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writefasttalkevenfaster · 5 years ago

Text

Aaron Hotchner / Worth Your While

Prompts: The Beard Hotch Fic™ - inspired by that one episode where hotch has a beard and all of us collectively lost our minds

Word count: 3.728

Warnings: E, phone sex, mutual masturbation, beard kink (i guess that’s a thing??), oral (f receiving), i don’t know just smut

Image Credit: @agenthotchner

“Still don’t know when you’re coming back?”

A sigh floated through the phone, “Not yet,” you hum, climbing into bed on top of your covers, your legs folded underneath you. You hear his cot creak underneath him. You hummed, as you placed your pillow beside you, if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine that he was lying there beside you.

“Enjoying the hot Pakistani desert a bit too much, Hotch?” a small chuckle leaves his throat, voice gruff over the line.

“I would enjoy it a lot more if you and Jack were with me,” your chest aches at the sound of the weariness in his voice. He was so tired — and now you couldn’t even take care of him. Another sigh leaves his lips, before he adds, a ghost of a laugh in his voice, “although he’s not a fan of the beard.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Really?”

“His exact words were, ‘do they not sell razors there, Dad?’” you snort, turning onto your side, “I think I’m going to shave it off before I get back.”

“Ah let’s not rush it,” you bit your lip, running your fingers over your bare neck, “why don’t we ask for some other opinions before we jump to conclusions?”

You could practically hear his eyebrow raise over the phone, “And what’s your opinion, sweetheart?” his voice is low and scratchy, and you can almost imagine his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as he murmured the question against your neck.

You feel a heat begin to climb up your neck, and down your body, “I don’t think you should shave,”

“You don’t think?” he presses, and you hear the cot groan again as he shifts, “or I shouldn’t?”

“You shouldn’t,” you swallowed, fingers drifting down to the waistband of your shorts, “not until you see me again.”

“And what are you going to do when you see me again?” you whimper, fingers past the elastic of your shorts, your fingers drift against your soaked panties, “answer me.” You gasp his name as your fingers circle your clit, “are you touching yourself?”

“Yes,” you say, breath uneven as he shifts in his cot again, more this time, “I need you, Aaron, I—”

“Call me on video call,” he hisses, and you know his fingers are around his length, the video call feed only confirming it, “see what you do to me,” his pants are gruff and short, “show me what you’re doing.” You flip the camera from your face to the middle of your thighs, your hand hidden beneath the fabric of your obviously drenched underwear, “Pull those off, I want to see you. I want to see exactly what I’m doing to you.”

Your underwear slides down your thighs, slowly, as you lift your hips for the camera. And his breath hitches when he sees you — soaking wet and two fingers deep in your pussy, “Aaron, fuck, I miss you—”

“What do you miss?” there’s an edge to his voice, an urgency, but still, his voice is hushed and quiet, tension thrumming in the air, “tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Is that an order, sir?” and you hear him groan quietly over the phone that hangs in the silence of the desert.

“Fuck, yes, it is,” he growls, and he hears a quiet hum leave your throat, and he knows you’re enjoying this — all too much, but not as much as if he were actually there. If he had two thick fingers pressed inside of you. His mouth swallowing all the little noises leaving your throat, until his lips sucked dark bruises against the hollow of your throat.

“I would want you to pin me down, your fingers parting my thighs,” quick gasps part your lips, filling the silence of his tent, and you wonder — could someone hear you if you were just a little too loud? Could a colleague hear your desperate cries of his name, you begging him for his cock, his mouth, his fingers — anything, “feel your beard against my thighs as you wrap your tongue around my clit, fingers inside me, like mine are now—” Your fingers sink deeper, adding another with a loud gasp, your hips rolling against your hand, “and I’d cum all over your face.” His beard slick with your cum, as he kisses you again, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

“Then, you want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” a helpless whine parts your throat at his words, low and sharp, “But still, I’d sink into you, slowly, let you feel every inch of myself part you — wet and tight — for me.”

You arch your back against your bed, Only for him.

“Aaron, please, I need to see you — see your face—” You’re close — he doesn’t need to see your face to know that. And you know he hears it — hears you preen against you, and in the quiet silence of your bedroom, and his hand squeezes his cock. Fuck, and he abides by your request — shows you his face contorted in quietly controlled pleasure, his teeth against his bottom lip, until he hears you.

“Aaron, I’m—” he groans, far too loud for the quiet desert and conscious colleagues that surrounded him. But it only further pushes you over the edge, thinking about that groan in your ear, pressing kisses against your neck, fucking you hard and fast until your walls tighten around your fingers, phone falling from your hand. But not before you hear him say your name, reverent and breathy.

Your fingers begin to still, the feeling of your fingers carrying you through your orgasm, chest rising and falling in quick pants. Your body slumps against your mattress, boneless, eyes squeezed shut. That is, until you hear a voice on the phone.

“Fuck,” you mutter, reaching for the phone, “sorry, did you say something?”

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice deep and blissed out — and you can almost feel the words of love vibrate against your skin, “I miss you, so much.”

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder?” you offer, flipping the camera so he could see your face, “but phone sex definitely helps.”

A smile pulls at his lips, “It does, but it’s not enough.”

“No, nothing compares to the real thing,” you sigh, rolling over on your bed, “but luckily, the real thing is waiting for you when you get back,” and then you add, “Just don’t shave the beard.”

He runs a hand through his beard, “Yes ma’am. You’ll make it worth my while?”

You grin, tilting your head, “Don’t I always?”

~~~

Hotch leaned against the headrest of the airplane seat, stuffed between two sleeping passengers — this was certainly different than using the jet. Not that he was complaining — he needed to get back. He resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the arm rests.

Ian Doyle. That was a name he had spent several months trying to forget. The events of what happened still haunted him, but even more than that, the lies he had to tell the team wore away at him. Guilt gnawed at his insides, a pit in his stomach that he was sure would give way.

He had to do it. He had no choice. He was the team’s leader. He had to make the hard decisions. He had to bear the burden. But he only wished he didn’t have to do it at the team’s expense.

He rubbed at his eyes. Watching them cry and mourn, listening to them grieve right in front of him, as he evaluated each of them for field work — it had killed him. And now it would all come out. Prentiss was alive. And they had kept it from them. He had kept it from them.

But there was no use thinking about the fallout. Not when he was on a plane miles away from its destination still. No, he needed to think about something else.

He glanced at his phone, smiling at the picture of you and Jack smiling back at him. He remembered the day they had taken that photo. It was your first time spending time with Jack. He never met someone who clicked so easily with Jack — after everything that had happened with Haley, Jack was a little quieter, a little more reserved (not so dissimilar to himself, you had pointed out to him). But with you, it was different. He would smile. He would laugh. He understood. He knew you and you knew him. And he was so grateful for that.

And he was so grateful for you.

His fingers rubbed at his chin, still prickly with his beard. He had kept his promise — he had kept it for you. Even though Jack would be less than pleased. He would be staying with Jessica either way while he dealt with the situation at hand. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep the next few days — he knew that for sure. But even so, the prospect of seeing you soon made his chest feel a little lighter. No longer would date night consist of a hurried dinner and possible phone sex. Now, he could hold you, he could touch you, and he could fall asleep to your quiet breaths, instead of to a far too hot desert and a lonely cot.

And the best part? He hadn’t told you that he was coming back yet. And he didn’t think he was going to, until he was at your doorstep.

~~~

“How was work today?” Hotch gave a heavy sigh over the phone, and you put down the bowl of dough you had been stirring, “Aaron?”

“It was a hard day,” he cleared his throat, “we saved a kid, but he saw his father die in front of him.”

“Aaron,” you wished you could touch him, could comfort him, no words were enough for times like this, “you couldn’t have done anything more. You saved his life.”

“I know, I just—” he clicked his tongue, “I just wish it didn’t turn out that way.”

“And that’s why you’re one of the good guys,” you smile at your phone, “and that’s why you can’t let it eat away at you — you still have your own little boy to come home too. Not to mention, your very patient girlfriend.”

He laughed, a soft noise that made your heart stutter in its chest, “You have been very patient, haven’t you?”

“I have,” you hummed, perking up at the tone of his voice — appreciative and teasing — “got something to reward me with?”

“I actually might,” and you bit your lip, “but you’ll have to do me a favor.”

“This is my reward, and I have to do you a favor?” you clicked your tongue, “doesn’t seem very fair, Agent Hotchner.”

“I know all about fairness, sweetheart. After all, I did study it in law school,” you could almost see him shaking his head, a smile dancing across his lips, “I just need you to open your door.”

“Open my door?” you wiped your hands clean, before grabbing the phone off the counter, making your way to your door. You spotted the back of someone’s head through the peephole. Locks clicking as you undid the lock and the deadbolt, you held the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, “Aaron Hotchner, did you order me dinner again? Because I told you I already—”

You gasped, your phone clattering against your hardwood floors. Aaron stood, hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips, as he tilted his head, “No, but I did bring dessert.”

“Aaron!” you ran into his arms, hands on his shoulders, face buried in his chest, “I can’t believe this. You’re back. You’re here.”

“I am,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, “and I’m not going anywhere now.”

You pulled away, “You’re back for good?” and he nods, as your fingers cup his face, thumbs running over his cheeks, and you note the bristle underneath your fingertips, “and I see you kept your promise.”

“Of course, I’m a man of my word,” he breaths, leaning closer as your breath hitches, his lips pressing against yours. It had been months, and you had nearly forgotten how he tasted, lips moving firmly against your own. His teeth grazed your lip, as he eagerly swallowed your moan, as your hands tangled themselves in his hair, walking backwards, as he shut the door with his foot, “I missed you so much,” he says in between kisses that stole the air from your lungs.

Your hands pushed the jacket from his shoulders, “I missed you too,” his hands squeezed your hips, before his hands slipped your thighs, lifting you against him, as he carried you to your bedroom. No longer could you tell where you began and he ended, but you didn’t care — not when his teeth grazed against your pulse point like that. He had you pressed flush against your bedroom door, lips burning a trail of kisses down your neck, fingers toying with the straps of your camisole.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered, and he did — placing you on your bed, and in a second, he was on top of you.

Your fingers busied themselves with undoing the buttons on his button down, while his slid the hem of your camisole higher and higher. You undid the last button and the shirt slid off his shoulders, and he lifted his arms as you did away with the undershirt immediately. Your fingers traced over the broad expanse of his chest reverently, enjoying how his muscles reacted to your touch and how his breath stuttered his chest when your fingers grazed him. The same man who stayed calm under pressure crumbled under your touch.

You raised your arms and he slipped the camisole from your body, groaning when he realized you had no bra on underneath. His fingers teased your nipples, mouth wrapped around one of them, “Aaron,” you arched your back into his touch, your fingers slipping between your bodies, trying to undo the button on his pants. His teeth grazed your nipple, soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue, “please,”

You undo the button of his pants, and pull them down, helping him kick them off. He whispers your name, pressing a kiss to the skin between your breasts, before tucking fallen strands of hair behind your ear, “What do you want, baby?”

Your eyes fall to the prominent bulge in his boxers, “Fuck me,” you look up at him, thumb brushing his lips, and he smiles, pressing another heated kiss to your lips.

“Not before I taste you,” he says, voice husky, as he burns a trail of openmouthed kisses down your body, re-familiarizing himself with every curve and dip of your body, until the fire in the pit of your stomach all but engulfs you. He tugs your sleep shorts down, as you lift your hips to help him, kicking them off. His calloused hands part your thighs, as he settles between them. You watch him with lidded eyes, breath stuck somewhere in the back of your throat. A low groan rumbles in his chest at the sight of your obviously soaked panties. You hiss as his beard scratches beautifully against your thighs, friction making you squirm, until his large palms steadied you. Fingers splayed over the soft skin of your inner thighs, his nose brushing far too close to your soaked center, as he kisses right below the waistband.

“I had forgotten how good you smell,” he murmurs, another kiss, this time right on top of the wet spot on your panties.

He spreads you wider, hips jumping as your heart does in your chest, when his fingers brush your slit through the thin fabric. He doesn’t remove them, no, instead, he slides the crotch aside placing you on full display for him, half wrapped in that silk fabric. You hiss when you feel his warm breath mingling with the cool air of the room. His tongue darts out across his lips, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, before leaning down to press a kiss to your warmth.

His moan vibrates against you, a reverent noise of unrestrained passion and you know that this is just as much for him as it is for you, sending shivers down your spine of what’s to come. A single finger begins to part your folds, as his mouth presses butterfly kisses all around your clit, his beard deliciously grazing against your thighs. And finally, he takes a single broad swipe up his tongue up the length of your weeping cunt. A gasp blooms into a moan, as your fingers grasp at him, traveling the length of his shoulders, until you are able to card your fingers through his dark strands.

His tongue moves in tight circles, your muscles squeezing his thick finger, as keen against him, eager for more, more. As you always were for him, and only him. Desperate for his touch, even when he couldn’t provide it. His beard only stokes the fire coiling in your stomach, now burning against your cunt.

The phone sex seemed like a distant memory, a cheap imitation of the real thing. Nothing, nothing could compare to his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his touch. Nothing could compare your fingers threaded through his hair, his moans quietly reverberating against your slick folds. Nothing could compare to him — the sweet man who had just come back after spending weeks away from his home, his family, his friends, his life — but he chose to spend this night with you.

Another finger parts your folds, and a broken whine leaves your throat, as your head falls against your plush bed, “You take me so well, sweetheart,” he mutters, tongue flicking against your clit, as you lift your eyes to meet his gaze, “so good to me. So patient. So sweet.”

And that’s when his mouth closes over your clit. Your hips rock against the flat palms of his hands, as his tongue flicks against it. And the coil in you snaps, his name a ghost upon your lips, a soundless scream on your lips. You feel him hum against you, far too pleased, but you barely notice, lost in your own high. But he does not relent, pulling your orgasm from you as his fingers scrape against your shuddering walls, tongue eagerly tasting all that you offer him.

He drags himself back up to you, his hardness brushing the inside of your thigh. His fingers trace your jawline, as your eyelids flutter, watching his tongue dart across his chin, still glistening with your release. His lips quickly follow the paths scorched by his fingertips. His lips find yours again when your breaths are even, and even now you can’t get enough of him.

You arch towards him, fingers sliding down his chest to the waistband of his boxers, “Sweetheart,” a strangled groan of your name on lips still sticky with your cum, and he stares at you, eyes black as the darkness that surrounds you, as you slide his boxers down finally.

You both groan in tandem, as your fingers close around his length, flushed and weeping. His hips lean into your touch, the head of his cock brushing your folds.

“Aaron,” you shake your head, “I need you.”

“Where do you need me?” his voice barely above a rasp. He rips your hand from him, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He presses another kiss to your skittering heartbeat.

“I need you to fuck me—” you gasp, as his teeth scrape against your neck, pressing soft kisses against its length, before sucking a pretty bruise against the hollow of your throat, “please.”

He sinks into you then, sliding into your warmth, murmuring in your ear. Your mouth falls open, “Even after all this time, you take me so well,” his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, “I love you.”

His name is a prayer, his touch is your salvation, as his nails dig crescents into the curve of your hips, “Missed you so much—” his own snap against you harder, deeper, “needed you so bad. I love you. I love you.”

“I want to feel you cum for me, sweetheart,” his fingers skim your clit, and that’s it. You come apart underneath him, veins no longer filled with blood, but with pleasure. His hips stutter as your muscles flutter around his cock, still fucking you through your orgasm, as his fingers make you jump against him, “Say my name,” he growls, as your arms wind around his shoulder, tugging him closer, closer, closer, “say it.”

And you do, just as he cums inside of you with a groan of your name in your ear, nearly collapsing on you. He presses into you, and it’s much too warm, the sticky heat and smell of sex pervades, but you don’t care. Still you tug him closer, chest to chest, as your eyes shut. You feel him come down from his high, his breath slowing. He pulls himself out, and your body mourns his absence. He curls up beside you for a moment, his finger drawing absentminded circles on your thigh. You look at him, a smile pulling at your lips as you find him staring at you. And you press kisses to him — to his shoulder and neck, your fingers sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

But his gaze still persists, “What?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing his jaw, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your fingertips.

“Should I keep the beard?” and you laugh, shaking your head, as you lay back on the pillow.

“I think you should do whatever you want to do,” and he kisses you again, full and warm and happy, “and I think you should definitely take Jack’s opinion into mind.”

He raises a brow, a smile on his lips, “Will you still make it worth my while?”

You roll your eyes, fingers cupping his cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “I will always make it worth your while.”

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x reader #hotch imagines #hotch smut

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skyeet-the-writer · 4 years ago

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Can you write a corpse x reader when she finds out she's pregnant and she's playing among us and she imposter with corpse and she kill someone and someone sees and reports it right away she get all nauseous and let's it slip to everyone while she go to throw up and corpse doesn't know what to do but he's excited to be a dad. You can change it up and add thing if you want, I was writing everything down, sorry if this is weird.

And If You Wanna Stay … Please Stay

yes finally a pregnant request! also, i’m gonna be waiting to get the triggered pro-life people in my asks and DMs about how ‘iT’s A LiViNg BeInG”. like what’s the baby gonna do? tell it’s mom??

corpse x female!reader

summary: when the reader gets morning sickness during an Among Us game, Corpse and her expect the worst. And they get it.

word count: ~4.8k

warnings: swearing, vomiting, mentions of abortions, mentions of being pregnant, a little bit of suggestive content near the end but nothing happens

He’s finally asleep, you think to yourself as you watch your boyfriend’s chest rise and fall. He needed it.

Recently, Corpse has had trouble sleeping for more than three hours. You two had tried everything you could think of. You had tried staying up late to get him tired, you tried subliminals and music to get him to sleep. You even tried to give him a massage one time, but that led to other things.

You look over at the drawn curtains and pull them back a little. There, on the window, you have tin foil covering them. It’s a trick you learned from your dad when you were younger. When he worked night shifts, he had to sleep during the day, and he had trouble sleeping since your parent’s room had thin curtains. And so your father taped tin foil to all of the windows in their room so that he could sleep.

You’re not exactly sure why this seemed to work for Corpse, but you’re certainly not complaining. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. He doesn’t look stressed, he doesn’t look sad. He looks so calm.

You lean forward and peck his nose. His breathing stutters and his nose wrinkles. You giggle and slowly, he opens his eyes. He blinks a few times and his brown eyes look around the room before settling on your face. He grins and your smile widens.

“That’s a pretty face to wake up to,” he mumbles and his morning voice makes you blush. “Oh my god, you’re already blushing.”

You blush even harder and bury your face in his neck. He laughs and hugs you around your waist. “Don’t make fun of me, asshole.”

He kisses your hair. “Morning, baby.”

“Good morning,” you mumble into his skin. You pull away so that you’re only a few inches apart. He leans forward and nuzzles your nose against his. Instead of kissing in the morning--you can’t handle his morning breath--you nuzzle your noses together.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask after you two pull away.

He smiles. “Really good, actually.” He chuckles and looks up at the window. “I guess the foil worked.”

You laugh and sit up. You’ve been awake for a little while and your stomach growls. “You hungry, babe?”

He nods and sits up as well, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out. “Can we have pancakes?”

“You can eat those, right?” you ask. You stand up out of bed and walk to the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing behind you.

“Yeah,” you hear him say. “Even if I couldn’t, I’d still want to eat them because you make really good pancakes.”

You smile. “Really? Thanks, babe.”

You get out the ingredients to make the pancakes when Corpse announces that he’s going to take a shower. You give him a kiss on his cheek and notice it’s a little scratchy. You grab his chin suddenly and he blinks at you as you run a thumb against his cheekbone.

“Want me to shave?” he asks softly.

You shrug. “If you want.”

He grabs your hand and presses his lips against your finger. He gives you a sweet little smile. “I’ll shave.” He squeezes your hand before walking back to your room.

After mixing all of the ingredients, you drop a few droplets onto the buttered up griddle. When it sizzles, you pour two medium-sized pancakes before going to search for the spatula.

When you find it in the dishwasher, you flip both of the pancakes and grin. They’re both perfect. You notice it’s quiet in the kitchen and call out, “Alexa.” You hear her go off in the living room. “Play some fall lofi.”

“Playing ‘Midnight Lofi - Fall Vibes’.

”You smile when it starts to come from the living room. It’s a little quiet, so you say, “Turn it up.”

The music starts to play a little louder and you smile more. It’s so aesthetically pleasing, lofi music. It’s probably one of your favorite music genres. Before you moved in with Corpse, you had to listen to something and you eventually began to fall asleep to lofi. But now that you’ve been living with him for almost a year, you don’t listen to it as much. Usually when you’re cleaning the house or playing music when you study for school.

You cook a few more pancakes and when you’re putting them on a plate, you have an idea. Corpse can’t eat chocolate because of his health, but you can. And you usually have a secret stash of chocolate in the back of the pantry. You’ve been craving chocolate a lot for the past week which is weird because your monthly hasn’t started yet even though it should have a few days ago. But you don’t dwell on that thought and pull up a chair from the small island and stand on top of it to reach the very back of the pantry. Your fingers skim the edge of the chocolate chip bag and you grab it between your middle and index finger. You grin at it and go to hop off of the chair when suddenly--

“What are you doing?”

You yell and you almost slip off the chair. Luckily, you land on your feet and wobble. You look up at your boyfriend when you regain your balance. He’s smirking and looking between you and the bag in your hand.

“Chocolate,” you tell him, making your way back to the griddle like nothing happened. “You know, just because you can’t eat it doesn’t mean I have to suffer with you.”

He laughs and leans on the counter next to you. “I know you have a stash, y/n.”

You look at him with wide eyes, stopping in your tracks. “You do?”

He nods. “Yep. I knew since the first month you moved in. You’re bad at hiding it, you know.”

You blink at him before shrugging, walking over to the griddle. “Well, you’re not allowed to have any.” You stick your tongue out at him and sprinkle the mini chocolate chips into the remaining batter. There are enough pancakes for Corpse, so you’ll just cook up the rest for yourself.

Usually, you and Corpse don’t wake up until after breakfast time since you have a habit of sleeping in. But when you can wake up early enough for breakfast, you both like to sit out at the small balcony and eat together.

“What are we doing today?” you ask Corpse, sitting across from him at the small metal table.

There’s a breeze and it ruffles his hair. “I was gonna stream Among Us later. You can play, too. My fans love you.” He smiles and looks down at his plate.

“As they should.” You flip your hair and the two of you laugh. “Yeah, I can play for a little while. I’ve got classes to do and a paper due tomorrow, though.” While Corpse is a Youtuber and a streamer, you’re a college student taking classes at San Diego State University, trying to get your major in anthropology and a minor in Spanish and engineering. “God, I have a test at the end of the week, babe. I’m gonna fail it,” you mutter, putting your face in your hands.

“What’s it in?”

“Spanish,” you tell him, pushing a blueberry with your fork.

He gives you a stare. “Babe, I’m literally half Mexican.” He laughs.

You throw the blueberry at his head and it bounces off onto the floor. “Shut up, stop making fun of me!”

He grins. “I can tell you the answers as you take the test. It’s online, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, I chose all online classes this year. I mean, you could. But that’s cheating.” You flip a piece of your pancake over. “And I don’t wanna cheat. I cheated all the way through high school. I want college to be different.”

Corpse grabs your hand and you look up at him. He’s smiling at you. “You’re smart, baby. You’re gonna do fine. You’re gonna get your degrees and you’re gonna be the best... what are you studying again?”

“Anthropology,” you tell him quietly.

“You’re gonna be the best anthropologist ever.”

You crack a small smile. “Do you even know what an anthropologist is?”

“No.”

You laugh and that gets him to smile. You lean across the table and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s a little sticky and sweet because of the syrup, but you’re not complaining.

Later that morning, after taking a shower while Corpse cleans breakfast up, Corpse says that he’s going to stream and you come and join him. There’s a monitor across from his that you use from time to time and a headset as well.

Your boyfriend sends you the code for the Discord and the Among Us game. Corpse looks at you from across the desks and you smile. He grins back and your stomach churns. You blink and wince at the feeling. You’ve been feeling nauseated for a few days now and you don’t want to get sick during a stream.

“Hi Corpse,” someone says as you load into the waiting room. You look back at the screen as someone gasps. “y/n! Best friend!”

It’s Sean and you laugh. “Hi, Sean.”

“y/n!” exclaims someone else and you realize that it’s Lily.

“I thought I was your best friend, Jack!” says Sykkuno and he sounds hurt.

You smile and move your character to the customization. You choose yellow and choose the leaf hat. Since your gamer tag is “lemon” you always try and be a lemon.

“Aw, y/n’s a lemon,” says Dave.

You laugh and run circles around him. “Hi, Dave.”

You hear him laugh and Corpse chuckles in front of you. You look at him and be flashes you a smile.

The round starts and the red “IMPOSTER” text lights up your screen. You’re paired up with Felix. You haven’t been the imposter with Felix too often, so you don’t know what to expect. You mute your headset and head down to storage to fake wires before going to fake another task.

You’re standing in the electrical room pretending to download data when Sykkuno walks in. You pull up the sabotage map and close the door before killing him and venting. You come out in the medbay and head over to the cafeteria.

When a body is reported, it’s Lily’s. You unmute yourself and bite your thumbnail as your stomach churns even more. You’re starting to get worried that you’re going to get sick.

“I found Lily in admin,” says Sean. “And I didn’t see anyone around.”

“Sykkuno is dead, too,” Julien points out.

“Oh shit,” you mutter and hold a hand over your mouth. You try to keep the bile from rising while everyone talks and you don’t bother to listen. You do hear someone say that they’re going to skip voting and you do the same.

When no one is ejected, you mute your mic once again and go to follow Corpse down to the shields. You stand beside him while he does his task. Sorry, babe, you think and kill him just as your kill cooldown reaches zero.

You smirk and run away in the opposite direction and you can feel him staring at you. You glance up at him and your smile widens. “What?”

He just shakes his head and you laugh.

You meet up with Dave and follow him around and fake wires with him. At one point, you and he cross paths with Felix and Toast. You may not know Felix too well, but any good imposter knows to go for a double kill. So as you run by each other in the cafeteria, you close the door and both you and Felix kill who you were with before venting away.

By the time you’re out of the vent and running away from admin, Dave’s body is reported. Your stomach feels awful now and you’re almost certain you’re going to throw up in the next thirty seconds.

“Fuck.” You unmute your mic. “It was me, I killed Dave. I’m the imposter. I’ll be right back.” You practically throw your headset off and run for the bathroom.

Corpse watches you practically run out of the room. For a second, he’s not sure what to do. Should he go after you? But he’s in the middle of streaming.

“y/n?” Sean asks. “Corpse, where’d she go?”

“Is she okay?” Julien wonders.

He nods even though no one can see him. “Y—yeah. I’m gonna go check on her. I’ll be right back.” He mutes his mic and takes his headphones off before leaving the room to go check on you.

He finds you on the tiled bathroom floor vomiting into the toilet. He curses and kneels behind you, pulling your hair back.

When you finish, he says, “This is the third time this week you’ve gotten sick, baby.”

You groan and lean your head on your arm. “I know. I don’t know why. Well, I—“ You cut yourself off and go still as if you suddenly had a realization.

Corpse tilts his head. “What is it?”

It takes you a few long moments to respond. “…My period is late. And I’m getting morning sickness. Plus I’ve been moody.” You turn back to look at him and he can tell you’re about to cry. “Corpse.”

You don’t need to say anything else. He’s already standing up, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach and his shaking hands. “I’ll go get you some tests.”

You grab his hand. “Corpse, no! I’ll go.”

He shakes his head and gets on his knees in front of you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

Your lip quivers. “You don’t have to do this. I know how much you don’t like going outside. Really, it’s not a big deal, I can go get some.”

But then he kisses your forehead. “y/n, it’s okay. You need to rest. I won’t be out for very long.” He stands up after squeezing your hands. “I’ll be back in, like, twenty minutes.”

Before you can do anything to stop him, he turns around and goes to grab his mask and his wallet before grabbing your car keys. He doesn’t like to drive, but you’re worried and driving is quicker. And right now you’re the most important thing for him to be thinking about.

When Corpse leaves, you sigh and stay sitting on the floor for a few more minutes while your stomach settles itself. Afterward, you get up and brush your teeth after flushing the toilet. Deciding to get some school work done, you grab your laptop and head to the living room.

When you pass by his recording room, however, you see his monitor still on. You curse and head inside. He’s still streaming. You sit down and put his headset on and unmute his mic. “Hey, guys.”

You glance at the exploding chat as Sean asks, “y/n? Where’s Corpse? Are you okay?”

I’m probably pregnant. “Uh, I’m kind of sick, so Corpse went out to get me some, uh, stuff. Sorry, but we gotta go. Uh, it was fun streaming.”

“Okay,” says Sykkuno. “I hope you feel better, y/n.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Bye, guys.” You leave the chat and close the game before looking at Corpse’s stream chat. “Sorry about this, guys. I had fun streaming, though, I’m sure Corse did too. Have a good day.” You smile even though they can’t see you before ending the stream. You go over to your monitor and leave the game and chat in your own game. You lean back in your chair and press your hands in your eyelids.

You want to cry. You want to scream. You can’t be pregnant. You’re still a kid, you haven’t completed college yet. You and Corpse aren’t even married.

You suck in a shaky breath and wipe your damp eyes. “I’m probably not pregnant,” you whisper and stand up to go into the living room. “I probably just ate something bad. Yeah, that’s it.”

You sit in the living room on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders, trying to focus on your schoolwork. But you can’t. Your mind is too overwhelmed with the possibilities. You hope Corpse is okay. You know how much he hates going outside and being around other people.

You turn back to look at the lecture your professor posted and sigh. You just need to relax and calm down. Just wait until Corpse gets back and focus on schoolwork until then.

It takes a while, but he does come back. Some small voice in your head thought that he wasn’t going to come back, but you quickly pushed it away. Corpse loves you and he’d never leave you.

The front door opens and you look up from the paper you’re in the middle of typing. You meet him in the hallway where he’s taking his mask off, a plastic bag in his hand. He meets your eyes and cups your face in one hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Your chin wobbles and you shake your head. Tears form in the edges of your eyes and you suck in a deep breath. “Did you get some tests?”

He nods hand hands the bag to you. But before you can take them, he grabs your wrist. “Hey. I’m not leaving, y/n.”

You nod before taking the bag from him and quickly walking to the bathroom. You’re scared to say anything because you know that if you do, you’ll start to cry.

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bathroom floor with Corpse, leaning into his side as he rubs your shoulder. There are three tests on the counter and your boyfriend has a timer running on his phone for five minutes. So far, three minutes have passed. To you, they’ve felt like a lifetime.

“Are you okay?” Corpse asks quietly, finally breaking the silence.

You shrug, not entirely sure how you feel. “I don’t know. I’m scared.” You glance down at your stomach and place a hand on your naval. “If I am pregnant, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m young.” You look at him. “We’re young. I’m still in college. I can’t afford to have a kid!”

“I know.” He draws you closer to your shoulder. “But whatever you decide to do, I’m going to support you. And I’m not going to leave you, either. In case you were worried about that.”

Even though you shouldn’t have been, you were.

Luckily, Corpse changes the subject, going on to say, “I’ve been working on another song.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s kind of a lofi type song. I can show you the lyrics, later, if you want.”

You smile a little and look up at him, staring into his shining, dark eyes. “I’d like that.”

He smiles back and leans down to give you a small kiss. When you pull away, his phone rings, signaling that the timer is done. He turns his phone off and you stand up, walking towards the counter where the tests are. You pick one up.

One line.

You let out a breath of relief and turn to Corpse where he’s leaning on the sink. “Negative.”

He smiles a little. “What about the other two?”

You look back down at the other two tests. You pick one up and your heart drops. Two lines. You swallow and gently place it down as your hands begin to shake. Maybe that one is a false positive. There’s still another one. Whatever this one says will probably determine if you’re pregnant or not.

And so you pick it up. And you smack a hand over your mouth when you see two lines. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant. The test falls from your hands and you fall to your knees, tears streaming down your face.

“Baby, what did it say?” Corpse asks, coming to your side and trying to coax your face into his hand. “Babe?”

“I don’t want a baby!” you exclaim through your tears. “I can’t handle that. I’m too young, I’m not ready. We’re not ready.” You lean into his arms as he pulls you towards him. “Corpse, I don’t want it.”

He nods and you feel him run his fingers through your hair. “It’s your decision, babe. It’s your choice. And I’m gonna support you either way if you want to keep it or not. If you do decide to keep it, then we’ll figure something out. If not, I’ll drive you there and get you In-N-Out or something.”

That gets you to laugh as you tighten your arms around him. “You’ll really buy me food?”

“Yes. I’d do anything for you.”

Your stomach churns that night as you’re scheduling an appointment to get rid of the clump of cells in your body. You’re nervous and Corpse was sweet enough to order you whatever you want for dinner.

You get off the phone as Corpse grabs the food from the delivery person and walks into the kitchen. He looks at you as he places the bags down on the counter. “So?”

You swallow and lean on the counter. “My appointment is in a couple of days.”

He nods and approaches you, placing his hands on your hips and drawing you to his chest. “It’s going to be okay, love.”

You lean your head on his chest. “Am I a bad person?”

“Of course not. It’s your body. You can do whatever you want with it. And besides, it’s not like it’s living anyway.”

You giggle as you try not to cry again. “What’s the baby gonna do? Remember it?”

Corpse laughs his deep and rumbly laugh and you grin. “True. But I seriously will buy you In-N-Out if you want. Or McDonald’s.”

You laugh again and tighten your arms around him. “Okay. And, Corpse?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for being so supportive of wanting to get rid of it.”

He kisses your head. “Don’t thank me.”

When you and Corpse are laying in bed after watching a true-crime documentary, he’s gently dragging his nails up and down your back as you’re nestled into his chest. The tinfoil is still on the windows and it makes the room even darker. Which is actually the entire point.

Something had been rattling around in your head for the past few hours and you hadn’t gotten the courage to ask Corpse. But here, in the darkness of the bedroom the two of you share, you often ask each other stupid questions late at night when neither of you can fall asleep.

And it feels like it’s going to be another one of those nights because you’re wide-awake and you know Corpse is as well. And so you ask, “Do you ever want to have kids together?”

His hand abruptly stops dragging his nails on your back. “What?”

You regret asking him, but there’s no going back now. “When we’re older, would you ever want to have a family together?”

His hand begins to slowly go up and down your back once more. “Maybe. If you want to. If you want to have kids one day when we’re older, then I’ll definitely have kids with you.”

This makes you smile and you tighten your arms around his middle. “I love you, Corpse.”

“I love you, too.” He kisses your head. “Before we have kids, we should get married first.”

You grumble and say, “We’ll see who proposes first, then.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around your waist. “It’ll probably be you, baby. I’m too anxious.”

“Excuses, excuses,” you huff but the two of you laugh. “I’m too broke to afford a ring, though. You might have to settle with a Ring Pop.”

“If you propose to me with an onion ring and I would say yes.”

You giggle as something else comes to mind. “What about those cheap, plastic spider rings? Or the ones that come on cupcakes.”

Corpse laughs again and begins to scratch your back again. “If you do that, we would get married on the spot,” he says in that deep and gravely voice of his.

You grin. “I’m keeping that in mind.”

Corpse hums into your shoulder. “You’re not going to fall asleep anytime soon, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. Are you?”

“Nope.”

“What do you want to do?” you ask him, pulling away from him to look at his face through the darkness.

Even though you can’t see him too much, you know he’s smirking. “Well, there’s already a fetus in you. Want to see if we can get another one?”

You laugh and push his chest. “You’re disgusting, Corpse!”

He laughs and grabs your hands and lifts your arms up so he can roll on top of you. “Maybe. But it got you to laugh.”

You blush and turn your head to the side as he sits on top of you, holding your hands above your head. He starts to kiss down your neck and you sigh. “Corpse.”

He hums against your skin.

You bite your lip. “I’m not really in the mood, babe.”

Immediately, he stops what he was doing and lifts his head. “Okay. That’s fine, babe. It’s been a long day. Can we still cuddle, though?”

You nod and smile. “Of course. You can be the little spoon.”

“Yay!” he exclaims and climbs on top of you and rolls on his side. You get yourself situated behind him and throw one arm over his stomach and use the other one to play with his incredibly curly hair. Your legs get tangled together like they always do and you bury your fingers in his hair while he lets out a deep breath through his nose.

“Happy?” you ask him quietly and he nods. You squeeze his stomach with the arm you have there and kiss his head. “Okay. Try to sleep again, babe, okay?”

He nods, but both of you know you’re not going to fall asleep for a while. And that’s okay. You both sit there in the darkness talking about everything and nothing while you play with his hair and he holds the hand around his stomach with one of his hands. You don’t say anything else about you being pregnant or kids or how you want to get rid of it, and you’re glad. You don’t want to talk about it because you feel like a bad person for not wanting the baby.

Of course, you’re not going to change your mind. Neither you nor Corpse are ready for a child. But that small voice in your head tells you that you’re making the wrong choice or a bad decision.

But you don’t listen to it. You don’t listen to it that night while Corpse falls asleep again in your arms or when you’re in class the next day. Not even when you’re listening to a demo of Corpse’s new song in the car on the way to the clinic.

“It’s really good!” you exclaim as he parks in the parking lot. “I love it, babe.”

He smiles at you before glancing at the clinic. “Want me to go with you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. It'll take little while, though. So you can go do something else if you want to.”

He nods and leans in to give you a kiss. “Okay. I love you. Text me if anything goes wrong at all, okay?”

You laugh gently and nod. “Okay, I will.”

“Love you,” he tells you again as you’re putting your mask on.

You pull it down and smile at him softly. “You already said that, babe.”

He blushes and looks away. “O--oh. Sorry.”

You just kiss his cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll be back.” You pull your mask back up and gather your things before getting out of the car. You wave to him and then make your way into the clinic.

And Corpse did stay true to his words about getting you In-N-Out after your appointment. He even paid for it and got you a milkshake, too.

That night, after finally dragging Corpse away from his computer so he’ll at least try to fall asleep with you, you begin to think. You feel better after your appointment. Before, you were incredibly stressed out and even a little depressed. But afterward, you felt so much better. You felt like you could breathe and no have to worry about throwing up or eating the wrong thing.

And you didn’t regret getting an abortion. You and Corpse both knew neither of you are ready for one and that’s okay. You’re both still young and still new to being together. But as Corpse hums some song against your neck with his nose buried in the skin there, you feel the vibrations from his throat against your shoulder. You sigh happily and push a hand into his hair and gently scratch at his scalp. You feel him smile against your neck and you can’t help but mimic it.

Yeah. You and Corpse aren’t ready for kids. But maybe you will be one day.

---------------------

I’m sorry, but the tag list is closed. It’s just too stressful for me to keep adding them. I’m sorry, guys. Also sorry to everyone who messaged me to add them because I didn’t write them down and can’t access my messages now. Still love you guys! x.

@honeysuger @chubby-dumpling @polahorvat @annshit @simonsbluee @dad-ee-drea @save-the-sky @wibblytimey @thegirlwholikestomanythings @yagorlnessa @alilshit @majolittlemixgurl18 @the-bunny-anon @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @loraleiix @artist-bby @ellomellows @pillowjj @matthew-gray-g @myherotrashbin @sunnsetteeee @lxdybyrd @cultofandom @anngelllla @tododokizuku @pachowpachowbucket @gaysludge @bethpiercwhy @marvelkatwoman @c0rpsew1fe @your-cherry-bomb @bi-andready-tocry @redosmo @gracehaileym @helena-way07 @nekomacam @fadingprunebagelfestival @fifiyau105 @easygoingtheatre @satanwithagenda @gracehaileym @oumachii @mythicalreader @this-isnt-living-anymore @punkrainbows @kitsunedarian @crapimahuman @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @realnicoleworld @scarswideworld @bluewneptune @weeblyheaux @beebo-at-the-church @melmachh @abbiesthings @peterparkerspjsuit @mitchiesdungeon @theeerealpunkin @kaitlynw011 @bookoffracturedghosts @beebeomgyu @tooturntashbash @hughugh20 @spideys-gurl @reddeserths @heartbroken-writer @chimchimsugakookies @danny-devitowo @susceptible-but-siriusexual @moonnei @crystalbaby12 @cherry-pieee @girl-obsessed-with-things @sokkas-paintings @yobroitsjayden @boba-king-iroh @chouxfleur @bbecc-a @tayloryorkscurls @getdevils @nightly-daydreamer @beegobuzzbuzz @dxffxdils @mae-musicbitch @fangirlmisanthrope @bipolarbisexualdisaster @taliyahvermillion @unded-bride @kguerrero-23 @cold-deep-water @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @motheroffae @jokenotfunny @yongboxerrr @theolwebshooter @hawkssnugget @yoyoanaria @babyhoneystvles @rjwinterfell @simp-for-corpse @benjaminka @sailor-earth-1 @mmimozaa @zirvel @bombardia @parkchaeyoung1997 @tetsuluvbot @killuaz0ldick @xibrokensunriseix@fuckbuckyyy @luv-buggie @moneybagmara @betabeta0031 @adorkably @angelic-blxssom @littlebabysandboxburritos @thebriarpatch @i-have-arrived-bitch @alexandrium

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #corpse_husband #corpse_husband x reader #oneshot #x reader #angst #fluff

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 4 years ago

Text

The room where it happened. 10x03 and 15x18

(Sorry for the title, I had to.)

No one afaik has said anything about it yet but I have been mentally screaming about it since I saw the episode and you all need to scream with me about the room where the scene happened.

And also how the scene was filmed. At the beginning, while Dean says that he ruined everything because he’s full of anger and the only thing he knows is to kill, the chair is positioned between the two of them. In fact, it’s filmed in a way so that the chair is clearly visible and oddly (well, oddly only if you don’t know what it means) emphasized by the direction and how Jensen touches it and leans on it.

After Dean makes his hopeless speech, Dean walks in front of the chair (again, Jensen’s acting emphasizes the movement in relation to the chair)

so, when Cas confesses his feelings, the chair is no longer between them. Nothing is between them.

Many things happened in that room and multiple characters sat on that chair, but the most iconic and emotionally heavy thing that happened in that room, well, we all know it.

The chair represents Demon Dean and what that represented. The chair represents the trauma and the fear and the anger. The obstacles. It’s not a coincidence that when Dean expresses his feelings of self-loathing and hopelessness the chair stands between them, and when Cas tells Dean how he sees him and how he feels for him the chair isn’t between them anymore. Of course it’s not complete yet, but they have progressed, Dean has finally heard something he needed so badly to hear. The very thing he needed to hear. They’re on the path to healing.

The chair is there, of course, in the middle of the room. The elephant in the room except it’s not an elephant but a chair, I guess. But it’s empty and Dean is able to step in front of it and get closer to Cas and hear what Cas has to say.

The trauma is there, but it’s an empty chair. And it’s possible to step around it and get closer to love.

But I want to say something more about 10x03 and 15x18.

Compare these moments.

This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.

Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The new real me - the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something - guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.

It’s you, Dean. It’s always been you. Death-defying, rule-breaking. You are everything I lived to set right. To put down. To tame. You are human disorder incarnate.

It’s almost like someone wrote the script for 15x18 with 10x03 open on his desk, right? Let’s continue.

There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.

Oh, I will bring him back.

In fact, your uh... guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been MIA for quite some time now. But I’m loving the new model: lean, mean, Dean.

Right.

You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just... tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since... [Dean laughs.] Forever. Or maybe... Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!

This isn’t my brother talking.

You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit.

No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!

Well, then, we got nothin’.

Would you say that to Dad?

Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!

and

I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You’re destructive and you’re angry and you’re broken. You’re-you’re “daddy’s blunt instrument”."And you think that hate and anger, that’s-that’s what drives you. That’s who you are. It’s not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You’re the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.

Let’s also look at Cas in the episode

You say you’re fine, but you don’t... look fine.

It’s what the humans do. They say they’re fine. And even if I-I don’t look it, you say I look well, and that way, we avoid talking about something we can do nothing about.

Oh boi, we’ve gone so far from “we don’t speak about things we can’t do anything about”. (Well, he thinks he can’t do anything about his feelings for Dean, but still.)

Look at this line from Hannah

What about helping your friend? And sending the rogue angels back to Heaven? Your preference to die for your principles, it’s very noble, but it is meaningless.

Thank you, it hurts! It was never about principles. It was about love. And love is never meaningless. It’s the only thing that is not meaningless. It’s the only thing that really matters, and, in fact, the only thing that is truly real in the universe.

And of course the most important line in the episode:

What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.

Well... I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but... also such profound pain. This is easier.

Only humans can feel real joy, but also profound pain.

I always wondered since I took that burden, that curse, what it could be. What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want... it’s something I know I can’t have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just being... it’s in just saying it.

[...]

You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.

I’m fine.

To conclude this - of course, 10x03 was also one step of the big misunderstanding between Dean and Cas. Cas eventually leaves saying something vague about a famale companion that makes Dean think he’s leaving him for a woman that is more important than he is.

While one of the scenes with Crowley in hell subtly drops the other side of the misunderstanding - a demon tries to get in Crowley’s good graces by offering to be Dean’s replacement for him with these words:

I, too, love to party. And I do love the ladies. And the classic rock-and-roll. Most importantly, I could debauch by your side without being a personal embarrassment.

That was to emphasize how those weren’t the relevant things about Dean that Crowley, or anyone, cared about. Thus, those aren’t the relevant things about Dean. Those are some things that are true about Dean, but that’s not Dean.

It’s been a very long journey, and we’re seeing the fruits of a very long work.

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn 15x08 #spn 10x03 #destiel #spn

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adhdeancas · 4 years ago

Note

if you're still taking requests he/they nonbinary sam and he/him trans man dean and 'i could not care less about pronouns' agender cas all being happy in the bunker when jack comes out to them as trans?

Love this

and since you didn’t specify, I’m going to go with Jack comes out as nonbinary? Since that’s the general knowledge of his gender

(now part ten of my transnatural series,)

It starts at breakfast. Sam is tasked with making breakfast, since Dean and Cas spent all night watching every Rocky movie ever made, even the bad ones, and definitely including the Creeds. Thus, Dean is slumped over against Cas who is barely upright themself and they are both forbidden from operating near any hot surfaces. Dean already spilled coffee down his shirt so he is now shirtless and careful when he brings the mug to his mouth.

Jack comes into the kitchen bright eyed and bushy tailed as always, the smell of turkey bacon making him smile wider. “Good morning!”

“Morning, Jack,” Sam grins back at him. Dean grunts.

Cas offers a small smile and, “Hello, Jack.”

“Hello.” he turns to Sam. “What’s wrong with them?”

Dean’s too tired to even complain about being talked about like he’s not right in front of the kid. “Late night. Don’t worry, they’ll perk up later.” Cas raises an eyebrow skeptically. “After breakfast. And a nap. And maybe some adderall.”

Dean snorts at the joke but Jack doesn’t get it. He moves on anyway, unbothered as always. “Well, I was hoping I could call for A Family Meeting,” he announces proudly. The resulting silence is not exactly stunned but definitely confused.

“A what?” Dean picks his head off of Cas’s shoulder, leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

“A family meeting. Maybe tonight, at dinner. I have something I want to discuss with you all.”

Sam and Dean make eye contact over Jack’s shoulder, both their heartbeats picking up at the formal announcement. In their experience, in human experience, a big Talk is never good. Cas notices their tension and pushes himself up so she can go to lay a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “That sounds wonderful, Jack. Although if there’s anything wrong, we can help now.” It’s both for the sanity of the adults of the room and for Jack’s problem, whatever it may be.

Jack shakes his head with a smile. “No, that’s okay. I have to take a shower!” He’s out of the room without another word.

Cas reaches across the counter to steal Sam’s mug (a mug Eileen got him that says “I love you more than Wifir”) and gulp down coffee, his own and Dean’s mug a whole six feet away. Sam waves a hand in exasperation before trying to steal it back, which leads to a staring contest with both of their hands on the mug. Sam wins by licking Cas’s hand and making him let go, a move which earns them a laugh from Dean, who taught him that move.

The rest of the day is spent in relative quiet; Cas and Dean do go off to take a nap but they decide to take one outdoors because as Cas says “humans were meant to spend time in the sun every once in a while” and as Dean says “Cas wants to punish me for getting old by sleeping on the fucking ground after not-sleeping on a fucking couch.” Sam video chats with Eileen for a few minutes while she’s at a truck stop; she’s on her way to them after a hunt in Wyoming (which Dean demanded pictures of, he doesn’t think the state exists. It’s the only one in the contiguous US that they’ve never been to). Then he spends the rest of the day pouring over one ridiculously complicated spell that Rowena has assured him is worth the effort (it’s a surprise) but which has to be watched over for several days before it’s ready. It feels like a magic game of jack-in-the-box (no pun intended) to him. Jack spends his day in town with some of his townie friends, and they all miraculously manage to make it home in one piece this time.

Still, by the time dinner rolls around, Dean’s dragged himself away enough to put aloe on his new sunburn, his lack of shirt making his freckles and top surgery scars the only breaks in light pink from waist up, and start making tacos and fried potatoes.

They’re all seated around the table, Dean and Sam getting nervous despite Jack’s reassurances that the Meeting is nothing bad. “What the hell could he have to tell us? We’re literally around him all the time.”

Sam shrugs and wipes their hands off on their pants again. “I dunno, maybe…” he tries to think of anything it could be, but with Jack’s 22-but-also-three-year-old thing going on, he has no idea what to expect. Cas comes back from fetching Jack, the kid in question smiling like a doofus.

Cas sits down with Jack across from the brothers, one of their arms on his shoulder for support. “Okay, Jack, go right ahead with whatever you want to tell us.”

“And hurry up, because the food’s getting cold.” Dean says, more out of anxiety for this to be over with than concern about the food. Sam elbows him anyway.

Jack pops a potato in his mouth first with a grin. Dean rolls his eyes. “These are very good. Okay, so! Remember how we talked about human conceptions of gender?”

They all nod. The conversation had been a memorable one, confusing both Sam and Dean when they got into the more complicated aspects of what gender actually means. In the end, they’d explained pronouns and dysphoria and told Jack that he could be whatever he wanted to be.

“Well, I don’t think I’m a boy!” he says it like it’s a grand reveal at a party, which, to him, it is. They blink around the table, Sam smiling gently to encourage him to continue, Cas tilting his head and waiting for more information, and Dean squeezing his arm over the food.

“That’s awesome, kid, what are ya?”

“I think I’m like Sam. Nonbinary?” he looks at Sam for clarification, and Sam nods.

“Not a girl, not a boy, somewhere in between or outside?”

“I think I’m in between.” Jack says thoughtfully. He looks to Cas. “It seems strange, to identify with human gender since I’m only half-human, but…” it’s like he’s looking to his angelic dad for reassurance that it’s alright.

Cas grins. “Well, you’re only half-angel as well. I think you decide.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean asks, trying to seem casual. If it was him coming out right now, he’d be three seconds from heading for the door at any question, but… Jack’s not him. Jack wasn’t raised the same way.

“Hm, I don’t know what there is to talk about really. I mean, I thought about it, and gender doesn’t really make sense to me, like Cas, so I thought I might have no gender for a while. But I also like the feeling of it sometimes? So then I thought about whether I was like Dean and I knew it wasn’t that, but I’m not like Mary either.”

Cas, Sam, and Dean look around at each other quickly, their pride barely contained. “Well, that’s awesome, Jack.”

“Yeah! We’re gender buddies! Matching gender!” Sam laughs and nods, their hair falling into their eyes, which covers up how wet they are.

“Does anything make you uncomfortable? Any term or word or clothing?”

Jack looks at Cas with that head-tilt he’d picked up from them. “I like the word them for pronouns. I like how it sounds. Also I wanted to do something with history since I don’t have like… a lot of history.” they look momentarily sad. “I thought about doing xe and xem for a while but I kept forgetting.” they laugh.

“No problem, kid. Is Jack still okay?”

“Yes.” they say confidently. “My mother gave me that name and we knew each other well. She knew it fits.”

“Cool.” Dean nods, out of questions. Sam jumps in.

“We’re really glad you told us this, Jack.”

Cas nods and pulls him into a hug. “We’re really proud of you.”

“We love you a lot, kid.” Dean’s voice breaks in the middle of the sentence, and Sam reaches over to squeeze his shoulder.

Jack hears the change in tone and looks up, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine,”

Jack looks over and realizes Sam is sniffling too, and Cas looks like he’s about to burst with the emotions on his face. “Is this about the stuff you told me- that some people don’t like it when you’re not a boy or girl or when you change?”

Sam nods. “We’re just glad you know that’s not us, bud.”

“Well of course not. You’re my parents.” They’re suddenly taken over by a group hug, Sam and Dean come over to pile on top of them and Cas. They let the confusion of outsider ignorance roll off their back and revel in the love they have right here at home. After a few moments, their muffled voice says quietly, “Um, dads? The food is getting cold.”

And the spell is broken. It’s a normal family dinner.

#thedropoutthejunkieandmrcomatose #prompt #transnatural #nonbinary jack #trans dean #ftm dean #agender castiel #nonbinary sam #my writing

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merakiaes · 4 years ago

Text

The One For Me - Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Requested: By @nuvoleincielo

Prompts: #16, #30 and #63 from the fluff-list.

Warnings/notes: This is my first time writing for Hotch and Criminal Minds in general so please be patient while I get used to these new characters, might be slight OOC😭 It’s also the first piece I’ve written in a few months now and I’m a bit rusty, so please let me know what you think. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Send in more requests for Hotch, Reid and Morgan and let me know if you want to be added to the Criminal Minds taglist! I hope you like it💕

Wordcount: 4118

Summary: Hotch has doubts about letting your relationship go further and you reassure him that he’s what you want.

After being raised in one of New York’s worst, most crime ridden and low poverty neighborhoods by a family who was constantly targeted by the law enforcement, the last thing you’d expect was that you would become an active worker of said law enforcement.

Your mother died ten minutes after giving birth to you and your father had never been a part of the equation, most likely having ran the second he found out your mother had gotten pregnant. With no other immediate family, you ended up in the system, where you were stuck for the first seven years of your life.

You jumped back and forth between families of all kinds but for reasons unknown, no one wanted to keep you. It wasn’t until a couple adopted you two days before your eight birthday that you finally felt like you belonged.

They had many children of their own as well as more foster children, all between the ages of ten and twenty-five at the time of your adoption. On top of that, the children had children of their own and aunts, uncles, cousins and friends stayed with you more often than not as they struggled to hold on to homes of their own.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to live, a dozen people staying under the same roof of a two bedroom house, but you had dinner on the table every evening and the love for family was strong, so despite the conditions you lived in and the struggles you were forced to face on a daily basis, you guessed you couldn’t complain; you’d had it better than most.

The people who lived in those parts were always getting pinned for various kinds of crimes, just so the police could get it out of their hands and go on about their lives.

The male members of your family and the company they kept were some of the biggest targets even though they rarely did anything wrong, but despite the injustices they faced every day, they remained respectful when staring in the face of a cop.

You, on the other hand, despised them. You were an outspoken little girl, too feisty for your own good and on more occasions than one, you’d ended up pissing off some rich kid in school for which your dad and uncles were forced to pay the price.

You’d always hated the injustice the less fortunate suffered every day, but it wasn’t until you witnessed your first murder at fifteen that your interest of making the world a better place really piqued.

The victim had been one of the boys living in your neighborhood. He was two years older than you and he always gave it his all to make something out of himself. He walked with you and your younger brothers and cousins to school every day to make sure you got there safely, studied hard, kept out of trouble and always remained respectful.

The only reason he died was because his skin was the wrong color in the eyes of the law and because he was born into a less fortunate neighborhood, and it was then your eyes truly opened to the police brutality and misuse of power plaguing your country.

You joined the police force when you were nineteen years old and you stayed there, on top of your game and determined to do it better than the bad ones, until you were twenty-one.

At that point, most of your family had passed away either out of old age, or simply from being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and your determination to help people was stronger than ever.

But even you, the tough little firecracker as your uncles had always called you, could only tolerate so much.

After two years on the force, you got tired of being undermined by your male co-workers and set out to step up your game, taking up studies of criminology and psychology among several other subjects.

You studied your ass off and was just barely able to get by with the money you had saved up over the years, and at twenty-four, you finally had your degrees and clearance to begin working in higher places.

Starting off in New York, you stayed there for six months before you were transferred to Quantico, Virginia, where you were recruited by the one and only Jason Gideon who had heard word of your talent in the field.

You had worked with the team for little over a year now and Jason, who had always acted as a kind of mentor and father figure for you, was gone, having left only a letter for you and Spencer each.

Taking his place was Aaron Hotchner, a fellow agent to which you hadn’t paid much personal attention before the departure of Gideon. But things changed when he left, a lot of things.

Hotch was fresh out of his divorce, moodier than ever and in a really bad mental state. He stayed in his office until the late hours of the night, sometimes even the early hours of the next morning, barely slept and often forgot to eat if he wasn’t reminded by his team members.

Everyone urged him to take some time off, to go home and get some sleep and to take care of himself, and although he always told them that he would, he never followed through.

Up until then, you still hadn’t spoken much with him except for when you were working on a case. You were just an agent and he was just your boss, there was nothing else to it. But you couldn’t just sit by and watch as he neglected himself, so you followed your team-mates’ example and approached him.

He dismissed you at first, like he had done everyone else who had tried to offer him their support. But as time passed by, in some miraculous way, you made him laugh, and as you continued your attempts on offering him your ear to listen, he opened up to you, and you grew to become more than just colleagues.

Your first and only date had been on your initiative. You invited him to dinner at your house during your weekend off, to which he agreed.

You cooked together and although it started off as kind of awkward – more from his side than yours – you ended up kissing later that night after having had a bit too much to drink, and fell asleep together on your couch while you were flicking through your childhood photo albums.

The next morning, he was gone. You had always been an extremely light sleeper so you found it strange that he had managed to slip off without alerting you and also having managed to wrap you up in a blanket before he left.

He didn’t leave without a word though. A note was neatly placed on the coffee table in front of you, on which he explained that he needed to pick up Jack and that he didn’t want to wake you, finishing it off with a thank you for the night before.

That was the first and last time you spent time together, just the two of you, but it wasn’t like it was intentional.

You wanted to do it again, to continue exploring the budding romance between the two of you and to see where you could take it, and although you knew nothing of his feelings, he wanted the same thing.

But work got very stressful; stressful to the point where you could never find a moment to talk to each other if it wasn’t in the presence of the entire team. But the spark between you wasn’t gone.

It was still there in the way he would let his hand hover above the small of your back when you were walking side by side and step in front of you if you were ever in danger, and in the way you would always take a second to ask how he and Jack was doing, if they were eating enough and getting enough sleep, whenever you were heading somewhere; no matter if the team was with you.

It was there in the way he would always encourage you to go on the less dangerous tasks while he took the ones that were more life-threatening and in the way he would always smile, the slightest of smiles, whenever you were exchanging jokes or sarcastic remarks with Morgan, or messing around with poor, clueless Reid.

It was there, but it was unspoken. At least until now.

The case you had been working on for the past two days was that of Gilbert Stratton; a serial killer who had targeted young women, killed them, drained them of their blood, and then proceeded to hang the bodies up by their feet in trees all around the city.

You had caught him just in time to save the last kidnapped girl and you had originally been the one assigned to question him, but Hotch had stepped in last minute after the man had made a crude comment about how ‘girls like you always tasted the best’.

You had attempted to tell him that you could take it, but before you had even been given a chance to state your case, he had shut the door in your face and you had been whisked off by JJ.

You were the one out of the entire team who was the most interested in the psychology of a serial killer so you really wanted to be the one to interview Stratton, but you knew that Hotch had taken over for the sake of your safety and not because he underestimated you, so you couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad.

While he did his job, you settled at your desk with a sigh, getting to work on the heft stack of paperwork that had been building up throughout the week.

The first ten minutes you kept close track of the clock next to you, wondering why it was taking so long, but the more time that passed, the more focused you became.

Soon enough, you only had a few reports left and you had completely lost track of time, when there was a sudden bang behind you, sounding an awful lot like a door slamming shut.

And your suspicions were proven correct, when you looked up to see Hotch march straight the bullpen.

The corners of your lips tugged up at the sight of him, but the arising smile quickly fell again when he walked right past you, without even an acknowledging glance, heading into his office and shutting himself inside without as much of a word to anyone.

Left behind with dumbstruck looks on their faces were the team, glances of bewilderment being exchanged.

“What happened?” Reid asked the question you were all thinking after a moment of silence, just as Emily walked in from the interrogation room.

Rather than answering Reid’s question, she looked right at you, offering you a small, comforting smile. “I think you better go talk to him.” She said simply, and as confusion and anxiety bubbled up inside of you, you slowly drawled.

“Okaaay…”

They all watched you as you stood up from your seat, brushing down your shirt and turning off the lamp at your desk before heading for the stairs.

You could feel their eyes following your every move and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous of what you were about to walk into.

Everyone had gotten negatively affected by a case or unsub at some point during their career, most more than once. They were all very good at getting into your head, no matter how little you wanted to admit it. But you had never seen Hotch react this strongly to anything before. The only time you had really seen him snap was during one single case, right after Haley had filed for a divorce.

Still, you kept walking until you reached his closed office door, stopping only then to peek inside the blinded windows to see him sitting at his desk, hands rubbing over his face.

You knocked on the glass gently and in any other case he would have looked up and meet your gaze, but when his head kept hanging this time, you let yourself in, only when closing the door behind you cutting off the curious eyes of the others.

Once you were inside, you wasted no time in approaching Hotch where he sat by his desk, analyzing his every move which led you to only one question.

What the hell had Stratton said to him to make him this distraught?

He didn’t even look up as you reached him, keeping his eyes closed as you came to a stop beside his desk.

Treading carefully, you reached out and gently put your hand on his shoulder.

“What happened?” You asked softly, the sound of your words instantly bringing a long, heavy sigh out of his nose.

“Why are you doing this?” He wasted no time in replying, causing a crease to form between your eyebrows.

“What?” You asked back, confusion lacing your voice.

Finally, he brought his hands down from his face and slowly spun around in his chair, forcing you to drop your hand from his shoulder and to take a step back.

He stared up at you, face wiped free of emotion as always. But the eyes said it all.

“Why are you so adamant on being with me? Why do you try so hard?” He questioned you, taking you by surprise.

Your eyebrows shot up and your eyes grew slightly wider, and you took a moment to regain your composure after the, to say the least, unexpected question.

“What kind of question is that?” You asked once you finally regained your senses. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you want to be with someone? Try?”

One of your eyebrows sank again, leaving only one raised in question.

Hotch’s face softened slightly and for a moment, he averted his eyes, letting out another, smaller sigh from his nose before looking back up to meet your eyes once again.

“What I mean is, why do you want to be with me?” He asked again, clarifying and slightly shaking his head in what seemed to be disbelief. “The second you walked into this office, both Morgan and Reid had their eyes on you, and they still do. They’re closer to your age, they’re energetic, humorous, full of life, while I’m ten years your senior, and can’t offer you what they can. So why do you want to be with me, when you can have them, or anyone you want?”

“What is it that they can give me that you can’t?” You didn’t waste a second in firing back.

You had no idea what had brought this on, but it was clear that it was bothering him and quite frankly, you found it ridiculous even though you didn’t like making it a habit to judge other people for what they were feeling.

“They can make you smile-“ He started explaining, and you instantly cut him off.

“You make me smile, all the time.” You shook your head, but your affirmation only seemed to fuel his frustrations even more as he was up on his feet within the next second.

“But I’m not- I’m not fun.” He stated, staring you down. “My clock is ticking. I’m ill-tempered, irritable, too serious for my own good. I’m barely capable of taking care of myself at this point much less my son. I’m miserable and I’m a bully, who only cares about this job. Why would you want to be with someone like that?”

“Where is this coming from? I thought we had something good going.” Your face fell slightly, and you carefully reached your hands out to grab a hold of the front of his suit, taking a small step closer.

“Is this because of Stratton? Is he the one putting these doubts into your head?” You asked, keeping your eyes on your hands for a short moment before looking up to meet his heavy gaze staring down at you.

And once your eyes met his, he knew there was no point in lying; you were a profiler after all, and a good one at that.

“He did.” He confessed calmly, his lips pursing into a straight line.

“Aaron…” You began, the softness of your voice matching the one in your eyes.

“But everything he said is true.” He quietly interrupted you. “I’m not fun to be around, I push people away. That’s what I do, what I’ve always done.” His eyebrows rose and he stood still.

You knew about the doubts he had about himself. You know he felt inadequate as a friend, as a colleague, as a father, and more than anything as a partner after the way Haley had left him. You were aware of all of it, and yet the sound of those self-doubts being voiced aloud saddened you nonetheless.

Silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you took another step closer, flattening your palms out on his chest and your eyes never leaving his.

“Those people didn’t deserve you in the first place. They knew what they were getting themselves into when they started building a relationship with you, whether it be a romantical or purely platonic one. They knew how passionate you are about your job, how much you value it. Them leaving… That’s on them, not you.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I’m not about to give up on you, on us, just because you happen to be a few years older than me. Derek, he wants to have fun, to be young. He may be attracted to me but he doesn’t want anything serious. Spencer isn’t ready for a relationship either, for obvious reasons, and either way, they’re not the ones I want.”

He watched you intensely as you spoke, lips still tight and strained. “What is it that you want?” He asked you, and you wasted no time in replying.

“Something serious and stable, someone who’s ready to settle down, and for me, the best chance to get that is through you.” You smiled, breaking your eyes away from his to follow your hand as you moved it up to his face. “Regardless of what other people say, you’re an amazing person. You’re passionate, driven, kind, loyal, gentle, and so much more. Despite what you may think, you do have a sense of humor and you’re the only one who can make me smile until my cheeks hurt. If that’s not a good man, a good person, then I don’t know what is. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

By the time you finished, the remaining doubt was wiped free from his face, a small, gentle smile instead having taken its place.

It was a funny thing, Hotch only ever spared the tiniest of smiles, and yet it was them that brought you the biggest and most intense amount of happiness. It was so rare to see his ever-stoic features reflect joy that you couldn’t help but light up like a kid on Christmas every time it occurred.

And true to what you’d always been told growing up, your smile was just so contagious that he couldn’t help but to smile wider at the sight.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and visibly relaxed where he stood.

Your heart swelled in your chest when you took note of the way he was slowly but surely shuffling closer to you, picking up a significant amount of speed when you then felt his hand brush against the side of your hip.

But he didn’t dare touch you, hesitation still lingering in the air. So you did what your heart told you and grabbed a hold of his hand, and pushed it down into the curve of your waist.

From then on, he moved on his own, raising his other hand to mimic the same position at your other side, and you let your hand drop from his, instead raising them to busy with his crimson red tie.

“I know you’re struggling, with yourself, with Jack, and that you’re still processing the divorce. And if it’s time you want, then I’ll wait.” You spoke quietly, feeling your skin flush hot under his touch as his thumbs began to move over the thin fabric of your shirt. “But if you want to keep going and see where this can go, then I’ll be here every step of the way to support and help you in any way I can. You just need to let me in.”

More shyly then before, you dared loo back up at him through your lashes, hands stilling on his chest.

His smile was gone and his eyes creased together in concentration, but his eyes were soft and his head slowly nodded. “You’re right.” He said, and you allowed yourself to smile again.

“Aren’t I always?” You lightheartedly teased, tilting your head to the side.

In return, a smile spread across his face, his head shaking. “Don’t make me take it back.”

“No, no take-backs. What’s said is said.” You kept joking, your smile only widening.

He kept smiling down at you for a few seconds longer, but then his face fell again, just like that, out of nowhere, completely sudden. The gaze he held on your face grew absent as he got lost in his thoughts, and before you could question him about the sudden change of mood, the words spilled from his lips as if there was no tomorrow.

“I think I love you.”

Your mind instantly broke into a flurry of thoughts, countless emotions battling in your body. Nervosity and excitement ended up coming out on top, the mixture of the two creating an uncomfortable, sickly feeling in your stomach.

Your face fell in disbelief and your eyes searched his as he came back to reality.

“You do?”

Your voice came out so quiet and small, you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so pathetic, but luckily, you didn’t get much time to beat yourself up over the anticlimactic reacting as he continued.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed to say it. Every day, this job puts all of our lives in danger. I couldn’t bear it if one of us died before I got the time to let you know how I feel.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling yourself growing weak at the knees as he absentmindedly rubbed your waist with his thumbs.

“Just a minute ago, you were trying to end… whatever this is, and now your proclaiming your love for me?” You asked.

It was meant to be a joke, an attempt to ease the anxiety you were currently feeling, but you realized quickly that said anxiety made it sound like the exact opposite of a lighthearted, teasing joke.

Luckily, the man standing in front of you was a profiler and knew that you meant no harm, understanding how shock could render your ability to react appropriately.

“I was never trying to end what we have. I just wanted to be sure that you were sure. That I won’t be holding you back.” He explained, and you finally managed to pull yourself out of the state of shock.

“Being with you motivates me. And I love you, too.” You confessed, the smile once again returning to your face as you moved your hands from his chest to wrap around the back of his neck.

“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled right back. “Can I kiss you?” He quietly added, and your face instantly lit up in a mischievous expression.

“In the office?” You gasped dramatically, bringing your arms down, taking a step back and lightly slapping his chest. “Aren’t you feeling frisky today?”

A large smile stretched across his lips, his chest shaking as he chuckled. “Come here.” He said simply, and before you got the chance to argue, not that you would’ve if given the opportunity, he sat back down in his chair and pulled you down with him.

The chair spun in the process, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your small laughs of glee quickly became muted as he placed his lips on yours, replaced by low hums of contentment.

You clung to him as if your life depended on it, basking in the feeling of his lips moving against yours and his arms tightening around your waist, and as your entire body burned with passion, you realized that he really was the one for you.

Tagged: @must-be-a-weasley-92 @zizzlekwum @cozytruecrimeaddict @lovelynervouskingdom

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotchner imagine #hotchner x reader #hotchner #hotch #hotch imagine #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #derek morgan #spencer reid

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eunoiaflow3r · 4 years ago

Text

julia, dive

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

this is part 4

complicated (series)

a/n: okay, so this might sound confusing but i swear it’s not. the beginning half JULIA is spencer’s pov before he explains.

the ending half DIVE is hotch’s pov before Y/N ends up choosing.

i didn’t want to split it up into 2 parts because i felt like THAT is confusing. you should read both halves but this is kind of the transition into the double ending thing. also ignore that it says “julia” that’s the name of the song by lauv. dive by ed sheeran.

word count altogether: 2k

warnings: language? also not proofread.

—————————————&————————————-

JULIA

word count: 1k

my hesitation and holding my breath i led you to the garden of my loneliness wish that you left before it all burned down

i’m sorry what I do to you i push and pull and mess with your head then get in your bed cause I’m weak deep down. i wish i never lied to you i never meant to hurt you like that and if i could go back i’d leave you alone

“I can’t always be there for you JJ. I just can’t.”

“Why not? Because of Y/N? I thought you broke up with her.”

“Yeah and I fucking shouldn’t have.”

Spencer was angry. He was at JJ’s house while she complained about him and what he wasn’t doing for her. Her kid was at his dads house and that gave her all the more time to yell at him for no reason. He was tired. Life a few months ago was so tiring and here he was, depressed, lonely, and....mad.

“You shouldn’t have?” JJ questioned - clearly appalled.

“Yes, I shouldn’t have. It was a fucking mistake. This whole thing was a fucking mistake.” he said trying not to scream at her like she was him.

“A mistake? I’m a mistake?”

“I’m leaving.” He needed to go. He needed to clear his head. He needed to get you out of it. He wasn’t sure if he ever could.

“You’re leaving? What about Friday?”

“You’ll go by yourself.”

And then he left. He had such a headache too. If he knew it’d all just end up in one huge fight he wouldn’t have come to her house at all. Her problems are not his problems and he didn’t need to be berated about it. He had bigger things to worry about.

He needed to sort out his priorities. He needed to see you.

He’s been so sad these past few months and he didn’t know why until about a week ago. He stopped doing things for him. He stopped caring about you.

He started putting JJ’s needs and wants above his own when he shouldn’t have. If these past few months have proved anything to him it’s that he’s fucked up. Bad. And he needs to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to see you.

After showering and getting ready he headed over to your apartment. He knocked to your door for a good 3 minutes before one of your neighbors started shouting at him “She’s gone! She moved out!”

Oh no. “Wait, what?” his voice cracked. “Where to?”

Your ex neighbor rolled her eyes. “Why would I know?”

Spencer left. What was he going to do? Did you leave the city? The state? No. You couldn’t have. You promised to meet him on Sunday. Granted you promised half asleep, but you still said you’d be there. So everything was fine. He was fine. He just needed a coffee.

On the way there he thought about all the things he would say to you in just a couple days time. How would that conversation even go? Would he have to get on his knees and beg you to take him back? Hopefully you weren’t still kill - worthy angry at him. Hopefully all would be fine.

After he ordered, he turned around at the sound of the bell on the door jangle.

It was Jack with his friend and his friend’s mother Ana. Where was Hotch?

After getting his coffee he made his way over to the three. “Hey Jack!”

“Oh hey Spencer!” Jack said as he hugged Reid. Spencer nodded to Ana and then waved at her son.

“Where’s your dad little man?” He hadn’t seen Jack for a while actually. It seems like he’s gotten so big in just a few months.

“He’s with Y/N.”

Spencer nearly dropped his coffee.

“He’s what?” he asked.

“They went to go see a movie. Dad said it was a scary movie so I couldn’t go.”

A movie. Hotch and Y/N went to go see a movie. Alone. Not with other friends. Just the two of them. On a date. Was it a date? Was Y/N on a date with his boss? His boss of all people.

And yeah, he knows you’ve known Hotch longer but still.

Still.

All was not fine.

When Spencer got home he nearly started crying. His heart hurt so much and it hurt even more when he realized this was all his fault. Everything was his fault. He was losing you if he hasn’t already.

Have you fallen for Hotch? Were you two dating?

Spencer couldn’t fall asleep that night. He tossed and turned in his overly large bed and layed down hungry. He didn’t have the heart or the will to make himself dinner. He just wanted to fall asleep and forget everything that’s happened. He wanted to forget everything that he’s done. All the trouble he’s caused. He wishes he could just create his own separate reality where everything is fine and then escape to it. Where he was living now was not where he wanted to be. He wanted to be with you.

There was such much he realized he fucked up. Decisions and choices he realized that he regretted making. How was he going to fix this? He needed to fix this. He had to change things.

When he drifted off to sleep he couldn’t help but grab his pillow and wish that he was holding you. He knew something was wrong after he broke things off with you. He thought he was doing things right. He thought he was doing you right. But now he looks back at what happened and he realizes that he’s done everything wrong. Not since the phone call, no, but since the day he first met you. His first mistake was made when he ever suggested to keep you guys quiet.

And he’s beating himself up over it. All of this could have been avoided if he would have just been honest. If he had just talked to you and told you how he was feeling, and why he was making the decisions he was making, maybe none of this would ever have happened.

But the truth is he wasn’t completely sure why he was making the decisions he was. He didn’t really know why he made the decisions that he made. But you needed an explanation.

And he had 2 days to give you one.

DIVE

word count: 1k

i could fall or i could fly, here in your aerolplane i could live, i could die, hanging on the words you say and i’ve been known to give my all and jumping in harder than 10,000 rocks on the lake

so don’t call me baby, unless you mean it don’t tell me you need me, if you don’t believe it so let me know the truth, before i dive right into you

Aaron Hotchner sat alone on his couch with a glass of water lazily placed in his hand. The TV was on but he wasn’t really paying attention to it. In fact, he had no idea what was even going on.

Every time he tried to think of something else, or someone else, his mind would always end up coming back to you. Always.

He couldn’t decide if he liked that or not. He’s never really felt so consumed by someone else before. He’s never been in such awe. It’s like he’s in a trance.

But truth is, he’s scared. He’s afraid to get too attached. Not only is his feelings on the line, but so is Jack’s. He could handle rejection (maybe) but Jack? Jack loves you. You’re the closest thing to a female role model that Jack has and if you decide to leave? What will he do? How will he help Jack? Aaron knows you have this thing with Reid you have to sort out. He knows you’ve been avoiding him and he knows you plan to meet with him soon to discuss things.

He’s afraid that once you get there you’re going to realize that Spencer is the one for you. He’s afraid of what will happen if he has to let you go. He’s not going to beg you to stay, but he’s scared of losing you. He won’t say it, he won’t admit it, he’ll, he doesn’t even want to think about it, but he may be in love.

And there’s nothing he can do about it but sit here and convince himself not to drink.

There’s all these decisions to be made and he can’t make them. It’s all up to you. And while you make those decisions his heart is in your hands.

And that’s why he’s afraid.

“Yeah?” He picked up his phone as soon as it rang.

“New case. They need us.” It was JJ. It must’ve been important.

“I’ll be there soon.”

This is just what he needs. Work to distract him. Work is good at doing that. His only real concern was seeing Spencer. It wasn’t that noticeable, but there was definitely a small rift between them. They haven’t really talked about it, the situation, and they probably wouldn’t. Even when you’d choose.

“Why do you look like that?” Rossi asked Hotch.

“Like what?”

“Like a statue.”

Hotch didn’t reply. Everything was getting to his head. You two actually hadn’t talked in a few days too, and that was worrisome. It was only because you were getting situated in your new place, and he was trying to give you space but still he missed you.

Emily noticed something was wrong with Hotch too and that got Spencer’s attention.

“Girl problems?” Emily asked.

“You make it sound like highschool.” Hotch laughed.

They were all on the jet back home. Hotch and Emily sat together, Morgan and JJ, and Spencer sat alone.

“Everything is so mixed right now. I don’t really know what to do.” Hotch said, sort of confiding in Emily.

“Do you love her?”

Spencer was definitely listening in now. Hotch was silent for a minute. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

When they got home, Hotch put Jack to bed and went straight to bed. He was exhausted. He couldn’t stop wondering how all this would pan out. He never thought he’d be in this position. He wasn’t really in control...of anything. He hated that feeling. He was always in control. He always knows what’s going to happen. He doesn’t this time.

The next day he decides to go and see you. He missed you, and he really wanted to talk to you. After dropping Jack off he headed to your place. When you opened the door after he knocked three times he could tell you looked really frustrated. He looked down at your hands and noticed you trying to untangle your headphones.

“You need help?”

“Please.” you handed the headphones off to him, kissed him on the cheek, and went back to your kitchen to put the rest of your dishes away.

When he stepped into the apartment fully he noticed you added more decorations. It really made it homey and it was totally - you. He loved it. It only took him about a minute to untangle your headphones and when you noticed you were upset. Okay, not really but it took you an hour!

“Thank you.”

He smiled in response and pulled you in for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. His head went to your neck and he kissed you lightly there. You ran your fingers through his hair and you guys just stayed like that for a moment. Even though neither of you were saying anything, you were saying everything. Between your breaths you were communicating. With every squeeze around your waist, tug on his hair, and light kisses, you were saying what you needed to say.

Aaron didn’t leave that day until around eight. You guys went to see a movie, it actually wasn’t bad in his opinion, ordered some takeout, and drove around for awhile just looking out at everything and enjoying each other’s presence. You didn’t really need much to be happy.

When Hotch went home that day he realized that whatever choice you made he’d be okay with. Even if it doesn’t work out, and he can’t be romantic with you, and it would be strictly platonic, he realized it’d be okay. He would be upset, sure, but he’d understand. With everything that has happened these past few weeks, he’s come to realize that you’re his best friend. You’ve always been there for him and if things don’t work out, he knows you’re still going to be there.

He cherishes your friendship. If he’s not the one for you, he still wants to be able to hang out with you like you’ve always done. Nothing really has to change. Everything would be okay.

—————————————-&————————————

idk why this took me so long but yeah - idk if i’m liking this. originally there wasn’t supposed to be a happy ending with spencer but i’m really trying for there to be one. i know you guys want one lol.

btw i love JJ. it seems like i don’t but i do. i don’t ship jeid though loll.

feedback always appreciated. thank you guys.

tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez @matthew-gray-g @pinkdiamond1016

other tag list: @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @abschaffer2 @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @upside-down-forever @realalpacorn @geekgirleve @psych0crybaby @tomsreid @genevievedarcygranger @spenciegoob @187-reid @tayraiello @jhiddles03 @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @gredvb @mac99martin @oreogutz @thebadassbitchqueen @i-spy-1812 @spenciegoob @silverchains9182 @limoncelloblr @itsametaphorbriansblog @anise-d-castle6 @spencerreider @drreidsconverse @100layersofdaddyissues @thedaughterofhotchniss @avidreider @dreatine @princesssmooshie @night-girls-world @b-buckys @forever-a-cynical @holl2712 @xxconfettiitsaparade @luckyducky4

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locallibrarycryptid · 3 years ago

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Buckle up, fiends! This is how I imagine me travelling with different Doctors would go:

One: I'm polite enough that I think we'd get along just fine, but I don't think I'd be that close to him. I don't know if he'd appreciate my sarcasm. Out of all his companions, I think Susan and I would be cool.

Two: Hey look! A father figure! His high energy would be a bit intimidating to me, but I think he'd understand that. His attitude is nicer than One and I think he's more patient, he's also a goof. He reminds me of my grandpa, that's definitely a plus. Him and Jamie, powerhouse! I love those two and would love to travel with them! Victoria and Zoe? Love them too!

Three: I think he's cool. He would let me rant about random things and he would listen! He would teach me about whatever science thing he's doing. I wouldn't get it, but it would be cool. He would teach me some self defense, which would be awesome. UNIT? All pretty awesome, would love to know them. (Need to stop myself from making fun of the Master)

Four: okay if Two's energy was intimidating......oof. Not gonna lie, he kinda scares me. He moves so quickly I think it would difficult for me to process what's happening. I feel like I would rant about things and it wouldn't look like he's listening but he'd remember everything I said. I'll be talking about the Mysterious Benedict Society or something and weeks later he'd be like, "these doors open just like the doors at the Institute of the Very Enlightened, when Mr. Curtain would smash through them in his wheelchair. Now what does that tell us?" Anyway, fun to travel with but a bit exhausting. I like all his companions (especially Romana)

Five: oh my god I'd be adopted. Doesn't matter that I'm an adult, I am now part of this family and I'm not complaining. I think I'd get along with Five, he's very comforting. Another father figure! He's a dad, a tired dad, but a dad nonetheless! I think I'd get along best with Tegen. I love Nyssa and Adric but they're both excellent at math and stuff, so I'd just relate better to Tegen. Turlough, on the other hand,........we might not get along that well. I love this dramatic bitch but I think we'd annoy the shit out of each other. (Need to stop myself from making fun of the Master)

Six: hmmmmmm now this is a bit difficult. I love Six! And I love the sarcasm and the verbal sparring, etc. But I'm sensitive, so that might get old after a while. I'm also very sarcastic but I don't want to be mean.....eventually I'd be sarcastic back. I'd worry that I'd bore him or something (actually I'd always be worried about that). Peri and Mel tho! I love them both, I think I'd be friends with both of them.

Seven: he's like that weird fun uncle you only ever see at family reunions! He's a high energy goofball that commits war crimes, what could go wrong! He also kinda terrifies me! I feel like we'd have a similar relationship as he had with Ace. Speaking of Ace! I can't even describe how much I love Ace! She's so fucking cool and I want to be her friend!

Eight: Unfortunately, I don't know enough about the Eighth Doctor to tell how I'd get along with him. I've heard some things that make me go, "whhat the fuck??" Yes he scares me

Nine: oh hey would you ya look at that! We're both touch starved and depressed! I'm very non-confrontational, so I worry he'd get impatient with me. But maybe we'd chill in the library in comfortable silence sometimes. Also stan Rose Tyler, I love her. Jack and I would be cool too. We'd crack jokes all the time

Ten: again, the high energy is a bit intimidating. But, like Two, I think he'd be more patient with me. He'd actively listen to me rant about random shit and probably would respond to things. He might be more protective than earlier Doctors, he's lost too many people at this point. Again: stan Rose Tyler. I love Martha Jones! She's a badass! But out of all his companions, Donna is the one I'd love to travel with the most. She's one of, if not my favorite companions.

Eleven: high energy again. Except this time with an unbridled rage! Oh boy! Yes the others also got very angry, but Eleven's rage could be explosive at times. He certainly would be fun and funny to travel with but randomly exploding and yelling at someone or situation (Star whale episode) makes me too on edge. I do love Amy and Rory and River though. I think I'd just hang back with Rory, he survives (nearly) everything and has the braincells of the group. I do like Clara, but I think she's better with Twelve

Twelve: Hey look! A father figure! I'd rather travel with later Twelve because he's got that whole teacher/mentor thing going. I think we'd have a very similar relationship that he had with Bill, and I like that. Sarcastic grandpa and I think I'd be comfortable enough to be sarcastic back. Later Twelve is more patient, which is another reason I'd rather travel with season 10 Twelve. I think Clara and I would definitely be friends. Bill Potts is also amazing! (I don't have a crush on her! Shut up!)

Thirteen: The energy is almost too much! I definitely be accepted into the squad, I'd like to hang out with them. I think I'd get closer to the squad than the Doctor. Like Four, she moves a bit too quickly for me to process what's happening. We'd be friends, definitely! But I just think I'd be closer to the squad.

I hope this all made sense....sorry if it's too rambly.

#doctor who #classic who #first doctor #second doctor #third doctor #fourth doctor #fifth doctor #sixth doctor #seventh doctor #eigth doctor #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #the twelfth doctor #thriteenth doctor

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percywinchester27 · 4 years ago

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A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-36)

Word count: 5.6K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Feels, PTSD, fluff

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

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

Beta: @deanssweetheart23. Love you babe <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“I’ve decided I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m going home.”

“Jack!” You grabbed him by his elbow just as he turned. “You can’t abandon me!”

He looked a bit terrified. “I can’t do this, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure you can. Jody is awesome and you’re so cute. I know she will like you.”

Jack did not look convinced. A tiny part of you was nervous with him. He was about to meet his girlfriend's mom for the first time. After calling Sam to tell him that you were up for the picnic, the wild optimism in his voice had you wearing out the carpet of your living room, freaking out about messing it up- for Sam and for Max. As a last resort, you had knocked on your neighbour’s door and convinced Jack to accompany you. As it turned out, Claire had been after him for a while to meet her family, and Jack being Jack was worrying the hell out of it.

Now, you stood in front of the gate of your building, waiting for Sam to come pick you up, and not letting each other chicken out of this situation. That’s what friends did.

“It’s not just Jody,” Jack admitted. “It’s also your husband.”

Your heart still lurched at the word. “Sam? What about him?”

Jack groaned, rolling his head. “I don’t know. You’re our Y/N… and then suddenly we find out you’re married. I really want to like him, but he’ll take you away from us.”

You were touched by his words, and the innocence in them. “No one can take me away. In fact, this is just my grand scheme to make sure that you’re stuck with me for life now. I’ve been slowly getting you hooked to the cookies. Soon there will come a day when you’ll realise you can't live without them. And then you just can’t get rid of me. It’ll be too late.”

Jack smiled at you and slung his arm around your soldier. “It’s not the cookies we’re getting addicted to, it’s you.”

A car made the swift turn and came to a stop next to the gate, right in front of you- Sam’s sleek, black Mercedes.

Jack let out a low whistle. “I take it all back. You get back together with this guy and adopt me. Max is so much nicer than Kevin anyway. I'll share a room with him. I’ll do the dishes everyday.”

You were crying because of laughter by the time Sam opened his door and stepped out.

“You alright?” He asked, face startled but amused.

Nodding and gasping for breath, you made the hasty introductions. Jack gave his patented customary hand raise of a greeting with palm facing forward. Sam was going for a handshake but seeing Jack’s wave, he did the same with a smile.

From the backseat, Max called out your name. Without caring about the rest, you opened the door and got in besides him, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, Y/N, aren’t you riding shotgun?” Jack asked, voice restrained to appear casual.

“Nah, you got it. I’m going to hangout in the back with Max.”

Jack might be looking daggers at you for throwing him under the bus, but you knew he’d live. Sam was excellent company. In the next fifteen minutes of the ride, you were proven right, because Jack was busy discussing the mysterious circumstances under which Edgar Allan Poe died, and how The murders in Rue Morgue was actually his best work. Sam was exceptionally well read and Jack was in his element with literature discussions.

You turned to Max, showing him your basket. “Look, what I got for you- your favourite cookies and a pie!”

He let out a squeal of delight and you snuck a cookie out for him.

The car was spotless, rich upholstery gleaming, but you knew Sam couldn’t care less if Max got crumbs on the seats. Right on track, Max dug into the cookie, not bothering about the mess. Secretly, it pleased you that you were beginning to decode their relationship.

“I didn’t know what the others would like, so I baked muffins and some savoury croissants. You think that’s okay?”

“Stop gnawing over it, Y/N,” Sam said. “Everyone’s gonna love it.”

You didn’t think he was even paying any attention to you. Course you were wrong. His eyes were melting in the rearview mirror as he smiled at you.

“Y/N woke up at 4:30 in the morning to get everything set,” Jack added.

You bent forward to look at him. “How do you know that?”

“I could hear your beater whirring. Thin walls.”

“That woke you up? I’m so sorry, Jack!”

Jack snorted. “Was she always like this?”

“Always,” said Sam, with all the warmth. You could feel the heat in your chest.

For the rest of the ride, you happily listened to Max chatter about the badminton racquet in the trunk and Claire’s home bowling set. He was such a joy to listen to when he was just being a kid and not careful. You listened very attentively, picking out the things that were only in the subtext of his words. Max loved these people- Jody, her girls and even Chase. He knew their habits and their natures like a family. Sam must have relied on them a lot and often.

You were so lost in Max’s words, that the car was already silently cruising along the San Francisco bay. The water stretched by one side of the road. Instinctively, you tightened the grip on Max’s hand.

Why hadn’t you thought to ask where the picnic was!

As it turned out, the place they had chosen was very serene… The little landscape was a small distance walk from the highway, secluded enough that it wasn’t frequented, but beautiful nonetheless. Tall, full trees dominated the landscape. The rich fall colours, oddly made the shade underneath brighter somehow, inviting. The shadows of the trees bleeded into an open, grassy area and ultimately into the sandy, pebbly waterline of the bay.

You wrinkled your nose at the sight of nestled ducks. Sam smirked at you. Was he remembering the same afternoon? When you had tried to feed the ducks Sam and Dean’s epic failure of muffins?

Two girls were already laying out an assortment of food on the blanket. The blonde turned at the sound of Max’s hoots and her face brightened at the site of Jack. It was adorable. Alex still had her hand in a cast and Jody was hauling a cane chair from behind. All of them looked in a jovial mood. Maybe the whole sneaking out at night debacle was behind them.

Alex greeted you first when you reached them. “It’s great to see you again, Mrs. Winchester.”

You felt rather than saw Sam’s eyes flash towards you. Smiling, you sat down next to her. “Y/N is just fine, Alex. You don’t have to change names all of a sudden.”

Both she and Claire were a little wide eyed. Your situation had clearly been a topic of discussion with them. This girl they randomly knew as Max’s friend or Jack’s neighbor was now suddenly Sam’s wife. It must’ve been bizarre. After sharing a few pleasantries with Jody, you pulled out your own basket.

You had to admit, the reactions were very mollifying as they dug into the muffins, pies and croissants, moaning with closed eyes. Sam gave you a sideways smirk at their reaction.

“That’s it,” Jody declared. “You’re passing the rest of the semester for legal writing without handing in a single assignment. The muffins alone… mmm.”

“Save me some,” Sam complained. It was mostly aimed at Jody.

She scowled at him. “You stop making those eyes at me, Winchester. I’m not giving up my share.” When you giggled she turned towards you. “Did he always do that?”

“Puppy dog eyes of doom? Yeah… always.”

“You make that shit work for you in the court, don’t you? That’s how you win all of them cases,” she grumbled.

“How rude!”

You turned at the offended sound. Chase stood behind you with arms crossed over his chest.

“You guys started eating without me?” He huffed, sitting down on your other side and turned to Max. “Your dad, I can expect that from. Since when did you turn into such an Iago?”

“I saved you the cookies,” Max said promptly, pulling the bag from behind him. There was a small furor which was mostly the girls complaining about how they didn’t know there were cookies. It ended with Chase clutching the bag to his chest.

“Flee away, children,” he said. “I need the cookies to mend my broken heart.”

“What happened to your girlfriend? Weren’t you bringing her with you?” Sam asked.

Chase threw him a very impressive shade. “She dumped me, Samuel.”

“Why?”

“She couldn’t bear that I was prettier than her.”

You suspected Chase was just playing it out for the cookies. He did not look heartbroken in the least.

Once the food stash was considerably depleted, the girls, Jack and Max, picked up the racquets and divided their teams for Badminton. When Max insisted that you join them, Sam vehemently supported your argument of terrible hand-eye coordination. He knew and much like yourself, did not want to put other people in the way of the harm that you might inflict. In the end, only the group of four ended up on the blankets. Sam, Jody, you and Chase who was almost lying on his side, head resting on his hand, propped up on an elbow. He looked younger in a t-shirt and jeans.

“I still can’t believe you can cook all of this by yourself! No wonder Sam didn’t want to junk the marriage.”

“Chase!” Sam admonished, mortified, but you enjoyed Chase’s unapologetic behaviour, being all too tired of people stepping on eggshells around you- especially Sam.

“No, it’s alright,” you said, grinning at Chase, who returned your grin with a wink.

“You don’t happen to have a sister, do you?” He enquired.

“Well, actually…”

“Someone other than Jo,” he added quickly. “God knows I won’t survive a minute if I went toe to toe with Dean Winchester. One Winchester is enough to keep me in line.”

Sam threw Chase his classic bitchface then went back to his conversation with Jody. Eyeing his absorption, Chase tilted his head towards the side, “Care to join me for a walk, Y/N?”

You chanced a look at Sam, who was busy discussing a faculty matter and nodded. As quietly as you could, the two of you got up and moved away.

“So, did you end up applying? To Acton Gris, I mean?” He asked, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his pants.

“I did, the very evening. I’m trying not to be too hopeful.”

His green eyes regarded you. “Now, whyever would you do that?”

“Because I’m a realist and I know what type of competition I’m up against.”

Chase chuckled. “You’re too idealistic, Y/N. Even more than Mr. Mc-dreamy over there. Never thought I’d see him topped in that category. I’m still hopeful. Looks like I’m the only one.”

“Why do you care?” You asked. “What does it matter to you if I end up in Acton Gris or not?”

“It doesn’t. I think it would be great for your career and it’s my duty being from the same alma mater to further your cause.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “And this has nothing to do with Sam.”

Chase was quiet for a long time, watching his steps as you strolled along the waterline, a safe distance away from it. You had given up on expecting an answer and were just beginning to wonder what would be a good time to turn around and head back when he finally spoke, “I’ll admit I haven’t been your biggest fan, Y/N. Sam never said a word against you… and that is exactly what pissed me off.”

This was in line with what you had pretty much already assumed so it didn’t come as a surprise.

“I’m telling you this because I know you ain’t a snowflake,” said Chase. “You don’t have the liberty to be a snowflake after everything you’ve been through. I also know you don’t care about my opinion of you.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” you pointed out.

He sighed. “I suggested that you try at Acton Gris not for Sam’s sake but mine. That part I told you about- how Sam’s too high up to be involved with paralegals- is one hundred percent true. But I wanted to get to know you for myself.”

“To see if I was any good for Sam?”

Chase snorted. “This whole deal makes me sound like Sam’s possessive mistress but I am protective of him… and of his boy over there. I’ve been around for the start of that story, and they’ve been hurt enough. I am cad for saying this but I just didn’t trust you enough, and Sam being Sam was pining after you from day one… it’s quite tiresome to watch.”

“And now what? You suddenly approve of me? I passed some invisible test?”

“You guys are already married, who the heck am I to set a test for you? For the majority part I was telling the truth, you know. You’d flourish at Acton Gris. It would make you happy and Sam would be over the moon. But I still want to get to know you better.” He paused. “I haven’t had the best of family life growing up. More money than I could count, but my mother ditched me and my dad before I could spell out her name. I’ve seen him miserable for all his life… and well, it gave me mommy issues to last a lifetime.” Chase winked. “So all the meddling is clearly not me projecting my childhood abandonment issues on you. Clearly!”

Chase’s blunt honesty surprised you. He owed you nothing at all. Yet here he was answering all your questions. While he was at it, you decided to ask one more.

“Now you think I won’t break Sam’s heart?”

He looked at you and shook his head lightly. “I don’t know that. What I do know is that you won’t be able to break his heart without breaking your own first. I’ve only ever wanted him to be happy. Tried setting him up with a hundred girls, the guy just wouldn’t budge. Then you come back and it’s fucking sunshine all over his face. I know when to give up.”

Oddly, you understood exactly where Chase was coming from. He was so strongly rooted in Sam’s corner, all of his thoughts were biased, even if it meant being critical and wary of you. You hadn’t tried to achieve it, but somewhere in the middle you had gained both Chase’s confidence and his liking.

“What’s it like working under Sam?” You asked, changing the topic as well as voicing a curiosity.

Chase gave you a look. “Now or then?”

“Both,” you said after a minute.

“You’ve got to know, I used to look up to Sam when I was at Stanford- not that he knew I existed back then. He was in the final year, I was in the first, and he was everything I wanted to be- Top of his class, valedictorian, popular with the ladies. I applied at Johnson’s because of that.” He paused, continuing only after an encouraging look from you. “He was nothing like I remembered. Every time I faced him, there was a very real risk of being fired for the smallest mistake.”

Chase laughed. You did not. He was describing a Sam you couldn’t imagine, a Sam that shouldn’t have existed.

“Now he’s my best friend. At any rate, he’s about the only person who puts up with my dumb antics.”

“He puts up with a lot from a lot of people,” you murmured, absentmindedly staring at the lake.

A small moment caught your eye. The birdy that had been flying back and forth between the girls and the boys, flew over a bit too high and far. And as a reflex, Max, his eyes up, backed away fast.

“No!” You were already running by the time you realised that the terrified scream was yours.

“No, no… Chirp!” You shouted, but it was too late as the boy’s feet hit the wet slope. He slipped and tumbled back, rolling right into the water.

Your legs were aching from how hurriedly you dove after him, right into the bay, lashing in the water till your hands found Max’s body. Yanking him out of the water and against your body, you backed off quickly. You cradled his body on the sandy shore, frantically checking his face, arms to make sure he was alright. Max didn’t look hurt, just shocked and a bit scared.

“Are you okay?” You asked, too loudly. Max nodded.

Hands landed on your shoulder, your head. Voices told you to let go but you did not release Max, not till another voice murmured in your ear, “It’s alright, Y/N. He’s okay.”

You turned on Sam. “Why did you let him near water? Why weren’t you paying any attention?” You yelled, not relinquishing your hold on Max.

Sam crouched down before you, not attempting to reach out to Max, who was staring wide eyed at you.

“What if something had happened to him?” You wiped at your tears with the back of your hand. “He’s just a little boy! How could you be so careless?”

Sam shrugged out of his jacket and carefully wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Max is alright,” he said calmly, “You can let go of him.”

“No!”

“Y/N, you’re all wet and you’re starting to shake. Get inside the car before it gets worse.”

“But Max…”

“Max is fine,” Sam said in the same patient tone. “Look at the water, it’s not even waist deep. This side of the bay is very shallow for, at least, fifty yards and Max can swim very well.”

The realisation came very suddenly. Max had never been in any danger at all. The girls had sarongs on, maybe they had all intended a swim. You had needlessly created a scene, drenched Max more than he needed to be and yelled at Sam for being an irresponsible father.

The tears spilled over again but because of a different reason this time- shame. You let go of Max the next instant, staring pointedly at the ground.

Max turned in your lap. Small, soft hands came up to wipe away the tears from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I won’t go near the water again.”

You threw your arms around him again and sobbed against his little neck. The people around you seemed to be closing in but you didn’t want to look up at any of them. Your heartbeat was thudding erratically against Max’s head but he didn’t make a move to leave or get up.

“C’mon, girls, start packing,” Jody ordered over you. “Give Y/N some space to breathe. You, too, lover boy!”

Four sets of feet scampered away.

“Chase, take Max to the blankets. There’s a fresh set of clothes in his bag.”

You did not want to let go of the boy. Doing so would make you face Sam.

It seemed Max was reluctant as well, but with one look at Sam, he disentangled himself. You felt the softest brush of his lips on your cheek and then Max was walking away, his hand in Chase’s.

Sam put both his hands against your arms and pulled you to your feet. He drew his coat tightly around you and started walking you towards his car, his palm firmly planted against your back.

You let him, without another word as he opened the door of the passenger seat for you to get in. Sam got in on the other side and turned the heat up. Only when the car started did you shake out of the quiet.

“Wait. Max?”

“Don’t worry about him. Chase will drive him home.”

Sam’s voice betrayed no emotion. Not anger or hurt. It was as composed as the many lectures he had delivered.

Ashamed of even meeting his gaze, you tipped your head against the window, glad that the side was facing the road instead of the bay and closed your eyes. It felt like floating in bliss if you buried your emotions down- this sensation of gliding on a smooth road, the heat in the car swirling with the scent of Sam’s cologne. It felt familiar and safe.

All too soon you were jerked awake, the car easing into the driveway and coming to a stop. It was already dark outside. Somehow you had slept through the whole ride. Your clothes were completely dry.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, his voice like velvet in the darkness. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Straightening up, you turned to face Sam who was looking down at you with concern etched on his face. Slowly, you took his hand in yours and spoke through a hoarse voice, looking at them. “Please forgive me.” Those three words did not even begin to cover the regret you felt over what had happened. You were an outsider, looking in on Sam’s life with this strange hunger and desire. You wanted to be a part of his little family so bad, but you weren’t yet. You didn’t know Max the way Sam did, did not understand Max’s choices, and the thoughts behind them. You did not have a right to him or Sam. Ignoring all of that, you had yelled at Sam, the way a wife would yell at her husband for neglecting their child. But, Sam wasn’t neglecting Max. Max wasn’t your son and you were barely Sam’s wife.

“It was thoughtless and stupid to raise my voice at you and say those words. I forgot that Max belongs to you, that you could never be careless towards him. I had no right to yell at you in front of everyone.”

Maybe it was all for good. Let Sam see what you were capable of. If he saw the truth of how broken you were, maybe he would stop wanting you in his life. Everyone knew how hysteric you could get now. So much for Jody rooting for you. So much for Chase’s hopes of Sam getting to be happy. They all saw you for who you truly were.

“You remember what I told you the other night?” Sam asked. “When you came over and we sat by the swing?”

The lightness of his voice made you look up. He should be angry, at least, pissed.

“I told you that I didn’t care what people thought about us.”

“Doesn’t justify what I did… How it must’ve looked...”

“You know how it looked to me?”

Sam’s eyes were clear, no resentment in them. “To me it looked like you ran to protect my son without caring for your life. You didn’t know the water wasn’t deep, you can’t swim and you’re fucking terrified of water. I’m not even talking about what the cold does to you. Why on earth would I care about how this looks to anyone else?”

You were transfixed by the depth of his words.

“Those people either love you or love me. I’m sure they saw it no differently than how I see it.”

“What about Max? I must’ve scared him so bad.” The poor boy hadn’t said anything except apologise to you for stepping in the water. It hadn’t been his fault.

Sam pursed his lips. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him. I think he’s concerned about you the most.”

You put your head in your hands, weary. The fear was still an echo in your stomach despite the sleep, and it was getting stronger every minute- what if something had happened to Max?

“Can I ask you something?” Sam sounded hesitant.

“Mhmm.”

“Do you remember what you said right before you jumped in the water?”

You frowned, trying to remember. “Wasn’t I calling out to Max?” There had been no time to say anything or do anything else.

Sam’s face was tender as he said, “Yeah, you were calling out to Max.”

What a weird thing to ask! You tried harder, failing to remember what Sam was talking about.

Lights flared up behind. You leaned back, not realising just how close you were to Sam. The car coming from behind came to a halt at the start of the driveway. The doors opened and Max and Jack spilled out from either sides. Jack reached your door first. He opened it and pulled you into a hug without waiting for you to turn.

“Hey, hey, I’m okay.”

“You were shaking so bad.”

It was actually nothing compared to what Jack could have witnessed if Sam hadn’t whisked you off into the car and in front of a heater.

Chase’s reaction was a bit more subdued. He looked worried about how you were doing and wasn’t his usual boisterous self. When Sam invited him for dinner, he took a raincheck. So did Jack. Once, Chase had driven away, Sam looked at you expectantly, but you just shook your head. You had intruded on their time too much already.

You crouched down to Max’s level who was uncharacteristically quiet. “I scared you today, didn’t I?”

Max didn’t say anything. He placed the back of his hand against your forehead and then under your jaw.

“I’m alright, sweetie,” you assured him.

Max hugged you around the neck, and you hugged back tightly just for a second. You would jump inside a hundred lakes a hundred times without a single thought if it meant Max would be safe.

“I love you,” Max whispered very quietly in your ear. You were sure no one else had heard it.

Just as quietly, you whispered back. “I love you, too, my little boy.”

“Get inside, Max,” Sam said. “Wash your hands and change out of your clothes. I’ll be there in a minute to run the bath for you.”

With a small sigh, Max went inside, but not before giving you a smile.

“I’ll wait for you right outside the gate,” Jack told you. “It was great meeting you, Sam.”

“Likewise,” said Sam.

You watched Jack almost run out of sight.

“Cool kid,” Sam muttered, eyes in the same direction.

You sighed. “I can’t believe I ruined the picnic and put a damper on everyone’s mood.”

“C’mere.” Sam gently pulled you to him, so that your body was leaning against his. One hand was curled around your shoulder and his other hand was against your lower back. You could feel the tips on his fingers against the little skin exposed between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your pants. It sent a thrill through your body. “It’s like you have to find something to worry about all the time. Quit doing that. Everyone’s just glad that you’re okay. We’ll do this again sometime, alright? We can push Chase in the water next time.”

You snorted.

“And don’t worry about the yelling. You know I always liked it when you got bossy like that.”

Sam’s words made you giggle.

“There’s my girl.” His warm breath washed over your face.

What you did next was inexcusable. Without warning, you were reaching up on the tips of your toes, kissing him. Sam was surprised, his hands left your body, but you threw yours around his neck, raising yourself up against his tall frame. He was so shocked that he lost his balance and fell back against the wall next to his door. You did not give up, sucking on his lower lip, feeling the roll of his muscles under your hand.

Sam let out a primal sound and the next second you were turning, it was your back to the wall now. He hoisted you up against the surface by your waist with one hand, hitching your leg around his waist. The other hand tangled in your hair as his mouth worked hard against yours. His taste was heady, intoxicating and the way he was kissing you was enough to make you forget where you were, what you were doing. It would make you forget your own name. The hand at your waist travelled under the hem of your shirt, clutching at the skin on your lower back, and his lips started to travel downwards, sucking, biting, along your chin to your jaw and back down again to the column of your neck. Sam wasn’t gentle… and as you gasped, indecently, eyes closed, you didn’t want him to be gentle either.

No, you wanted him to be rougher, go harder and never stop.

“Daaaaaadd!” Max sang from the inside and the two of your sprang apart. Your feet landed on the ground with resounding reality.

"Coming," he said, voice thick.

Sam bent down, hands on his knees, gasping hard.

“Oops!” You muttered.

He looked up at you with a boyish grin, face flushed, looking years younger.

“I better go,” you said, biting your lip. “Jack’s waiting for me.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to ask you to stay and by the looks of it, he wanted the exact same thing.

“Uhhh yeah…” Sam huffed, shifting slightly, trying to adjust his jeans furtively. That made your face grow hotter.

“Bye!” You ducked out of the porch, not looking back, least you should turn around and attack him again. What had gotten into you to react so wildly? That must’ve been highly inappropriate!

A small voice in your head told you that it was anything but inappropriate… technically, at least.

Jack’s face lit up when he saw you and then it immediately dropped.

“What happened?”

“Y-Your hair!” He muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

“Oh!” It was mussed up in all directions. Hurriedly, you ran your fingers through it, hoping for some semblance. “Sorry.”

After a minute, Jack sneaked a glance and then smiled impishly. “I’m sorry. It’s just the idea of you making out with someone gives me the heebies… You’re like my sister!” He screwed up eyes into slits to show the cringe.

You laughed.

At the door, Jack gave you another hug. “I gotta say, Y/N, I wasn’t convinced about this whole Sam business before today. Neither was Kev. You know we would always support you with whatever you decided, but seeing you with him was very relieving. I won’t worry again.”

It was heartening, how much everyone cared for you.

You had to take a cold shower once inside, despite your composition. It was regretful, because the water washed away the remnants of Sam’s smell off of you. Idly, you wondered if you could steal the shirt he had lent you and keep it for yourself, climb into it when you went to bed like you used to.

The shower was necessary to reign in the utter chaos that was your brain. The evening had been eventful enough, but what had happened on Sam’s porch? How were you ever going to keep your hands away from him now? Abstaining was your idea to begin with. Sam had bared his heart to you, and this was your decision to keep your hands to yourself till you said the three words back to him.

So much for self control. But the way he’d looked at you, angels would have fallen for less. You were only a human. Besides, nothing would ever compare to the feeling of Sam’s lips, his fingers digging in your back, his body pressed against yours.

You got into the bed, missing the warmth of his body when your phone pinged. Rolling on your stomach, you reached out to grab it from the nightstand praying the text was from the one person you wanted it to be from. It was.

*I missed that. I missed us*

Hugging the phone to your chest, you sighed like a teenager back from her first kiss. The incidence with water should have shaken you, the way you were wrecked anytime you got drenched, instead you were laying in bed grinning like an idiot.

*I missed us, too*

His reply was instantaneous.

*It’s been a while…*

What an idiot! You knew what he was implying. As if he could ever be less than perfect at anything, especially at that.

You typed your response quickly.

*Oh, Mr. Winchester, you always knew how to show a girl a good time*

The tightening in your stomach which refused to go away despite the cold shower was proof enough. Your skin still tingled.

*That’s comforting… and encouraging ;)*

Yes, it was going to be really hard to go back to keeping your hands off each other now. Being around him was like breaking dams. Once you broke one, it was impossible to put that barrier back up again. The class tomorrow was going to be excruciating. For tonight, you let the wildest fantasies mingled with old memories take up all of your brain space. Even if it left you writhing in your sheets.

*Good night, Mr. Winchester*

You saw the three dots following one another and then disappearing as Sam typed. Once, twice, thrice. Finally the little pop up bubble appeared.

*Good night, Mrs. Winchester. I love you*

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

A/N 2: I quite like this part. Gave me the chance to explore how delicate, confusing, dependent and volatile emotions can be at the same time. I think if I hadn’t had the backing of 35 chapters, I’d never be able to pull of the conversations in this chapter, Sam, Chase, Jack... all of them. They wouldn’t have been as funny, emotional or exciting. That’s just me thinking maybe.

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#Sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester reader insert #sam x reader fluff #sam fluff #lawyer!sam #professor!sam #lawyer!sam x reader #professor!sam x reader #dad!sam #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #anawrites #anawritesspn #ptsd #allu 36 #Ana writes ALLU #q

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ecto-american · 5 years ago

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The Fenton Conspiracy

Phic Phight Oneshot for SummersSixEcho: The Fentons only have two children...Right?

Read on FFN and AO3

"Um...hello?" Maddie spoke hesitantly at seeing three children sitting in the Fenton kitchen, eating breakfast. They all looked up at her when she spoke. "Morning Jazz, Danny. And…" She trailed off.

An unfamiliar child was eating cereal, and she was an absolute doppelganger of her son. Black hair pulled back in a side-braid, bright blue eyes just like Jack's. She smiled warmly at her as she chewed. Maddie couldn't help but notice that she was dressed in Jazz's old black tank-top and jeans.

"Morning!" Jazz chirped. She had a bagel and coffee, and Maddie never took her eyes off of the trio as she went to fetch a cup.

She broke contact enough to pour herself some, only to set it all down. Nobody was sleeping over that she could remember. She looked a tad too young to be one of Jazz's friends, and the only girl Danny ever brought around was Sam. This was definitely not Sam. Who was she? How come she had never seen her before?

The huntress spun to meet the three.

"I'm very sorry, dear, but who are you?" she asked. The unfamiliar child frowned.

"Mom, this is Ellie," Jazz scowled. "Your youngest? Our little sister?" Maddie had no clue how to respond to that. "How can you forget her?"

"I only have two kids," Maddie said firmly. She turned to get her coffee, taking a drink. There was no way she was just simply so tired that she was hallucinating the entire thing.

"You have three," Danny spoke up. As always, he sounded exhausted, and he was also eating cereal. "Trust me, they gang up on me."

"It's true, I made him give me a piggyback ride home from school yesterday," the unfamiliar girl, Ellie?, replied cheerfully.

"She did, lazy little," Danny muttered off something as he shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"It was far, and I was tired!" Ellie exclaimed.

"No, no," Maddie insisted. "I have two children." Danny sighed tiredly.

"Mom, how come you don't remember me?" Ellie's voice sounded absolutely heartbroken, and Maddie immediately felt a wave of guilt.

It didn't take long to immediately be hit with concern. What was this? Maddie knew she only had two children. There was no way one simply...forgot a child. As in, not forgot your child at the store, but the entire existence of a girl who had to be at least fourteen? This had to be some kind of prank. Her children wouldn't prank her like this though, would they? Neither were cracking up into giggles, the normal giveaway. Instead both were casually eating like it was...normal. Nothing seemingly out of place.

Maddie studied the girl as she took a long sip of coffee. She looked way too much like Danny and Jack for it to be some random girl for a prank either. Even if they found a doppelganger, which in itself was so unlikely, she could already immediately notice Fenton-specific quirks. The using of the inner wrist to wipe her mouth instead of a napkin of her hand, the way all of the children hunched over as they ate. It was odd how...much this girl fit into the family.

"What's going on?" Maddie demanded to know. She set the cup down on the table. Danny sighed, dropping his spoon into the cereal.

"Fine. I got detention again," he confessed. Maddie stared at him, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Look, I'm sorry. It wasn't my fault, it was Dash, he-"

"I mean about this girl, Daniel James," Maddie spoke coldly. Ellie dropped her own spoon in shock.

"I didn't do anything!" Ellie whined. "He's the one who got detention, I was in the library the whole time with Valerie!"

"You little liar!" Danny accused. "You weren't in the library, you were setting up a prank for Paulina with Sam!"

"Was not!" Ellie protested.

"Was too!" Danny argued back.

Was she having a stroke? Maddie watched the bickering in stunned silence as she tried to piece together everything.

"Are you a ghost?" Maddie asked bluntly, even though she immediately felt silly for asking such a thing. Of course a ghost wouldn't come out and confess such a thing.

Jazz sighed, annoyed as she put her bagel down.

"Mom, this is your daughter," she insisted. "Why do you resort anything to ghosts? It's not healthy to obsess this much on ghosts. Maybe tonight we should have a family night. It's been a while since we had one."

"Ugh," Danny made an annoyed noise from the back of his throat. "I'm not in the mood to watch Ghostbusters for the hundredth time."

"We can play board games!" Ellie pointed out.

"That's even worse," Danny complained.

"One of you two are going to explain what's going on," Maddie pressed her two (?) children, staring directly at Jazz and Danny. Neither flinched, nor gave any of their normal indications that they were lying, which honestly? Chilled her. What was going on?

"Ugh, one second." Jazz left the room, muttering something about the stairs. She returned moments later with her scrapbook, opening it, and Maddie couldn't believe her eyes.

This girl was in every family photo, and there were baby pictures of her. Pictures of school events with her there. Pictures of Maddie holding her as a baby, of her having three children at the beach and three Fenton children opening presents.

She didn't know what to think.

"We're gonna be late," Ellie spoke up, nodding at the clock. Everybody else glanced up.

"Ah, shoot," Jazz sighed. "Come on, I'll drive us."

Maddie watched Jazz and Danny pick up their normal backpacks, and Ellie pick up Danny's old backpack, a Crash Nebula themed one that he claimed to have outgrown.

"Bye Mom, love you!" Danny called out.

"Love you, see you after school," said Jazz, the three leaving the kitchen.

"Bye Mom! I love you!" Ellie chimed in.

"Um...have a good day, kids," Maddie spoke slowly. "I love you too."

She heard the trio of children chattering happily in the hallway, collecting coats and other winter gears. Nothing in particular, mostly just teenage talk about the upcoming day. School projects, friends, pointing out the recent snow and discussing weekend plans. The door opened, and it shut.

Maddie hurried to the window, watching the trio get into Jazz's car, it turning on almost instantly. Dani sat in the back, and Danny in the passenger seat. The car sat idle for a few seconds before her daughter pulled out of the driveway and took herself and her sibling, siblings?, to school. Maddie slipped back at the table, drinking coffee and looking through the scrapbook. When the hell did she gain a third child?

123456789

Jazz sighed heavily as she grasped the steering wheel. Her siblings got into the car, and as soon as the doors shut, she finally spoke.

"I think that...actually kinda worked," she replied. She glanced up at FentonWorks in amazement.

"The power of just acting casual," Ellie grinned. The clone buckled her seatbelt. "Tucker's amazing at Photoshop."

"Was this really easier than just telling them the truth?" Jazz accused Danny. He shrugged, clicking the seatbelt into place and leaning back.

"That's the backup plan. But all we really need to do is convince an entire school, Dad when he gets home, our neighbors and extended relatives that Ellie's always been here, and also somehow keep Vlad from finding out," Danny grinned. Jazz made an annoyed huff.

"Good luck," she scoffed, and she backed out of the driveway.

#phics #phic phight #my phics #danny phantom #team ghost

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lightforthedeadvine · 4 years ago

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Title: How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

Author: @lightforthedeadvine – Anwamane_13 on AO3

Written for: @localwhiskeylez

Gift Exchange: @destielsecretsanta2020

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Word count: 11.905

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

AN: Wow, I can't believe it's done! I really hope you like it, @localwhiskeylez! Sorry for any typos, English is not my first language. Merry Christmas!

How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

How Dean Winchester realizes that the love of his life is his best friend and, being the moron that he is, it only happens after he's already dead.

INTRODUCTION

This article seeks to help the reader to solve unfinished business during their life on Earth. It is an observational interventionist study, based on the author's life. Some angels and demons were injured during the execution of the study, but the fact only serves as a background to illustrate the situations in which the author found himself and are important for the understanding of the facts.

1- When you’re still alive, be emotionally constipated.

Cas dies and Dean can’t get up, can’t look anywhere except at his wings, frail and broken shadows engraved on the ground. This is it. This time Cas’ death is for good. Dean isn’t ready for this, he can’t deal with this, he needs to get up and pretend he’s not there, kneeling on the ground next to his best friend’s body. His mind is empty and too full at the same time.

The thing is, Cas has died before, but Dean had never been left with his body to deal with. It makes his death more real somehow. So, he wraps the body with the old curtains, and he refuses Sam’s help. He doesn’t need anyone right now. They burn Cas, a hunter’s funeral. Dean listens to Sam trying to explain to a confused Jack that it’s time to say goodbye, but he can’t say anything. The flames are high and Dean can’t stop thinking that Cas deserved so much better than this. In the back of his mind there’s something he should have done, something he should have said, some way he could have showed Cas how appreciated he was. But Dean is not sure what it is, and he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to feel anything, or rather, he can’t look at what he’s feeling too closely, or he’ll lose it.

Later, he loses it in booze, he punches the door until his knuckles bleed, he hates everything, he yells at Sam, he wishes he’d had kept Cas’ coat, so he could keep it in the Impala’s trunk, like before. He’s not sad, he’s furious. Stupid angel, getting himself killed like that. Stupid, stupid angel. Sam, the giant girl that he is, wants to talk, but Dean snorts and refuses to acknowledge anything that resembles a chick flick moment.

He doesn’t cry.

2- When someone tells you he loves you, don’t say anything.

“I love you”, Cas says, and he puts his bloodied hand on Dean’s shoulder. He pushes Dean to the floor, and when the Empty comes, Cas has a slight smile on his lips. He looks… in peace, almost. Angelic. And then he’s gone.

Dean thinks “why didn’t he tell me about the deal” and “this can’t be real” and “I need him to come back”. He looks at the wall and there’s nothing there indicating that his friend, the best friend one could ever have, just vanished through it.

Dean’s mind is running so fast he can barely keep up with it. Cas’ ‘I love you’ keeps ringing in his ears, playing in the back of his head, like a broken record. Dean is astonished. He had no idea. He didn’t know. He feels that this ‘I love you’ was very different from the ‘I love you, all of you’ Cas said when Crowley saved him from dying poisoned, with Dean, Sam and Mary not knowing what to do, how to stop Cas‘ death. Dean knows Cas meant a whole different thing this time; he could see it in Cas’ eyes. This time Cas meant the love kind of love. Dean had no idea an angel could even feel this kind of love. But if he knew, would it have changed anything? It’s not as if Dean would say it back, it’s not as if he deserves this love, an angel’s love. For fuck’s sake, it’s ludicrous.

Dean said nothing, he just kept shaking his head no and saying dumb things like ‘what are you talking about’ and ‘don’t do this’. He said nothing meaningful in Cas’ last moments, nothing his best friend could take with him to the Empty to justify the sacrifice he was making. He wonders if Cas thought he didn’t care, but probably not, because the stupid angel has always seen the best in him; something Dean is not even sure it’s there.

Cas said he loved Dean. And Dean didn’t say anything. He has no idea what he could have said, but he should have said something. Anything. Cas gave his life to save Dean’s, and Dean just stood there; just let him go.

His cell phone rings but Dean has no idea how to answer it. He looks at the wall again. He can’t speak right now, he’s not even worthy of speaking right now. Dean puts his hands on his head, cover his eyes, tries to leave the world outside for a while longer. His head, his heart, his whole being hurts.

This time he cries. This time Dean sobs.

3- After losing someone you care about, live the rest of your life pretending you’re ok with it.

Miracle jumps on the bed and Dean holds his dog close for a while, taking comfort from his furry best friend. They grew very attached to each other, and so far, no one has come to claim the dog, so Dean is confident he’ll be able to keep it for good. He gets up, getting ready for another day of Sam making breakfast, going for a run, maybe calling Eileen or Jody and Donna. Dean will walk Miracle, maybe. Watch old reruns, make pancakes, even though Sam will complain one shouldn’t eat breakfast food for lunch, and have a tasteless salad, as always. Dean doesn’t care, Miracle will help him with the stack of pancakes. He still needs to finish filling the job application on his desk, but he’s not in a hurry. He has all the time in the world, right? No one is controlling them now, and Jack sounded like he’d let things run free.

When Sam mentions Jack and Cas, Dean says they should keep on living, because that’s what Jack and Cas would want them to do. The truth is, he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he shoves a huge piece of pie into his mouth. He knows Jack is around, in every drop of rain and every wind, and inside and out of the bunker, like he said… but Dean’s almost sure they’re never gonna see him again, and he misses the kid. As for Cas… Dean has no idea what the Empty’s like, but an eternity of nothing sounds like an endless punishment worse than hell, and once again, he can’t help thinking that Cas deserved better. Before he can think how much he misses his best friend, he decides to focus on anything other than the dull ache inside him every time he thinks of Cas’ sacrifice. Cas died so they could live, and they’re gonna live, dammit.

Sam pushes pie into Dean’s face and hearing his laugh makes Dean think that everything is gonna be alright, eventually. His baby brother’s laugh is one of the things that keeps him going these days. He’s grateful for that. Content, if not happy.

4- A crucial point for doing something after being dead is dying. So… die.

This one is hard to explain.

Dean doesn’t want to die. But as it is, death comes in the most stupid way possible, and he doesn’t want to fight anymore. He’s tired. He doesn’t want Sam to call an ambulance, because it’s not gonna work and he doesn’t want the kid to get his hopes up. The rusty thing inside his lungs hurt like a motherfucker, it’s getting hart to breathe and his mind is fuzzy.

Sammy, he thinks. Sammy’s the most important thing here. Dean needs to tell his little brother how much he loves him, because he knows he hasn’t said it enough. He needs Sam to know he’s always been the most important thing in his life, ever since John put baby Sam in his arms inside a burning house and told Dean to protect him. He needs Sam to know that Dean doesn’t regret being Sam’s mother, father, old brother and friend; he doesn’t regret not having a childhood because he knows, he knows, he gave Sam one; at least the best he could. Dean needs Sam to tell him he’ll be alright; that Dean can go in peace; that Sam will get a life for himself after this.

4.1 - Ignore any mention of your best friend and give only a small smile when being told he’s not in the Empty anymore;

‘Cas helped’, Bobby says. Jack made this incredible Heaven for everyone and Cas helped. Bobby arches one eyebrow when he mentions Cas, and Dean pretends he doesn’t notice. He smiles slightly, comforted by the fact that his friend is not in the Empty anymore. He hoped, no, he knew Jack would set his chosen father free, but somehow, he never asked him. He doesn’t know why. He could say he was in some kind of daze, caused by the shock of everything that had just happened, but… it’s not an excuse; he should have asked Jack about Cas, and he didn’t. Sometimes Dean is really stupid.

4.2 - Spend forty something years driving and waiting for your brother to join you in the afterlife.

Suddenly, Baby is there.

Although time moves different in Heaven, it’s a bit, well, a lot strange that right at the end of the long road, probably the Axis Mundi, Sam is there in the fucking bridge, as if he’d been waiting for Dean. Has Dean just spent forty years driving? Really? What about Mom and Dad? Why didn’t Dean go see them? What about Ellen and Jo, probably right there inside the Roadhouse, where Bobby was… why didn’t Dean get inside? What about Cas? Isn’t it strange that Cas wasn’t there to welcome him to the afterlife? And… Dean didn’t do anything except wait for his brother for four decades? This is surreal.

The happiness he fells when he hears Sam’s voice, though, is indescribable. Somehow, he knows time has passed and Sam had a life, a fucking normal apple pie life, and Dean is so, so grateful his brother got to have that. As for him, he can finally stop worrying about the kid. Sam has always been Dean’s everything, and now it’s as if… his work is done.

“Eileen and I… it didn’t work; she… was traumatized, I guess. Being around a Winchester was more dangerous than any monster,” Sam says when they’re in the car, returning home, wherever the heck ‘home’ is. “And Dean’s mother… she got pregnant; we hadn’t planned anything. She, um… didn’t know I was a hunter, so I kind of… I retired, started working as a paralegal. But we were too different, it didn’t work anyway, and she left when Dean was fifteen.”

“Dude, you named your kid after me?” Dean is all smiles.

“Dean Robert Winchester,” Sam says, proudly. “A great kid. Preferred his ink on his right arm.”

“You didn’t raise him as a hunter, did you?”

“Hell no,” Sam snorts, “but here and there a hunter came looking for advice, and… the kid was smart, figured there was something strange going on. And on his sixteenth birthday a shapeshifter moved to our backyard, so…”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the bunker?” Dean wants to know. If Sam worked in a law firm, what happened to the bunker?

Sam suddenly looks uncomfortable. “I, um… I gave it to Jody, Donna and the girls. They did a great job over the years, built a really big net, organized the branches… Claire and Kaia, they’re, like, top hunters in the country now.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Dude, that’s great, but…”

“I couldn’t do it, Dean,” Sam says in a hurry, earnest. “It wasn’t the same without you. There was no one else. I was alone, and I… I just couldn’t.”

Dean pretends he doesn’t feel a pang in his chest at hearing how bad it was for Sam. But hey, heaven or not, he’s not gonna start a sharing and caring scene with Sam now, right? “What about Miracle?”

“Lived for twelve years more, was Dean’s best friend.”

“Dude, I’m never gonna get used to this. You named your kid after me. Wow, I mean… I know I’m important, but… didn’t know you couldn’t live without a Dean in your life,” Dean jokes.

But Sam is serious. “I really couldn’t.”

“No chick flick moments, Samantha,” Dean tries to lighten the mood, because, shit. He expected Sam to miss him, of course… but not like this.

Sam appears to take the bait. “Jerk.”

Dean laughs. “Bitch.”

5- In Heaven, pretend you’re not looking for your Angel best friend.

Mary and John live not far from the Roadhouse, just like Bobby said. Their house is a replica of the Lawrence house, the one that caught fire. Dean thinks it’s creepy that Mary ends up living in the same house in which she died, but hey, she seems happy. They both do.

“So, dad, how did you get this house? Not that I remember much of it, but me and Dean, we went back there for a case,” Sam asks, eyeing Mary, because well, she was the ghost that lived there. She just smiles quietly at him. “From what I can see, it seems just like the old one.”

John looks different. At peace. The lines on his face seem softer, leaving him with a younger appearance. Mary’s presence did this, Dean can’t help thinking. Having a forever with the love of your life can do this to a person. Not that Dean knows from experience since he’s never had a… never mind. Lisa was never the love of his life, and Dean doesn’t want to think about her; still hurts.

His father’s eyes radiate happiness. It’s a bit strange, in a good way. “We were together in our private heaven,” he tells. “But I confess, it was a little boring, because it never changed. Then they came,” he shrugs, “and everything changed.”

“They?” Dean asks.

Mary smiles. “Mostly, Jack. He came and… we had a serious talk. It was never his fault, how I came here. He was distressed, and I pushed too hard.” She holds John’s hand. “Jack said we shouldn’t be separated from the ones we loved, because there is space for everyone. So he opened all the doors, fixed all the bridges, and suddenly our friends, family… they were all there. We started to build a heaven where we could all live together…”

“And Cas suggested it would be a good idea if we lived in our old house,” John finishes. “He built this for us exactly as we remembered it.”

Dean arches his eyebrows. Cas? Since when is his father on a nickname basis with Cas? “You know him? Cas?” he can’t help asking.

“Of course he knows Cas,” Mary laughs. “he’s Jack’s right arm. Everyone knows him.”

“And where is he?” Dean asks.

Mary shrugs. “Around,” she says enigmatically.

Okay. Dean frowns a little. A guy dies and his best friend doesn’t come to greet him? Then he changes the subject, because really? Not a pleasant thing to think about.

-------

Ellen and Jo are still in the Roadhouse by the time Dean gets back there. Sam stayed behind with their parents. But Dean suddenly needs to see everything and everyone. As if he has already lost too much time. And, maybe he has, driving through the Axis Mundi, waiting for Sam. But hey, now he has all of eternity, right?

“So, how does it work? This heaven?” he asks, while Ellen pours him a one more shot of Johnny Walker.

“We just… live. We do what we want and see who we want. When Cas built this place for us, ‘cause I said I preferred to work; you know me, I’m no woman to sit still… anyways, he said that the things we’ve always wanted to do, but it was never the right time…”

“Or…” Jo smiles, standing beside her mother, “we were always busy killing the next monster… well, these things, we could do them all now, you know? And… it’s freeing, really.”

“Cas built this place” Dean repeats like a parrot, not really paying attention to what they’re saying. “You mean my friend, Cas.”

Ellen raises her eyebrows. “Do you know any other Cas?”

“Nope.”

It’s annoying, really. Cas built the Roadhouse for Ellen and Jo? That’s great, they more than deserve it, but… he didn’t take the time to see Dean when he arrived?

------

Things are starting to get ridiculous.

Dean has visited and met a lot of people since he arrived. And apparently, since Jack decided to rebuild heaven, Cas has:

a) Built a house for Bobby and Karen, and the woman was delighted by his manners. Such a handsome and polite ‘boy’.

b) Found Charlie’s mother, Gertrude Middleton, they had a teary and wonderful reunion and now they live together by the mountains, where the internet (in Heaven? Huh…) is better than any other place on Earth.

c) Rescued Kevin from ghost-life. The boy spends his days playing cello and going on dates with Channing. Linda Tran is around too.

d) Eileen died on a hunt a few years after Dean. Cas found her parents and she finally found her happy ever after with them.

e) Gave back Pamela’s eyes, and the psychic went traveling around the heaven-world, eager to seeeverything.

So, it’s Cas this, Cas that, blah blah blah. Dean is getting annoyed.

Oh! On top of that, Kelly Kline apparently sees him a lot. In fact, she sees him more than she sees her own son, since Jack is always busy being the almighty and all. How does Dean know? He finds Kelly by chance while walking around, and as soon as she greets him, she asks “Have you seen Castiel yet?” with a knowing smile. He hasn’t, of course. And then she wastes no time telling him how wonderful Cas is for helping Jack with the heaven thing, since her son is young and has a lot to do. Apparently, Cas and Kelly spend a lot of time together, talking. Dean changes the subject and leaves as soon as he can. He is not jealous, of course. Of course not.

Dean is not only annoyed now. He’s a little hurt. As if his friendship didn’t really mean anything for the angel. Part of him thinks it’s stupid, because Cas loves him, he said so, didn’t he? But his absence is telling. Somehow, Dean knows Cas doesn’t want to see him. He just knows.

6- When you see him, try to talk about the elephant in the room, even if he clearly doesn’t want to.

It’s a bit strange, this heaven Jack has created. Because now time seems linear, and Dean has no idea how this happened, since it went by so fast before Sam arrived. But now there are days and nights and an endless string of people Dean wants to see and spend time with. So much, that he has no idea where he’s supposed to live, but he doesn’t ask anyone. He sleeps at his parent’s house, or Charlie’s place, or at Bobby’s. It’s a wonder he sleeps at all, because he really doesn’t need it; he’s dead, they all are. But they eat and drink and sleep, and they have long, long talks, like a never-ending party with all the burgers, pies and beer Dean could ever want.

It’s great.

Also, it feels a little bit… empty.

So, Christmas comes. Apparently, this is a special time in heaven too. There’s a party at the park and Dean finds himself in charge of the cheeseburgers. He’s there, by the grill, flipping the patties and making sure they don’t burn. Then Dean sees him.

He’s standing by the lake. Different clothes, the dark jeans and blue t-shirt look so unusual for him, but Dean would recognize that head of dark hair anywhere. Cas is not looking at him, he’s talking to a couple, an open smile on his face, so different from the burdened expression he always wore. Dean forgets about the grill and everything else. He just walks towards him, his heart thundering in his chest and a million questions in his head.

“Cas!” he calls before he reaches him, arms opening to hug him, and Cas turn his head, his very blue eyes wide and …

Oh.

There’s no immediate recognition in those eyes.

It’s not Cas. It’s Jimmy Novak.

Dean’s arms fall. “Jimmy,” he says, just to make sure. He deflates like an empty balloon.

“You’re… Dean, right?” Jimmy says, and shit, Dean should have never had mistaken him with Cas. His eyes are exactly the same, but Cas’ eyes sparkle when they look at Dean, and Jimmy’s just… don’t. And the voice, there’s no way this… generic, normal voice could ever belong to Cas. Even his relaxed posture is completely different than Cas’.

“Yeah. Dean Winchester,” he says, because now he has to make small talk with the guy, and he really, really doesn’t want to. His chest gives a funny pang looking at him, and Dean thinks of Claire, for the first time really understanding what she went through whenever she looked at Cas and thought of her father. Dean is looking at one, wanting to see the other, because they look the same but they’re so, so different, and it’s just...disappointing doesn’t even get close.

“It’s good to see you, Dean,” Jimmy says solemnly. “Is your brother well?”

“Yeah, he’s… around.” Dean says, looking around, already knowing he won’t find Sam here, because his brother found Bobby’s library and, the big nerd he is, he must be reading somewhere, even though they don’t hunt anymore. “But there’s so much lore here, Dean!” he’s said, eyes sparkling.

“That’s great,” Jimmy says, and then he frowns a little. “Where’s Castiel?”

“How the hell will I know?” Dean lets out, the he looks at Jimmy apologetically. “Haven’t seen him.”

Now Jimmy looks a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, I’ve just put my foot in my mouth. It’s just that – that Castiel was always thinking about you when we were sharing my – my -” he gestures at himself.

They’re both saved by a burning smell.

“The burgers are burning, you idjit!” Bobby screams from somewhere, and Dean just looks at Jimmy, gives him a yellow half-smile and leaves, relieved. He never loved the smell of burning burgers so much.

----

It’s late, everyone has gone home. Dean doesn’t have a home to go to, and he really doesn’t care about it right now. He’d be there alone, anyway. He has no idea how much time has passed since he came here, and it’s a bit disorienting. He’s sitting by the pond, where he saw Jimmy earlier. He’d be drinking right now, if he thought it would help him forget. Can you get drunk when you’re dead?

He’s not an ungrateful bastard. He knows he’s in heaven, and it’s – it’s just great, something he’d never thought he’d have. And wow, his family and dearest friends are here with him, and things couldn’t be better. He’s grateful for everything, and if Jack were here, he’d hug the hell out of the kid. Um… deity. Almighty. Whatever. Still, he’s one third Dean’s son, so he’ll call him kid if he wants to.

The thing is, somehow, he wants more. More than eternal happiness, and he feels a bastard for not being satisfied with eternal bliss. But he misses having something to worry about. He misses the bunker. Shit, he even misses hunting, even though thinking about his last hunt gives him chills. But most of all, he misses having Sam, Jack and Cas by his side, the four of them against the world. He misses Cas’ eyerolls, his deadpan lines, his lack of notion about personal space. His hand on Dean’s shoulder, eyes solemn, glistening –

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Before he knows it, Dean is half-keeling on the grass. “Cas, buddy, you got your ears on?” he prays, like he did so many times before. “I – I hope you can hear me, that you’re alright, that you’re happy now that you’re back home.” He sighs. He has no idea what to say. “I never thought I’d get a chance to pray to you again, but here I am.” Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to go on. “I miss you, man. And – and I know you’re avoiding me… I mean, I know I was a dick to you for so long that maybe – maybe you don’t wanna see me? You could… at least come and say goodbye, you know? I hear you see and help everyone and you never, never come to see me. And I have no idea why.”

A bark makes him look around, and suddenly a light brown, furry dog jumps on his arms. He half-falls sitting on the grass while he hugs his companion from long ago. “Miracle!” he greets the dog, and his heart feels lighter already just for seeing him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns his head so fast his neck hurts a little. “Cas,” he breathes. “You’re here.”

“Yes, um…” Cas gestures at Miracle. “I found your dog.” He’s dressed as always, white shirt, black suit, tan trench coat, tie askew. He looks awesome. He’s a few steps away, and he doesn’t come closer. The smile he gives Dean doesn’t exactly reaches his eyes; not that Cas smiled a lot. But he’s looking at Miracle now, like he’s avoiding looking at Dean. ”I hope all is well with you…?” he says lamely.

“All is – “ Dean sputters, disbelieving. “That’s what you have to say?” he closes the distance between them, stopping a few centimeters from Cas. “Where the hell have you been? I arrived here ages ago, and you haven’t come to see me.”

“Bobby was here to greet you.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Bobby, Mom, Dad, Charlie, Jo, Ellen… even Jimmy freakin’ Novak. Everyone except you.”

Cas opens his mouth and starts to shrug, then aborts the movement, still looking at Miracle, perched on a log. “You don’t need me, Dean. You already have all you wanted. I made sure you have everything you could possibly want; everyone you love is here. Why should I come?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean’s not sure he should be swearing in heaven, but hey, he was brought here like this, so they’ll just have to deal with him this way. “Because we’re friends, asshole!” he says, exasperated. Then, quieter, “because I missed you.”

“It’s not of import, you’re with your loved ones now.” Cas says, awkwardly. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, and – “

“Stop it, Cas,” Dean says, frowning. This is not how he expected their reunion to be. “What’re you talking about? I missed you man, every minute of every day, and – “

Cas finally looks at Dean, and he looks so sad Dean almost pinches himself to make sure he’s awake. “Jack had just rescued me from the Empty and he asked if I wanted to see you, and – “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you were brought back and you didn’t come to us?”

“I saw you, Dean. You were happy. Eating pie, laughing with Sam. And I decided to step aside and just let you have the life you deserve. You and your brother together, like it was before heaven and hell came into your lives.”

Dean throws his hands in the air. “You’re an idiot, Cas, come on! Is that why you never came?”

Cas shrugs. “I know we angels gave you a lot of sorrow, and you have no idea how much I regret everything my brethren and my father put you through.”

Dean huffs a breath. “Not your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I was one more pawn in the game at first ,but I became the one closest to you. And every time I tried to do something right, I just brought you more grief,” Cas rambles on, “and if I had just stayed away, maybe things would’ve been easier. All the mistakes I’ve done… all the times I let you down…”

“That’s bullshit, Cas. What the fuck are you talking about? Since when I, we, didn’t want your company?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean, I didn’t want to burden you anymore. I thought that… it was better that I stayed gone, and…eventually you and Sam would be alright.

“Oh, that’s so like you, Cas! Deciding things about my so-called wellbeing without telling me! Is this how you show you love me? Staying away?”

Dean’s eyes widen. Where the fuck did that come from? What the hell happened to his tongue?

Cas’ breath hitches and he looks at the ground, and even in the dark Dean can see his cheeks turning pink. Such a human thing…

“Dean,” Cas says, and shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Dean knows what this is about. He feels guilty already, because the last time they saw each other, Cas spilled his heart on the damn floor and Dean just stayed there, looking. “Don’t what, Cas?” he asks softly.

“You don’t have to say anything about… that. I said my piece, I… I spoke my truth. That truth still stands, it will always stand. Part of the reason I said it was because I thought… that I wasn’t coming back. But here I am, and here you are and, and I know how you feel. Rather, I know how you don’t feel. So, you don’t have to say anything, or do anything. It’s okay. Only… it may take some time before I fell less… mortified in your presence.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas has practically just said that the – the love thing was true. Is true. Well, Dean was the one that started this particular subject, the asshole that he is.

“Cas…” he knows he needs to say something, even if it’s not what Cas maybe would like him to say. “I had no idea you even could feel like that. I’m not, I’m - “

“If you’re going to say you’re not worth it, don’t bother. I stand by what I said, and every word is true. You’re the best human being I have ever known, and I’d like that you at least give me the courtesy of believing in my words.”

Dean is speechless. Once more, Cas is spilling his guts and Dean is silent. He’d kick himself in the ribs if he could. His courage had dropped to the floor somewhere, but he finds it. “Was it my silence that made you leave? That made you do that? ‘Cause if it was, it’s on my top five worst mistakes.”

“It was to save your life. I couldn’t let Billie take you.”

“So you made me watch the Empty take you instead,” Dean deadpans.

“I had to. It was that or letting you die, and I couldn’t let her hurt you and do nothing. I’m expendable, Dean. Always have been. In heaven, on earth. But in that moment, I mattered.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean shakes his head. “You’ve always mattered to me. And coming here and not seeing you? Knowing you were around the whole time? It was a shitty move, Cas.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but he suddenly stops. He closes his eyes and frowns, as if hearing something. “I’m needed elsewhere,” he says. “I have to go.”

“What, now?”

“Yes.”

Cas was never a specialist at Goodbyes. Curiously, Goodbye was the last thing he said before he died.

There’s a bright light, a white-blue bright thing that starts on Cas’ eyes and grows, grows until all Dean can see is light. Cas is not there anymore, but there’s a huge beam floating against the night sky. Dean can see the tips of two huge, white wings coming out of the white-blue light. The words “multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent” comes to his mind and he knows that he’s looking at Cas’ true form. Even though it’s probably wise not to look directly at it, Dean can’t turn away and, well, maybe one of the perks of being dead is that he can look all he wants and his eyes are still working. Cas is awesome.

Now Dean is truly speechless. He’s never seen something so wonderful in all his life/death. In awe, he sees Cas going higher and higher, and he murmurs, more to himself, “Don’t take too long to come back, Cas.”

“I won’t,” he kind of knows, halfway between his head and his chest. What he really hears is a high-pitched sound that he knows it’s Cas’ true voice, but now his ears don’t bleed and he can understand what he’s saying. Wow.

The last thing he wonders before Cas goes up so fast that he looks like a comet, disappearing in the starry sky, is how can someone so fucking amazing like that can have such a low opinion of himself.

7- Pretend you’re ok with the fact that you never see him anymore. Eavesdrop every conversation to try to get a clue of his whereabouts.

“There’s some kind of rebellion up north,” Jack says. “Castiel was called to help with it.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Sam asks.

They’re in the bunker, of all things. Cas hasn’t come back, but here and there he comes to see Dean in his dreams, and at first Dean thought it was a regular dream, until Cas told him that the bunker was ready, and if he wanted to move there, he could.

And there was a freaking awesome replica of the bunker up the hill; the only home Dean ever remembers besides Baby, minus the dungeons and the endless corridors. But the important parts are there: the war room, the kitchen, bedrooms, library, garage, Dean’s cave. Sam decided to live there with him, and it’s been a week – or is it a month? Hard to keep track of things here – when Jack finally came to visit. He asked for a homemade burger, of all things, Dean’s homemade burger, and before he started, Dean was going to ask him if he wanted chili sauce with it. So, he isn’t eavesdropping, he’s not a gossip kind of guy. But Jack and Sam are talking in the war room, and when he hears Cas’ name, Dean stops before they can see him.

“Because the rebellion is about me, partly, Castiel thinks it’s not wise that I go. I trust his judgement.” Jack says. “Some angels think I’m too young to rule the universe.”

“You are pretty young,” Sam snorts.

“Well, there’s the fact that some of them still resent Castiel because of his past actions. It’s hard to forget he said yes to the devil, and I’m afraid an angel’s memory is endless. Theirs certainly is.”

“He did that so I didn’t have to,” Sam says, regret in his voice.

“Of course he did.” Jack’s voice is laced with amusement. “Everything Castiel did since he rescued Dean from hell was to protect him; then you two; and, in the end, me too. He’s the most human angel I’ve ever known; he has a heart. That’s why my mother chose him to protect me.”

“He wasn’t always like this.”

“Oh, I know, he was a dick, Dean told me. Like all the other angels here. I’m trying to teach them how to think for themselves, but it takes time. And every time a group decides I’m too young to rule, or Castiel is still unreliable, or both, he goes there and tries to convince them to come back.”

There’s silence for a while, and Dean is caught between wanting to step inside or waiting to hear more about Cas.

“I suppose I should be glad,” Jack goes on. “If they decide to go against us, it means they’re starting to understand free will. If Castiel changed, so can they. Although, he’s always had an incentive, which they lack. Anyway, Castiel is good at convincing them; even if he’s my father, he wouldn’t be my commander if he wasn’t a good strategist.”

“Nepotism, huh?”

“Not at all. I offered to turn him into an archangel, since there’s no one left… but he insisted he wanted to remain a seraph. He’s very down to earth, so to speak.”

“Will he be alright?” There’s worry in Sam’s voice. “Won’t they get… I don’t know... violent?”

“Oh, don’t worry. He can handle them. Besides, if they kill him, I’ll just bring him back.”

“What the fuck?” Dean almost yells, finally going inside. “You’re just gonna let him die? What the fuck, Jack? Dying hurts!”

“So, you were eavesdropping, Dean,” Jack laughs. “and yes, I want chili sauce in my burger.”

“You knew I was here?” Dean knows his face must be comically red now, but he doesn’t care.

“I know everything,” Jack simply says, “and Bobby Singer was teaching me about pranks and sarcasm the other day, so I decided to do a little test.”

“With me,” Dean deadpans.

“Yup!” Then Jack says, more serious. “He won’t die here, Dean. I have his back.”

-----

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Jack comes to the kitchen when Dean’s doing the dishes, after dinner. Sam is… somewhere under a pile of books, probably.

Dean just shrugs.

“I know you worry about him,” Jack continues, “I worry too. But Castiel is very, very old. And wise. He may not have always known what he was doing in the past, but he knows now. He’s in his element. You should see him in battle,” there’s pride on Jack’s voice. “he’s spectacular.”

Dean thinks of Cas’ true form and the way he gives every bit of his focus in a fight, and well, he has to agree with Jack, Cas fighting in heaven must be something to behold.

“He went furious when he knew you were going to die; he spent ages complaining about how you were supposed to have a long and happy life. And then he built this part of heaven for you himself. But… dying young was always in the cards for you, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dean shrugs again. “I’m happy now. And I didn’t want to have gray hair anyway. Been there, done that, didn’t like it.”

“Are you, really?” Jack asks. “Happy?” He looks genuinely worried, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“If you know everything, smartass, why do you ask?” Since Jack knew about the chili sauce before Dean said anything, it stands to reason that he knows every freaking thing inside Dean’s head, right? “And stop reading my thoughts.”

“So, stop projecting them everywhere,” Jack arches one eyebrow. “You make it really difficult not to listen. And when I ask if you’re happy, it’s not because I want to know. It’s because I want you to know. There’s a lot of things you already know but you don’t realize. Not yet.”

“Like what?” Dean is getting annoyed by this enigmatic version of the kid.

“Oh, you’ll get there,” Jack pats his shoulder solemnly. “You’ll get there. Now, how about getting a job, so you and Sam don’t get too bored?”

-----

The job Jack found them was as “newcomers’ advisors”. Apparently not everyone is okay with dying. Hunters are particularly difficult to come to terms with the idea. So Dean, Sam, Eileen and Bobby help them getting used to it.

Mostly, they talk. They show them the neighborhood, explain how heaven works. Help building their houses, finding their loved ones, keeping track of family that’s still on Earth, things like that. It’s something to do, and Dean’s glad to have this to fill his days. Like Ellen said, he’s a hunter; he can’t stay home and do nothing but an endless string of family and friends’ reunions. The boredom would kill him if he wasn’t already dead.

It’s a good thing Jack has been doing here. Heaven residents are organized in teams and they have work to do. If they want to, of course. No one is obligated to do anything they don’t want to. But there’s still a lot to build in heaven, it’s a huge place after all, so there’s work for everyone. People who’s been dead the longest and lived isolated in the eternal loop of their private heavens, have a little more difficulty adapting to changes; but they have literally all the time in the world. Feeling useful does wonders for Dean. Life goes on as it should. Well, not life, per se, but still a good one.

Cas never comes. He keeps appearing in Dean’s dreams here and there, and they talk about nothing and everything, like they always did. Sometimes, he watches Dean fishing, standing on the pier by his side; other times they just drink beer and talk side by side inside the Impala. Dean misses seeing him in person, though. He can’t exactly feel when Cas touches his shoulder, or when he pats his back. Well, he can, but it’s a muffled sensation somehow, the ghost of a touch.

And it’s not enough.

8- When confronted with the fact that he’s more BAMF that you had realized, pretend you’re neither impressed nor slightly turned on.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says one evening, when he is in Dean’s cave watching Doctor Sexy reruns.

Dean raises his head to look at him and – Whoa!

Cas is in a golden armor, holding a huge sword, expression solemn. He… glows. Like, there are little sparks of light floating around him. And his wings… wow. Huge, beautiful black wings, making him officially the most amazing creature Dean has ever seen.

“Cas!” he says dumbly, and he can’t stop staring. He has the vague notion that he needs to close his mouth, but he’s in too much of an awe to do it.

“I need your help,” is all Cas says, and he puts his hand on Dean’s arm and –

They’re outside, in the bunker’s rooftop, which is an awesome place to be, because Cas built it on a hill, the sky seems so close and you can see the lights of people’s houses down below. It’s almost as if you’re suspended between heaven and Earth.

“You alright?” Dean asks when Cas winces a bit after they land.

“Just a minor scratch.”

“Lemme take a look,” Dean says, his hands already on Cas’ shoulders, looking for a way to take the armor off him.”

“We don’t have time. We need to go to hell.”

Dean blinks. “Come again?”

“Rowena, she sent me a message. Apparently, the rogue group of angels that didn’t want to follow Jack, joined with a group of her demons who were showing… discontentment with her leadership. They’re wreaking havoc down there and Rowena’s having a hard time controlling everything.”

“So heaven will help hell. Huh.”

Cas shakes his head no. “Not heaven. Just me. No other angel would follow me down there. But, as you see, I’m a bit hurt and I can’t go on my own. I was thinking that maybe you and Sam could help me.”

“What about Jack?”

“I can’t contact him now. He’s in the Empty again.”

“Why???”

“We need archangels, Dean. Heaven is too big, and we need someone with power enough to contain everything while others rebuild. I – I can’t do everything alone, and… we need someone with more power, who’s not Jack, in case he needs to be away for a while. And I – I don’t want more power. We already know how I acted when I had more power than I could deal with. More pride than compassion.”

“Come on, Cas, that wasn’t you,” Dean reasons.

Cas gives him a curt and serious nod, like he’s saying, “I don’t agree and I don’t want to go on with this subject.” But what he says is “Jack went there to try to find and rescue Gabriel. He won’t be back anytime soon. Will you help me?”

------

Of course Dean will help him. And so will Sam, Eileen, Bobby, Mary, John, Rufus, Ellen, Jo. Some of them are a bit worried about going to that place – well, it’s hell. But they don’t shy off a good fight, and most were already missing their old hunter’s life, with the absolute lack of things that go bump in the quiet nights around here.

9 - Here is the part where you have an epiphany and see that, even dead, you’re still emotionally constipated, and you fell in love with him.

“Cas, wake up. Please.”

Dean holds Cas’ head between his hands, but the angel’s eyes remain closed. He doesn’t need to breathe, so there’s no way for Dean to be sure he’s alive. Rowena said he is, but still, the lack of movement in unnerving.

“You sure you can’t help him?” he practically roars at her. “Isn’t there anything you can do? What kind of witch are you?”

“The dead kind, dear,” Rowena answers drily. “I still have my powers, but they obviously don’t work here.” She looks around. “I’m amazed I was even allowed to enter this place. It’s… a little on the ordinary side.”

Since there was no one with enough power to open a portal for them, they lay siege in hell the old, fashioned way. Cas knew a backdoor, but it was, of course, guarded. Half the group came in from the front and the other half from behind. A few more hunters, recruited at the last minute, formed a group of twenty something people. Cas, the badass he was, came in from above, breaking everything on his way (“Just as I did when I rescued you, Dean,” he said).

Of course, things went wrong. Of course. None of the hunters died, because first: they were already dead and, second: every single one of them had killed demons before.

The angels were a whole different thing. Sam and Dean went straight for them, no time to waste. Despite their experience in dealing with them, these ones were more than dicks: they were angry dicks. “Winchester,” one of them snarled, as if it was an insult, and their attack was fierce and fast. But Sam and Dean knew a lot of fighting tactics and, little by little, they made their way towards the throne room.

Rowena was nowhere to be seen, but behind a huge, closed metal door, Dean heard her yelling “Take your angel hands off me!”

After a while, the group of hunters dealing with the - now dead - demons joined them and, together, they start getting rid of the angels. Dean didn’t know the repercussions of killing an angel in hell, and frankly, he didn’t care. It was hard to believe the dicks were together with the demons in a plan to restart, once more, the freaking apocalypse. Again. One more time. But it was true, Cas had told then on their way here. Besides being dicks, they had no imagination. Getting rid of them was long overdue.

Sam kicks the metal door when they hear a whooshing sound.

Inside, Cas has Rowena in his arms. Around them, several dead angels. She looks a little dizzy, her head on his shoulder. He looks a little winded, and he gasps “We need to leave,” before disappearing in a beam of light. Dean and the others need to go back the way they did: going up seven levels of steep stairs.

When they arrive back in heaven, Dean has no idea where Cas and Rowena went, but on a hunch, he goes to the bunker. Rowena is sitting at the war room, elbows on the table, red hair in disarray, head in hands. She looks shaken.

“Cas?” is all Dean asks.

“In your room,” she answers.

So, here they are. Cas is on Dean’s bed, still in his armor. Dean has no idea how to remove it, and he’s afraid to move him.

“One of the angels had a blade near my throat,” Rowena’s voice trembles slightly. “Castiel started to talk to him, trying to convince him to let me go. The other came from behind and he didn’t duck in time.” She opens her hand and shows them an angel blade, dirty with something slimy, silvery and shiny, almost like mercury.

Angel blood. Cas’ real blood.

“It didn’t go all the way in,” Rowena says. “I think he collapsed as soon as we got here. When I came to myself, we were on the floor. I helped him get to your room. He closed his eyes and…” she trails off.

Dean nods slightly. “Cas…?” he tries again. But Cas is still like a marble statue. All Dean can think of is that Cas was already hurt when they went to hell, and on top of that he was stabbed, and now he – he shakes his head to send the dark thoughts away. Cas can’t die here, can he? Dean has just killed a couple of angels a few hours ago, but they were in hell. Do angels die in heaven?

“Dean?”

Jack’s voice is like music to Dean’s ears. The young man stops by the door, all wide eyes. He approaches them slowly, staring at Cas. When he gets close, he puts a hand on Cas’ chest and closes his eyes. For a few seconds they just stay there, completely still, as if suspended in time, but Dean’s heart is aching inside his chest, so he knows this isn’t a nightmare.

“There,” Jack says. “I closed all the wounds.”

“All the wounds?” Dean asks, dumbfounded. “As in, a lot?”

“Too many,” Jack answers. “Angels fight aiming to kill, never to just hurt. But he’s going to be alright now.”

“He’s still not waking up.”

“The damage was in his true form, no less. He needs some time to recover, to replenish his grace. He’ll wake up, Dean. He’ll be alright.”

Dean can’t hold an angry huff. “Stupid angel. He had to go and help Rowena and put himself in danger like that.”

Jack shrugs. “He always felt at least partially responsible for what happened to her. After I brought him here, they kept in touch.”

“So like Cas,” Dean shakes his head. “The idiot’s born in heaven, a badass commander, but he has to go and make friends with the sorry ass humans, he rebels, falls, sacrifices himself a handful of times… befriends a witch queen of hell, almost dies – again – in a mission to save her because he feels he owes her something.” “And who told him he was responsible for her death, asshole?” his mind offers.

“You know Castiel. Always happy to bleed for someone.”

“Jack, get out of my head!” Dean snaps.

Jack raises his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey, it’s not my fault that you were thinking of Cas saying he was ‘always happy to bleed for the Winchesters’. Your thoughts are all over the place, very loud, I should add. If you don’t control them, they just fly to my head. For example, right now, you’re thinking I’m an asshole, and also wondering what you’ll do for the rest of eternity if Castiel dies.”

“Fuck, Jack, come on!”

Jack blinks and suddenly Cas’ armor is gone. He’s in his old attire – suit, tie, trench coat. Then he puts a hand on Dean’s arm and squeezes a little, forcing him to raise his head and look at him.

“Castiel will wake up. I promise. But the thing is, you shouldn’t be worrying about what you’re going to do if he dies. Rather, what you’re going to do if he lives. He’s here, Dean, and so are you. What are you going to do with it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“And that,” Jack gets up and looks at Dean sadly, “Is why Castiel’s greatest joy so far was just in the saying, not in the having. You’ve wondered why he thinks so little of himself… but have you ever given him any reason to think otherwise, Dean?”

Jack just disappears in the air, one moment here, the other gone.

Dean feels like he’s just been punched.

-----

A day and a night come and go, and still Cas sleeps. Dean never leaves his side. Sam comes, offers him soup, then beef jerky, then a beer. Dean refuses everything. It’s not as if he needs to eat.

“Dean – “ Sam starts.

“Not now, Sammy,” Dean closes his eyes. “I know you’re worried, and I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Jack said… um… that I should leave you alone, that you have a lot of thinking to do. So, if you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”

Dean just nods and Sam goes.

The room is dark except for a bedside lamp, projecting shadows on Cas’ face. Looking at him, Dean shakes his head again. Stupid angel. Beautiful, beautiful creature that came into Dean’s life more than twelve years ago and saved him so, so many times. Someone Dean can count on. Someone he can’t live without.

Wait.

He can’t live without Cas. Even if he’s technically dead, spending heaven-life without him is something Dean can’t conceive.

Shit.

Suddenly, everything is so clear that Dean doesn’t understand how he could be so dense. All this time, and his stupidity let him spend his life thinking he was unworthy of love, when in fact… he was loved by the most awesome person that ever existed. And he loves this person back just as much.

He does, doesn’t he? He has always – shit, he has always loved Cas back, and why the fuck did his stupid brain not get to this conclusion before?

Yep. It’s official. He’s a moron.

Jack knew, of course. That’s what he meant when he said Dean had a lot to think about. Even Sam, he probably knew too, judging from the faces he made whenever Dean and Cas started one of the many bickering sessions they had. Or one of the staring contests. Meg, Crowley, all the times they, and so many others, implied there was something between Dean and Cas, and Dean thought they were just trying to piss him off.

He spends a long time thinking, not realizing he has one of Cas’ hands between his. It’s like a twelve-year film is passing inside Dean’s head. Long stares, small touches, soft and private smiles, stupid choices, sacrifices… it was all there for anyone to see, but Dean was blind, how could he be so blind? Cas’ love for Dean was written in everything he did since forever.

Dean, on the other hand… looking back he can see, clear as day, the many, many times he was a dick to Cas. He never gave him a reason to stay, then complained because he left, even if he never stopped him from leaving. He never let Cas feel appreciated. He hardly ever thanked the guy for saving his ass. He doubted him; he blamed him; he kicked him out of the bunker when Cas was human and vulnerable. He doesn’t deserve Cas’ love. Cas could do better.

But the thing is… he has Cas’ love, and what he’s going to do about it? Because, on the other hand, Dean can also see the trench coat that spent ages in the Impala’s trunk. He can see his bloody hand punching a door when Cas was dead. He can see himself spending almost a year looking for Cas in Purgatory, and refusing to leave without him. So many, so many small things that he always labeled as friendship, but now is so, so clear it was... so much more.

“Cas,” he closes his eyes. “Hear me. Please.” He’s praying, taking a leap of faith here, and he hopes it will work. “You need to wake up. See, I have something to tell you, but you need to be awake for that, ‘cause it’s very important and… it can change everything. I need you, so please, please – “

“Hello, Dean.”

10- Tell him how you feel. Live/die happily ever after.

They’re on the bunker’s rooftop again. It’s becoming Dean’s favorite place.

Rowena has gone back to hell, once her lackeys got rid of all the bodies. Jack went back to the Empty, they’re negotiating Gabriel’s release. Sam, as soon as Cas woke up, remembered he needed to visit Mary and John asap.

So, Dean and Cas are alone.

They’re sitting on the rooftop, feet dangling, and Dean has a beer in his hands, more to have something to hold and ground him than for drinking.

“Cas, “ he starts. But he has no idea what he’s going to say. Rather, he has, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’ profile, illuminated only by the moonlight, almost shines. Everything about him seems to shine, like he’s so beautiful and perfect inside that the light can’t help but spill to the outside. Technically, he knows that’s Jimmy’s face. But it’s so different from Jimmy’s. The hair in disarray, the so very blue eyes with a hint of silver, the perpetual frowny face… and the guttural voice. Traits that make Cas unique, traits that no one else has. For Dean, Jimmy’s face is ordinary. Cas’ face, he can’t get out of his head. Now that he knows.

“You said you had something to tell me,” Cas says. He’s not looking at Dean, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice, almost as if he’s afraid to know what Dean has to say.

Dean clears his throat. Here goes nothing. “When you died… the last time you died,” he starts.

“Dean, please,” Cas almost begs. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What if I want to talk about this?” Dean blurts out.

Cas cocks his head to the side. “Dean?”

“It made me think, Cas. What you said, it made me think. But… I didn’t want to think. Because… it hurt. It hurt so much that I put a lot of stuff on top of it, shoved a lot of things under the rug so I didn’t have to see what I’d wasted.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Bear with me. You will.”

Cas only nods, but his eyes are a little anxious, a little wide.

“Then the freakin’ metal bar came. I didn’t want to die, you have to believe me. But – bit I didn’t want to live like that either. And I didn’t see a way to change. I was looking for a job, already knowing how it’d be. The empty feeling inside me, just like when I was with Lisa and Ben; I had an apple pie life, I had a family, a job… and inside me there was this void they couldn’t fill.”

“I thought you were happy,” Cas murmurs.

“Yeah, sometimes I’m good at pretending. But listen to me, I’m not finished yet.”

“Okay.”

“So, when the metal bar went straight to my lung, I knew that the little time I had to live… I didn’t want to waste it in a hospital, I needed Sam to know that he was my everything. He was, Cas, because that’s the way I was raised, that was drilled and imprinted in my head when I was four. And, I had to tell him that, and if they took the bar off, I’d probably die without him knowing it. I didn’t fight because I wanted to die. I just made a choice, and it was to let my brother know that he didn’t have to stay with me in the bunker forever, he could have a life. A normal one. I took him off from his apple pie life fifteen years ago, I needed to put him back.”

“Dean, this is… Sam was devastated. He’s have stayed with you, not out of obligation, but because he loves you.”

“I know, Cas. I know. But I was dying, man. My thoughts were all scrambled. I’m telling you this because I’ve given it a lot of thought, and you’re the first one I’m telling this. You’re probably the only one who will know this, ever.”

“I’m honored by your trust in me,” Cas says solemnly.

“Yeah, yeah, better late than ever, right?” Dean says, a little self-deprecatingly. “But listen. There’s more.” He takes a deep breath. “Some things you told me that day stayed with me. That I wasn’t the killer I saw in myself. That I was good. That everything I did was for love. But… now I realize that all that love, it was never directed at someone that should’ve gotten it the most, because he loved me when I didn’t love myself.”

“Dean, what – “

Dean raises his hand to make Cas stop talking. “The thing is… When you said those words to me, and I didn’t say anything… I should’ve said something. I should’ve. Even if it was just ‘you’re important to me, Cas, don’t go’. But I’m a coward and I didn’t say a thing, and you were just gone. I blinked, and you were gone, and I knew I’d never see you again.”

“I didn’t say it to be reciprocated, Dean. I said it because I had just had an epiphany and I was so happy for finally understanding that I could just say it, because it was the truest thing inside me for a long, long time. I realized that and… I had to let you know. But I wasn’t expecting anything from you, I didn’t want that burden on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything.”

“But I did, Cas. I do. I owe you my life, more than once. I owe you my humanity and I owe you never giving up on me, even when I gave up on you. I’ve reached to the conclusion that I owe you everything that remains good inside me. And – and then you left and I – why did you have to sacrifice yourself like that?”

“It was out of utter despair, Dean. We were in a situation that we had no way of winning. And I… I looked at you, and your face, so devoid of hope… and you were beautiful’ you were Dean Winchester! I held your soul in my hands a long time ago, and from that moment on, everything changed, Dean. I wanted to fight it at first, but it was useless. That was something my powers could never do, and for all the free will I had fought for, this one thing, what I felt for you, what I feel for you, is the only thing I have no free will over. And in that moment of – of desperation, I knew I would give my life for you again and again if I had to.”

“Cas…” Dean says, amazed. He can’t even begin to understand the love this timeless creature, this angel that was been around since the beginning of time, feels for him. It’s beyond his comprehension, but in Cas’ eyes he sees that every word is true. This love, this seemingly enormous thing that made Cas defy heaven and every order that Chuck, Naomi, Zachariah, Uriel, Raphael and everyone else ever gave him, it’s too much for Dean’s ordinary human mind to understand. But he wants it.

“I was… I was so used to you always being around that I didn’t realize that whenever you were gone, every time, Cas… you took part of me with you.”

Cas’ eyes widen. “Dean…?”

“You said I deserve to be happy. Then you built this – this heaven for me with all I could possibly want, but Cas… I could never, I can never be happy here - ”

“Dean, don’t,” Cas starts. “Please.”

“- not without you,” Dean goes on. “Never without you. You can put everything and everyone here, you can build me a bunker, a palace, I don’t care. If you’re not here, it will never make me happy.“

Dean inches closer, until his face is so close to Cas’ that he can see his long lashes and his blue, blue sparkling eyes. “So, I’m telling you… that thing you said, back there, that you couldn’t have? You can have it, Cas. It’s yours. It has been yours for a long time, but I was too stupid to realize.” “But Dean, how can you –“

“Shut up, Cas, don’t spoil the moment.”

“But I – “

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean’s voice is laced with fondness.

“But you – “

“Dean loses his patience, just a little. “Cas! For Jack’s sake!” Then he adds, softly, “I’m trying to kiss you here, so unless you really, really want to stop me, just. Shut. Up.”

Cas snaps his mouth shut.

Dean closes the distance between them and his lips touch Cas’, briefly, softly. There’s no electric current, fireworks, sparks flying, like in the paperback novels Dean will deny forever that he reads once in a while. There’s only this indescribable happiness. There’s this sense of “this is it” inside his head. Cas is it.

They come apart slowly, and Dean looks at Cas’ eyes, which are bright and moist, and Dean smiles, knowing that these almost tears are of happiness. The same happiness he feels, knowing that finally, finally Cas won’t go any other minute of his life without knowing how much he is loved. Because he is.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispers, “and you’re it for me. So, if you want, we can, maybe… spend all eternity together?”

Cas smiles, the kind of rare smiles that scrunches his nose and wrinkles the corner of his eyes. The smile Dean has never seen in him, except when they’re together, laughing. “I’d like that,” he says. “A lot.”

“Alright,” Dean murmurs, going for another kiss.

They have all the time in the world, and they’re not in a hurry, so the kiss doesn’t end anytime soon, and morphs into another one, and in so, so much more. The moon in shining up in heaven’s sky, but Dean knows it’s a pale comparison to the shine in Cas ‘eyes.

--- --- ---

About the author

Dean Winchester was born on January 24, 1979 to John and Mary Winchester in Lawrence, Kansas. He died on November 19, 2020. He is the couple's first child, four years older than his younger brother, Sam. He is named after his maternal grandmother, Deanna Campbell. Dean was raised as a hunter by his father, after his mother’s death. He lived the life of a nomad, eliminating several monsters, ghosts, evil spirits and demons, and saving a lot of humans. He also played a crucial part in Apocalypse I, Apocalypse II, the Darkness Apocalypse and in Chuck Shurley’s (AKA The Almighty) demise. He also killed Adolf Hitler. Currently, Dean lives in Heaven, sector 24 – A, with his partner, his brother and his dog. He works as a Newcomers' Advisor. Mail can be sent to PO box KAZ 2Y5.

----

Epilogue

Snippet of life in Heaven.

“Sammy, take this.” Dean shoves the little booklet in Sam’s hand.

They’re in one on the many gatherings and parties around here. This time, is for Bobby and Karen’s vows renewal. Everyone is there, everyone is happy, dancing, smiling. Dean sees Sam in a corner, surreptitiously looking at Eileen, on the other side of the room, talking to Cas.

Sam picks the booklet. “How to fall in love when you’re dead,” he reads. “A guide by Dean Winchester.” He looks at Dean, frowning. “Did you… write this?”

“Dean shrugs, cheeks reddening. “Cas helped. But I did most of the work.”

“Wow, Dean,” Sam’s face shows his astonish.

“I mean… I figured this could help other people to solve their… unfinished business, you know? I solved mine,” he says, looking at Cas, who is talking to Eileen using ASL. He’s really amazing. “If I solved mine, a lot of people can, too. Just – just don’t read it near me, or don’t ask me anything about the things I wrote there. It’s… I still don’t like chick flick moments, okay?”

“You don’t fool me,” Sam smiles, holding the booklet close. “I know you’re a big sap.”

Dean clears his throat. “I know you’re still in love with Eileen, Sammy. So, go and talk to her. Things are different here, but just because we literally have all eternity in our hands, it doesn’t mean we have to waste it.”

Sam looks at Eileen again. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m… I’m gonna read this, and talk to her.”

“You do that. But maybe you’ll want to skip the part where things got really steamy at the bunker’s rooftop."

“Ewww, Dean! Come on! I did not need to that information!”

“I’m just kidding, Samantha, don’t get your panties twisted. ‘Cause, if I’d have to write about all the times things got steamy between me’n Cas since we got together, this would probably be R-rated.”

Sam slaps Dean’s shoulder, but he’s laughing.

“Ew, not again, jerk!”

“Bitch.”

------

“Did you give your book to Sam?” Cas asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s not a book, Cas.”

“It’s about us. For me it’s a book, and you’re not changing my opinion about it.”

They’re close, facing each other, and somewhere there’s soft music playing. Dean doesn’t even notice when he and Cas put their hands on each other’s waists.

“Dean, I… um… I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Cas says, serious.

“Shoot.”

“Jack wants to build a new section in heaven, and I volunteered. And I, um… I need your assistance.”

“Sure,” Dean says. “What is it? A new bible camp?” he jokes.

“A beach.”

Dean frowns. “Did I hear you saying a beach?”

“Yes. Like… um… the Bahamas.”

“But… why do you need my help to make a beach?”

“I don’t need your help with the beach part. But I… I was thinking that maybe, if you want, you could um… build a cabin there. And…” Cas’ cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “And of course, I’d have to go there and inspect it. And we would be… you know… alone. You and me. With no other angel or human soul around.”

Oh.

Dean arches his eyebrows. “Castiel Winchester, I didn’t know you had a devious side.” He widens his eyes. Oops.

“Winchester?” Cas’ eyes, if possible, are even wider.

It’s Dean’s time to blush. “Yes, um… if you want to. But if you don’t, it’s – “

“Dean. I’d be honored.”

“Yeah?”

They’re swaying slowly, almost dancing together without even realizing it.

“Yes,” Cas says. “Would you be too embarrassed if I kissed you now?”

“Nah,” Dean smiles. He looks around. Every one of his extended family and friends is there. “They’ll all probably read the booklet, anyway. Besides, the only one that didn’t know we were boyfriends without the fun, was little ol’ me.”

“Good,” Cas says, kissing Dean, the kind of soft and unhurried kiss that leaves no doubt of the love behind it.

Dean kisses him back, his chest almost bursting with joy, with love. And, in his lips, Dean tastes the forever that awaits them.

THE END

--- x ---

#destiel secret santa 2020 #15x20 fix it

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