, feeling a migraine coming on. Doflamingo reached for the doorhandles and pushed them open, stopping abruptly when he saw he’d made his way to your room instead of his own. Muttering a curse under his breath he closed the doors and stepped further inside. Silently he told himself he was only doing this until you were a little better and didn’t need the medicine. Pulling back the covers he got back into the bed and lay down beside you but knowing you were still sound asleep with the medicine in your system mean he didn’t need to touch you. Letting out a long groan, he closed his eyes and lifted his hand to press his thumb and finger against his temples.

The slight sound of shifting fabric caught his attention, signalling him that you were shifting in your sleep. Doflamingo was caught by surprise when your body pressed against him, your head tucking into the crook of his neck. He could tell you were still fast asleep, your deep breathing the clearest sign. Everything in your movements was purely instinct, including when one of your hands lifted you lay over his head, your fingers settling over the point of his headache that immediately began to subside. As he felt himself drift asleep he began to consider that it was only fair you both benefited from the affects that being soulmates brought.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa@kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu

108 notes · View notes

winchesterwild78 · 1 day ago

Text

Broken pt 4

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: grief, very light Smut, and a surprise

A/N: Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. It has angst, lots of angst to start, and infertility issues. It's going to be a short series.

Minors DNI 18+

The next week Jensen and I reconnected and my love for him deepened. I was so wrapped up in being there with him and the time we spent together I felt a little better, lighter even.

Tonight was no different than any other night we’d spent there. Jensen and I cooked dinner together. Jensen carried in enough firewood for the night and I picked a movie for us.

The opening credits started and Jensen chuckled, “Really?” I looked at him and laughed, “Yes, really. Everyone needs an Olaf in their lives.” Jensen laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Okay fine, but don’t expect me to sing.” I placed my hand on his chest and giggled, “Okay, Jens. I don’t expect you to, but I know you still will.” He smirked because he knew I was right.

When we finished the movie we went to bed. Crawling into bed Jensen pulled me close to his side. He kissed my lips softly, “Baby I love you so much.” I smiled against his lips, “I love you too, Jens.”

I bit my lip. I wanted to talk to him about trying for a baby, but I didn’t know how to start the conversation. Things have been so up in the air since my father died, I wasn’t sure if he’d be open to trying right now.

My grief was still raw, but being with Jensen, being here everything seemed perfect.

Jensen sensed something was wrong because I had gotten so quiet. “Sweetheart, you okay?” “Yeah, um, well I was thinking, and you can say no if you think it’s not a good idea. I won’t be upset, I just think, no, well I..” I just kept rambling and Jensen placed his hand on my cheek, “Honey, take a breath. What is it?”

I took a deep breath and let it out, “I think I want to try for a baby now.” Jensen leaned up, “Really?”

“Yes, daddy wouldn’t want us to put our lives on hold, and before this we were trying. So what do you say?” Jensen smiled, still holding my face, “Yes. If you’re ready, then I’m ready.” Then he placed a kiss on my lips. Soft at first and then full of want and need.

He took his time with me, exploring every inch of my body. When we both reached our final climax my body felt like it did the first time we made love. So satisfied, wanted and completely his. I drifted off to sleep feeling safe in his arms.

Around 2am Jensen woke up to the sounds of me whimpering and crying in my sleep. He tried to gently wake me up, but I didn’t wake. He sat up, turned the light on and saw the pain etched across my face as the tears fell from my closed eyes. My cries and moans broke his heart.

He grabbed my shoulders and shook, “Baby, wake up. Come on Y/N, wake up baby. You’re having a nightmare.”

I finally woke up and saw Jensen. “Shh, baby I’ve got you. It’s okay, you’re okay.” I sobbed into his chest as he held me, rubbing my head and back.

“I’m sorry, Jensen. I’m so sorry.” “No, honey. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is completely normal.”

Jensen held me close the rest of the night. I finally drifted off to sleep again, but it wasn’t restful. Jensen stayed awake holding me until the sun came up. Around dawn he drifted off to sleep once he was sure I was okay.

We both woke up around noon. Jensen went outside to gather some more firewood and I went to take a shower. When Jensen came inside he heard the shower running so he decided to get the fire going and make some lunch.

I got in the shower and let the hot water envelop my body. My muscles ached, my head hurt and my heart was still broken. I was mentally exhausted. Emotionally I was torn, my heart was broken because I missed my father, but my heart was also full of so much love for Jensen and the possibility of us having a baby.

The emotions I tried to keep inside finally broke and like a damn the tears and sobs came rushing out. The weight of the past week was finally crashing down around me. I leaned back against the cold shower tile, slid down and sobbed. Hitting the floor of the tub I pulled my legs up to my chest and held on tightly. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My body shook with the sobs and grief that I bottled up.

Jensen finished making lunch and realized I was still in the shower. He thought it was strange because I had been in there for almost 40 minutes.

Jensen walked to the bathroom door and knocked. “Honey, lunch is ready, are you okay? You’ve been in there awhile.” He listened but there was no answer. Then he heard the slightest sound, a whimper.

He opened the door and found me in the shower on the floor crying. “Y/N, baby. I’ve got you honey.” He climbed in the shower and lifted me up holding on to me. The water, now cold, ran down his clothed body as he held me in his protective embrace.

“Come on baby, let’s get you out of here.” My hands clinged to him as he held me tight.

Jensen grabbed a towel and wrapped me in it. He carried me to the bed and laid me down gently. Grabbing one of his shirts he put it on me as he put a blanket over me.

He quickly changed clothes and crawled in the bed next to me. As soon as I felt him beside me I collapsed in his arms. I felt like I was losing my mind. I was so numb and felt so hollow.

Jensen was really starting to worry about me. He had no idea how to help me, but he was determined to figure it out.

“Sweetheart, I’m here if you want to talk. Whenever you’re ready.” I just nodded. I wasn’t ready to talk yet. I just laid in his arms for a little bit longer.

Jensen’s phone rang, piercing the silence that filled the cabin. He didn’t move. I looked up at him, “Jens, go ahead and answer it.”

“No, whoever it is will leave a message and I’ll call them back.” “Jens, it could be important.” I didn’t want him to miss anything important because of me. “Please.”

He reluctantly got up and grabbed his phone. It was his mom. “It was mom.” “Call her back Jens. Please.” He nodded, “I’ll be right out here. If you need me, holler.” I nodded.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” “Hey Jensen. How’s Y/N doing?” His mom asked.

“She’s doing about as good as expected. One minute she’s okay, and the next it all comes crashing back. I don’t know how to help her.”

“Just be there for her. During the highs and the lows. Especially the lows. Hold her and remind her just how much she’s loved. She has to work through this in her time, and we have to be patient with her.”

“I am, mom. I just don’t want to push her, and I hate to see her in so much pain.” “Jensen, I know you well enough to know you’re not going to push her. You love her hard, and when it gets hard, you double down. She needs you now more than ever and she needs to know that the other man in her life isn’t going anywhere.”

“I understand. Thanks Mom. I love you.” “You’re welcome, Jensen. Now go take care of our girl. I love you too, son.”

By the time Jensen hung up with his mom I was out of the bed and walking towards the kitchen. He went through all the trouble of fixing something to eat, so I needed to eat.

We sat together at the table to eat. Jensen watched me and carefully chose his words. “Mom said hello and she loves you and if you need anything to let her know.” I nodded.

We sat in silence while eating. Jensen’s eyes flicked to mine. He saw the pain in my eyes and it broke his heart. “Thank you for eating, baby.” Again I just nodded. I couldn’t trust my voice.

My heart beat fast in my chest. “Jens, I’m scared.” My voice barely audible, almost a whisper.

Jensen stopped eating and looked up at me, “What? Why are you scared, baby?” I nervously picked at my fingers and bit my lip, “I lost my daddy, my one anchor to the world. Now I’m scared I’m going to lose you too. I can’t lose you. I wouldn’t survive that.”

Jensen stood, pulled me into his arms, and held me tightly, “Baby, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me forever. You and I are going to be with each other until we’re 100. I’m going to be chasing you around in my wheelchair and we are going to sit on the front porch swing holding hands watching the sunset.”

A small smile tugged on my lips. He always knew how to make my heart a little better. One of the things I loved about him.

“100, huh?” I asked as he smiled and nodded. He gently kissed my lips and whispered, “100”.

We finished our meal and I walked over to the large floor to ceiling window in the living room and looked out at the fresh white snow. It truly was breathtaking.

Jensen walked up behind me and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and then snaked his arms around my waist. I leaned back into him.

Jensen rested his chin on my shoulder, I could feel his hot breath on my neck and it sent a shiver down my spine.

Turning my head towards him I looked into his eyes. So beautiful and filled with so much love, it took my breath away. I turned and faced him, “Jensen, I’m so sorry I can’t move past this. You’ve been so patient with me and I feel like a damn yoyo. One minute I’m good and the next I’m on the floor sobbing.”

He cupped my face, “Baby I wouldn’t expect you to move past this. This isn’t the kind of thing in life you just get over. It’s going to take time, lots of time to be okay, and even if you’re not okay, that’s okay too. You talking about things, remembering him, hell even crying is helping you heal. You’re never going to get over this, but it will get a little easier every day.”

Placing a gentle kiss on my forehead I leaned into him more. “I love you so much, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N. We will work on this together. I’m not going anywhere.”

A few hours later Jensen and I were sitting together on the couch just talking. The conversation was mostly light. He was talking about the filming and how Karl almost accidentally broke Antony’s nose. He was excited about the new series and he was a little nervous too.

I sat listening to him and watching his face light up. When he looked down at me I saw his face falter a little. “Jens, what’s wrong?” He ran his fingers through his hair, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’ve been rambling on about stupid stuff and haven’t given you a chance to talk.”

I smiled, “I love listening to you talk about your projects. I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done and are doing. Please don’t dampen your light for me. I’m proud of you and so proud to be your wife.”

He nodded, smiled and kissed me, “I’m so proud to be your husband. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Our conversation continued and I felt myself finding a little more peace. My heart still ached for my father, but it was at peace with Jensen too. I looked over at Jensen, ready to tell him more about the turmoil inside me. “Jens, did I ever tell you my parents split for a little bit when I was a teenager?”

He looked at me with wide eyes, “No. I didn’t know that.” “Yeah, I was about 15 and I remember they got into a huge fight. Mom told dad to leave, so he, being the respectful man he was, packed up and left. My heart was broken. I barely spoke to my mom and finally decided to move in with my dad. My mom had me and Abby, and my dad had nobody. I couldn’t do that to him. Moving in with him was one of the best decisions of my life. We became super close. Dad taught me how to defend myself against “handsy boys” as he put it, he taught me how and when to plant a garden, he also taught me how to be strong. His heart was broken from the split with mom, but every day he got up, went to work and then spent the evening trying to repair the marriage. Eventually they worked it out and had a stronger marriage after, but I’ll never forget how much effort he put in even when his heart was broken.”

“Wow, sweetheart. I didn’t know that. I knew he was an incredible man, but that was amazing. I’m so glad you got to spend time with him, and that you shared that story with me.” Jensen kissed my lips softly. His hands tangled in my hair as he deepened the kiss.

We started making out like a couple of teenagers. My giggles and his chuckles filled the air. He had me laid back on the couch and he hovered over me, “God I love your laugh, Y/N. You’re so beautiful.” I bit my lip, “I love you so much, Jensen. I can’t wait to have your baby.”

He kissed my lips, “Why wait, let’s see if we can practice now.” He scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom. I giggled all the way down the hallway, “Jensen Ross, put me down.” “I will, once I get you in the room.” He laughed.

He gently put me down and started peppering kissing down my neck and to my chest. Lifting my shirt off and removing my bra he exposed my breasts. His lips and fingers touching them and teasing them.

Jensen laid me back on the bed and removed the rest of my clothes, then his. There was no urgency in the moment, just the connection of being together and in each other’s arms. Jensen’s touch was tender, like I was a porcelain doll that could break at any moment.

He made me feel loved, worshipped, wanted. Our bodies tangled with each other for a few hours. Every second a little piece of my heart healed. Laying in his arms in the stillness of the room I knew I would be okay. I drifted off into a peaceful sleep. The first one in a while and dreamed of my dad.

*Dream*

“Daddy, what are you doing here?” “Hey peanut, I just wanted to check in on you. How ya doing?” “Oh daddy, I miss you so much. It hurts.”

My dad pulled me into a hug, “Oh sweetie, I know it does, but you’re going to be just fine. You’re stronger than you think, and you’ve got yourself an amazing husband.” I nodded as the tears fell, “I know daddy. He’s been so incredible. You were right, daddy, he’s definitely a keeper.”

My dad nodded, “Hey peanut, I have something for you. I know you’re going to be great and you’re going to be okay. I want you to have this.” As my dad turned back towards me he handed me a baby wrapped in a blanket.

I looked confused, “Daddy, I don’t understand.” He kissed my forehead and looked at me and down at the baby in my arms, “Don’t worry, you will.”

Before I could ask him anything else I woke up. Jensen wasn’t beside me, and the room was dark.

I couldn’t get the dream out of my head. I got dressed and found Jensen sitting by the fire reading a book. I smiled and walked over to him, “Hey baby.” He looked up and smiled, “Hey sweetheart, how’d you sleep?” Placing a soft kiss on his lips I whispered, “Better than I have in a long time, thank you.”

The next morning after we showered and got dressed Jensen and I decided to take a trip into town. I felt better than I had in a few days, but I couldn’t shake the dream I had.

Since that dream I felt so much better, more at peace, but I didn’t tell Jensen about it. I wasn’t sure how to tell him I dreamed about my dad and right before I woke up he handed me a baby.

We went to the grocery store to grab some food and I found myself down the feminine product aisle. With everything going on I lost track of my cycle, so I grabbed some pads just in case. I glanced over and saw the pregnancy tests too. I grabbed one and tossed it in the cart with the pads.

I have no idea what possessed me to buy one, maybe it was a habit, but I don’t know.

Arriving back home I helped Jensen put away the groceries. I grabbed the bag with the pads and test in it and took it to the bathroom. I decided to go ahead and take the test, so I closed the bathroom door.

I took the test, set the timer and sat on the side of the tub. The dream replayed in my head. When the timer went off I took a deep breath, stood and walked over to the sink.

I closed my eyes, let out the breath and looked down. There it was, the results staring me back in the face. I swallowed hard and took in a shaky breath.

Tears fell from my eyes. With shaky hands I grabbed the test and looked at it again. Jensen knocked on the door and it startled me, “Babe, you okay?”

I couldn’t speak. I opened the door and he saw the tears and immediately wrapped me in a hug.

“Shh it’s okay baby. I know.” I pulled back. Even though I had tears streaming down my face I was smiling. He looked confused. “Jens, I…” I couldn’t speak. I just handed him the test. He looked at it, his green eyes flicked to mine and with a smile on his face he whispered, “Really?”

I nodded, “Yes. Jensen. We’re pregnant.”

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7 @barnes70stark

@spnaquakindgdom @djs8891

@pughsexual

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader

55 notes · View notes

supernatural-sophia · 2 days ago

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam Winchester.”

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

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

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

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

“So he really is back?”

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

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

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

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

“Shit. You called Sammy?” Dean slurred.

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

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

“Dean?” The boy asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(CH 2) ·:*¨༺ Father ༻¨*:·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A decade?” He asks.

“Sammy, get Jack.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? I just got here?” Jack whined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Sam said surprised.

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

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

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

“I need a drink,” Dean said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” Sam shrugged.

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

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

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

John sat there and surprisingly had no outbursts.

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

“And Chuck is…”

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

“Bull,” Is all he said.

“I wish,” Dean laughed.

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

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

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

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

“Eileen?” John raised an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something big happened,” Sam responded.

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

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

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

“Dad’s back.”

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

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

“Should I come back?”

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

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

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

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

“Bye, Mom.”

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

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“To talk to Dean,” John grumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you keep saying.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

“You got nothing more to say for yourself?”

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

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

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

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

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

(CH 4) ·:*¨༺ Be Nice to Me ༻¨*:·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mary-”

“Now.”

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

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

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

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

“Hey, Cas,” the angel repeated back.

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

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

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

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

“Okay, Cas. I’ll watch over you.”

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

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

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

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

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

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

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

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“Winchester Special,” John says to the bartender.

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

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

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

“And he does that?” John laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He here often?”

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

“He here every day?” the bartender nods.

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

“Sacrificing his life?” John asked.

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

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

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

“Huh,” John said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No what, Cas?” Dean asked softly.

“No. Dean’s.”

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

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

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

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

“Ohhh,” the whole table understood.

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

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

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

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

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

“Cas, come on now. Dad’s trying his best. Let him down,” Dean tried again.

“No.”

“Why, Cas?” Dean asked annoyed, standing up to move the angel.

“Protect.” John burst out laughing at the angel’s response.

“Wow, you boys have gone soft. Need a monster to protect you?” John snapped.

Dean just sighed. “Hey Cas? Look at Eileen,” Dean needed to get Cas’s attention somewhere else. Dean spelled “sign 4 me” to Eileen. She agreed with a nod. “Watch her hands Cas. John is not a danger. You can let him go. It is okay.”

Cas watched intensely as Eileen signed what Dean had just said. Cas nodded and let go of John before wandering off. Dean signed thank you, sighed heavily, and then grabbed his mug.

“I’ll go follow him. Make sure he’s not destroying another room.”

“Hey, Dean. What is your guard dog's problem with me?” John stood in front of Dean, blocking the doorway.

“Look, you want to call him a dog fine. I’ll use dog terms. Cas is territorial and overly protective. Better?” Dean says taking another sip of his coffee. His dad moves out of the way.

“I can never get a straight answer from that kid anymore,” John huffed.

“Like father like son,” Sam signed to Eileen, who laughed.

“What? What did you say?” John asked sounding almost panicked.

“Don’t worry about it, John. They have been doing that all morning,” Mary rolls her eyes before getting up to rinse her mug out. “No one knows what they are saying.”

“I do,” Jack says causing Sam to get a bright pink blush across his face and Eileen to burst out into Laugher.

“What did they say?” John asks with a raised eyebrow.

“They said like father like son,” Jack signed as he spoke.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John turns to Sam.

“Like you don’t remember that 90% of our arguments were because you wouldn’t give straight answers because everything was on a need-to-know basis,” Sam shrugs his shoulders.

“Seems like Dean’s got a few things in common with me then. Talked to some guy named Anthony last night,” John lead.

“Dad, Dean says a lot of stuff when he’s drunk. Don’t believe everything Ant says about him,” Sam sighs.

“Wait, I thought you said when Dean gets drunk he is more likely to tell the truth?” Jack said confused.

“Hey, Jack buddy. This is an adult conversation. Let’s go find Dean and your Dad,” Mary says calmly leading Jack out of the kitchen. Eileen followed them out, leaving just Sam and John in the kitchen.

“Why did you tell me the same cover story that Dean told Anthony?” John asked.

“I didn’t know what to say to describe what happened to him. The Empty is a hard thing to comprehend and we don’t know much about it,” Sam explained.

“Well, try. I’m tired of being left out of things.” Sam scoffs again at his father.

“Funny how things change,” Sam frowns. “Look the Empty is where angels go when they die. From how it has left Cas, clearly, it’s no heaven.”

“Is it darkness?” John asked quietly.

“What?” Sam replied.

“Is it black? So black you can’t see?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you know that?” Sam asked.

“That Anthony is a chatterbox. Careful what secrets you tell him.” With that, John stood up and left the kitchen.

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

When John left the kitchen, everyone was in the library. He headed in that direction. I need Dean alone, without the angel. Dean was reading a book out loud, while Castiel sat next to him and listened. John could tell by the cover it was the Wizard of Oz.

“Do you remember meeting Dorthy? Charlie had a thing for her,” Dean smiled fondly at the memory.

“Who’s Charlie?” Jack asked.

“Oh Jack, you would have loved her. She was like a little sister to me. She had fiery red hair and superhuman hacking skills,” Dean explained as if he were talking about a character from a story. “She loved to play pretend and one time made me and Sam play with her. She was a queen and we were knights.”

“Saved Dean,” Castiel added on.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said leaning his head up against the angel. “She did save me.” Dean picked the book back up and continued reading the story to Cas and Jack. It was such a domestic scene that John was observing. It made him angry that Dean was acting like this. John didn’t get to have this with his family, why should they? It wasn’t the life he had planned for Dean. Sam? Maybe, but he never would have imagined Dean to settle down.

John took another step forward and Dean sat straight up, no longer laying on the angel, whose eyes were closed.

“Dean. Lay.” Cas said without opening his eyes. Dean stared at his father before slowly laying back down on Castiel. John scoffed and walked away.

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

John decided that the best way to get information out of Dean would be to get him drunk. He needed to hear it out of Dean’s mouth that he was in love with the angel and the angel wasn’t just forcing him with his powers. John left and drove almost an hour away from the bunker to a store.

He bought his favorite whiskey. When checking out the cashier spoke to him.

“Huh. Are you hanging out with Dean Mercury? He’s the only person who ever buys this stuff,” the cashier said.

“Uh yeah. He’s my son,” John replied.

“I can see the resemblance. How’s he doing? I haven’t seen him in some time.”

“He’s doing well,” is all John says before snagging the whiskey from the cashier's hands as soon as he takes the cash.

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

It was around 8 o'clock by the time John got home. Dean was still on the couch in the library reading, but the angel nor the kid was in sight.

“Don’t let Sammy see that. He will make you take it back,” Dean huffed after seeing the bottle.

“You wana drink?” John asks. Dean jumps up off the couch.

“Let's go to the Dean cave,” Dean smirks. Finally, something he and his dad can’t argue on. Alcohol. Dean will put an old western on and they can just sit and be together.

John followed behind Dean and closed the door behind him. Dean pulled a poster off the wall revealing alcohol and glasses. “Don’t tell Sam or I will shoot you,” Dean says. He set the glasses on the coffee table and started searching for the remote.

“Must be nice to not have that angel breathing down your neck for a few minutes huh?” John tried to break this case open as fast as he could.

“Nah. I don’t mind Cas being like that. I gave up years ago teaching him personal space. Even before the Empty, he was a weird guy.” John watched Dean smile to himself talking about the angel. “Aha! Found it!” Dean says finding the remote in the couch cushions. John starts pouring the whiskey into the glasses.

“Woah, trying to get me drunk here old man?” Dean teased taking the nearly full glass and shooting it back like it was nothing. “Filler back up while I find a good movie.” Dean settled on the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly after scrolling through his recently watched which was full of mainly Cowboy movies with the occasional nature documentary (Thanks Cas).

Not halfway through the movie, Dean had drunk enough to get his lips to unzip. “You know, every time I see one of those bars that have them lady’s who you know are hookers, it makes me think of Cas.”

“Is that so?” John said pouring himself another drink as well as refilling Dean’s.

“Yeah. I took him to this brothel one time. Hardest I had laughed in years. He was so awkward and uncomfortable it was hilarious,” Dean laughed.

“What he not like women or something?” John pried.

“Oh, I don’t know. Every time he’s shown any interest, it has been more out of curiosity. That’s at least how he explained hooking up with April.” Dean’s responses were rolling out of his mouth.

“The angel hooked up with someone? Isn’t that a sin?” John asked trying to get more information.

“Eh. He says the Bibles are full of inaccuracies. I remember him showing up in churches and criticizing priests who were condemning gay people to hell. Besides, April was out to kill him anyway.”

“Do you think he might be a queer?” John asks. Dean stiffens up and takes another sip of his drink, eyes on the TV screen.

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “I’d really rather not talk about this.” Dean gulps out of his glass.

“Sorry, just trying to figure the guy out,” John said trying to get Dean to open back up.

“Just ask me other things about him. Like, he won’t admit that he can’t taste my cooking, but he will always eat it and say it’s delicious. He is fascinated with nature even though he literally saw it get created. That’s what all those docs were. I let him pick movies sometimes. I know he doesn’t necessarily like the Westerns, but he will always watch them with me if I ask.” Dean smiles to himself. A goofy, lovesick smile. Anyone, even skeptical John, could see that Dean was in love with Cas.

John leans back and stops filling Dean’s glass, suddenly feeling very guilty about prying into Dean and Cas’s lives. The angel would watch and eat things he knew Dean liked, just to make Dean happy. John remembered doing things like that for Mary.

“What? You done drinking? We still got a quarter of the bottle left. Pass it over,” Dean said reaching over to grab the bottle. John hesitated thinking about what information he wanted, but also what the bartender said about Dean getting really upset. By the time John decided it was time to cut Dean off, Dean had grabbed the bottle and taken a large swig out of it.

“Dean, you’re slurring your words. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” John started, feeling a weird pang of Deja Vu.

“With the week we’ve been having? I’m surprised Sammy’s not dragging us both home from the bar. Well, Ant cut me off, but you know what I mean,” Dean responds before taking another swig.

“Dean,” John said starting to see the effect he had on his son.

“You know how we were talking about Cas? Did you know he came back to life the same fucking day you did?” Dean slurred. “I mean come on. It’s like Chuck doesn’t want us together. Well, I mean I know he doesn’t, but still. Can’t he just butt out?”

John stayed quiet. He felt like Dean might be reaching the spot Anthony talked about.

“I mean, he never said anything. Never. Not until Billy, I’m sorry Death, was banging on the door. You know I still haven’t stepped foot in that damn room? I can’t even walk past it without hearing his stupid fucking speech about being happy, just knowing me. ME. He killed himself for me. After we agreed not to do any more kamikaze shit,” Dean was now yelling at his father. “He made some stupid deal with the Empty and now he’s all kinds of fucked up. And you’re here, setting everyone on edge. I’m surprised Cas didn’t kill you. He hates you more than I do.” Dean laughed.

John paused the movie. The reality of the situation came crashing down on top of him. John had gotten his son, who he knew was an alcoholic, drunk to get information out of him. What kind of a father was he? Dean still hadn’t stopped talking.

“I mean, you sent me away to a boy’s home because I stole food because you didn’t leave us with enough money while you were playing house with Adam. You never left us with enough money. The shit I did to be able to just feed Sammy.” Dean’s eyes were red.

“I fucking hate you. You know that? God, it took me so long to realize that. And I love you. That’s why you are here. With me and Sammy. You know I almost pulled the trigger that day? God, I was so pissed off at you and Chuck and the Empty and it would have been so easy. You wanna know why I didn’t shoot you? It wasn’t out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll tell you that. It’s because I didn’t want the gunshot to scare Cas. How fucked up is that?” Dean just kept rambling.

John didn’t know what to do. He made a mistake. He’s made too many mistakes. He had to fix this. “Hey Jack, angel kiddo, whatever I should call you. Will you come to the ‘Dean cave’? I’ve really messed up.” Within seconds, Jack was in the room. He looked over at the empty whiskey bottle in Dean’s hand.

“Jack, buddy what are you doing up? You know Cas wants you in bed before ten.” Jack walked over and tapped Dean’s forehead, putting him to sleep.

“What did you just do?” John asked panicked.

“He’s just sleeping. Where did he get this? Sam got rid of all the big bottles,” Jack observed.

“I didn’t realize he was this bad,” Is all John said. John walked over and scooped Dean up into his arms like he did when Dean fell asleep watching cartoons in the old motels. John took Dean to his room and was slightly surprised to find the angel asleep on one side of the bed. John didn’t even mention it as he placed Dean down next to Cas watching as they moved closer to each other like magnets. Castiel grabbed Dean pulling their bodies together, fitting like puzzle pieces.

John left the room, closing the door behind him. He went back and cleaned up the mess in the ‘Dean cave’ and turned off the TV. For the first time since Mary died, he cried.

(CH 6) ·:*¨༺ I love the Idea of Places I’ll Never go ༻¨*:·

Dean woke up with a pounding headache. He didn’t even remember getting to bed last night, but he must have made some sort of advance on Cas since his arms were wrapped around Dean.

“Morning, Cas,” Dean couldn't help but grin.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. Dean’s heart quickened. It was like old times. “You’re sick.” Cas moved his hand up to Dean’s forehead and removed the powerful hangover he had. “Better?”

“Yeah, better. Thanks, Cas,” Dean’s grin got wider. Cas and him sat in the comfortable silence they always had just looking at each other.

A knock at their door sent Cas back into a panicked state, pulling his wings back out.

“Hey, Dean? You decent?” Sam calls into the door.

“Uh, Yeah. Hold on.” Dean ran a hand over his face before getting out of bed to open the door. “What’s going on?” He asked.

“Have you seen Dad? He’s not in his room, kitchen, library, or weaponry,” Sam explained.

“Uh, check the ‘Dean Cave.’ We watched a movie there last night. Let me calm Cas back down, then I will head out,” Dean responded.

Sam could smell the alcohol on Dean’s breath, but he didn’t seem hungover, so Sam decided not to bring it up. He walked down the hall towards the ‘Dean Cave’ and opened the door. His dad wasn’t there but there was a note taped to the couch.

Dear Boys,

I’m sorry for the way your life has turned out. I had some sort of realization last night and I don’t think I will be able to face you two again. Dean, I’m glad Cas makes you happy even if he’s a man. Sam, marry that Eileen girl. You’ve got a good thing going with her. You’re raising that kid well. He probably knows what I did and probably will tell you guys because somehow the Devil’s son is more honest than any of us Winchesters will ever be.

Tell Mary I will always love her.

J.W.

“Oh, crap,” Sam says after reading. Sam runs back down the hallway to Dean’s room who is exiting with Cas who has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trench coat, pulling it closer. “Dean. What the hell did you and Dad talk about last night?”

Dean tried to remember through the whiskey’s haze. Cas just put two fingers to Dean’s head again, clearing his foggy memory.

“Shit,” Dean whispered.

“What?” Sam tried not to let his frustration through for fear of scaring Cas.

“Look, you’re going to be pissed. Just a heads up,” Dean leads with. Sam just nods his head. “We shared a bottle of that cheap whiskey Dad always drank growing up. He, he got me talking. You know how I am. I wouldn’t shut up. God dammit. Jack saw some of it. I’m not sure how much he saw.”

“Apparently enough to make Dad leave,” Sam says shoving the note towards Dean. Dean’s eyes flicker back through the letter.

“Wait, this said Dad did something. I don’t remember him doing anything. I was the one who wouldn’t shut up.”

Jack’s bedroom door creaked open. “I know what he did. He was radiating guilt when I walked in,” Jack whispered.

“Jack. No.” Cas said.

“What do you mean no, Cas? Why can’t we know what happened?” Dean huffed. Cas just shook his head. Jack now looked back in forth between the two brothers and his father.

“They will be unhappy,” Cas finally croaked out a full sentence.

“What, so you know what happened too?” Dean asked. Cas nodded his head.

“Cas we are already unhappy. What’s the worst our Dad could have done that he hasn’t done before?” Sam asked looking over to Jack for the answer. Jack took a deep breath.

“He got Dean drunk to test to see if Cas was controlling his mind and ended up getting a rant from Dean about how much he hates his Dad, saying the only reason he didn’t shoot him was because of Cas being skittish,” Jack said as fast as he could.

“He what?” Sam said sounding angry while Dean just laughed.

“Ah, I could have told y’all that,” Dean said. “Wasn’t the first time he did that shit. Not sure why this time me threatening him drunk made him apologize. Made him leave? Yeah, that happened almost every time. He’s never apologized before. That’s crazy,” Dean chuckled again.

“He’s done that before?” Sam asked quietly.

“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy. Hardly the worst thing he did to us,” Dean smiled.

“You’re not mad? How can you not be mad?” Sam could feel his anger bubbling up.

“Cuz I told him the truth he didn’t want to hear. For some reason this time he actually believed it. Normally he would stomp out saying I was lying to make him feel like a horrible father. Maybe he just realized he was one.” Dean shrugged and walked away going to go get coffee. Cas followed behind quietly.

“Morning, Eileen. Morning, Mom.”

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Mary smiled.

“Yeah, well Dad’s a dumbass who got his feelings hurt like a little kid,” Dean laughed.

“Where is John?” Eileen signed and spoke.

“He left,” Sam said walking into the kitchen.

The bunker lights started flickering. Cas brought his wings out and produced an Angel Blade.

“Cas?” Dean asked.

“This was not how it was supposed to go!” Chuck yelled appearing in the middle of the kitchen. He snapped and brought a drunken John into the kitchen. “He was supposed to break up you two idiots. Kill Cas or something. Maybe even kill one of you. Come on! This was not the John Winchester who raised you two!”

“Yeah, well this John has Mary,” Dean shrugged. “Dad was different when Mary was alive.” He took a sip of his coffee nonchalantly.

“You should be scared of him!” Chuck yelled.

“Yeah, no offense Chucky Cheese, but you sent me to hell if I remember correctly. You had me bear the Mark of Cain, don’t ask,” Dean said turning to his Dad, who hadn’t heard that part of the story. “You had me help raise the kid of the Devil, who killed Cas. Then almost had me kill him. That’s not even covering everything, Chuck. My dad is nothing compared to defeating a literal God.”

Jack steps foot into the kitchen. “Hey, you are not supposed to be here,” Jack observed. “Should I call Aunty Amara?”

“Let’s leave Amara out of this, kid. This doesn’t concern her,” Chuck said.

“Yeah, she won’t be mad you are hurting Dean Winchester. Her savior. The man who helped her reunite with her crappy brother. The man who broke her out of the cage she was in,” Sam scoffed.

“You know what?” Chuck snapped, their Dad becoming sober. “Just finish this out.” Chuck disappeared after that.

“What’s going on?” John asks getting up off the floor.

“You’re leaving?” Jack asked looking at the note that was left on the table.

“Come on Dad, you’re going to make the kid cry if you leave,” Dean branches out.

“I just don’t know what to say,” John sighed quietly.

“Then don’t say anything. Grab a gun and go shoot something. We got a range down here and you are probably rusty after 10 years.” Dean said leaving the kitchen with Cas following behind him. “Cas if you are coming with, you will have to tuck those wings in. Let’s not break them again.”

“Bullets do not hurt me, Dean,” Cas scoffed.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean smiled and slipped his hand into Cas’s.

“I wouldn't follow them,” Sam said at the same time Mary did.

“Why not?” John said panicked.

“I’ve been trying to get them to get rid of that damn tension for over 10 years now. I would not want to be there if it’s starting to break. If you understand?” Sam explains getting a slow nod from John who is pale.

“You know I don’t like the idea of a monster and a human together,” John huffed.

“Yeah well, you would if you’ve been the third wheel to their stares that last all a bit too long,” Sam laughed.

“I’m not sure I understand?” Jack says.

“You haven’t had ‘the talk’ with the boy yet? What is he 20?” John asks.

“I’m four. What talk?” Jack says.

“He’s four?” John asks.

“Yeah, he grew rapidly. Honestly, I’m not sure if he knows or not,” Sam explains.

“Know what? Stop talking like I’m not here!” Jack pouts.

“Jack, you know how Dean tried to get Cas to hook up with that waitress?” Sam asks, clearly uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Dean had sex with a lot of waitresses.” Mary choked her coffee hearing that response.

“Yeah okay,” Sam says. He takes another breath in preparing himself. “Dean and Cas are probably going to start doing that soon.”

“They haven’t already?” Jack asks getting a laugh out of Sam.

“Nope not yet.”

“But they sleep in the same room,” Jack observed. Mary got up and left, done with the awkwardness in the room. John would have followed if he wasn’t frozen in place.

“Yeah, Jack. Dean and Cas are a little confusing.” Sam explains.

“So are they not married?” Jack asks confused. John looks like he wants to flee and wishes he could be like Eileen, who has her nose in a book ignoring everything.

“What gave you the impression they were married?” Sam asked.

“Cas wears a wedding band. So does Dean.”

“Oh,” Sam says. “Well the band Dean wears is technically a wedding band, but he wears it on his right. It was our Dad’s before he died. And, uh, you remember how Clair is kinda your sister?”

“Yeah, because of Castiel’s vessel, Jimmy.”

“He is possessing some guy?!” John roars.

“Dad, chill. Jimmy hasn’t been in the vessel since I was in the cage.” Sam brings his attention back to Jack. “Well, Jimmy was married. I guess Cas never took it off. He tries to take care of the vessel to honor Jimmy.”

“Oh. Well, when will they get married?” Jack’s naivety can be frustrating at some points, even if it can be endearing.

“I’m not sure, Jack. Those things take time.” Sam smiles down at the Nephilim.

(CH 7) ·:*¨༺ I am Happy to be bonding in the Kitchen with my Friends ༻¨*:·

Cas is getting better every day. It’s been about a month since he was brought back and he is significantly better than the day he came back. He still has moments where he won’t speak and becomes skittish, but they are less frequent.

Dean gets better as Cas gets better. They have been much more affectionate than they have ever been. John is still clearly uncomfortable and sometimes scoffs and leaves the room when they show too much affection, but he tries to keep it to himself since every time he says something Mary threatens him.

John starts to get to know his sons for the first time. He always knew that Sam was smart, but he also had a knack for witchcraft (another thing both John, Mary, and Dean all had to get used to). Dean, still strong with almost perfect aim, is incredibly intelligent. He knows about classic literature and can read multiple languages.

John tries to get to know Castiel, but Castiel seems to be less forgiving than Sam and Dean. If Dean is in the room, he will say very few words to John, all of them generally polite. If it is just John and Cas, he threatens John with one wrong move and he will smite him without hesitation.

Mary and John are starting to bond once more, but may never love each other the same way they did. John is trying to adjust to the idea of Hunter Mary and not Housewife Mary. He finds comfort in the fact that it also took Dean quite a long time to adjust.

John is slowly adjusting to the new world he is in. New tools, weapons, and gadgets are easier to accept than the new allies the brothers have. Witches, demons, Vampires, Werewolves, etc. Apparently, the hunter Mary was hunting with was a Werewolf, who was hunting down other Werewolves who were hurting people.

Even with all these changes, John is happy to be home with his boys.

24 notes · View notes