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67impalaandwhisky · 4 years ago

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Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Show Level Violence, Fluff

Chapter 5.

"You better not let my insides turn to mush." You tell your best friends as they drive through the dark night towards the scene of the crime.

"We would never let you get hurt, ever. Don't be ridiculous." Dean mumbles as he lowers the music as it blasts throughout the car.

"I'm just saying." You whisper as you tug at your dress.

"Yeah well, don't 'just say' anything. And, stop pulling at your dress like that something is gonna pop out from one end or the other if you keep it up." He barks out.

Throwing his jacket over your legs, you let the scent of his cologne wash over you and you feel your nerves begin to calm down.

"You memorized what he looked like right?" Sam asks as you finger at the green fabric of his jacket.

"Yep. Got it all in here." You say tapping your temple with your index finger before looking out the window.

You watch the odd streetlight pass you by before eyeing the moon. You've always loved how, no matter how close you drive towards it it always seems farther and farther away with each step.

"Since Morley Rosmund was cremated by the state, he must be attached to something. A lock of hair, a locket, something he bled on." Sam says as he flicks through the sheets of paper within his manila folder.

"Maybe he's attached to the old woodchipper that prostitute shoved him through." You comment as the car begins to slow down.

"That would be an issue." Dean mumbles as he pulls up to the nefarious corner.

You want to open the door but your nerves seem raught with determination to stay inside the safe car.

"All we need to find out is where he takes the women. Whether it's his old house, his old office, anywhere. We'll send him packing for the night and go there in the morning to scout it out and find whatever he's attached to." Dean tells you as he hooks his hand behind the passenger seat to look at you.

It's a simple plan. Straightforward like always. You three are a team. There's no reason to let yourself get worked up over nothing.

"We're going to be right across the street. We'll be watching you." Your younger best friend tells you calmly and you look up at both of them before nodding.

"Okay. Let's gank this bitch then." You whisper before opening up the car door.

The gentle chill that blows through the breeze assaults all of your limbs as you stand on the street corner.

You watch Baby do a U-turn before the car shuts off. Dean is watching you like a hawk, eyes narrowed as he picks some skin off his bottom lip.

His gaze is comforting and you take deep breaths as you pace back and forth.

"She looks nervous." Sam comments to his older brother as he angles his head to watch you.

"Yeah. She's waiting for a weird pervert ghost. You'd be nervous too if you were her." Dean answers gruffly as his eyes roam your body.

"Why don't you guys just fuck already?" His younger brother asks as he brings his coffee cup to his lips.

"Excuse me?" His older brother's voice is deep and low, the threatening baritone creeping into his head and rattling his brain. Dean turns his head slowly to his brother with narrowed eyes.

The gaze sets something akin to nervousness in Sam and he gives an awkward chuckle combing his long hair behind his ear.

"I just...I mean… I can see the way you both look at each other." He says with a shrug.

"It's complicated. Don't worry about what me and Y/N do or haven't done." He mumbles before turning back to watch you continue to pace.

"I mean you guys have both liked each other since you guys met. And...Well, you guys always pretend like something between you both doesn't exist." Sam fumbles with his words.

Dean sighs as he pulls his flask out from the inside pocket of his jacket. Taking a swig, he rolls his eyes.

"I'm not talking about this right now, Sammy. All I do is talk about this shit to you, to Cas, to Bobby, even to Dad when he was still alive. I'm not with her because I don't fucking deserve her. I'm not going to ruin her life like I always do. So, shut the hell up." He barks out before cracking his neck.

Sam nods slowly as he presses his lips into a straight line, "Fine. I just think Y/N should be able to make those decisions for herself too. Y'know?"

"Shut up, Sam." The fraction of a second that this conversation has gone on, Dean's eyes left you for a minute.

When he turns his head back to the corner, you are gone.

"Goddammit!" He curses loudly, slapping the steering wheel harshly before shoving the door open and jogging across the street.

Nothing but the brisk chill of the evening is all Dean can feel. You're completely out of his sight and he puts his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry." Sam apologizes quickly as he joins his older brother.

"If anything happens to her…Fuck!" He curses as his head continuously turns in all directions.

Pulling out his phone, the younger Winchester begins to track the GPS on your cell phone, "I'll find her." Sam whispers nervously as he takes in his brother's broken form.

Dean can feel his heart clenching, his eyes are watering at the mere thought of you being in danger. How could he let you out of his sight?

He promised. He fucking promised.

This is like Marsh all over again.

Clutching onto the fabric of his shirt over his heart, his head lolls back at the pain and fear that encroaches upon him.

Dean and Sam weren't paying attention when Morley Rosmund came and grabbed you. That you knew for a fact. They were fighting. As per usual.

The second the man in olden clothes had touched you, your body felt cold and numb.

You could count on your hand the amount of times you've met a ghost this pissed.

You've done jobs by yourself before while your best friends were gallivanting and fighting with every Archangel known to man. This would just have to be one of those times where you suck it up and have to fend for yourself.

You couldn't rely on them always and that's perfectly okay. You can handle yourself, you're strong and capable.

Ghosts with this angered of a spirit can travel only a certain distance away from their soul-bound item.

That seems to check out as you're pulled only a block away from that street corner. The office building is old and decrepit. There are many stop work orders on the face of the building as you're pulled inside.

Grimacing, you step over dead bodies and bones in the first floor hallway.

"This is my office." You hear Morley explain and your breath comes out in puffs of smoke as you wrap your arms around each other for warmth.

"Oh. Lovely." You murmur as the body of a woman around your age lays on the old, varnished desk.

Your hand reaches for your clavicle and you tug off the old coin pure iron from the necklace before pushing it down into the palm of your hand.

Your eyes glance around the office, trying to find anything that would be the key item for this man to still be bound here. You try to ignore the putrid smell of rotting flesh before the taller ghost is in your line of sight with a feral smile on his face.

His body shifts in and out of this plane of existence before solidifying once more.

"Get on the desk and spread your legs." He commands and you shiver at the roughness of his voice.

Clearing your throat, you sit on the corner trying your best not to touch the dead girl that's there.

"NOW!" The thin glass of the window shatters at his bellow and you swallow thickly as you raise your hand to his face.

Just the thought of touching this dead spirit is nerve wracking but you need to be able to get out of here. You know the building now, you just have to get away.

You press your hand to his face and he shimmers away with a yell. Closing your palm, you jump off of the desk hopping over dead bodies in the hallway. You're so close to the entrance door you can almost taste it.

But, Morley Rosmund is an old, angry ghost. Just as quickly as he vanished, he reappears.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he blocks the doorway and you go to throw the old iron coin at him. Before you can even let the coin slide out of your hand, you're in the air.

Your body travels backward against the wall with a loud thud and you crumple in on yourself with a whimper. You can taste blood in your mouth, can feel your body aching and bruising all over as the ghost advances on you.

Dean is mumbling to himself as he rummages through the trunk.

Hearing glass shatter in the distance, his head jolts up.

"You hear that?" He asks his younger brother as he grabs his sawed off shotgun.

"Yeah. I got her location. She's not far." The words put gusto into his bones as he rapidly grabs the rest of the materials and weapons he will need.

Slamming the trunk shut, he hauls the bag over his shoulder before throwing a shotgun at his brother.

"Let's go then." He says quickly, ushering Sam to get a move on.

Jogging down the block, it didn't take long for them to find the old, decrepit building you were housed in.

Peeking his head in Dean can see the strewn bodies on the floor, new and old.

"Oh Y/N." He whispers gently as he pushes the door open with the mouth of his gun.

The office door which is cracked and shattered reads 'Mund.' You must be in there.

Stepping over the dead bodies gingerly, the closer he gets to the office with his little brother behind him the louder your whimpers and grunts of pain become.

His jaw clicks and he can hear you cursing out the ghost like a proud sailor.

Kicking open the door, he takes in your half naked body for a fraction of a second before he's shooting the gun at the ghost. The rock salt blasts through Morley Rosmund and he's gone within seconds.

"Hey. Hey. I got you." He whispers as he jogs over to you.

You whimper loudly, holding your arms out like a frail child and his heart breaks at the sight of you.

"I'm so fucking sorry." He says as he picks you up. Your skin is already bruising and deepening in color as he coddled you to his chest.

"We gotta go!" Sam yells as more glass begins to shatter in the office.

Dean buries your face into his neck as he steps over strewn debris and body parts. You can hear him whispering kind, gentle words in your ear and you practically jump out of your skin as Sam shoots the gun behind you.

"He's one angry son of a bitch." Dean growls as he kicks open the front door.

Stepping down the stairs, the brisk chill of Autumn assaults your half naked body and you groan loudly as Sam shoots the gun once more before closing the front door of the building.

Sammy throws his jacket over your body as Dean jogs back to the Impala with fast feet.

"Did he hurt you? Where did that sick son of a bitch touch you?" The venom in his voice is almost intoxicating to listen too.

"I'm okay." You whisper as he opens the back door of the Impala without a word.

Throwing the keys to Sam, the younger brother clears his throat uncomfortably. Dean sits in the back of the car with you, he pulls your upper body onto his making sure Sam's jacket is covering your body.

You're still aching and feeling the pain all over but it's also a soft comfort that creeps over your body as Dean runs his fingers through your hair.

"De?" You whisper as your eyes flutter closed.

"Hmm?" He asks, lowering his head to hear you clearly.

"When I feel better, I'm going to kick your ass for leaving me alone." You threaten before grimacing and putting your hand to your chest.

His face shifts above you, as if he's been stabbed or shot. Your words cut him to the quick and he can barely nod.

"I would expect nothing less, Candy girl."

You ended up in Dean's bed again that night, which was becoming more of a regular thing than you cared to admit. But, against all of your better judgement, you were okay with it.

You were finally sound asleep when Dean uttered his first words of the evening.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers as he turns towards you.

Your lips are parted, hair splayed over your face as you take shallow breaths during your sleep.

Turning his head to make sure his brother is sleeping, he curls his arm around your form. His thumb grazes gentle circles on your forearm as he watches you sleep.

"I'm so caught up in what to do around you, what to say, how to hide my feelings… It's all getting to be too much for me." He mumbles more to himself than to you.

"I shouldn't have taken my eyes off you tonight. I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention. I don't know what I would have done if you got hurt because of me. God…" His voice is deep and pained. A tear threatens to spill over as he hangs his head.

This would be about the time where he grunts angrily and drinks a beer but he can't leave your side. Not for a minute.

"I'm getting sick and tired of not having you as mine. Really fucking sick of having to push you away because I'm too goddamn stubborn to do anything about it." He sounds breathless by the end of his monologue. Laying his head down on the pillow, his thumb drifts over your cheekbone once more.

"Then don't be stubborn." You whisper before turning over and facing the window.

Your older best friend's eyes widen and he clears his throat before rubbing at his face roughly with his left hand.

"I didn't...I didn't know you were awake." He whispers as you open your eyes.

You watch as soft grey clouds drift past the large moon that looms over the motel.

"Kind of hard to sleep when your best friend is spilling out his soul to you." You retort quietly, your fingers pull at a frayed string of the comforter that lays over your body.

"So...you heard me?" He asks nervously.

Oh. You heard it all.

Destiny Is Heaven Sent Taglist: @roonyxx, @deans-baby-momma

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x you #destiny is heaven sent #SPN Book #SPN #spn fam #SPN series

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brittney-red · 5 years ago

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This is what I wrote for Katie’s 400 Followers Challenge! @controloffandoms

Hope you enjoy!

There were many things in Dean Winchester’s life that he regrets. Going all the way back to his childhood, which was not the best time in his life. He wasn’t able to protect his mom from the fire that destroyed their home, he wasn’t able to save his father from his drinking problem years later, he hurt his little brother Sam when he disappeared for a year after their dad died so he could ‘find himself’, and he took years to finally tell his best friend how he really felt about him. Honestly, the list could go on and on, but the one thing he really regrets most in his life? Walking past that damn SPCA with his bleeding heart of a boyfriend.

Read it on AO3?

It was an accident really, Dean was so engrossed in his delicious peanut butter chocolate chip ice-cream cone that he didn’t realize where they were until it was too late. He had incidentally lead them straight into the dreaded corner of 1st and Maple. It was avoided like the plague by parents of with children of any age and adults that had a heart for small abandoned animals, but didn’t have the means of adopting anymore pets. When he finally looked up from his treat and he started to stutter in protest of the direction they were heading he couldn’t stop his boyfriend. Cas had already seen the puppy eyes of a big eared, brown eyed Bassett hound in the window and his boyfriend was long gone. So much so that he dropped his raspberry cheesecake ice-cream cone to push his face up to the window with a loud ‘squeee!’. Dean cursed under his breath as he watched his lover start fussing over the hound behind the glass. All it takes is a puppy to get a 30 year old grown ass man to act like a 5 year old again.

“We need to save this puppy Dean! Look at it’s sad wittle face!” Cas said bubbling with excitement, bright blue eyes still very much attached to the brown eyes of the little hound in the shelter. Who, by the way, was so not helping Dean’s case. As soon as the pup saw Cas, it hopped up on it’s little stubby legs and bounded over to the window to say hello, pink tongue lolling out of the side of it’s mouth. The hound let out a weak little bark and Dean swears he saw hearts pop out of his boyfriend’s eyes. He knew he was in some deep trouble now.

“I’m sorry love but we can’t get a puppy right now.” The sandy haired man murmured softly, wrapping one arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, trying to coax his boyfriend away from the puppy and the shelter while still eating his cone. It was proving to be a majorly difficult task.

Sad blue eyes met green, a pretty pink pout on his face. “Well, why ever not?”

Dean chuckled fondly at the affronted tone of his lover. “You know why babe,” he explained, finishing his cone and wiping his sticky hand on the front of his flannel, the other shifting from the shorter mans shoulder down to his waist so he could start moving him in the direction of home easier. “We live in an apartment complex that doesn’t allow pets.”

“Well then, we’ll just need to move.”

Dean rolled his eyes and placed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Alright sweetheart, whatever you say.”

***

About a week went by and honestly Dean had forgotten all about the puppy incident. They walked away from the shelter without adopting an animal much to the blue eyed man’s chagrin, but Cas didn’t seem too upset about it. Which is why when Dean comes home from a long day working at his uncle Bobby’s auto body shop to his boyfriend sitting crossed legged on the couch, laptop in front of him looking for houses in the area, he’s a bit confused.

“Cas, why are you looking at houses? I thought we were going to give ourselves at least another year, save up some more money yeah?” Dean questioned as he toed off his work boots by the door and walked into the kitchen to get a them a couple of beers.

“Well, you said that our complex doesn’t allow pets.” The raven haired man countered from his place on the couch, eyes glued to the houses he’s scrolling past on the screen. Two beers in hand, Dean wandered into the living room, set the open beer bottles on the coffee table, and plopped down on the couch next to his boyfriend.

“Wait, is this about that puppy we saw last week?”

The only answer he got was a ‘what do you think’ look. Dean raised his hands in a pacifying manner and chuckled. “Well, make sure you find a house with a fenced in yard and a garage for Baby.”

Dean honestly thought his boyfriend would drop the whole thing, forget about the house hunting and that damn puppy given some time. They’ve got a nice little apartment in their hometown, great jobs that afford them to have nice week long vacations and special anniversary dinners, a wonderful group of friends that are more family than anything, and their love for one another could move mountains. They don’t need the worry of a puppy right now.

“Babe, we don’t need the worry of a puppy right now!” Dean was getting close to his wits end. The puppy conversation didn’t go away like he thought. In fact, he’d accidentally made it worse. That off hand comment he made about a yard and garage had his boyfriend actively looking for the perfect house, for them and the nonexistent puppy they have.

He started to notice PetSmart bags being hidden in the back corner of their closet, full of random toys, bowls, a bright blue collar with matching leash, and treats, bookmarks about how to train a puppy, how to puppy proof your house, puppy blogs, and a Pinterest board! Dean didn’t even know what Pinterest was!

“The puppy wouldn’t be a worry Dean. I know Charlie or Sam and Jess would be happy to watch it when we’re gone for a long period of time, and I work from home so I can take care of it everyday!”

“I really just think we’re not ready for one yet!”

“Why wouldn’t we be? We’ve been best friends for 10 years, officially together for 3. We’ve been through so much together, I think we can handle a small puppy.”

“I know that Cas, I still just don’t know about this.”

“Well why the hell not Dean?!”

And that’s the million dollar question. He doesn’t exactly know why. Maybe it’s because growing up they moved around a lot and it wasn’t a conducive environment to have a pet so he never thought about getting one, maybe it’s because he had to take care of Sammy for most of his life and he didn’t want to have the responsibility of having to take care of another life again, or maybe he wasn’t ready to share his life with Cas with someone else. The last one is really silly, but he loves the way their life is now and he’s a creature of habit. Come home, drink some beers and eat some take out on the couch while they watch TV, have sex until one or both of them are too tired to move. Perfect life! Adopting a puppy was almost like having a baby and honestly? It kind of scared him.

“Can we talk about this another time Cas? I really just want to drink a beer and catch up on Game of Thrones.”

The only answer he got was a sharp glare and an angry huff before his boyfriend stomped off to their bedroom.

Fuck, he was in the doghouse now. How ironic.

***

“Hello Dean.” Usually, the deep, gravely voice of his lover saying his name like that would get him so hard so fast he’d get dizzy, but not right now. Right now, it’s the last thing he wanted to hear. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet, something about a meeting with his editor for his new book. Dean was sure he double checked the calendar before he left this morning. Shit.

“Heh, hiya Cas.” Dean gave a little guilty half wave and started to shift from foot to foot, green eyes looking everywhere but the steel gaze of his boyfriend. He’d been planning this surprise for about a month now, ever since they had their last major fight. It had ended with him sleeping alone in their memory foam king size for a week while Cas went and stayed with his brother Gabe on the other side of town.

It was a silly fight, over that damn puppy again. Of course.

They’d moved into a perfect little fixer upper only a couple of months ago and Dean was still working on getting settled. The whole process was a whirlwind, it went by so quickly, financed and signed in a matter of weeks, but they were ecstatic about the house so they didn’t care. It has a two car garage with ample storage for all things mechanical with room to fit Baby and Cas’ Pimpmoblie (as Dean likes to call it) and a half an acre of fenced in back yard, the two things Dean specifically said their house needed. Sure, the kitchen needed some updating, the dingy carpet needed to be replaced, and the bathrooms needed a little TLC but the master bedroom was huge with a walk-in closet and a master bath with a jacuzzi tub (that alone had Dean sold with a lot of innuendos and wiggly eyebrows happening when they first looked at the house) and they still had two extra bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms. Overall, it was an amazing experience and they couldn’t be happier.

Until last month that is. When Castiel started bringing up the little hound from the shelter again. What started as a silly little argument turned into an all out, full blown fight. Over a dog! Dean didn’t think they were ready to bring home a puppy yet still, they literally just moved into their first house together, but Cas was adamant that the house needed something else. Especially since he was home alone most of the day, which made Dean feel terrible. He didn’t say that though, of course, which is why Cas left to stay with Gabe for a week while Dean was left to stew in his misery.

During that week he was able to work past his issues with a puppy and come up with a plan. With the help of Sam, Jess, Charlie and a little push from Gabe he was able to adopt that little brown eyed hound from the shelter, prep the house, get the pup signed up for training classes, and work on crate and potty training. He wanted to show his lover that he thought about this and didn’t just go out on a whim to make him happy.

“Did you really think you could sneak past me? I've been waiting for you to get home for hours." Cas hissed his tan arms crossed across his chest, blue eyes blazing with fury.

“Actually I was hoping to surprise you.” Dean said softly before he opened their front door and gave a small whistle. Within seconds a happy little hound puppy came bounding up their front steps, stepping on it’s too long ears and tripping over the threshold with a small oomph. The green eyed man bent down with a chuckle to pick up the wiggly pup and was rewarded with puppy breath and wet puppy kisses.

Castiel let out a small gasp, the fur ball was wearing the blue collar he’d bought months ago. “Dean? Is that the collar I bought? Is he really ours?” He whispered unbelievingly as all the pent up anger he felt slowly disappear with just one look at his best friend holding the sweet little puppy.

Dean answered with a nod, gesturing with his head for his lover to come closer. The dark haired man stepped forward quickly, his eyes filling with love as he reached out and touched the velvety softness of the puppies head.

“Hi little one, aren’t you just the cutest thing ever?”

“I thought I was the cutest thing ever?” Dean quipped uncertainly, he was answered only with some eye rolling and a small huff.

“Dean? Do you have the little monster? He took off when you whistled,” Sam said while running into the house a little out of breath, arms full of toys, treats, food and water bowls, all the things that Cas hid in their closet plus some. He paused, taking in the scene in front of him. “Oops, sorry to interrupt! I’m just gonna lay these things here and I’ll be on my way.” With a nervous chuckle he emptied his arms on the floor by the door and gave Dean the ‘you better call me later or I will kill you’ look before swiftly turning around and all but ran out the door.

“Thanks a lot Sammy!” Dean yelled to his retreating brother’s back, he really owes him a lot. This wouldn’t have been possible without his support and his pet friendly apartment. “I’m sorry I’ve been acting really shady lately, I never meant to make you worry.” he whispered cautiously, stepping closer to Cas to let him take the 10 pounds of fluff from his arms carefully. Dean couldn’t help the small affectionate smile that spread across his face at the sight of his longtime boyfriend cuddling and cooing to the puppy.

With a huff Castiel stalked off towards the couch, but was still cooing softly to the bundle of joy carefully cradled in his arms. “Shady is an understatement.” He murmured without looking up, his blue eyes gazing lovingly at the brown and white doggy.

Dean treaded carefully over to the couch, sitting delicately on the arm as to not piss off his lover more by getting too close. “I just really wanted to do something special for you.”

Finally, blue locked with pleading green and Dean could see the cold melting from his boyfriend’s eyes. The sandy haired man scooted off the arm of the couch then, feeling more comfortable now that his lover was thawing. He moved close enough to be able to wrap a strong arm around his lithe waist, pulling the shorter man in close to his body.

“Thank you Dean.” Castiel said fondly, accepting the embrace fully. He leaned up to place a swift kiss to the underside of Dean’s stubbly jaw before picking up the puppy to look deep into it’s eyes. Cas got a lick to the nose in response, with a giggle he laid the puppy down in his lap so he could get comfortable in Dean’s arms.

“What are you gonna name him sweetheart?” Dean asked bemused, reaching out a hand to scratch behind the puppy’s ear.

“I think I’ll name him Jack.” With a happy little bark, it was settled.

Sure, their life would change drastically with a new house and a puppy, but the ring that’s hidden in the safe at Bobby’s shop says that Dean’s in it for the long haul and he wouldn’t change a thing.

@controloffandoms hope you enjoyed it! :)

#Katie's 400 Followers Challenge #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #destiel fanfic #destiel #castiel x dean #Dean Winchester x Castiel #castiel x dean fanfiction #fanfic #puppy #puppy love #fic about adopting a puppy #Castiel really wants a puppy #Dean is sooo not feeling it

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lucaservine · 6 years ago

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Where: San Diego, CA When: Thanksgiving Break Status: Closed

When Lucas is back on solid ground, there’s a deep sigh of pure relief. He doesn’t hate flying necessarily—he lives part of his life flying around in the air. Lucas just hates long flights where he forgets what it feels like to be back on the ground. Now outside of the airport, Lucas faced sunny California with the biggest smile and happy to be home. As much as he did love Palmetto, nothing could quite beat the beauty of the west coast. Lucas found his Uber and tossed his bags into the backseat with him as he cheerfully greeted the driver. It would be a bit before he was home and he settled into the backseat with his eyes taking in the palm trees, passing buildings, and traffic. That was one thing he certainly never missed.

Going back home was bittersweet. He missed California. He missed his high school friends. He missed walking down to the beach and spending most of his days there. At the same time, Lucas knew going home meant walking into a world he knew would be turned upside down. Over the past few years his mother had turned into… a raging storm that was entirely unpredictable. But this time things would be different. After their last conversation, Lucas was hopeful that they’d spend this holiday together mending bridges and being happy. Like the family they were supposed to be in the beginning.

When the car pulled into the community of condos, Lucas started to pull his bags together and get the money out that he needed for the driver. It was still weird to see the different buildings and the idea that this wasn’t his childhood home anymore. Lucas would be lying if he said he wasn’t mad at his mother for selling the house without talking to him. Sure, the condo was nice and it was right on the beach… but it wasn’t his home. Lucas still missed his neighbors and his childhood bedroom. It felt weird imagining that someone else lived there now with their family.

The driver left Lucas on the sidewalk and he headed up toward the building with his bags. He went up the side stairwell to get up to the top floor. In the walkway, Lucas spotted Mrs. Mendozzi who was sweeping out the sand and leaves from her front door. “Hi Mrs. Mendozzi,” Lucas called out with a bright smile. She turned around, broom in her hands until she realized who it was and the broom clattered to land against the wall. “Luke, my sweet summer child! You’re home! Your mother didn’t say you were coming! I could have baked cookies or made you a nice meal! Oh, look at you, have you grown taller? How’s college? Is everyone being nice to you? You tell me if there’s someone being mean, I’ll come all the way out there with my broom and teach them a lesson.” The parade of words came with a warm big huge from the old woman that left Lucas in laughter as he hugged her back.

“I’m fine, I promise. I really should get inside but I promise I’ll stop by tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about my life at college, okay?” It was the best Lucas could do for now; he wanted to get inside and talk to his mom.

“Alright, dear. I’ll make sure to have cookies ready to go.”

She left him with a kiss on the cheek and went back to sweeping, humming softly. That was the one benefit he could find in moving to the condo. Mrs. Mendozzi had been a blessing in his life, always willing to talk to him and keep an eye on him. Her husband was just as sweet, had been kind enough to help Lucas whenever it was one of his tougher days and he was visiting home.

Lucas turned back to the door: 308. It took him a moment to get the keys out of his pocket with his bags, but he eventually got the door open and pushed it open. He was met with darkness and the coldness in the entryway. Lucas turned on the light switched and stepped inside, looking around. “Mom?” Lucas shouted, waiting for a response. “Mom?” He tried one more time.

Pursing his lips, Lucas stepped back out to the walkway. “Mrs. Mendozzi, did my mom go to the store or something?” He asked as he leaned against the doorway—half in and half out of the condo. The old woman stopped and turned, hand on her hip as she gave Lucas a confused expression. “Not that I know, dear. I haven’t seen your mother here in about… a week? Maybe two.”

At her words, Lucas felt his heart racing in his chest. He didn’t let his smile fall, only said thank you and went back in with the door shutting behind him. From the kitchen breakfast bar, Lucas spotted the blinking red light that said there was a voicemail on the home phone. Walking over, Lucas pressed the button and listened to the voice:

You have four new messages. First new message. “Elizabeth, it’s Drake. You’ve always been impeccable with your attendance and your support with the school. You’ve missed the pass few meetings and I just want---Message deleted. Next new message: “Lizzy! Girl, you will not believe what just happened! I saw---Message deleted. Next new message: Hello Ms. LouBard, this is Beth Washington with Riscard and Bell. I’m calling in regards to your---Message deleted. Next new message: Lucas, love, hello! I don’t know what time you’re getting in but I wanted to let you know that I won’t be home. Laura and Megan got tickets to a show in New York and I couldn’t resist going! I know you understand, sweetheart. You always do. And thank you so much for the money. I know it was for Thanksgiving dinner but since it will just be you, I thought I could use it for my trip. If you need anything, ask Mrs. Mendozzi! Love you, Luke baby!” Messaged deleted.

Lucas took a deep breath and brushed away the tears that had fallen. No, he wouldn’t cry. What was there to cry about? Really, it was his own fault for being naïve and thinking that she would have stayed for the holiday. It didn’t matter how sincere she might have sounded…

With sluggish movements, Lucas went to his bags and grabbed them so he could unpack in his room. It was robotic. Lucas moved slow and without thinking as he put his things away. It wasn’t until he’d finished unpacking and sat down on the edge of his bed that he’d started to think and started to get angry. Lucas wasn’t an angry person. It was unfamiliar and he didn’t like the bitterness it left in his mouth.

He should have never come home.

The first two days were spent running errands. Lucas had to stock the kitchen as there wasn’t anything but an old beer bottle and condiments that were questionable in the door. Clearly his mother hadn’t been home in a while. After a trip to the grocery store, Lucas made another trip to the bank to talk to one of the employees. It had taken him an hour of sitting outside the bank for him to work up the courage, but he eventually went inside and asked for help. When he walked out, it was with mixed feelings and his mother no longer attached to his bank account. Even if she asked, he had no way of giving her money now.

After more little errands, Lucas spent most of his days on the beach or chatting with the neighbors. When he wasn’t there, he sat on the balcony of the condo with a book and petting the Mendozzi’s dog Cheerio who was more than happy to see Lucas back.

But the routine got old fast and Lucas found himself feeling dangerously alone at nights. It was too quiet and the television didn’t work—his mother didn’t pay for cable or any streaming apps. Lucas eventually caved in and got himself Netflix but even that didn’t help with the loneliness that was settling into his bones.

When Thanksgiving came, Lucas didn’t get out of bed until late afternoon. A bad decision when the time came to finally move and the soreness in his leg made it nearly impossible. He tried to do his stretches, but that only helped so much. Thanksgiving dinner came in the form of a frozen television dinner of turkey, corn, and mashed potatoes. He sat at the dinner table by himself, staring up at the opposite end of the table every once in a while.

That night, Lucas cried in bed. Soft, silent tears that lolled him into sleep.

When Friday night came around, Lucas had packed his bags up and left the condo without a look back. It hadn’t ever really been his home and without his mom there that whole week, it felt less like a home than ever before. The drive to the airport was quiet but full of indecision. Why did he feel so shitty? Lucas hated the storm brewing in his chest, hated the loneliness that was sinking into him this whole week and he had no way to get rid of it even if he tried. He’d stopped answering his phone save for one picture on Instagram of him on the beach and a caption that would be typical Lucas fashion.

At the airport, as he waited for his flight to board, Lucas finally took up his phone and called the number that had been sitting on the screen for ten minutes. Not shocking, he reached the voicemail.

“Hey mom. I’m on my way back to school but I wanted to call you before I got on the plane…” Lucas took a deep breath. “I took you off my bank account. I’m not giving you anymore of my money and… I-I’m not letting you walk all over me anymore. You were supposed to be home, we were supposed to spend Thanksgiving together. Year after year you’ve been using me for money and as an excuse to avoid your responsibilities and I’m tired of it. I’m your son and this…this isn’t how you’re supposed to treat your son. S-So no more… I hope you understand and we can talk about this whenever you’re done with your trip.” Lucas ended the call and stared down at his phone, not at all happy with his words. He still felt conflicted, but still had so much more he wanted to say. Wanted to shout.

Hours later, back in Palmetto, Lucas went straight to his room at the Vixen Den and crawled straight into bed.

#food tw #abandonment tw #( - lucas )#( - selfpara )

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banshee1013 · 3 years ago

Text

Fic - Litha

Rating: Teen Tags: Castiel/Dean, Human!Cas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Summer Solstice Rituals Words: 6002 Summary: Part 2 of The Wheel, where a newly human Cas is discovering and strengthening his connection to the earth and the Wheel of the Year. See Part 1 (Ostara) here. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32822014

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Dean hums along to the song playing on the radio - Travelling Riverside Blues, a favorite Zep tune — foot tapping to the beat as he plunges his hands into a bowl filled with ground chuck, eggs, panko crumbs, and Worcestershire sauce. The cool meat squishes delightfully through his fingers as he mixes the ingredients — and then curses softly to himself, glancing over his shoulder at the counter where the spices he meant to add to the meat are gathered, mocking him.

He hears footsteps approaching and looks up hopefully as Sam strolls into the kitchen, a towel around his neck and shirt sticking damply to his skin, obviously fresh from a visit to the bunker’s gym. But any hope Dean had of being saved the hassle of cleaning the raw meat from his hands to add the spices are quickly dashed.

“Hey Dean,” Sam says as he makes a beeline for the refrigerator, completely oblivious to Dean’s plight. He watches, helpless, as Sam hauls the fridge door open to grab a bottle of water and two beers. He turns and pops the tops from the beer bottles on the edge of the counter just like Dean taught him — and Dean grins, unable to help the surge of pride in his chest at the sight. Then, still oblivious, he places the beer bottles on the stainless steel kitchen island where Dean is working the meat. He turns his back to Dean to lean against the island, uncaps and raises the water bottle, downing it in a few gulps. Catching his breath, he crumples the flimsy bottle in his giant paw and tosses it toward the recycle bin, arms pumping the air when the bottle goes in clean. Wipes his mouth with the corner of the towel as he turns back, and finally, Dean thinks, Sam’s eyes fall to Dean’s untouched bottle, then over to see Dean’s hands buried in the bowl. He winces.

“Oops. Guess I should have checked if you were done with that first,” he says, the apology in his voice not stopping him from grabbing his bottle and taking a drink. “Kinda hard to hold a bottle with meat-hands.”

His contrition doesn’t last long, Dean notices, as Sam’s lips twitch up into a smirk. “I could always get you a straw…”

“Shuddup and get over here, make yourself useful,” Dean says, grinning to take the bite out of his words. He nods toward the spices. “Can you bring those over? I need you to add them in.”

Sam nods and sets his bottle down, moving behind Dean to gather the spices and bring them around to the front of the island. At Dean’s direction, Sam sprinkles in the oregano, garlic, and onion powder, then grinds salt and pepper onto the meat as Dean works it in. Nodding in satisfaction, Dean wipes the excess meat from his fingers as he tilts his head toward the paper-lined baking pan on the stove. “Can you bring that over now?” he asks, smiling as Sam sets the pan down and returns to the other side of the island and his beer. Dean forms patties from the seasoned meat and sets them on the pan, pressing a dent into the center as he completes each one. Finally, he takes the empty bowl to the sink, filling it full of soapy water and washing his hands.

“By the way, have you seen Cas? This whole barbeque thing today was his idea but I haven’t seen him since we got up this morning,” he asks, turning back as he grabs a towel to dry his hands.

Sam shakes his head. “Not recently.” He then snaps his fingers. “Oh, Jack popped in a little while ago, maybe they’re out getting set up or something.”

Dean nods and turns toward the fridge to pull out a block of cheddar cheese and a package of bacon. Returning to the island, he sets the cheese down, then pulls a cheese slicer from a drawer and a plate from the shelf. Setting the slicer on the plate, he slides it and the block of cheese pointedly across the island to Sam, then picks up his beer, leans back against the stove, and takes a long pull from the bottle.

Sam chuckles. Getting the hint, he sets his beer down, wordlessly unwraps the cheese, and begins slicing.

Dean grins, then pushes away from the stove and turns to open the package of bacon. He grabs a handful of toothpicks and the pan of hamburger patties, wrapping two pieces around each of them, crossed in the middle. He spikes the ends with a toothpick, his mouth watering in anticipation of biting into one (or, let’s face it, two or three) of these once they’re cooked. Spinning around to face the sink, he washes his hands one more time, then heads to the pantry to pull out the buns. When he returns, he lets out a low whistle, as Sam has finished slicing the cheese, returned the block to the fridge, wrapped the plate of cheese slices and pan of burgers, and is just placing everything into the cooler he’d already filled with ice and beer.

“Damn, Sammy, you’re really on the ball today!”

Slapping a hand on his awesome brother’s shoulders as Sam’s closing the lid, he says, “Alright, let’s go get these on the grill and find out what Cas and Jack have been up to.”

Dean snatches up his neglected beer and takes a sip, smacking his lips in approval, then leads the way out of the kitchen, the cooler wheeling along behind him.

As they emerge at the gravel lot by the entrance to the garage and turn the corner around the back of the bunker where the grill is usually set up, Dean slides to a halt and Sam almost plows into him. No grill. Dean surveys the area — the grill including the propane tank was not light, and if it had been moved, there would be tire tracks from where it had been wheeled off — but there was no indication it had ever been there.

A familiar deep, gravelly voice echoes down from the top of the hill next to the bunker. “Dean… Sam… up here!” Dean turns to face the voice, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the light of the midsummer sun, which was just starting to dip toward the crest of the hill. A tall, lean figure is silhouetted there, the sunlight shooting around him setting him aglow, and Dean’s stomach flutters.

Of course Cas had moved the festivities to the meadow on the hill.

Ever since that sunrise three months ago where Dean had found him in that meadow, naked as a jaybird and stunningly gorgeous, Cas had been spending a lot of time up there. It had become a bit of a project for him, the latest addition being a small apiary. The bees feasted on the numerous wildflowers blooming nearby and had just started producing a small amount of delicious wildflower honey, which Cas delighted in putting on just about everything — toast, tea, waffles...

And then Dean blushes as he recalls the very special place Cas had used that honey, just last month during Beltane — by a roaring fire, on a blanket under the stars, Cas dripping a trail of the fire-warmed honey down his naked body and licking it clean…

“Dean? DEAN! C’mon, Cas and Jack moved the grill to the meadow.” Dean blinks and hopes Sam thinks the flush on his cheeks is merely from the sun and follows his brother as he pulls the cooler up the hill. And when he reaches the top, he is not prepared for what he sees.

The fire pit is still there, a small circle surrounded by stones; wood already neatly piled within. But a larger circle had been added around it, made from the same stones as the firepit and encompassing four small log benches surrounding the pit. And on each bench lies a crown of branches, a pair on each which curled into the air like antlers, and with flowers from the meadow woven in and around the branches creating bright splashes of color.

Dean swallows, the butterflies flapping in his stomach erupting and threatening to swarm up his throat as he remembers the crown of actual antlers Cas had placed upon his head during Beltane. Minus the flowers, at least.

“Do you like it?” Cas is suddenly at his elbow, long fingers gently curling around his forearm, then sliding down to slot them between his own. His voice is hushed, somewhere between nervousness and pride.

Dean squeezes his hand, his eyes continuing to take in the scene. “Yeah. It’s… it’s awesome, Cas.”

He drags his eyes away from the scene and they follow Sam as he wheels the cooler toward the grill, stationed to the side of the outer ring.

Right, barbeque.

Putting his questions aside, he pulls Cas in for a hug, his lips brushing against his temple. “You ready for some amazing burgers, sweetheart?”

Before Cas can answer, Jack comes bounding out from the nearby woods with Miracle on his heels. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, spread into a big doggy grin. “Hello, Dean! Hello, Sam!”

As he slides to a stop at the far side of the outer circle and waves, Miracle comes alongside him and calmly sits at his heel. Dean waves back, bemused.

He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to the idea that the half-angel kid he helped raise — who on most occasions still behaved very much like a kid — was capital-G God.

“Hi, Jack!” Sam called, bending over the cooler and removing the pan of burger patties and plate of cheese, setting them on the fold-out table attached to the barbeque to get to the beer underneath. Pulling out four bottles and an opener, he pops the tops and hands one to Cas, the other to Jack as he rounds the circle toward him. Dean drains the bottle he’s holding, dropping it into the paper bag tied to the leg of the small table on the other side of the grill, then grabs the full bottle from Sam.

“Alright, I have burgers to make,” he says; but just as he’s turning toward the grill, he stops and turns back. “But first, big thanks to Cas and Jack for putting this...” he gestures toward the little campsite and grill, “... all of this, together.” Bottles clink and everyone drinks, their smiles as warm as the late afternoon sun shining down on them.

“Okay, I really have to get these burgers on. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.” Dean turns to the grill, lighting the burners; then turns to watch as Sam, Cas, and Jack toss a ball between them, playing keep-away with Miracle. Her excited yips fill the meadow, combined with the happy laughter of his family, and Dean feels that warmth in his chest again.

He never believed he would ever be able to have this — happiness, joy… love. Never in a thousand years. And yet, here he is, the joy bubbling up in his chest escaping in a small chuckle, the grin on his face wide enough to hurt his cheeks. He turns back to the grill, still chuckling, and carefully places the burgers on the grate.

While the burgers cook, Dean turns back to watch his little family — somehow, a Frisbee has materialized, Miracle leaping for it as the three men throw it to each other. Cas makes a throw and Miracle, living up to her name, makes a spectacular leap and snatches it from the air. “Atta girl, Miracle!” Dean whoops. Cas turns to him, blue eyes even bluer against the color high in his cheeks, full lips spread into a smile bright enough to rival the sun. He’s breathtaking and Dean can’t believe such an amazing creature could love someone like him.

But he doesn’t doubt Cas’ love for him, or his love for Cas. Not anymore.

In a breath Cas is there, chest pressed against Dean’s and arms wrapped around his neck.

“Hey, angel,” Dean says breathlessly, then humming as Cas pulls him down into a soft kiss; sweet with a smidge of heat in it, like cayenne pepper dusted over hot chocolate.

Cas pulls away and Dean chases after, but Cas stops him with gentle fingers against his mouth, a soft grin on his lips. “The burgers, Dean.”

Sure enough, the sweet smell of caramelizing meat was beginning to edge toward the bitter smell of carbon. Dean pushes Cas’ fingers aside just enough to drop a quick peck to his lips. “Raincheck,” he says, grinning, and turns quickly to the grill to check the burgers.

They’re perfect, the bacon crispy and the juices running clear as he presses on the patties, the fire spitting and flaring as the juice hits the burners.

“Is there anything I can do?” Cas asks.

Dean shakes his head. “Nah, these babies are done. Just gonna kill the heat, lay the cheese on, and toast the buns and we’ll be ready to chow down.” He glances over his shoulder at Sam and Jack still tossing the Frisbee between them, Miracle taking a breather after her victory. “You can go rally the troops though.” Cas nods and turns away.

Moments later the three join him and a flurry of activity takes place: plates, forks, condiments, potato and macaroni salad all make an appearance seemingly out of nowhere; and when Dean turns with the plates of cooked burgers and toasted buns, his eyes grow wide at the manifestation of not one but two pies — cherry and apple, his favorites.

“Where… what…”

He casts a suspicious eye at Jack, who merely smiles benignly as he loads his plate with macaroni salad.

No need to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dean decides, setting the burgers and buns down and loading up a plate for himself.

With one plate almost buckling from the load of two burgers and a second one with everything else on it, Dean starts toward the circle and the benches, but Cas heads him off, guiding him instead to a large gingham blanket staked down in a sunny patch of the meadow. Sam has wheeled the cooler nearby for easy access to the beer, and they all take a seat on the blanket and dig in. The sunlight upon them is warm but not excessively so, the rim of the sun just beginning to kiss the edge of the horizon; the twittering of birds in the trees accompanying the hums of enjoyment and contentment from his family warming Dean even more.

The golden hour reaches them and washes the world with bright color, the sky blazing gold and orange. As the sun dips further, the blues and purples of the far horizon begin to encroach, the sky creeping toward darkness as they finish their meal, leaning back against the blanket and rubbing full stomachs as Miracle sneaks scraps from their discarded plates.

As the last rays of the sun begin to fade, Cas rises and heads toward the circle. Dean sits up with a groan to follow but Cas stops him with a smile and a light kiss. “Wait here, I’ll only be a moment.” Dean rolls onto his side to watch as Cas approaches the outer circle, pausing briefly before crossing over to the pile of wood teepeed in the center of the firepit. Producing a long fireplace match, he flicks the head of it against the striker on the box. The match ignites in bright yellow and orange, and Cas places the burning stick under the firewood. The kindling there catches quickly and before long, the fire is crackling merrily, sparks fluttering into the sky like molten fireflies.

Cas stands and beckons, the firelight sparking in his eyes casting an almost ethereal glow that takes Dean’s breath away. From behind him, he hears the clinking of glass, then Jack is on one side and Sam on the other, and as a unit they approach the circle.

He’s not sure why, but at the edge they all pause as one; it’s as if a gentle force holds them back briefly, then slowly gives way, and they all step into the circle.

Cas stands in front of one of the benches, and that’s when the realization hits Dean — the benches are oriented to the four points of the compass, Cas at the one oriented North, and gestures for each of them to take one of the other four — Dean to the East, Jack to the West, and Sam to the South.

Cas steps behind his bench and crouches down next to the outer circle. A single stone had been removed causing a break in the ring, and as Cas sets the stone back in place, Dean feels a low hum tingle across his skin; the air fresh and clean like the smell before a thunderstorm.

Cas returns to his bench and reaches to either side, hands held out to Dean and Jack, and Dean is surprised to realize he can reach Cas’ hand easily, the fire bright but small enough for them to do so without being too close. As his hand clasps around Cas’, he gasps as a jolt of energy, like the spark of static electricity, passes between them; and then again as his other hand joins with Sam’s.

Then Jack’s hand closes with Cas’ as the last light of the sun fades, Dean feels more than hears a crack, like a sharp slap of a sheet in the wind, the feeling of energy in the air around them causing his skin to erupt in gooseflesh and the hair on the nape of his neck to stand on end; and the world seems to come to a standstill, the wind whispering in the trees and the chirrups of birds settling down for the night fading into the distance.

In the unearthly quiet, Cas intones:

Tonight we honor the spirits and the partnership of the earth and sun, on this, the night before the longest day.

He releases Dean’s and Jack’s hands, but the low hum of energy remains, even as he and Jack release Sam’s.

Cas continues:

Tonight we celebrate the men in our lives who have helped us and shaped us, even as we celebrate the masculine within ourselves.

Cas walks behind the benches but staying within the outer circle, past Jack’s to pass in-between Dean and Sam’s, and turns to face them. He smiles at them both, then reaches for the crown of branches on Dean’s bench and places it in Sam’s hands.

We celebrate those who raised us.

Sam stares at the circlet of branches in his hands, then at Cas, eyes wide. Cas smiles gently and nods, and Sam turns to place the crown on Dean’s head, his hands shaking and eyes glistening. As Dean watches, his heart in his throat, a tear runs down Sam’s cheek, sparking in the firelight. Without a second thought, Dean reaches up to wipe it away, then Sam pulls him into a crushing hug. They stand there for a minute, then with a simultaneous closed fist pound to the back, they back away.

Cas then turns to pick up the crown next to Sam and places it in Jack’s hands. At Cas’ nod, Jack turns to Sam and lifts the crown to Sam’s head. Sam chokes down a sob as he leans over for Jack to place the crown on his head, and then it’s Jack’s turn to be crushed by the moose.

Cas moves to stand by Jack’s bench and picks up the crown there.

We celebrate those who we have raised.

He places the crown on Jack’s head, and as they embrace, Dean can’t hold back the tears any longer, the track of them running in silent rivulets down his cheeks.

Finally, Cas picks up the crown on his bench and moves to stand in front of Dean. For a moment, their eyes meet and time seems to stop and hold its breath — then Cas places the crown in Dean’s hands.

And we celebrate those who love us.

Cas’ voice is low and shaking with emotion. Dean swallows a sob and bites his lip to still his shaking hands as he lifts the crown and places it on Cas’ head. No sooner than his hands have dropped, Cas’ lips are crushed against his, hot and urgent, salty from the tears streaming down his face; and Dean returns the kiss in kind and then some. When they finally part, Dean doesn’t let him get far, his forehead pressed to Cas’ and hands on either side of Cas’ face to keep him there, gasping for air against his lips.

Cas finally reaches up, wrapping long fingers around his wrists and pulling them gently from his face, then sliding down to grasp his hands. Cas catches his gaze, his eyes bright and clear, a soft smile on his face. With a squeeze, he releases Dean’s right hand but keeps hold of the left, moving back to his bench to grasp Jack’s hand again. Dean and Jack reach for Sam’s, and they stand like that for a while, the sound of Dean’s heart beating and the crackling of the fire between them the only sounds in the world.

Finally, Cas breaks the silence, his voice resonant in the summer night air:

We honor each other, and ourselves, as we honor you.

With a small squeeze, Cas drops Dean’s hand, then reaches to remove the crown from his own head, raising it high with whispered words of offering before crouching down to place it at the very edge of the fire.

Wordlessly, Jack and Sam follow suit. Dean raises his but pauses, searching for something momentous or important to say… and then just speaks from the heart, the words uttered in his head and to whoever — whatever — might be listening.

Thank you. Thank you for my family.

Then he, too, crouches and places his crown at the edge of the fire.

Lifelike tendrils of flame reach out to lick at the crowns, snaking through the antler-like branches like fiery fingers, caressing and exploring. Slowly though, entropy takes over and the crowns ignite, the fingers of flame turning each of them ethereal, shining bright in golds and oranges and reds.

And as they burn, Dean begins to feel the hum of energy dissipate, the low level buzzing in his ears growing softer as the crowns crumble to ash. When Cas turns and removes the large stone, breaking the circle, a brush of air rushes past him and out of the circle, like the world exhaling again; and Dean startles as the noises of the woods around them crash back in.

And then, be it the tension breaking so abruptly, or maybe just pure and utter joy, he can’t help the laughter that builds in his chest from bubbling out. It runs out of him like a storm surge, slowly at first with little chuckles and building until he’s doubled over, grasping his knees and gasping for air. As the flood runs out of him, he rises, little bursts of giddy laughter escaping between deep breaths as he brings himself under control. As he does, he notices the cooling tear tracks on his cheeks and his face flushes bright in embarrassment; but when he glances up sheepishly, expecting to see the other men looking at him in concern or annoyance, he’s pleasantly surprised to see them all as affected as he is, cheeks as flushed and tear-stained as his own.

It’s Sam who moves first, walking first to Dean to gather him up in his giant arms, then continuing around the fire to pull in Cas and then Jack.

“I love you guys, so much,” he says, squeezing them all together into a very tight group hug that leaves Dean gasping for air once again.

Sam mumbles embarrassed apologies as he releases them. “Oh! I forgot the beer!”

“And the pie!” Jack adds, dashing over to the table to gather plates and begin cutting slices for everyone, while Sam jogs back over to his bench to gather the beer he’d brought over. Dean takes the opportunity to pull Cas to him, wrapping arms around him and brushing a kiss against his temple.

“That was…” Dean struggles for the right words, and nothing he could think of seemed to work; no words exist to describe what he’d just experienced. So he settles for something he knows he has the words for. “You’re awesome, and I love you so much.”

Dean feels Cas’ body hitch as he chokes down a sob, the arms around Dean’s waist squeezing him even tighter as he buries his face in Dean’s neck.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas says softly into his ear, his breath hot against Dean’s neck sending shivers up his spine. He pulls back enough to press his forehead against Dean’s, hands clasping the nape of his neck. “So, so much,” he whispers against Dean’s lips before closing the gap, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to them.

Dean could have stayed there forever, breathing Cas’ air and tasting his lips, but for the clatter of the beer bottles inside the cooler — Sam had wheeled it closer to his bench by the fire, apparently having deemed the bottles he had brought with him too warm to drink. And then Jack is calling them over for pie.

With one last quick kiss, Dean’s hands slide from Cas’ waist to grasp his hand, and together they join Sam and Jack at the table, where Jack had not only sliced the pie but served a slice of both pies on plates for each of them, complete with forks and napkins. They grab a plate and head back, nabbing a beer from the cooler as they pass and settling down on the benches by the fire — which, Dean notices in bemusement, was still going just as strong as it was when it was first lit, no sign of it diminishing.

Magic. His thoughts are disrupted by the warmth of Cas’ body as he slides onto the bench next to Dean. It’s long enough for both of them to sit comfortably close, and Dean is completely fine with this, setting his fork down to wrap an arm around Cas’ shoulders and pull him in for a quick kiss to his cheek.

For a while, all is quiet as they enjoy the pie, the beer, and each other’s company; the only sounds being the crackling of the magical never-ending fire and the occasional hoot of an owl in the trees. But then they begin to talk about the men in their lives who have influenced them; of course, Bobby, but also Rufus. Jack regales them with stories of Bobby and Rufus’ adventures in Heaven. He also talks about Ash and the Roadhouse, which leads to Ellen and Jo, and then Mary and Jess — the women who’d influenced the men they’ve become. Dean grinned as Sam began to talk about Eileen with a soft smile on his face and a flush on his cheeks that he’s pretty sure wasn’t coming from the beer or the fire, and makes a note to goad Sammy into giving that woman a call later. She was good for him, and Sammy deserved good things.

The talk dies down and contentment settles in; the crackling of the fire and noises of the night soothing and peaceful. By now, Miracle has rejoined them (and Dean wonders what she must have thought, watching the earlier from outside the circle).

The men have slid off the benches and are now sitting on the ground with their backs propped against them, the fire finally showing signs of burning down. Across the top of the fire, Dean watches in amusement as Jack’s head lolls to the side, brushing against the top of Miracle’s head before he whips it back up with a startled look on his face; and a glance to his right shows Sam looking pretty drowsy as well. And if he’s being honest, the events of the evening — while awesome and amazing — have him feeling pretty drained himself.

But Cas curled tight against him has him warm and content, and he really doesn’t want to move.

Speaking of, the only one that still seems awake and aware is, of course, Cas. Dean tilts his head slightly to observe the man at his side: blue eyes half-lidded and almost black in contrast to the orange and gold reflected in them as he stares into the dancing flames. A small, blissful smile plays across his face and Dean wants nothing more than to taste that smile.

Instead, he nuzzles into the soft hair at Cas’ temple, placing a light brush of lips there. “Time to call it a day, sweetheart,” he says softly in his ear. “The troops are fading.” As if to prove his point, Jack nods off again, almost sinking on top of Miracle this time, and Dean can’t stop a chuckle. “As I was saying…”

“Wait…” Cas straightens and Dean instantly misses his warmth, just then realizing how chilly the night had become as Cas frog-crawls over to his bench, reaches behind and pulls out — to Dean’s infinite surprise — four sleeping bags.

“Will you all camp out with me here tonight?” Cas asks, soft and low, eyes cast down onto the sleeping bags piled in front of him, holding one out before him like an offering.

“Yes!” Jack says, excitement rousing him, and he reaches out to take the offered sleeping bag, hugging it to his chest in delight. “I’ve always wanted to camp out in front of a fire!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, Sam chuckling as he takes the sleeping bag Jack eagerly thrusts into his hands. “Sure thing, Cas.”

As the other two lift their benches to set them outside the circle of stones and begin unrolling their bags in front of the fire, Cas turns to Dean, the remaining sleeping bags. “Dean?” he says softly, shyly, as if Dean would even consider saying no to him.

But Dean’s a little shit and has to have some fun with him. He sighs loudly with an exaggerated eye roll. “Okay, fine… on one condition.”

Cas’ eyes grow comically wide; then, realizing Dean is screwing with him, levels him with a Class One Squint that would have turned him to ash on the spot if he still had his grace. As it is, it takes everything in Dean’s power to not burst into laughter.

“What condition?” Cas asks, suspicious, crossing his arms.

Dean grins and snatches the remaining two sleeping bags. “That you zip yours up to mine and keep me warm, of course!”

From behind him, muffled by the sleeping bag he’s already burritoed himself in, Sam groans. “Ugh, you guys are gross.”

Dean laughs outright but is stunned to silence when he sees the bright smile on Cas’ face, heart skipping a beat at the warmth and happiness filling his blue eyes.

How did I get so lucky…

Dean swallows the emotion down and turns to lift the bench out of the stone ring as Cas rolls out the sleeping bags and zips them together before crawling inside. Dean places a small log onto the fire to keep it going a little longer while they fall asleep, then eagerly joins Cas inside their joined sleeping bags.

He’s no sooner zipped the bag behind him when Cas is there, curling into his side. Dean wraps his arms around his ex-angel and presses a kiss to the top of his head as Cas nuzzles sleepily into Dean’s neck.

“This was a wonderful day, Dean,” Cas murmurs, warm breath against Dean’s ear causing goosebumps to race down his arms. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

The first thing Dean notices upon waking is the empty spot next to him, cold to the touch as he pats a hand over the place where Cas had been sleeping. A missing Cas would send him into either panic or resignation in earlier times, but the sight of the horizon lightening in muted pinks and purples tells him exactly where Cas went.

The second thing he notices is the smell of coffee, and rising on an elbow, he’s surprised to see the source of the smell — a coffee pot, set on a grate placed over the hot pile of embers in the fire pit. Dean takes a deep breath, inhaling the rich aroma of the coffee, and then softly chuckles at the four blue-speckled cups sitting in a row on the remaining bench.

Cas really thought of everything, didn’t he?

As he’s unzipping the bag to crawl out and fetch a couple of the cups, he notices the pile of clothing neatly folded at the bottom of Cas’ side of the sleeping bags and has to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud and waking Sam and Jack (and Miracle, curled up next to Jack), still sound asleep. Quietly separating the bags, he rolls one up with the clothes inside, tucks it under his arm, then pours coffee into two of the cups and heads to the part of the meadow where they picnicked the day before.

Only recent experience keeps him from fumbling the coffee or the sleeping bag, but he is no less stunned at the sight that greets him: Cas, completely naked, standing tall as the rays of the first sunrise of summer crest the horizon, striking him and setting his skin aglow. His arms are outstretched like he’s waiting to hug the sun as it rises, head tilted back and eyes closed, a beatific smile on his face. As the sun rises higher, Dean watches, mesmerized, as he draws his hands together in front of him as if to scoop in the sun’s rays, then presses them against his chest as he slowly lowers to his knees onto the meadow grass, chin dropping to his clasped hands.

For a moment, time once again stands still.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas’ voice, barely a whisper, floats over to Dean as if on a ray of light, and Dean is drawn forward, much as he had that first time in March, much as he had that morning in May after a wild night of passion; drawn to kneel behind Cas, placing the two cups beside him and draping the sleeping bag around them both.

“Heya, Cas.”

Cas leans back against him, head falling to Dean’s shoulder and eyes closed, his expression one of complete contentment. Cas inhales deeply through his nose and smiles.

“I see you found the coffee.”

Dean smiles, lips brushing against Cas’ temple. “I did. But how did you know I would come here and bring it to you?”

Cas leans forward and spins around, catching Dean by surprise when Cas all but climbs into his lap, wrapping his legs around Dean’s waist before reaching for the coffee cups, offering one to Dean. “You always find me.”

Dean takes the offered cup with a chuckle. “Good thing, too. I’m not sure how Sam or Jack would take seeing you strolling back into the camp buck naked.”

Cas shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee and humming his approval. “Jack would think nothing of it. However, you’re right — Sam might find it odd and perhaps even shocking.” Dean chuckles but then Cas looks up from his coffee, his bright blue eyes meeting Dean’s, and Dean’s breath catches; he’ll never get used to the intensity, the sheer amount of love shining there. “Happy Litha, Dean.”

Dean takes the coffee from Cas and sets both on the ground before grasping the sides of Cas’ face and kissing him; soft at first, then deeper as Cas opens for him. Breathlessly, Dean finally breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to Cas’.

“Happy Litha, Cas. I love you.”

“And I, you, Dean.”

#fic #destiel #summer solstice #rituals

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