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clairenatural · 4 years

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Suptober 2020, Day 10: Sweet rides. Destiel (and background Saileen), honestly just 2k of state fair fluff

The Kansas State Fair rolls through a few months after their final boss battle with God himself. In the spirit of trying to heal and taking some time to just breathe, they all pile into the impala and drive the three hours to Hutchinson. All five of them, after Sam bounds into the kitchen one morning to excitedly announce that Eileen wants to come, and Dean can’t remember the last time his car (or his heart) was fuller.

Sam spends the first hour of the trip awkwardly turned around in the passenger seat, contorting his long torso to be able to sign with Eileen, until eventually Dean pulls over and makes him switch with Castiel (who probably should have been in the front in the first place). He watches his brother and his girlfriend start trying to teach Jack the ASL alphabet but keeps his own hands resolutely constrained to the steering wheel—if he gave them free reign he knows they’ll do something drastic, like reach out for the angel riding shotgun.

Still, the ride is nice. It’s the early Kansas fall, when the air is turning crisp but the sun is still warm, and the giddy relief of seeing Castiel smile without some cosmic threat looming over them still hasn’t worn off. By the time they pull into the fairgrounds it’s afternoon, and Dean is laughing along with the rest of them. They step into the hustle and bustle of the fair, and Jack’s face lights up in a way it hasn’t since before the weight of killing God was shoved onto his shoulders. Sam and Eileen split off pretty immediately, and they’re so happy Dean can’t even pretend to be exasperated. He’ll make fun of Sam later—right now he just watches them run away, giggling like teenagers, with a fond expression that could border on pining if Dean Winchester was the type to pine.

Then it’s just him, and Cas, and this half-angel kid who’s simultaneously all-powerful and a toddler. Jack, one of the most powerful beings in the universe, quintessential in the defeat of God, who still approaches cotton candy with a childlike wonder fitting for his three years of life. They discover that Jack likes cotton candy but loves rollercoasters. Dean, who discovered he hates rollercoasters a few decades ago, sits this one out—content to watch Jack drag Cas from ride to ride while he sits on a bench and eats corn dogs. When they finally stop for a breather it’s the tail end of the afternoon and Dean greets them with lemonade and funnel cake, and they watch the fair go by while eating the kind of fried food you can only find at state fairs. Cas is dismayed at the deep-fried Oreos. Dean eats three. It makes him feel sick—turns out even his stomach has limits—but it makes both Cas and Jack laugh, which makes it worth it.

Overall, it’s the perfect day, which might be why Dean’s immediately suspicious when Sam and Eileen show up some time later with matching mischievous smiles. They sit down at their picnic table and Sam leans in to slide something into Dean’s pocket, adding a whispered “thank me later” into his ear, before clearing his throat and turning his attention to Jack. “Hey, uh, Jack,” he starts, and Dean’s suspicions grow. “Eileen and I spent most of today playing games—you wanna show us the rides? Maybe,” he nods towards Dean in the least subtle way possible, “give these two a break?”

Jack looks between them for a moment before something seems to dawn on him and he smiles, which Dean does not like at all. “Yes,” he replies, simply, and starts to stand. “The best one is that way.” He points to the exact opposite end of the fair. Dean groans internally. Damn kids.

Cas watches them go with a look of contentment Dean isn’t sure he’s seen on the angel before, and he peeks at what Sam had slid into his pocket—two tickets for the massive Ferris wheel. Dean sighs and looks at Cas, then to the wheel. The afternoon is well on its way into evening now, and the low sun has the metal structure backlit and glowing. He looks back at Cas, who’s watching his odd reaction, confused. “Dean?” he questions.

Dean thinks about how much shit he’ll get from Sam (and Eileen) if he doesn’t go for it. He thinks about having to go another day, or even another hour, without holding Castiel’s hand. He thinks about how there’s nothing really stopping him—not anymore, not with the world safe and Cas not going anywhere anytime soon.

He makes a decision.

I’m in love with you. Please ride the Ferris wheel with me as the sun sets, he thinks.

“There are, uh. Some sweet rides here, huh?” he says instead. Castiel frowns at him, brow furrowed, and Dean wants to be enveloped by the earth like some cliché in a tween movie.

“You’ve spent most of the day avoiding them at all costs,” he points out and, yeah, that was not Dean’s best line. “I had to ride the, uh. The ‘Space Roller,’” he points at a giant spinning structure, “Twice.” Cas grimaces at the memory, and Dean frowns in sympathy. It was the only time he’s ever seen the angel nauseous.

“Jack had a good time, though,” Dean replies, because bringing up Jack is always a foolproof way to make Castiel smile again. Cas smiles in the way he always does when he thinks about his son, and it’s adorable but also off track, so—

“Ride the wheel with me,” Dean blurts out, before Cas can respond to his comment about Jack and before he can lose his nerve. Cas looks startled, either by the abrupt subject change or the two tickets that Dean slapped onto the table with his statement. “Sam—I mean, Sam and Eileen didn’t—” Castiel’s expression has changed to bemused confusion, so Dean stops talking and starts again. “Sorry.” He clears his throat. “Sam had extra tickets. I just thought it would be nice, you know. If you wanted.”

The smile he gets in return simultaneously puts him at ease and sets his heart racing. “I’d like that,” Cas says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, and he’s already standing and gathering their trash by the time Dean’s brain catches up.

There’s a couple in front of them in line for the Ferris wheel. They’re holding hands. Dean forces his into fists in his pockets. Not yet, he tells himself. Soon.

Unfortunately, the cabin they eventually climb into starts rocking dangerously the moment it’s lifted off the ground, and Dean immediately decides this was a Bad Idea. They get halfway up the wheel before they lurch to a stop and dean makes a noise that is definitely not a whimper as he waits for the swaying to stop.

“Are you alright?” Cas asks, deeply concerned in the way he always is about Dean. Dean shrugs, not letting go of the lap bar.

“Yeah, you know. I just, uh. Got this thing about heights. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He sees Castiel’s face shift out of the corner of his eye and realizes he’s smiling. Dean is having a near-death experience and the angel next to him is smiling.

“Dean Winchester, a man who fought God, is afraid of heights?”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles. “This thing is not structurally sound.” He tries to crane his neck outside the basket to examine the metalwork, but the movement makes the entire thing rock. He retreats, holding onto the lap bar for dear life, and sneaks a glance at Castiel. “Man, how are you not freaked out by this?”

“I suppose I’m used to falling,” Cas replies, as easy as ever, and it slows Dean’s brain down enough to look at him again. He’s still smiling, but there’s something else there. Something sadder.

“Cas—” Dean starts, but is abruptly cut off by the wheel kicking into gear again, squeaking as it pulls them over the crest of the wheel before stopping once more.

The sun is setting over the fair, casting everything below in shades of orange and gold. There’s the faint sound of children laughing and fair music drifting up from the ground, and the expanse of Kansas is visible beyond the fair’s borders. It’s breathtaking, really. It’s the part where, if this was a rom-com, Dean would make his move.

Instead, he’s clinging to the lap bar of the Ferris wheel car, and Castiel is doing his very best not to laugh in the seat beside him. Dean groans, squeezes his eyes shut, and considers disowning Sam.

“Dean,” he hears Cas say, mirth in his voice but also unmistakable softness, and then a warm hand is covering his own on the bar in front of them. “Look at me.”

He does, forcing his eyes open, and—oh. Cas has moved closer, and his blue eyes are lit up by the last rays of daylight, and suddenly Dean’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason. “Uh. Hi,” he says, because his brain seems to have shorted out, but the corner of Cas’ eyes crinkle into a smile and it’s beautiful.

Castiel’s hand is still warm on top of his own, grounding him even as they’re far off the ground. He’s looking at Dean like he’s the most precious thing in the known universe, and Dean realizes that now, actually, is when he would make a move.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replies.

And Dean kisses him.

Dean barely registers that Cas is kissing him back—Cas is kissing him back??—when he absently takes both hands off the lap bar to pull Castiel closer, which means the entire car rocks again. Dean makes an undignified noise and pulls back to re-steady himself, and his cheeks are burning but Cas is laughing so that means it’s probably okay.

“When we get back to solid ground I’m kissing you for real,” Dean promises as the wheel squeaks back into movement again. Cas hums in agreement and presses a kiss to Dean’s cheek, and Dean can feel his smile. They hold hands on the bar of the carriage as the wheel turns them back down to earth.

Dean makes good on his promise as soon as they touch down, dragging Castiel behind a nearby tree and pulling him into a real kiss—solid, like the ground they’re standing on. Solid like the foundation they’ve been building for the past decade, of trust and love and family.

When they finally make it back to the picnic table, they look far too disheveled to blame it all on the ride. Sam looks up from the sundae he’s sharing with the other two, grins down at Dean and Cas holding hands, and winks at his brother. Dean rolls his eyes, blushing, but he squeezes Castiel’s hand and pulls him closer.

When they pile back into the Impala later, joined by the army of stuffed animals they’d managed to accumulate (Sam and Dean in an informal competition to see who could win the most for Eileen and Cas, Cas and Eileen irritated at the insinuation that they couldn’t win toys themselves and walking away with even more, Jack being innocently and gleefully good at every fair game he tries), it’s with a peace and contentment that the family hasn’t felt in years. Sam and Eileen immediately fall asleep in the backseat, curled up together, and Jack is watching the Kansas landscape pass by the window with a soft smile. He’s holding a stuffed panda.

They don’t speak much, not wanting to wake up the sleeping couple or disturb the quiet peace they’d created, but Dean and Cas hold hands across the bench seat, and every few miles the angel will pick up their hands to press a kiss to Dean’s fingers. Dean feels like he’s flying, like he’s standing on top of the Empire State building, like he’s reached the peak of Mount Everest. For once in his life, he’s not afraid of the height.

#suptober20 #destiel #destiel fluff #my words

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too-scared-to-do-this · 3 years

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Prestige

Chapter one - Welcome to Weltingston Heights

Sanders side fanfiction

Idea by: @hestianerd1

Wordcount: 1094

Pairings: so far the main one is prinxiety :)

TW: cursing and some hostility, but let me know if I've missed any! :3

The summery of the whole story: Prestige. Such a simple construct. All you have to do is act the way you want people to perceive you, keep up the image, wear a big proud smile and never ever dare make a mistake. That’s why Weltingston Heights University is such a well known school. Everybody knows that anyone who got in must have some prestige tied to their name. Educational records, family history, or even literal fame. So why not treat students the same way? Because what’s a little more pressure on their young and strong bones?

But prestige and image are precious things. You slip up even the tiniest bit, step out of the line you drew for yourself and it’s all gone. So now that the pressure is on, and everyone already knows their place in this small circle of society, only one question remains. How far are they willing to go to keep the false image up?

(Or: Very over-dramatically with a noticeable amount of sarcastic undertone: "Oh my god! They were roommates!")

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Chapter one - Welcome to Weltingston heights

The halls were packed. So packed in fact, Virgil barely had space to move around. And that rarely was the case!

Usually, people just cleared a path for him - not wanting to catch a disease or something he presumed (rumors are so stupid). Mostly, people just feared him.

When you’re growly all the time, with a hoodie on, head low and headphones on, people tend to react that way. And the makeup and dark clothing probably didn’t help either.

Either way, they usually ran the moment they saw him.

But not today - no! This day out of all the days they could’ve chosen - they chose to not scatter. The filthy glory of move-in day.

Welcome to Waltingston Heights.

This day was already a nightmare. And yet another new room and roommate on top of it and Virgil was ready to throw himself over the ledge. He clutched his box to his chest and swallowed hard.

Just breath Virgil. You’re almost there. Count your steps. - he thought.

Room 223… 227… 234…

Room 236. Finally.

A quick (and very clumsy) fumble with the keys and Virgil was shutting the doors behind him. Hard and fast - falling against cold hard wood in the darkness.

Thank God for the hot weather outside - the staff had to close the curtains to protect the rooms at least a little from the boiling sun. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Two more trips to his car. He can do that. Obviously, he can.

…

But maybe he’ll unpack this box first. People might just thin out in that time.

And so, V took of his backpack, forced his legs to work and took a good look of the room.

Not too big, but bigger than what he had at home. One bathroom and a small kitchen of to the side. This pretty much supplied as a small apartment - just like the exact same looking once from previous years. It was suitable. Livable in.

Now, only if the roommate situation was the same.

It wasn’t the question of who, honestly, but rather why anyone at all? He did go to headmaster Berry with this, but that helped nothing. The man lacks empathy and that’s all he’ll ad.

Dropping the box on one of the beds (right side. Always the one under the window.) he started pulling out pieces of identical clothing and neatly folding them away into the drawers. Setting up a small table-lamp, an alarm clock. Dealing with the bed sheets.

Pushing the box aside, he fell onto his new bed. Home for the next two months max.

It didn’t matter who the roommate was, they always eventually requested him moved. Without fail. (Those days the old man decided to show some empathy - how convenient.) But they were in the right - he didn’t blame them. Didn’t like them as much, either.

He had to get up and go get those other boxes. He knew it. But he didn’t really want to leave the safety of the quiet room… And his idiotic ass also left his headphones in the car… Okay. Deep breath.

It was on his third trip back - the last one thankfully - when the students finally started thinning out. No more stupid elbowing through crowds, no more unwanted bumping or pushing. Not nearly enough space yet, but better.

Balancing the box in one hand, he reached out for the door handle. He was about to push the door open when it got yanked, pulling V with it.

Laud laughter and chatting filled the anxious boy’s ears. “Oh my, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

“Obviously.” he grunted elbowing his way into the room. Plopping his box down, he turned to actually face the guy he had to spend the two weeks with (didn’t give it longer).

And god, out of all the people in this school, it had to be this guy. He hated this situation. Eyelids lowered, mouth a thin line, Virgil growled. “You.”

“The one and only. Roman Velez.” the other bowed with a grin. A young girl behind him giggled at the sight and said something in Spanish, which made the actor grin even wider. “And you, dark and broody, must be my new roommate.”

“Not for long hopefully.” V grunted, turning back to his boxes and starting unpacking again.

Was it really too much to ask for some quiet and piece this year?

“I didn’t catch your name, emo.”

“That’s ‘cus I didn’t say it, dumbass.”

“Such pristine vocabulary. I just asked to be polite, anyways. I know you’re Virgil Reat. Everybody knows that.”

Virgil was just about to quip back when a completely shocked high-pitched voiced beat him to it. “That is him?!” the girl squawked.

Roman immediately fixed her with a glare. “Shut up, Cas. Go help dad.”

His sister was the best thing in the world, but she just could not keep her mouth shut. “Oh my god! Ro! You-“

“Now.”

“Wait till dad hears about this!” and she was gone, evil giggle fading with distance. Leaving the two boys in the not-so-small room.

Roman looked back at the short bundle of unhappiness and wondered what went wrong in the board-members heads to assign them as roommates. But he couldn’t say that out loud, now could he. So, he went with the next best thing - when in doubt, wear a smile and act friendly. “You don’t have much decoration.”

Virgil just razed an eyebrow. Then gestured at Romans’s side of the room. The man had literal toys everywhere. Glittery letters, a plush unicorns and bunch of stuff from plays he assumed. Like that sword hanging on the wall over there. Were they even allowed to bring weapons (no matter if fake) to school? “There wouldn’t be no place to put it with all the shit you brought.”

“Well, I’ll let you know, these things are not ‘shit’. They hold emotional value. And at least I’m not afraid to express myself.”

“And that’s exactly why most people find you annoying.” and with that (and a very cruel, obviously fake, polite smile), the box was tossed to the ground and V’s big black noise-canceling headphones were finally on his head. Blasting whatever his crappy phone would offer at that exact moment.

Roman was left staring at the rude little leprechaun laying on his bed. Ignoring him!

“Hey!” he called out. But V only turned the volume up and closed his eyes.

Roman scoffed in disbelief. “Welcome back to Weltingston, I guess.”

This is going to be a fun year.

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Welcome to a new series! I hope you'll enjoy it <3

(Also, I wrote Roman Spanish because I just love the concept, but I don't really speak or know much, and I really don't want to come of as offensive! That's the last thing I want... So if anybody out there is kindhearted enough to help me correct anything that might seem off or with some correct translations into Spanish in later chapters, I'd really appreciate the help! (I don't trust google translate with something like this XD) I really don't mean to make anybody uncomfortable, and if this helps me prevent it, than I'd be very grateful! Thank you <3)

#prestige #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #ts roman #creativity sanders #ts virgil #anxiety sanders #thomas sanders #sander's sides #what else should I tag?#very scary tiny V #very lovely tall Ro

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

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72 Hours

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3742

Part One

Summary: With only three days until being dragged down to hell, you hope to spend them in the embrace of the man you love. The man you're dying for.

Notes: Alright, here is part two for The Deal! This might be my favorite series for this month and I am really proud of how it turned out. I told you there would be some dark Dean imagines this October. Let me know what you guys think and you think it’ll end!

Warnings: Death, gore, mentions of Hell, plenty of guilt, sacrifice

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

Saturday 12:50 A.M.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Dean begged, his hands cradling your face. You didn’t say anything. “Damn it Y/N, tell me you didn’t do it!” He shook you slightly when he yelled.

“I had to get you back,” you cried. Dean pushed away, forcefully knocking over a stack of books and kicking a table into the wall. “Sam wasn’t going to find anything else and you know it.”

“Then you let me stay dead.” He boomed, furiously turning towards you. You had never seen him this mad before. Not at you. “You bury me and you move on.”

“I thought you were in hell!” You screamed. Both of them just stared at you, fuming. “I-I saw you. It was like a dream, but it wasn’t. I saw you in hell screaming for help, in agony. I couldn’t sit by and do nothing.”

“That’s what last night was about?” Sam asked, feeling a wave of guilt rush over him. He could have stopped you. If he had just paid more attention, he could have figured out your plan.

“I saw him, Sam.” You wished you could make them understand. “Dean, you spent forty years in hell for Sam, I couldn’t let you spend any more for me.”

“Well I wasn’t there.” His tone was harsh, making your heart sting.

“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not.”

“This is the most selfish thing you have ever done, you know that?” Dean was hiding his pain with anger, but damn he was good at it. But so were you.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing.” You challenged. His jaw clenched. “You can’t, Dean! Because you have done it!”

You stared each other down, casting an icy chill over the room. You didn’t have time for this. You stiffened, eye darting to the clock. Time. Sam noticed this and finally spoke.

“Y/N, how long did the demon give you?” Judging by the way your body tensed at the question, it wasn’t the usual decade. You clammed up, the adrenaline of the argument fading. Your silence sent a terrible pang through Dean’s chest. He repeated Sam’s question.

“How long do we have?” Through his anger, you still caught one of his words. We.

“Dean…” Your fire was gone and you couldn’t help but think about the demon. She said he was in hell. The bitch had tricked you. And you fell for it completely. Even so, as you looked into Dean’s rage filled eyes you knew it was worth it. You would have saved him with only three minutes to live if you had to. Dean roughly grabbed your shoulders.

“How long?” This close to him, you could see it. The fear. You had to look away.

“Three days.”

Dean stumbled back like he’d been punched in the gut.

“What?” Sam gasped, taking a step towards you. Dean wasn’t moving. He was hunched over, unable to breathe.

“I have until Monday at midnight, so you can understand why I don’t want to spend my time fighting with you.” Dean slowly straightened up, putting on his emotionless soldier face. He stalked towards you until your faces were inches apart.

“What did you expect, Y/N? That we would be all kisses and cuddles?” The low rumbling growl in his voice scared you. “You want to throw away your life, fine. But when the bitch comes to drag you down to hell, don’t expect me to be there to watch.” He spat and Sam watched him in shock.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed. Dean tried to fight it, but a tear streaked down his face. He tore his gaze away from you and stormed out of the room. Your body relaxed and you let your own tears fall. You knew this would happen but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. Pardon the expression.

“I- um, I should probably go.” You gulped, shoving your hands in your pockets. Sam moved to the base of the stairs to block your way.

“Don’t.”

“Sam-”

“You are not going to just crawl into some hole to die.” He loomed over you, his anger having changed to protective determination. “You brought my brother back and I can never repay you for that. But what you did…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea what that’s going to do to him?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Sam.” You smiled sadly. “I love him.” Sam didn’t say anything for a moment. The woman that he saw as a sister was going to die the same way his brother had. But there wouldn’t be an angel to pull you out of hell this time. He backed up suddenly.

“Oh God, I have to call Cas.”

4:41 A.M.

Dean was surrounded by shattered glass and crumbled wax. It was a miracle that he hadn’t set the room on fire. He sat against the wall amongst the carnage of candles with his head in his hands. Alone, he cried- screaming and destroying anything he could get his hands on. Now, he just sat in the corner, feeling the fight draining out of him. Even if there was a way to stop the deal, it would take longer than you had. He was going to lose you.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his miserable thoughts. Sam came in before he could tell him to go away. Dean rested his head against the wall and dried his face with his sleeve.

“How are you feeling?” He asked cautiously. Dean didn’t say a word. He just picked up a piece of glass and flipped it between his fingers. “Dean, this isn’t something you can just ignore.”

“Sam if you try and pull any of that Dr. Phil crap, so help me God, I will shove this candle wax down your throat.” He hissed. Sam kept a cool head, knowing that his brother’s animosity wasn’t directed towards him. He also knew that it wasn’t directed towards Y/N either.

“Dean, you have to talk to her.” The older Winchester lifted the shard of glass to throw it at him. Sam smacked it out of his hand and yanked him to his feet. “Y/N is going to die, Dean. She’s going to hell unless we can figure something out to stop it.”

“What do you want me to say?” Dean pushed Sam away from him. “Gee Y/N, I’ve spent every minute of our relationship trying to keep you safe, but now that you’ve sacrificed yourself let’s all sing Kumbaya!”

“I don’t like this anymore than you do. Y/N’s family. So yeah, I’m going to work my ass off to try and stop what happened to you from happening to her. But if nothing works…” He wanted to have hope, but even his optimism couldn’t triumph over this. “We have to be there for her.”

Sam looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it. This was something they needed to figure out themselves. Besides, Cas was on his way after being on the road and he had a lot to catch up on. He walked out of Dean’s room passing you in the hall.

You entered your room slowly. Dean stood in the middle of the floor, bits and pieces of candle around his feet. You stopped moving when his gaze lifted to your face. He didn’t look as hostile as he had before. He just looked broken.

“I just came to get some clothes.” You said as calmly as you could with him looking at you like that. Dean made no movement to stop you so you walked over to the dresser and grabbed some shirts and a few pairs of jeans. Just enough for three days. You tried to make a quick exit, but Dean’s voice stopped you.

“Don’t.” Your hand fell away from the doorknob, now shaking nervously at your side.

“I told you I don’t want to waste the time I have fighting.” You sighed, almost afraid to turn around. You felt his hand on your shoulder and your solemn resolve crumbled.

“I won’t fight you.” He whispered. “Just stay here.” He slowly turned you around. Your eyes locked together and he pulled you into his arms. You reveled in his warmth. Less than 24 hours ago, he had been lying on that bed, his body cold and his eyes empty. You were sure nothing in the world would ever feel better than his embrace.

“Why did you have to do it, baby?” Dean cried, the crack in his voice shooting up through your heart. You pulled back, running your fingers through his chestnut hair.

“I told you, Dean. I need you alive. I can’t do this without you. Sam was barely holding on. I thought you were in hell. You were crying out for help. For me. It was my fault you were dead and I couldn’t live with it.”

“But I-”

“Shhh,” You hushed, pressing your forehead against his. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. Please, can we just be together? We’ve already wasted enough time and I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He promised, gently lifting your lips up to his.

8:30 A.M.

You and Dean got a few hours of sleep before cleaning up the room. Cas had finally arrived and pulled Dean into an awkward Cas-like hug.

“Sam told me what happened.” He looked at you disapprovingly. “I won’t be able to pull you out.”

“I know.”

“If there’s anything I can do…” Again, the angel felt so powerless to help his friends.

“Thanks Cas.” You kissed his cheek affectionately. You knew that there was nothing to be done and frankly, you didn't want to waste the precious time you had searching for a way out. You just wanted to be with your boys.

“How are you feeling this morning?” You fretted, instinctively putting your hands on Dean’s chest as if you were making sure there was a heartbeat. Dean put his hand on top of yours, holding it close to his heart.

“I’m not the one we need to worry about.” He wished that he could hold you there forever, but the clock was ticking fast. Only 63 and a half hours left.

“How about I make some breakfast?” You suggest cheerily. “We should still have some stuff for omelets and lots and lots of bacon.” You knew that your boyfriend couldn’t object to that.

You yanked him to the kitchen and connected your phone to Sam’s bluetooth speaker that Dean still called ‘new fangled tech’. Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls” started to play and you just couldn’t resist dancing. Dean was leaning against the fridge until you grabbed him and forced him to shimmy a little with you.

Dean’s laugh filled the kitchen as he spun you into him. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and you both rocked to the music. It was almost like nothing had happened. Like you were going to dance and laugh like this a week from now. The song ended and you felt Dean’s arm tighten around you. Neither of you said a word, but you knew that he was thinking the same thing. He didn’t want this to end either.

3:01 P.M

“So get this,” Sam set his laptop down in front of you. “Two missing persons reports in Kansas City. Witnesses described a strange woman stalking the house before the couple disappeared. They just found the husband yesterday… his heart ripped out.”

“Sam, you’re seriously looking for a case right now?” Dean snapped. You put a hand on his arm to calm him.

“No, this is perfect.”

“Y/N, you can’t be serious.”

“Dean, the best way to get our minds off of this is to go kill some evil son of a bitch.” Looking between the brothers your hearts swelled proudly. “What do you say, boys? One last hunt together.”

Dean wouldn’t argue with that. When he was on the fast track to the underworld, all he could do was waste as many monsters as possible. You had earned one more victory. Besides, it would distract you enough for him to make a call.

8:14 P.M.

The drive took roughly four hours and Dean even let you drive part of the way. The three of you agreed to hit the coroner’s office first and then head over to the couples’ house to see if the wolf had left any clues as to where it took them.

“You know what, we should just knock two birds with one stone.” Dean suggested. His girlfriend and his brother gave him a questioning look. “I’ll head to the house and you two go check out the body.”

“I guess so, but why?” You wondered. Dean shrugged.

“I just figured we could bust this thing tonight and be back home by morning.” He mainly needed enough time to call a certain reluctant ally.

“Sounds good to me.” You gave him a quick kiss before grabbing your pantsuit from the trunk. You and Sam quickly departed and Dean started walking to the suburbs where the couple lived. He pulled out his phone and waited for that grumpy accent to answer.

“What do you want?” Crowley barked, sounding especially annoyed.

“We’ve got to talk. I need you to undo a deal.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

“Y/N made a deal with one of your lackeys and I need you to erase it or whatever the hell it is you do.”

“That’s not how this works, Squirrel. You can’t just call me, making demands because your girlfriend is an idiot.” Crowley sounded like he was about to hang up, so Dean spoke quickly.

“What if it wasn’t a square deal?”

“We’re demons, you imbecile, nothing we do is ‘square’. Now don’t call me again.” The Crossroads King hung up before Dean got another word in.

“Damn it.” Crowley was Dean’s one shot at fixing this. For the time being, he channeled his frustration into investigating the house. On the other side of town, you and Sam finished up checking out the body and headed back to the impala.

“Hey Sam.” You said suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“I never said thank you for being there for me that night.” You leaned on the car’s hood. “You had just lost your brother and you didn’t hesitate to comfort me. I appreciated it.” Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulders for a side-hug.

“You’ve been there for me and my brother more times than I can count.” He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll never forget that.” You blinked rapidly, feeling the water works coming on.

“Damn it, Samuel, you’re ruining my tough bitch cover.” You laughed, fully hugging the younger Winchester. “Look after him for me, Sammy.” Sam didn’t respond, but you knew he would. It’s what Winchesters did best.

11:49 P.M.

Dean was able to trace the werewolf to a dive bar because of a dropped napkin. Due to the time of the moon cycle, you knew you were dealing with a pureblood so you’d have to be extra careful. With guns loaded with silver bullets, you strode in with a Winchester on each side.

It was pretty empty, but seeing as it was a dump that didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the woman who was supposed to be missing sitting in a corner booth. She was with another woman with a tattoo on her hand. A full moon.

“They make it so easy.” You muttered and started towards them.

The chase was always your favorite part of a hunt. Once you were out in the open, they turned. The pureblood must have turned the woman and fed her her husband’s heart. Gross. Sam and Dean went after the newbie but the pureblood was all yours.

You tackled her to the ground, pinning her down with all your strength. She struggled, but you had your gun on her quickly. She looked up at you with a smile full of fangs.

“You don’t have long.” She sneered. “I can smell the death radiating off of you.” You took aim at her heart.

“Yeah, well I’ll see you in hell, bitch.” You pulled the trigger and heard another shot from across the empty lot. Sam and Dean sauntered back towards you. This was just what you needed. One last hunt in the books before you punch your clock.

Sunday 6:40 P.M.

After a great night of hunting, you’d earned the right to sleep in. You lounged in bed with Dean while Sam left for coffee. Majorly craving cheeseburgers, you all stopped at a local dinger for a late lunch. It wasn’t until around 3:00 that you finally got on the road back to the bunker.

The sun was setting, giving everything a pretty orange hue. You were hogging all the beers since you were in the back seat and Dean was driving. The open road and the beautiful rumble of the engine made for the perfect combination.

“Wait, turn up the radio.” You cheered, hearing the beginning lines of “Drive Away” by Dobie Gray begin to play. Sam chuckled and turned up the volume. Reaching the chorus, you leaned forward, draping your arms over Dean’s seat, resting them on his chest. You all sang off key, but it didn’t matter.

“Give me the beat boys and free my soul! I wanna get lost in your rock n roll and drift away.”

It took a moment for the lyrics to sink into Dean’s head. Free my soul and drift away. Damn. As crazy as it sounded, maybe this was Baby’s goodbye to you. His smile was sad, but watching you grin, singing at the top of your lungs, he loved you more than he ever had before.

It was all perfect. From the sunset to Dean and Sam belting out the song with you, you couldn’t have imagined a better way to go. Even if you could go back, erase all of the loss and pain, live a life without hunting, you wouldn’t do it. No matter what, you would always pick this moment every time. Drifting away with your boys in the best car in the world.

10:00 P.M.

Dean was taking a shower and you were changing into your sexier pajamas. You wanted your last night to be perfect. You knew you would be gone before he woke up. The ringing of Dean’s phone caught your attention. Why was Crowley calling him? You decided to answer.

“Alright, I looked into the deal so you would stop bothering me about it.” Crowley said gruffly.

“What?” You tried to lower your voice so he couldn’t tell the difference.

“How stupid to you Winchesters get?” He snarked. “Your girlfriend’s deal. The one you wanted me to reverse?”

“Oh, um, right.” You stammered.

“Well like I told you before, I can’t just snap my fingers and undo what’s been done. The demon was clever in manipulating her dreams, I’m actually quite impressed.” You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, Y/N made the deal of her own free will, so it’s legitimate. Now seriously, never call me again.” He hung up abruptly and you felt your blood start to boil. Dean did what?

“Woah, you haven’t worn that in ages.” Dean smirked, coming out in his sweatpants, droplets of water still dotting his chest. You tossed his phone on the bed, giving him a death glare.

“You called Crowley…” You seethed. Dean’s smirk fell instantly.

“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest, daring you to argue.

“Dean, this isn’t a game of tug of war where we fight over who’s dying for who.” You mimicked his stance. “I made my bed. I know what I got myself into.”

“No, you don’t!” He shouted, voice echoing down the hall. He closed the door with a hard slam. “You have no idea what it’s going to be like.”

You watched his entire body tense and his eyes glazed over. This is not how you wanted this night to go. Dean was trying to keep it together, but the memories were too much.

“I remember every minute of it.” He wasn’t looking at you anymore. Rather, his eyes were focused behind you, staring into his past. “From the second the hell hound tore me up to Cas raising me out. I can’t get it out of my head, even after years of being out. It was agony.”

You screwed your eyes shut, but Dean crossed to you, holding your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to make you look at him. Tears had escaped onto his face now and his voice cracked as he continued.

“And then when I couldn’t take it anymore, I did it to other people. I tortured those poor souls to save myself. So if I thought there was a change to save you from that pain, I would take it without flinching.” This was different from your other fight. You weren’t hiding behind anger anymore. You could see the pain in his eyes and it was breaking your heart.

“I won’t pretend that I wasn’t selfish.” You sighed, taking his hands in yours. “I needed you back and I didn’t care how I got you. I knew that you would hate me for what I did, but it didn't matter. I had to get you back.”

Dean’s gaze fell to the floor and his voice dropped to a devastated whisper.

“How many more people have to die for me, baby?” He looked up again and for the first time, you regretted putting him through this. “How many more people do I have to lose?” He rested his forehead against yours and you draped your arms around his neck.

“Don’t think about that now. Let’s just have tonight.” You said, bringing your lips to his. You moved together, desperately savoring this moment knowing it would be your last.

Dean laid back on the bed and pulled you onto his lap. Your hands ran through his hair as you deepened the kiss. It was your last night to love him and you damn sure weren’t going to waste it.

Continue to The Last Toll

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87

#dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #cas #supernatural iamgines #character death #demons #crowley #dean winchester #Jesnen Ackles #Jared Padalecki

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notfunnydean · 3 years

Text

Jingle Bells

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel Warnings: spoiler s15, post season 15 Word Count: 2.638 Challenge: For the @destielsecretsanta2020 Summary: Dean doesn’t want to celebrate Christmas. He misses Castiel, but maybe he can pull pranks on their guests to cheer himself up? Sadly that backfires. Or, well, good that it does. Link (if posted on AO3): https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314183

This is for @endgamecasdean ❤️️ I really hope you enjoy this! It was a lot of fun to write it x

______________________________________________________________

“Really Dean?” Sam asks and he sounds so annoyed. Dean can’t help but chuckle to himself, because everyone knows he kinda loves to annoy his little brother, even on christmas!

“Hey, you wanted this to be a ‘real christmas’ - whatever that means.” Dean says and he even does the air quotes, just like Castiel. Dean really hopes he doesn’t blush.

“Of course, I mean we’re finally free and Dean as much as I liked our Christmases just between us two, but don’t you think we deserve a little bit more?” Sam asks and Dean swallows around nothing.

“Yeah… I mean sure, you do deserve a nice Christmas. I just think it’s a bit much?” Dean says and he shrugs a bit. Of course he wants Sam to be happy and he knows that Sam is happy most of these days.

“If you do need a break, you could always excuse yourself, but it’s just our family.” Sam says and Dean knows he’s right.

They planned this christmas party in the bunker a few weeks ago and Sam had invited all their friends and family. Dean loves them and he knows that a few of them really enjoy christmas, he wouldn’t want to destroy that.

“It’s all good. I got the food ready too and I’m sure the first ones will be here in like 5 minutes.” Dean says and he nods over to the huge table in their library. He had cooked so much all day.

“Which is why I asked you in the first place. Really mistletoes?” Sam says and he points at the one, Dean just hung up. Dean grins.

“Well christmas traditions and all that.” Dean says and Sam shakes his head, but he is grinning himself. Honestly Dean wasn’t even hoping for some kiss himself, but he knows there are a few people he’d like to make happy.

“Don’t think anyone will fall for that, but please if you’re having so much fun.” Sam says and he shakes his head again, because Dean put five mistletoes up in total and he has his phone ready to take some pictures.

“Ha we’ll see.” Dean says and gets down the ladder, just as it rings at their door. Dean rubs his hands and looks after the food, as Sam opens the door. He can hear Claire already and Dean smiles.

Sam was right, he had missed his family and while he didn’t really need Christmas, he’s glad to see them again.

“Where’s my boy?” Jody asks, when she walks into the library and Dean hastily opens his arms. Jody hugs him tight.

“I missed you.” Dean says quietly and he knows with Jody he can talk about things like that. She always understands him. Jody smiles softly.

“I’m so glad you’re all okay.” Jody says and Dean can’t put his own feelings into words. He’s proud of Jack for being their new god and he knows Jack will do a fantastic job. Even… he even got Castiel back.

Not that the angel showed his face to them since then. Dean’s heart aches and he pushes the thought aside.

“Dean!” Claire is next and Dean smiles at the sight of her. She’s holding Kaia’s hand and Dean is happy that at least some people seem to have found their luck. They all know how much Claire deserves it.

“Hey girls. Where’s Alex?” Dean asks, as he hugs them both. Even Kaia seems happy to see him and now Dean understands why Sam insisted on inviting them all. Dean could use a bit of happiness and love himself.

“Still at the door with Sam.” Claire answers and Dean sees her walking down the stairs with Donna. He can’t help but smile. Sometimes he’d forget about how many friends he actually has.

As a kid Dean only had Sammy and while as a little brother, he’s still his priority, Dean had gotten himself a bigger family. Not blood, but so much more. Dean was so sure he’d never have that and now here he stands.

A while later Charlie and her girlfriend Stevie arrive. Even Bobby greets them both with a huge hug and while they’re the apocalypse versions, Dean had really locked them into his heart.

“Eileen!” Sam says loudly and Dean smiles softly, when he sees how Sam carefully kisses her on the forehead. He had said it before, Eileen is perfect for Sam. She’s just plain amazing and so badass.

Dean steals her for just a second to give her a hug as well. Seems like everyone is here already.

Dean is glad that they have so many friends, but at the same time, Dean knows they’ve lost so many of their friends. He hopes they’re okay in heaven.

“Hey Dean, did your plan work so far?” Sam asks a while later, after they had all finished eating. Dean shakes his head, a bit grumpy, but everyone seems to avoid his mistletoes.

At least everyone had loved his food and Jody had complimented him twice. Dean had kissed her cheek in thanks without a mistletoe.

“Seems like you’re all just very shy or cowards.” Dean says and he is louder on purpose so they all can hear him. He can’t believe nobody fell for his tricks.

“You wish.” Eileen says and then she waves Sam towards her. Sam rolls his eyes, but he does walk over to Eileen and kisses her under the biggest mistletoe Dean could find. Dean hastily takes his phone and almost lets it fall to the ground.

“Go get her!” Claire cheers loudly and Sam kisses Eileen. Everybody in the room cheers and Dean can see how embarrassed his little brother is. Because Eileen pressed him against the doorway.

“See, easy.” Eileen says, when she breaks the kiss and everyone starts laughing. Dean is sure he could use the pictures for their wedding sometime.

Eileen takes a beer and then comes over to Dean. He expects her to want him to delete his pictures or at least see them, but she smiles wickedly.

“So who’s a coward now?” Eileen asks and Charlie next to them coughs laughing. Dean promptly blushes and then shrugs.

“Not like there's anyone I could kiss.” Dean answers, but it doesn’t sound convincing. He’s right, around him are only people who he sees as his kids, siblings or parental figures.

Just then the door opens again and Dean smiles, when he sees Jack.

“Jack you made it!” Sam is the first to walk towards him. Carefully so he doesn’t get under a mistletoe with Jack. The kid looks good, not even the tiniest bit exhausted, but as a god, you probably feel fine all the time.

“Hello!” Jack says and he holds up his hand, just like he always does. Dean had known that Sam had tried to reach him, but Jack hadn’t answered so far.

“Man we missed you!” Claire says and she boxes against her shoulder. Dean snorts, because here Jack is just another piece of their family and not god. He belongs to them. Jack seems relieved.

“Sorry, I hadn’t realized it was Christmas already, being god is kind of a lot of work.” Jack says and he hugs Bobby next. Dean knows Bobby had also taken the kid in.

“It’s okay, we’re glad you’re here.” Dean says and then he has to hug his kid, too. God (haha) he had really missed him. Dean feels how he finally seems to calm down. He’s happy. He has his family, he’s alive and he doesn’t have to worry about another apocalypse.

He relaxes.

“I even bought you presents. Well at least one.” Jack says and just as Dean wants to open his mouth to say they all agreed on not bringing presents (each family member broke that rule though), he stops.

There on the balcony is… is Cas.

Dean tears up without wanting to. The last time he had seen Castiel was, when he had died and Dean… Dean tries each day very hard not to think about that moment.

“Cas.” Dean whispers and it’s suddenly quiet around him. Castiel’s head snaps to him and they stare at each other. Just like they did all the time.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel says and there is a small smile on his face. Dean can’t wait anymore, he has to go up there. Just like with the fake call Dean runs up the stairs. He knows it’s not a joke this time.

Castiel seems surprised but also so nervous. Dean doesn’t care, he finally has him back, so he hugs Castiel and hides his face against his neck. He doesn’t dare to look up, because he knows everyone will look so smug.

“Dean.” Castiel says and he sounds so breathless. Dean doesn’t answer, he just presses even more into Castiel and to his own horror, is he tearing up. Castiel finally hugs him back, like he’s something precious.

I love you.

Dean can still hear how he had said those words and he hopes he will hear them so many more times. He wants to say them himself, but maybe it’s not the right moment.

“I’ve missed you, Cas.” Dean whispers, because he could say it to Jody and everyone. He should be able to say it to Castiel as well. Castiel’s breath hitches at that, but he doesn’t let go.

“I’m glad to be here as well, Dean.” Castiel says and he still sounds so uncomfortable, Dean isn’t sure why. He breaks the hug and of course that’s when everyone else wants to say hello to the angel.

Dean takes a few steps back and then walks back down to the beer he had left on the table. He’s a damn coward, Eileen was right.

“You like him, huh?” Charlie says and Dean nods. No need to deny it, Charlie from his world had known it the first second they had met back then.

“He’s like… perfect.” Dean says, even though he knows Castiel has made mistakes, they all had and Dean is good at forgiving and nobody had deserved that more than Castiel.

“Then what is stopping you?” Charlie asks and Dean isn’t even sure what stops him. Maybe it’s because he still feels like he doesn’t deserve Castiel’s friendship, then why should he deserve his love?

“Dunno.” Dean mumbles and just then Bobby waves him over. Dean sighs in relief and just as he walks towards Bobby, does he realize the old man wants to trick him. Castiel is talking to Jody, and he’s under one of the mistletoes.

Dammit seems like his plans are now backfiring. Dean winks at Bobby and then walks over to Sam instead.

If… if Castiel still wanted him, he’d… he’d come to Dean and tell him, right? Or maybe it was Dean’s turn.

“Dean? Do we still have some of your sugar cookies for Jack?” Sam asks and Dean snorts, when he sees that Jack already has a whole plate of cookies, but happily stuffs them in his face.

Luckily Dean had made like a dozen too many and they’re still in the kitchen.

“Sure give me like a minute.” Dean says and turns around to walk to the kitchen. Just of course under that doorway is Castiel now talking to Eileen. He signs something to her and Dean’s heart melts.

He’s had it bad.

Just then Eileen laughs and nods, before she walks over to the other girls, who are opening another bottle of eggnog. Dean stands there like an idiot. Castiel is still under the damn mistletoe.

“Why don’t you go over to him?” Jack asks and he doesn’t sound like he wants to force Dean to go over there, but is genuinely interested in the question.

“What if… he doesn’t want to have me next to him?” Dean asks and then Castiel looks over to him. He’s still so nervous and Dean’s heart squeezes.

“Dean, just go.” Sam says and Dean nods more to himself. He walks over to Castiel and wipes his hands on his jeans. He hopes not everyone is looking at them right now, but knowing the idiots they are.

Who would’ve thought that Dean’s prank turned on himself. But he wants to kiss Castiel, he really wants it.

“Cas.” Dean says when he is with him. “Dean - I just wanted to talk to you about the day… the day the empty came, I know what I said and…” Castiel starts to babble and Dean had never seen him like that. He shakes his head.

“Cas, I know what you said and it made me the happiest man on earth.” Dean says and he goes for a smile, even though his lips are shaking. Seems like he’s just as nervous.

Castiel tilts his head.

“I feel the same about you, I was just too stunned because I thought we would both die and then you said that and I… Castiel I’m in love with you. You changed me for the better, you are everything I want.”

Dean smiles again, because now he understands why Castiel had been so happy, when he said it. Dean is relieved and it feels good, he had known a lot had waited years to come out.

“Oh Dean.” Castiel says and Dean isn’t sure what to do now.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” Everybody else yells and Dean is pretty sure there is a blush spreading over his whole body. His face heats up and even Castiel looks so shy.

Dean winks at Castiel and then points up at the mistletoe.

“I guess… this is when we kiss?” Dean asks and he blinks up at Castiel through his eyelashes, even though he is a tiny bit taller than the angel.

Castiel doesn’t answer but he holds out his hands. Dean takes a step closer and takes his hands. They touched so many times before, but this time it feels so different. Dean had always loved Castiel’s hands but now he can finally interlace his own fingers with Castiel’s.

“You sure?” Castiel asks and Dean nods before he has even finished the question.

“Never been this sure.” Dean says and he winks badly. Castiel smiles and then he is closing his eyes, face coming closer. Dean closes his eyes himself and waits for Castiel.

And then, fuck, then Castiel is kissing him like he means it and Dean melts in his arms. Castiel’s hands find Dean’s cheeks and he kisses him softly, but still with so much heat behind it, that Dean gasps quietly.

Dean doesn’t even hear the other around them clapping. He is just focused on the kiss. Castiel suddenly smiles against his lips and Dean does too. They break the kiss like that, both widely grinning.

“Fucking finally!” Bobby says and Dean laughs, because Bobby isn’t even with them for a long time and even he had seen it. Of course.

“I love you.” Castiel says again and this time Dean is ready and they’re safe, so he finally tells Castiel what he already wanted back then when the Empty came.

“I love you too.”

Castiel’s smile is breathtaking and Dean has to kiss him for a second agan. This time he hears someone’s phone taking a picture, but he doesn’t care.

“I love you so much.” Dean says again.

Weeks later Dean’s life had changed a lot. He doesn’t have to wake up alone anymore. Now he can actually cuddle Castiel, who is even more grumpy than him in the morning and the first thing Dean always does, is to look at his nightstand.

There’s a picture of his and Castiel’s kiss from their christmas party.

Dean strokes over it. He’s the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

Castiel snores loudly and Dean chuckles quietly.

“I love you.” He whispers and Castiel smiles in his sleep.

#destiel secret santa #destielsecretsanta2020 #destiel fanfic #destiel #destiel writing #deancas #destiel fic

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peanutbutterjelly-pie · 4 years

Text

prompt: Thunderstorm

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

It's on a dark night right in the middle of a field close to nowhere when Dean finds himself realizing that all his life he never really had known what intimacy even truly means.

Sure, he experienced it with a handful of people before, so he certainly never figured himself to be a stranger to it, but the thing he has with Cas is on such a whole different level it makes him aware how utterly clueless he had been.

It's quite a strange epiphany to have on the Impala's backseat parked on an abandoned field, but it surely hits him unprecedented.

Of course the main factor of that revelation is the angel on whose lap he's currently sitting on.

When about an hour ago finally a chance arose to have some alone time with Cas Dean surely hadn't hesitated to grasp the opportunity. It's just been two days since their first kiss and since then it's been a whirlwind of emotions and monster cases and cockblocking brothers too oblivious to notice the change in relationship between hunter and angel.

Dean had been craving for some privacy with Cas, to finally sort everything out and hopefully continue where they had been so rudely interrupted before. So when Sam earlier this evening offhandedly mentioned that he could use something to eat Dean happily offered to make a food run and dragged Cas out of their motel room to accompany him before Sam even had a chance to puzzle about Dean's weird behavior.

Instead of driving straight to the food joint, though, Dean took another turn out of town and brought them deep into the open fields they passed when they arrived at this place.

And he honestly only planned to talk a little and perhaps navigate where they're standing right now with each other because that uncertainty had been driving him crazy for the last two days, but instead of awkwardly stumbling through a conversation about feelings and whatnot they quickly found themselves in the other's arms.

Kisses were exchanges, first soft and unhurried, and then fast and heated. Clothes were scattered. And before Dean even knew what was happening Cas heaved him onto the backseat as though the hunter weighted nothing and then they got lost in the sensation of lust and touch.

And now he's sitting on Cas' lap, gasping and panting and happily tingling all over because the experience has been way more earth-shattering that he could have ever imagined. And he can't wait to do it again and again and again until the end of his days.

However, the after … well, it turns out to be just as amazing.

Instead of putting their clothes back on and resume with their task of getting the hungry Samquatch something to nibble on they just stay where they are. Gentle touches, tender kisses, muttered words of affections. Dean runs his fingertips over Cas' skin and there is no urgency to it, no goal or agenda. He just wants to feel, to touch, and to never stop.

Cas seems to be not far behind. His eyes, always so vibrant and alive, are actually glowing now as they look at Dean like he's the most precious thing in the whole wide world. Like there has never been anything more important in his entire existence than Dean right here in his embrace. And as he cards his fingers through Dean's hair and presses a chaste kiss onto his forehead the hunter honest-to-God blushes because he can't remember ever feeling like this before.

They get so lost in each other that they forget everything around them. It's just when Dean suddenly notices a loud crashing sound somewhere close that he finds the strength to avert his gaze from Cas for a second.

Still rather reluctant, of course, but the noise had been loud enough to grasp him attention.

“What was that?” he wonders and realizes right away how husky his voice sounds.

“A thunderstorm,” Cas informs him casually.

Dean blinks. “What?”

It's pitch black outside and it takes the hunter a moment to notice that the moonlight obviously had disappeared somewhere along the way. Instead there are dark clouds, only illuminated by an excited cascade of lightning bolts. The whole sky seems to be in uproar.

And Dean didn't notice a thing. Even the rain hammering on the Impala's roof had gone completely undetected.

Damn.

Cas is seriously doing a number on him.

“Should we take cover somewhere?” Dean wonders, even though the thought of letting go of Cas is nearly impossible to comprehend. “I mean, we're on an open field and everything …”

“We're inside a car, so it'll be fine,” Cas assures him. “Besides, if worse comes to worse, I'm gonna protect you.”

Dean shoots him a fond look. “You sap.”

But that's probably it, isn't it? His instincts didn't act up because they knew without any doubt that Dean would be safe with his angel, no matter what. So why care about a measly thunderstorm when you've got a superpower nova to keep you out of harm's way at all times?

Dean leans in again and kisses the living daylight out of Cas, reveling in the feeling and the knowledge that this is his life now.

Because the way Cas is looking at him, touching him, made Dean fall apart underneath his hand earlier – that's not just a short-lived little fling, is it?

“So are we,” Dean whispers as he peppers small kisses onto Cas' cheek, “are we like … well, I mean … a thing now?”

Wow, very smooth.

Cas certainly must swoon on his feet.

“A thing?”

The angel is most likely aiming for confused here, but there is way too much amusement in his tone for him to not know what is going on.

Bastard.

Dean pulls back a little and tries to glare at him. He's not exactly sure if he manages to succeed due to his ongoing state of dazed happiness, but he's giving it a try anyway.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles. “Just answer the question.”

Cas chuckles. “You're a very romantic individual, I have to admit.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “And you're a sassy son of a bitch.”

“Considering I'm technically the son of God, you stay corrected.”

For a moment Dean simply stares at him, his jaw slack.

And then he throws his head back and bursts out laughing so loudly he even drowns out the thunder.

“Damn, I love you,” he can't help sighing.

And then he freezes because that's certainly not what he meant to say.

Not so soon anyway.

But Cas' expression merely gentles as he answers, “I love you, too.”

Dean meets his gaze, so steady and unwavering. As if there have never been words easier to utter than these.

And Dean's heart rate spikes up to a new record at the utter devotion in Cas' eyes.

“So yes, we are a thing now,” Cas adds, a soft smile on his lips. “As romantic as that sounds.”

And before Dean has any chance to react Cas manhandles him again and maneuvers him into a horizontal position on the backseat with the angel right on top of him. Dean makes a pleased sound at this turn of events before yanking Cas back in for yet another kiss.

And so they stay like this for a long while, just them, Baby and the thunderstorm.

#spnstayathome #destiel #fanfic #fic #drabble #rumor has it sam is still waiting for his food till this very day 😂#fluff #established relationship #fanfiction: mine #snippet

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years

Text

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Revelation

Rated PG-13 For mentions of abuse, trigger topics such as suicidal thoughts, torture, language, and kidnaping.

Masterlist

~I am not the only traveler

And then I can tell myself

I had all and then most of you

When the night was full of terrors

There aren't very many things worse than watching one's little brother die. I think the only thing worse than that is enduring it twice. I had already had to watch Jasper be slaughtered like a pig in front of me. Wasn't that torture enough for a lifetime? Was having to salt and burn my own brother the universe's twisted idea of a joke? This wasn't funny!

What kind of cruel world was I living in? Why did my last words to my precious little brother have to be empty promises? How was that okay? Jasper would spend the rest of eternity waiting for me to show up, tell him my stories, and tuck him into bed, but I never would. Because if I lived, I would be stuck down here on this awful planet, reliving the same day over and over and over again. And if the Winchester's decided to kill me when they found out what I was, then I wouldn't be going to heaven. I already knew where I would go. It wasn't anywhere good.

Well, if my life was a joke then I hoped at least somebody was getting a kick out of it.

I knew I wasn't.

From the top of the stairs, I heard Sam, Dean, and Cas open the sliding glass door and shuffle outside. Jack firmly insisted on staying here. He probably thought he should stay in case I ' needed him ' for comfort or something.

'Well, joke's on you, puppy, cause I don't need anyone.' I thought, bitterly. I traveled down the dark hallway to my room, the one with the plain white door all the way down on the end. The door opened with a soft click and squeaky hinges and I kicked it shut behind me.

My room was exactly how I had left it. Not a single thing was out of place. Of course, it was about as far away from immaculate as anything can get. There were pieces of paper strewn all over the desk, plenty of wadded-up sketches in the trash can and even more outside the trash, pencils were left in strange places, and mix-matched fairy-lights draped over way too many things. Miscellaneous articles of clothing were draped over a chair, clustered around the laundry basket, crumpled on the bed, and a few were even hanging from the doorframe of the closet. The bed wasn't made, the blankets and sheets hopelessly tangled together and there was an atrocious number of glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the roof. Oh, and let us not forget the rainbow-colored streamers hanging from the ceiling fan, so really everything was just an absolute mess.

But it was a comforting mess and that's how that girl who used to be me had lived. She had been a scatterbrained, messy-haired, and bright-eyed sort of girl, she'd had so much potential. That girl could have great. Her mess comforted me too. Maybe she wasn't as dead as I'd thought.

"Well, I'm just about done with this whole damn popsicle-stand of existence. You?" Isaac asked, sounding more dead than he looked.

"Done," I agreed. "So, so done."

I flopped down on my already messy bed, staring up at the tacky stars on the ceiling while I tried to come to terms with the fact that I'd never see my little brother again. I couldn't feel the prickling of tears forming in my eyes. I guess I'd run all out of tears to cry. Lucky me. I felt like throwing up.

"Should we go down fighting or give up and roll over? What say you?" Isaac collapsed at the foot of my bed.

"What's the point in fighting?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Dunno." He shrugged. "Frequent flyer miles?"

"So... Nothing?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Maybe I would just attack the Winchesters once I tore Felix to sheds. Maybe they wouldn't kill me fast. Maybe they'd make me suffer. Then maybe I could cry like I was supposed to.

I had hardly been debating those thoughts for a minute when I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Oh, joy. Five minutes of peace was all I'd asked for and apparently I couldn't even get that. Screw my life.

The door flew open with an overly dramatic bang but I didn't flinch. Jack stood in the doorway, eyes alight like molten gold. I turned my head lazily to face him, aware of my void expression but ultimately indifferent to it. I couldn't even bring myself to act like the fake version of myself I had made to fool the Winchesters. I felt oddly numb like nothing mattered. Because honestly, what did? Not even getting my revenge on Felix would change anything. Things wouldn't get better, my life would still suck to an astronomical degree, and this whole stupid world would just keep turning like it always did. Getting revenge was just self-indulgence, really. So what if Jack saw the real me for a couple of hours?

With luck, I'd be dead by morning.

With luck, he'd be the one to kill me.

I deserved it.

"Welcome to the year Nineteen-Thirty, puppy. What do you want?" I addressed him. My tone was clipped, calloused, and cold, but I didn't care.

Jack's eyes were glowing and the air was charged with his power; it made my hair stand on end and my ears hurt like when a plane takes off. Yet, oddly enough, if there and been one in my hand, I would have been swirling chocolate milk in a wine glass for all I'd cared.

Jack didn't answer me. His mouth opened and closed and opened and closed. There was something in his eyes, something akin to desperation. He knew what he wanted to say but the words died in his throat.

"You deaf, honey-bug?" I lifted an eyebrow and took an actual glance at his expression. He didn't look angry. He looked...

Terrified.

And shocked.

And torn.

And betrayed.

I did this. It was me. I had hurt him.

His hands clutched an object tightly between them with enough force to turn his knuckles white. It was a picture frame. I caught a glimpse of the picture within; it had been taken two weeks to the day I'd died. I looked back up to his eyes.

Ah, yes. There it was. The recognition. What a clever, clever boy.

He'd finally put all the pieces together.

'Well, good for him.'

"Uh, oh spaghetti-oh's; looks like the Nephil knows," Isaac droned from the foot of my bed.

"What are you?" Jack asked, his voice trembling. He blinked back tears, biting down on his lower lip to keep it from trembling.

I blinked, feeling sick. I didn't want to lose him, I realized. As much as the bitterness inside me tempted me to bite into him and taste his sweet blood or tell him the truth and watch him squirm just for a distraction from the pain, I couldn't. Because then I'd lose him. I didn't want to lose him. I'd already lost Jazzy today for the second time, I couldn't lose Jack too.

Isaac turned to me, his expression as empty as mine. "Ya gonna tell him?"

"I am Miss. Nidsbit," I answered, flatly. It was supposed to sound friendly like I was teasing, but it only came off as evasive. Jack glared at me. It was already happening; I was already losing him. I guess I deserved that much.

"Don't joke," He said.

"I thought it was hilarious," Isaac chimed.

"In that case, I'm bottled-depression." I flashed my teeth in a way that held no joy whatsoever. "Pint-sized for your convenience," I added, trying for a familiar joke about my height. It sounded empty.

"That was better," My brother snickered, leaning back and closing his eyes. He was probably just going to keep making sarcastic jabs in an attempt to vent his anger, so I ignored him.

"I asked you a question," Jack growled in a way that somehow managed to be threatening despite the whole baby-face puppy-eyed thing he had going on. It was actually kinda hot... Wait, what? When had that happened?

"And I answered you." I sat up. Why did I sound so bitter? Why couldn't I change it? My eyes flicked down to Jack's throat without my permission. His skin looked so soft and I realized I was suddenly famished. My throat burned and desire reared its ugly head inside me. Isaac's voice snapped my attention back to reality.

"Oh dear, Marty. You made the Nephil sniffle."

Jack clenched his teeth and hissed, seemingly bothered by the fact that I wasn't afraid of him. He wouldn't hurt me, right? No, he would. He would hurt me if he knew. If he knew what I wanted to do to him. I wanted him to hold me as he had a few days ago but I wanted to sink my teeth into him at the same time. I deserved to die.

"What are you?" He repeated, taking a step forward. He would hurt me. Good.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, my voice inflectionless. Wandering towards my dresser I started fiddling with some meaningless piece of junk. Anything for a distraction from his soft throat and thrumming pulse. Jack's glowing eyes followed me.

"Y-you're lying," He said. He was trying to sound strong, but there was something broken in his tone.

"Ya think?" I deadpanned. Jack swallowed thickly; his hand shot out to grab my wrist, eyes fading back to their soft blue.

"This isn't funny, Marty. Stop." His eyes pleaded with me. I eyed his hand.

"Or what?" I challenged. What would he do to me? He looked me in the eyes, frowning and moving closer to me. He needed to step away. I caught my gaze drifting to his neck again but I couldn't stop.

"I really don't want to hurt you," He said.

'Then don't make me tell you.' I thought. His eyes searched my face for any glimpse of his friend, but that girl had never been real, not really anyway. I had made her up.

I wished I could go back in time. Back to the night we met. We could do it all over again and maybe, if I had another chance, he wouldn't figure it out. Maybe it would've been better if I'd never come with Jack in the first place. I wished we could go back to the night we met. Then I could have said no. If I hadn't come with him, I never would have hurt Jack like this. If he had never touched me then I would never have had to feel this pain. If I could just go back.

"And you won't," I said, taking a chance.

Jack huffed, his expression pained.

"This is freakin' five-star entertainment," Isaac mused, resting his chin on his fist, observing Jack and me.

"Please, Marty," Jack begged in a whisper. His sweet-smelling breath was warm as it washed over my face. His eyes flicked down to my lips but only for a split second. No, no. Anything but that. "Just tell me the truth."

'You already know it.'

"I have," I lied. Everything kept coming out wrong! I sounded emotionless like I didn't care but I did! Jack's soft expression melted into one of betrayal.

"So, you're just going to lie?" He asked. "Right to my face?"

I didn't have control over what slipped from my lips next.

"Says the Devil's kid."

"Ooh! One point to the Marty!" Isaac laughed.

Jack stared at me like he was heartbroken. Then his eyes narrowed into a glare, lighting with gold as he released my wrist and moved his hand to seize my throat. He whirled us around and slammed me into a wall with more force than I'm sure than he intended to use. Not that I couldn't take it. Without so much as a flinch, I tilted my head as much as I could with Jack cutting off my air supply.

"Tell me what you are!" He shouted. There was desperation there.

"That's quite the grip ya got there, puppy," I taunted, rasping. He loosened his grip but only slightly, holding the picture of my family up for me to see, the corner was dated January 8th, 2014.

"You said they died five years ago. This picture- it was taken five years ago! You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!" Jack's eyes were wide, almost crazed as he glanced from the girl in the picture and back to me. He knew the truth; he just didn't want to believe it. His voice softened. "You haven't aged a day. Five years and you haven't aged a day."

My voice was soft and it wasn't just from the lack of air. "I aged about a month, actually."

Jack let go of my throat like I was burning him, shaking his head as he backed away like a frightened animal. As well he should. He was the prey here and I did want to kill him. But I wanted him to hold me again even more. "Y-you're one of them..." He whispered.

'Don't leave me. I'm sorry, just don't leave me!' I thought desperately, but that wasn't what came out. I felt trapped in my own skin, the monster inside me taking over, fed by my own bitterness.

"I'd say something along the lines of 'say it out loud' but I'm pretty sure that would have copywrite issues," I said, shrugging and moving back to sit on my bed. Jack watched me carefully.

"Felix - h-he turned you. He made you just like him - a vampire... You're a monster!" He spat the word like it was snake-venom.

And it hurt. It hurt so freaking bad. It was like I had lodged a knife in my own chest years ago and now Jack was twisting it.

'I know I am.' I wanted to say.

"Well that's a harsh way of putting it. But I've been called worse." I brushed it off like I didn't care like it wasn't that deep like I wasn't bleeding to tell him how sorry I was. I lowered my head in shame.

"I-I have to tell Sam and Dean," Jack said, shifting onto the balls of his feet, edging towards the door. He was going to make a run for it. Suddenly, I was in control of my body again.

I couldn't let him. I needed more time. I needed to beat Felix first and then they could all find out. I had to fix this. I could still fix this.

I had made Jack forget once.

I could do it again.

I would take us back in time. Before he knew. Make everything right. Take us back to the night we met.

He had to forget.

"I can't let you do that," I spoke softly, my gaze still focused on my feet.

"Are you going to try to kill me?" He asked accusingly.

"No." I shook my head. No, I could never kill him. I was too selfish for that. He deserved someone so much better than me. But I loved him.

"Then what are you going to do?" Jack shifted closer to the exit.

"Isaac," I glanced at my brother out of the corner of my eye. Jack stiffened, his eyes snapping to where mine went. "Get the door."

"On it!" Isaac said, overly eager. Jack bolted but he was too slow. My brother flicked his wrist and the door swung closed with a click. Jack swallowed thickly and glanced back to me, fear filling his features. I knew what he was going to try next.

'This is necessary. One day I'll be sorry.'

"His wings," I said to Isaac, my voice breaking. Isaac grinned widely and reached out, making a pinching motion. Jack froze in a panic, then he clenched his eyes shut groaning as Isaac twisted his hands just a bit.

"Can I rip 'em off?" He asked, basking in the Nephilim's pain.

"Isaac, no!"

"Oh, come on," He twisted his hands even more and Jack cried out, his innocent face twisting in agony. "Just a little?"

"Stop! Just-" I sighed. "Please, don't hurt him, Isaac. Just keep him still, please."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine!" He let go and Jack fell to the ground, panting and shaking. He did his best to get to his feet but Isaac flung him into a wall, pinning him there. "Go ahead and Obliviate the simp."

I stood and stepped towards Jack, slowly and carefully, trying not to scare him any more than I had. I could tell he was trying desperately to move but Isaac was too strong.

"What are you going to do?" Jack demanded, trying to hide the fear in his voice. "Are you going to drink my blood?!"

I froze.

Because I could. Then, I could make him forget.

I glanced at his throat. My fangs ached to come out - to bite. I could imagine what it might feel like to bury my teeth in that soft, delicious-smelling skin. I could imagine what he might taste like. He'd be sweet like candy. I could be gentle! Maybe if he could somehow understand how badly I needed him then he'd let me. And he heals fast so he'd be okay.

But he wouldn't understand. And I wanted him to hold me again.

I just wanted Jack to hold me again.

"No," I said. I plucked the picture frame from his hands, gazing at the smiles of my family for a moment. I looked up, trying to smile despite the ache of grief and guilt in my chest. "I'm going to need you to forget this."

"I wish I could," Jack said, glaring at the floor. He couldn't even look at me. He couldn't even look.

I nodded. "You will."

"W-what?"

I sighed and moved over to the window. The crisp breeze blew in from the sea as I threw it open, the curtains billowing like vicious barking dogs on a leash. It was a long way down to the black rocks where the land met the ocean. I dropped the picture and watched it tumble until it smashed into the rocks, shattering that perfect picture frame, shattering my picture-perfect family into a million pieces.

"I can make you forget," I told him, over my shoulder. "Take us back to the night we met." The power inside me trilled with excitement; it wanted Jack, it craved him. Or maybe that was just the monster I was, begging to be unleashed. I turned away from the window, closing it as I did.

"What do you mean?" He asked cautiously. He was scared. He was so scared.

"I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was." I would fix this. His arms would be around me as soon as I fixed this and everything would be okay. I hung my head and let the power inside me launch forward and wrap itself like chains around my Nephilim. I could feel his light, his grace, fighting back but it had nothing substantial to fight. My power wasn't physical, I just imagined it being so.

"No! W-wait!" Jack watched me with dread, beginning to feel the effects of what I was doing to him. I was locking his memories away, locking him up in his own head. But I had to. Because he wouldn't understand and I needed him.

"I have to do this," I whispered, digging my mental claws in deeper.

"Stop," He gasped, beginning to tremble with effort, "Whatever you're doing, just stop!"

"I can't stop, Jack. I'm sorry, but I just need a little more time," I said, gently. "Four moves and I win."

"Four moves..." He mumbled to himself, his brows furrowing, "Four moves? I-I've heard that before. Where have I heard that before?" Then he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Please, just forget. I need you to forget."

'I need you to hold me again.'

"Get out of my head!" Jack's voice rose with panic. He flinched away from me as much as he could but Isaac kept him pinned and helpless.

"I'm gonna make everything okay again. I promise." I fought harder against him, willing my power to work faster. Jack moaned and I glanced up to see his face contorted with pain.

"Please!" He begged me, grimacing, "Please, stop! Marty, please. It hurts." I tried harder, and a choked sob escaped his throat. "Marty, please! It hurts! It hurts! You have to stop! Please!"

"I wish you hadn't found out, Jack, and one day I'll be sorry about this."

"Wait. Wait, no!"

I pushed my power harder than I ever had before.

A horrifying scream of pure agony ripped from Jack's throat. But the walls of this house were built to withstand hurricanes. I was the only one who could hear him. With one last burst of effort, I overpowered the walls of his grace and my power flooded his mind, wiping away any memories of what I was. His scream faltered into groans and those softened into whimpers and Jack's body went limp.

Isaac let go and the Nephilim collapsed but I caught him before his head hit the floor. Carding my fingers through his hair, I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Picking him up, I carried him to my bed and laid him there. He weighed more than I did, obviously, but he didn't feel very heavy to me. I laid down beside him, hugging him around the middle and pressing my face into his chest.

Then I finally cried.

"I hope you can forgive me before I'm sorry. Because I'm a liar and don't think I'll ever really regret this."

***

"You hear something?" Sam asked, perking up. Castiel sat dutifully on a large black bolder, watching the house. The angel flicked his eyes to Sam and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head before focusing back on the house.

"Hm? Uh, no." Dean hardly spared a glance. He was too busy drawing inappropriate words in the sand with his foot. Sam frowned.

"Weird." He shook his head, swallowing thickly as he paced back and forth across the moonlit sand.

"Martina threw a picture frame from her window and it shattered against the rocks approximately sixty-two feet south-east of where you are standing," Castiel informed him, "Perhaps that's what you heard."

Sam shook his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, no. It, uh, it wasn't that. I just- I-I coulda' sworn I heard someone..." He trailed off. 'Scream,' He wanted to say. The sound had been like a phantom pain; intense yet insubstantial.

'Just like the visions...' Sam thought. But no. That wasn't possible. He hadn't had a vision or any manifestation of psychic abilities for going on twelve years! He was probably just imagining things. Sam pushed the thought away as soon as it had come. It was impossible... Right?

Yet still, his eyes wandered to the window on the upstairs floor of the dark house; the only window with a slim shaft of light peaking through the curtains. Because what if...

No .

No. Everything was fine, Jack would have alerted them if there was any danger - or at least - the brothers and their angel would've been able to see if Jack thought there was any danger. Judging by the lack of explosions, Sam could assume that everything was fine.

There was no trap here after all. Although, if he thought about it, that may have been the trap in itself. That monster called Felix had lured Marty back here to relive the most painful day of her life. There had been no vamps waiting to do her any physical harm, but Felix didn't need them to. He just wanted that poor, sweet, little girl to hurt.

And, boy was she hurting.

Sam knew how it felt to lose a brother. He knew how it felt to watch his brother die twice. Hell! Sam had watched Dean die more than one hundred times on the one hundred worst Tuesdays of his life. It had made him feel empty inside - hollow. Like somebody had scraped out everything inside of him, the good and the bad, and had left an utter nothingness in its place. And in the face of all that nothing, fear had gripped Sam's heart like a vice. Fear of that emptiness - of all the unspeakable things it made him willing to do. Sam had been willing - eager even - to do whatever it took if it meant filling that awful hole inside of him.

That was what scared him. It was that ruthlessness. It was that titanium will he'd always shied away from. It was when he'd looked into a mirror and seen John Winchester staring back at him. Deep down, that was what both Sam and Dean had always feared the most. Becoming their father. Becoming the shell of a man that had raised them.

Sam could see the beginnings of a similar shell-forming in Martina. He had seen it when they'd rescued her from that shed the week before. Her shell wasn't made of hate like John's had been - not completely at least. Marty's shell had come from grief and fear. She was just trying to hide; both from Felix and from the shell of a person that she was becoming. Jack had told Sam about Marty's memory gaps - about how she couldn't remember what had happened in the shed after she had left. Sam knew that traumatized people tend to blot things out, it was common. But things like the shed and her return to her childhood home could only serve to send Marty further into her shell.

And the last thing the world needed was another John Winchester.

"These kids were livin' a dream, aye Sammy?"

Sam frowned as Dean's mumbled words knocked him from his train of thought. "H-how do you mean?"

"I mean, look! They had everything!" He said, gesturing from the white sand of the beach to the black rocks to the brine woods. His tone and expression grew sober. "Just like a little fairy-tale. And, I mean, three psychics? Those kids - they had a lotta' potential. So smart and talented and now..." Dean trailed off with a frown.

"Yeah..." Sam quietly agreed. Dean turned to his brother with a pensive expression.

"Got me thinkin', maybe-" He sighed. It was hard for him to say and he didn't want to say it. Even though Dean knew that Marty was capable of more than she seemed and that she could affect his emotions, he didn't really care.

Well, he did care . Dean hated people screwing with his head or his feelings, period. But somehow Marty was different. He didn't really care to admit it, but Dean had always wanted a daughter. A sweet soul he could love and care for but definitely, with a badass side, he could bestow his knowledge upon. Claire was a close as he had gotten but she had already grown up and she didn't want his help. To Claire, Dean was only a painful reminder of all she'd lost.

And, of course, there was Emma.

But Dean didn't like to think about her.

Thinking about Emma was too painful.

But Marty was still young, and she didn't see Dean the way Clair did. Marty looked at Dean with hope in her eyes and he desperately wanted to keep it that way.

Jack had used to look at him that way. Jack didn't look at him like that anymore.

Because Dean had messed up with Jack. He could admit that now. He'd messed up and he'd messed up bad. Things had gotten better between them; little by little over time. But Jack hadn't even been five days old when Dean had promised to take his life. After that, Jack had only watched Dean with fear. Not hope. Just sheer friggin' terror on his face whenever the elder Winchester walked into the room. And though things had gotten better, they'd always have that promise between them.

That promise from the night when if Dean had only been a better person he could have made things better and not worse like he always did. (Because he was always making things worse. Always too selfish. Always screwing things up. Always getting people hurt. It was always him, always his fault.) Dean could've snatched that knife from Jack's hands and told him it was going to be alright even if it didn't seem like it would be. And Dean could've given the kid the kind of hug he should've been given the day he was born; a father's hug, just like Castiel would have given him if he'd been alive to do it. Because that was Cas's son. That was Cas's kid! Oh, God... Cas... How could Dean have let his best friend down so horribly? Cas, who had given everything up for him and his brother. Cas had saved them time and time again at his own expense. Cas, who would bleed every drop of blood he had with a smile on his face, all in the name of the Winchesters. How could Dean have betrayed him like that? It wasn't enough for Dean to just let the angel die! (It was Dean's fault, of course. It always was. How couldn't it be? He could have prevented it. If he'd just been a little faster or a little smarter.) No, he had to go and tear that innocent kid to pieces just cause he was sad. (So, selfish. How could he be so selfish? Why was he always so selfish?) Cas had trusted Dean with his son and Dean had repaid him with the promise to take Jack's life. No wonder Jack still could hardly bear to look Dean in the eyes. How could he? Dean wasn't meant to be a father to anyone. He was too frickin' selfish for that.

But this time, things would be different. This time around, Dean would be different - he would be better. For once in his life, he would be selfless and he'd do the right thing even if it possibly meant giving up his only chance to raise a little girl. Because, despite being tainted by darkness and tears, there was still so much good inside Martina Linville. She had so much potential, with the right chances, she could grow up to be great. But she would need those right chances and she wouldn't get them if she stayed with the Winchester's broken little family. All they brought to people was tears and death.

Dean didn't want that for her. She deserved better. Just like Dean himself and his brother had deserved better. She deserved to live a life free from all this pain - a good life, a happy life. Dean wanted that for her. Dean just wanted to help. That was all he'd ever wanted. The last thing Marty needed was more darkness in her life. She didn't need them in her life.

She didn't need him in her life.

So, Dean would be selfless and he would let her go and he would give her the chance to shine like the stars she loved so much. It was probably the most fatherly thing he could do for her. 'Cause Dean just wasn't cut out to be a Dad.

But, oh, did he wish he could be one. Even though he knew that Marty's empathic abilities were probably what was making him feel so strongly about her, Dean couldn't help but go along with it. It wasn't like she was stuffing thoughts in his head; his feelings may have been bolstered but Dean's mind was his own. Dean had always wanted a daughter, Marty hadn't made that up that wish, she'd just reminded him of it. He felt awful about how he had treated Jack and craved a chance at redemption for his mistakes; Dean had made those choices, all Marty had done was exist to give him a chance. Sure, she was rioting his emotions. But what did that matter? Because Dean wanted this and damn it! This felt real!

But he couldn't have it.

Because Dean, and his brother, and their angel, and - yes - even Jack -- it was all some sick, screwed up, god damn beautiful tragedy -- But they were the last thing Martina Linville needed.

So, Dean would be selfless.

"Thinkin' about what?" Sam's question shook Dean from his reverie and back to what he'd been meaning to say.

"Maybe we should put her into the system after all this," He said, thoughtfully, though there was regret in his tone also. Sam blinked twice, shaking his head.

"W-what? The system? You mean the foster system?" He asked, incredulously.

"Yeah? Something wrong with that?" Dean responded. Sam gaped at him.

"Is something wrong with that? Dean, everything is wrong with that!" He exclaimed. Dean opened his mouth to argue but Sam didn't let him. "We made Marty a promise! Just this morning you said she was part of the family. Was all that just talk?"

"No, but-"

"Then what the Hell was it, Dean? Because you can't just go back on something like that! We said we'd take care of her," Sam huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at his older brother.

"And that's exactly what we'd be doing," Dean argued, "Giving her a place that's safe."

"Who would take her in? She's fourteen and she's got more trauma than some war veterans, I don't-"

"Exactly!" Dean cut him off. "The kid's got issues! She needs help, the professional kind."

"Since when do you promote therapy? Sam scoffed.

"When it doesn't involve me," Dean grumbled. Sam shook his head, getting back to the point.

"Throwing her on a bunch of strangers with no clue what she's been through, and who couldn't possibly understand her even if they knew, isn't going to help her! She'd get tossed around or thrown into some group therapy home till she's eighteen and then they'd dump her back on the streets where we found her! How is that taking care of her?"

"It's getting her out of this life, Sam," Dean said firmly. Sam glared.

"You mean getting her out of your life," The younger brother spat lowly.

"What did you just say?" Dean asked dangerously.

"You heard me."

"You have somethin' ya wanna say to my face, Sammy?" Dean growled.

"Dean," Castiel said his name like a warning, his hand gripping Dean's shoulder, holding him back.

"Yeah, I do." Sam's nostrils flared and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. "I'm not gonna stand by and watch you do this again."

"Do what again?" Dean questioned, Cas' hand on his shoulder reminding him to keep calm.

"This thing you do. Anytime a kid comes along, you do this. You act all annoyed, then right as you start liking having 'em around something happens and you realize the responsibility and it freaks you out so you back off and you push 'em away."

"I don't do that," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah? 'Cause you did it with Kevin, you did it with Claire, you did it with Jack, and now you're doing it again right now with Marty. The second things get real, you get scared and you run away." Sam kept eye contact with Dean, challenging him to look away. Dean clenched his teeth, his pride preventing him from losing the contest of wills.

"Quit fooling yourself, Sam. Look at me!" Dean's voice broke just a little. But he cleared his throat, quick to cover his mistake. "Er, at us, I mean. We can't raise a kid!" He protested.

"We raised Jack," Sam countered.

"Because there were literally no better alternatives!" Dean seethed. Sam opened his mouth but Dean wasn't done. Hyperaware of Castiel's presence just behind him, guilt ate at his heart. But Dean had never been very good at apologies. "And I even screwed that up! I'm not Dad material, Sam. I'm just not!"

His outburst of emotion made Sam blink, rendering him momentarily speechless. He could have spoken his next words gently but pride made them come out like acid.

"I don't think that's what Ben thought," He hissed. Sam knew it was a low-blow bringing up Ben. That wound was still sore.

"Yeah?" Dean laughed but there was no humor in it. "WELL LOOK HOW THAT TURNED OUT!" He yelled. Sam tensed but didn't back off.

"Something isn't real because it lasts, Dean," Sam said, speaking just a little bit gentler now. "For however short a time, Ben had a dad that loved and cared about him. For however short a time, you made him happy. You say you're not dad material, but that's not what I saw. If that's what you're so worried about, then don't be. 'Cause you made an pretty awesome dad, Dean, even if Ben doesn't remember."

Dean sighed in defeat. "We have nothing to give her, Sam."

"We have trust and understanding, a-and that's more than some random foster home could give her."

Dean shook his head. "It doesn't have to be random."

"What do mean?"

"Jody," He suggested, "I mean, she's already got Claire and Alex. What's one more?"

Sam sighed through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah, she's got Claire and Alex-" He paused giving his older brother a pointed look. "- And Patience and Kaia. What's one more? That's only five emotionally unstable teenage girls to take care of, on top of a full time job as a sheriff, and hunting to worry about too."

"I agree with Sam," Castiel spoke up, "We cannot simply dump yet another troubled youth onto the already burdened shoulders of Sheriff Mills." Sam gestured to the angel as if accentuate his point.

"But at least she'd be safe," Dean argued, pursing his lips into a thin line.

"From monsters, sure," Sam agreed, nodding. Dean could sense a ' but ' coming. "But not from herself."

"Jody could help Marty just as much as we could - probably more!" He said. Dean could hear Sam grind his teeth in frustration, but Cas held up a hand to speak.

"I don't think that's true, Dean."

"Why not?" Dean asked the angel.

"'Why not?' Haven't you been listening?" Sam exclaimed. Cas shot the younger Winchester a look and he fell silent.

"I am sure Sheriff Mills is a competent and kind woman; however, Martina does not know or trust her. Sending her to live there would only be marginally better than shipping her off to a stranger," The angel stated, evenly.

"What's that gotta do with what Sam said?" Dean asked. Cas gave him a long-suffering look but continued in perfect patience.

"As weary as I am of Martina's true motives and intentions, I think it is plenty clear the choice she faces after the termination of her family's killer. That is, if she has not made her decision already."

Dean's face scrunched with confusion. "What choice is that?"

"The choice of continuing to live free from the threat of Felix Monroe, or..." The angel trailed off, frowning. His tone made Dean feel like there was a knot in his chest.

"Or what?" He pressed, cautiously. Cas sighed.

"Or to end her life and return to her family," Cas finished, soberly.

Dean was stunned. He hadn't thought- He had never realized.

"Wait, whoa. Are you telling me Marty wants to commit suicide?" His eyes were wide with fear and alarm. She was too young for that. Too young to want to kill herself. No. She couldn't. Dean wouldn't let that happen. "Where's this coming from?" He demanded. Sam glared at him.

"She told her little brother she'd be with him soon. Combine that with the scars on her wrists, and it's really not that hard to figure out," He said, coolly.

Scars? Dean understood now. That was why she was always wearing long sleeves, even in the sweltering heat of Florida. Sam took advantage of his older brother's silence.

"Think about it, Dean," He pushed, "Sending her away from first people she's allowed herself to get attached to in five years? You think that will help?"

The thought made Dean reconsider but Sam had more to say.

"A-and think of Jack! You've seen how much he cares about her. I've seen him smile more in these last two and a half weeks than he did in the five months since we got him back from Apocalypse World. What do you think would happen if he found Marty laying in a pool of her own blood? What do you think that would do to him?"

"It would kill him." Dean sighed, nodding in agreement and Sam cracked a smile.

"I mean, we both know he loves her, Dean. And I-I don't mean like a sister," The younger brother said, fondly. Dean chuckled and the tension in the air cleared.

"Yeah, there's definitely a thing there." He shook his head, grinning. "I mean, it's totally weird but it's a thing." Sam nodded and shrugged.

"Well, I dated a demon. I don't think I can judge."

"You can say that again!" Dean laughed.

The sudden chime of a phone ringing cut through the cool nighttime air like a knife and Dean reached to answer. The smile dropped from his face as soon as he caught a glance at the screen.

"Who is it?" Castiel asked.

"Blocked," Dean answered, apprehension filling his voice, "Three guesses as to who." He mumbled, sliding a finger across the screen to pick up the call and putting it on speaker.

"This is Dean Winchester," He announced as the line connected.

There was no voice on the other side of the call.

"Hello?" He tried again.

Again nothing.

Dean could hear someone breathing but they didn't speak. The breaths sounded ragged and uneven like the person was out of breath. There was background noise as well, a deep rumbling that seemed to increase in volume as time wore on. Without warning, the sound of a deep bellowing horn blared from the phone's speaker. It was the sort of horn that typically accompanies a low rumbling noise. It was the sort of horn that accompanies a really, really big train. The sound of the horn grew louder but soon began to fade as the train passed by whoever had been holding the phone. Something told him this wasn't a simple case of a butt-dial. The situation unnerved for some reason he couldn't name. It was like a scene from a movie.

"Tell me who you are or I'm hanging up," Dean said, his voice demanding.

"I-I would'nt d-do that if I were y-you!" A desperate, ragged voice called from the phone. Dean had gotten it wrong. The person on the phone wasn't Felix. The person on the phone was a little girl and she wasn't out of breath. She was terrified.

"Why not?" He asked, cautiously.

"B-because little Pamala o-only get's this one c-call." The voice on the other end sounded oddly robotic despite the words being broken into syllables by the girl's sobs.

"What do you mean?" He wondered.

"She-she's lu-ucky you picked u-up. If you hadn't I'd have t-old my friends to e-eat swe-eet Pammy here! Sh-she's seven, just so you know!" The little girl choked out.

"Felix," Dean growled, "You're using the little girl to talk for you?"

"Pamala is a c-cute little pup-pet. But she's a-annoy-ing. If she d-doesn't stop s-stutter-ing, I'll tell one of my f-friends to t-ake a bite!" The little girl whimpered and took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice for the sake of her life. " So, what shall I make Panama say next?"

Dean gritted his teeth together. To his right, Sam looked like he was going to be sick. But this wasn't just sick, this was downright vile . On his left, Cas looked about ready to rip that monster apart with his bare hands.

"Why don't you talk to me with your own voice, Nessie? Ya scared?" Dean taunted.

"No. That would ruin the fun of the game." The girl spoke slowly, trying her best to stay calm.

"What game?" Castiel demanded, sounding a step away from livid.

"You hunters and your angel have thirty minutes to come and rescue poor, little Pamala. When time is up, I'll tell my friends to- to r-rip her in- into itty-bitty pieces!" The girl let out a panicked sob after finishing the monster's words.

"How are we supposed to do that?" Dean demanded, fuming. "She could be anywhere!"

"No, not anywhere, Dean. She's sitting all wrapped up in the attic of the Florida East Coast Railway Station at Fort Pierce. I might be there with her too, gives you a chance to catch me just to make things interesting. But you better hurry, I hear t-traffic can be a biatch."

"You're gonna pay for this, you son of a bitch!" Dean growled.

"Watch the language, Dean Winchester. There are children present. You don't wanna spoil little Pamala's innocence, do you?"

Dean was so enraged, he couldn't even speak. Luckily, Sam was thinking the same as he was.

"We're gonna kill you," Sam promised.

"Perhaps. But not before I show y-you the truth."

The truth? What truth?

"This call will end in...

Five...

Four..."

"Stay strong, sweetheart!" Dean called to the little girl on the other side of the phone. "We're gonna come help you!"

"Three...

Two...

One...

...

Please save me...

...

I don't wanna die..."

Then the line clicked and the call was over.

Dean clenched his jaw and put the phone away.

"Let's go gank that sick bastard."

~I am not the only traveler

And then I can tell myself

I had all and then most of you

When the night was full of terrors

Lyrics from: The Night We Met by Lord Huron

I had all and then most of you

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awolfinyourbed · 4 years

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For both Suptober (#8 ‘heartless’) and Whumptober (#8 ‘abandoned’)! Both? Both is good... Fable of the Monkey’s Paw (under cut, and on AO3) Dean and Cas need time alone. They get it.

The windows of the Impala were hazy with steam; the October air clung chilly and damp to the outside, but inside, two bodies were doing their level best to create heat. Most of it was emanating from Dean, honestly—as angels didn't generate a lot of bodily functions unless done with willfully deliberation—and Cas was too busy giving Dean a hummer in the backseat to bother with such trivialities.

Dean howled, rough and giddy, as he came down the back of Cas' throat. And though Cas struggled a bit with the physicality of arousal (almost certainly a side-effect of his vessel having been rebuilt a thousand times), the intricate feelings of that sound did things to him he'd have never expected. Couldn't explain. Wouldn't deny or disown on his worst days.

He swallowed Dean down around a grin and smugness that curled Cas' toes. Which, if Cas took a moment to ponder, was the strangest expression of his love for Dean that his body autonomically did. Some days, his toes practically cramped with curling, but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

In the sweaty afterglow, Cas snugged himself tightly up under Dean's arm, just barely hanging on the edge of the bench seat. They'd rolled down a window, and Dean's skin bristled with gooseflesh under Cas' fingertips. The night sky was freckled with stars overhead. Some sort of nightbird trilled in the distance.

It was, no irony intended, divine.

“Think Doordash delivers out this far?” Dean's voice rumbled against Cas' cheek.

“I really don't,” Cas said on a chuckle.

“Well, shit. The HoHos in the glovebox are getting a little long in the tooth for my refined palate.”

“Sam probably stashed some granola bars in the trunk?” Cas drummed his fingers on Dean's chest, pondering. “Maybe we should order Doordash for Sam... ”

“Eh, Sam's a big boy. He told us to “Get a room, you two”, remember? Tired of being the ol' third wheel? Besides, he's got his dog and all that on-line collegeboy stuff to keep him busy. Excuse me, collegeMAN.”

“Too busy to eat, is my theory.”

“Yeah, well, maybe. Hey, we could send him fries and a Baconator—”

“Dean. He doesn't eat bacon.”

Dean snickered. He knew.

They'd been gone five days. The news had been nothing but doom and gloom and the president of the United States acting more the fool than usual, so this was a very welcomed respite. Even hunts had ebbed, what with the coronavirus keeping so many people indoors. They muted the phones and hit the road. Sam didn't need them making out on the war table when he was suffering through his virtual poly-sci class.

Eventually, sleep overcame Dean's hunger and his eyes drifted closed, lashes dark against the fairness of his face. Cas watched him for what must've been an hour. He could will his vessel to sleep if need be, but the night was peaceful and in this slender moment, Cas' world was untouchable. This is what he'd always wanted, but couldn't put a name to it until Dean finally … finally … acted on the energy that'd been percolating between them for years. After that, it was full steam ahead, as the saying went. Oh-so-much steam.

Cas stared out the window until the stars faded and dawn bleached the sky, and the rhythm of Dean's soft snoring coaxed Cas into daydreams of gentle retirement and maybe, just maybe, Cas could convince God to make him human. His hair could get gray and he could grow old with Dean.

Hey, an angel could dream.

He must've drifted into earnest sleep because he found his eyes snapping open at the escalation in Dean's voice, distant enough to be outside the car. From the color of the light, it was still early.

“Kansas City General, got it. No, no, you did good, kid. It's not you. It's … never mind. Cas and I are heading back now.”

Cas levered himself out of the car, buttoning his shirt. The wind was kicking up and Dean had his free hand shoved into a pocket of his jeans as he grimaced into the phone. Cas canted his head in question, settling a hand on Dean's shoulder, but Dean pivoted away. He pushed a button then winged the phone across the prairie.

“Sam had a heart attack.”

“What? I thought you just said Sam had—”

“I did. He had a heart attack. He's 38 fucking years old and Jack says he had a heart attack. Jesus Christ, we've been fucking our way across the midwest and Sam has been in the hospital since, I dunno, Wednesday?”

The words froze on Cas' tongue. He had no clue what to say and even if he did, Dean wasn't in a place to hear it.

“For year, YEARS, we've been giving Sam shit for his 'delicate constitution' and his fussy eating habits and his indigestion and all this time it's been, I dunno, heart disease?”

He stomped back to the car, Cas on his tail. They were going to break the sound barrier heading to Kansas City, of this Cas was sure. There were precious few stops for food or gas, hardly a word exchanged between them, but Dean begrudgingly let Cas drive through the night when Dean was nodding off at the wheel and a hair's breadth from rear-ending a semi. Cas was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to repair them from that level of trauma.

They were roughly an hour out when Cas decided to break the silence. Foolish, but this had to be aired before they reached the hospital. “We didn't know. We couldn't have known.”

“How did you not know, Cas?” Dean said, dead-eyed. Which was far more stinging than any shout. “You've healed him. Did you miss something again, like when you dragged him back soulless?”

Cas forced a sigh. “You're mad. Go ahead, yell at me. If it makes you feel better.”

“Whose great idea was it to turn off the phones, huh?”

It was Cas'. Because he'd wanted Dean to himself, uninterrupted. Because if Sam weren't around, it would be the two of them, together, without Dean's mind wandering or Sam dodging out of a room awkwardly. No cause to be covert. There was no use in denying it, and the realization burned like a thousand tiny cuts from a holy blade.

“I'll heal him when we get to the hospital.”

“You sure you can?” Dean bites out. “What's 'angel radio' saying?”

“You know I can't talk to Heaven anymore, or ask favors of them.”

“Then you'd better fucking hope we get to Sam in time.”

They were rounding the corner to the triage entrance of the hospital when Cas felt a wash of excitement from the aether, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He couldn't tell one celestial voice from the next, or whether it was joy or fury, but he knew this much: that was Death walking through the sliding glass doors to the Emergency Room. She turned and gave them a rueful smile, a shake of her head. Cas could almost hear her clucking her tongue at them. She wanted to be seen.

Dean's eyes were as wide as silver dollars.

And Cas thought to himself: maybe begging for eventual humanity wasn't such a brilliant endgame after all.

#suptober20 #whumptober #deancas #day 8 #heartless #abandoned #third wheel sam #no HEA #MCD #top dean #heed the tags!#supernatural #day 8: heartless

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mittensmorgul · 4 years

Text

Plastic fantastic

I've put off doing this long enough, and spent the intervening days reading everyone else's interpretations, so there's gonna be a lot in here, but also a lot that I've probably not focused on too heavily because other folks have already said the things better than I could've. So this is just a recap of the things I personally feel are most significant and thematically cool going forward. It's... a lot... :'D

15.04 was infused with an element of surreality. Which I ended up referring to throughout this post as “plastic.” Hence the title. But this got super long, so here have a cut. :’D

Right from the THEN segment, we're reminded of Cas. Rowena's sacrifice, Cas's own suffering at Chuck's hands, and how this has affected Sam and Dean-- Sam miserable for having done what they had to do (right?) in sacrificing Rowena, and Dean PISSED but feeling like this was the only way to free them from what he sees as Chuck being a "fanboy" of them. It shifts directly into BECKY, who was described previously as a "fangirl" and involved in a supremely unhealthy relationship with both Chuck AND Sam (even if it was completely one-sided and creepy with Sam). And then shifts to Chuck being told-off by Amara in 15.02, in essentially a recap of all the best insults and condemnations she could fling at him... because he deserved it honestly, I mean HE LOCKED HER AWAY FROM THE DAWN OF CREATION TO SUFFER ALONE WHILE HE DID HIS THING TO MAKE HIMSELF FEEL BIG.

Okay, sorry, I just really hate that guy and his hypocrisy sometimes (read: all the time).

Right. Where were we. At the beginning.

Gunfight in the bunker, with the Danger Lights activated. I've been waiting for this scene since we got BTS photos of Jensen all battered and ragged with the beard. This... isn't real. It's not SPN universe real anyway. Since the SPPT promo came out, I have been eager to see this episode just for this scene. I guessed it was a vision Sam was having/receiving because of the Equalizer Wound, the beginning of his glimpses into "Chuck's writing process." Is this an AU that Chuck actively created? Is it just the sort of thing Chuck daydreams about? Or in the style of Supernatural episodes past, is this some sort of window into the ending Chuck wants/intends to write for them, which obviously would be something they absolutely could not let stand?

Like Dean’s nightmare he awoke from in 10.09 where he saw himself slaughtering a room full of people at the beginning of the episode, which became reality by the end of the episode? Is Chuck’s horrific ending that Becky hated what we actually saw play out in Sam’s nightmare? The show has invited us to consider that as at least a possibility. Or, to at least assume Chuck’s horrifying ending was at least that awful.

There's so much in this scene that doesn't match up with what any of us might imagine Sam would even consider a nightmare of his own mind's creation, you know? And yet it's SAM who is plagued by these incongruous nightmares that don't even really connect up with things that are relevant to the things currently on his mind, you know? After recent events, one would think the things that would plague Sam's nightmares would be the loss of Jack, or his role in Rowena's apparent death and his guilt/depression over it, or even the fight against the ghostpocalypse and the people who lost their lives as a result of that. Instead, he's having "nightmares" about having gone full Boy King of Hell demon blood addict, which hasn't been a pressing personal fear of his for more than a decade. He's even talked specifically about how he's made his peace with that entire time in his life, such as his talk with Magda in 12.04. NOT coincidentally also written by Davy Perez.

That's because... this is NOT Sam's "nightmare." Why would Sam "dream" about Dean's regular gun having the power to spark out demons? Why would he "dream" about BENNY being a human (and alive!) ally of Dean's that Sam had sent his own army of demons to destroy? Why would Sam dream that his demonic-self would hunt down and kill his loved ones (Bobby! Jody! and nobody else mentioned! as if this was some weird time-travelling situation combined with Benny's human presence!), and then in the end hunt down and murder Dean in cold blood? This wasn't Sam-As-Lucifer (though I believe we will be seeing that particular nightmare in next week's episode), but SAM. HIMSELF. Turned into the demon he always feared he was "destined" to become before they learned how to tear up the story and make their own choices about their destiny.

The problem now is that they actually believe that Chuck has gone, and they're on their own now. Sam believes that this must be his own nightmare, and therefore he's just stuck with it, as his own mind and memories and fears come back to torment him. He's lost his power to fight against it, like Dean's lost his power to fight against his current experience. It's as if the only power Chuck retains over them is in the fact that they BELIEVE he's gone, you know? Magic's power is in the belief of the caster, Rowena has recently reminded us with her own life. And I think that's exactly what's leaving Sam and Dean so completely vulnerable to manipulation by Chuck, in ways they've never before been vulnerable to it. Because they've both staked their entire futures on the fact that they so firmly believe they're free of Chuck's story.

Sam is just... so confused by this nightmare, he can't even make sense of it at all. And the sleep deprivation isn't probably helping.

I think we've all covered the Meat Man conversation already, as well as all the Dean vs Food stuff, so I'll only add that commentary in here if I think of something I haven't already said on the subject.

Dean calls out Sam's assertion that he's fine, directly telling him "No, you're not," and expressing his understanding of what he's going through.

And here come the cheerleaders. And doesn't this (as I believe many of us have already said over the last two weeks) just smack of Sam's "fake case" Gadreel had him trapped researching inside his own mind in 9,10? Crowley had to convince Sam that what he was trapped inside wasn't real, that he was possessed by an angel who was forcing him to experience these things. And obviously the God Wound isn't direct possession, and I don't doubt that this is a real case, but how much of this case might have been "arranged" by Chuck, or how much of Sam's perception right now may be clouded or colored because of the effects of that Wound?

Not only that, but Dean is also a participant in this entire odd case, and he doesn't even HAVE a wound connecting him directly to Chuck, you know? But his judgment seems to be equally clouded by something, as well... I'm gonna call it Intense Denial. Dean is basing his entire life right now on the presumption that Chuck has stopped interfering in their lives, when I think the exact opposite is true. I think Chuck is now focused on them more directly and more intensely than he ever has been before, and their obliviousness to that fact is only strengthening his hold on them, and amplifying his power over them.

But back to the current point in the episode:

Sam interviews the vice principal of the school, and the girl who was killed was in the drama club, debate team, cheerleading, campus ministry, you name it. That's... an awful lot of potential friends, so Sam asks about BEST friends, and we're directed to Veronica "and the girls." Veronica is singled out, which makes her speech to the empty room later even more interesting...

This episode relies on a lot of the elements of the case they're investigating to seem rather... plastic. And Veronica stood out as one of these elements. She could've just been "one of the girls," but she was identified specifically here, and it's like that designation itself somehow altered reality just a little bit. Heck I think I'm gonna need to put this line of thought on hold until we get to the speech scene. Remind me to come back to this.. >.>

The Whitmans interrupt (oh those crazy parents from 1.08, at it in a completely different role), seemingly uncaring of the dead girl and demanding their son's future not be ruined by postponing the lacrosse game. (OH THE IRONY) Sam rightly calls them out on framing it as "the end of the world" if he doesn't get into his first choice college. These parents have already been established to be Those Kinds of Parents who will do anything for precious little Billy to get whatever he wants in the world. They'd probaly strangle kittens on live TV if it would guarantee their son's future, you know? We haven't even seen the full extent of what they were willing to do for their son, and they already feel like cartoonish villain types.

I need to take another aside here to talk about the boy’s name. BILLY. Which, considering how we left things in 14.20, we’ve all been wondering about what Billie is up to in the Empty, right? This boy that will, by the end of this episode, become a literal stand-in for Jack on a cosmic scale? Is called Billy. Just... consider that.

I can already hear Becky critiquing Chuck's Monster of the Week here... and in turn parts of the fandom cynically saying that this is the complaint on MotW episodes forever-- that they're boring or unimportant or skippable because the monsters are predictable and boring, and just... NO. YOU HAVE OFFICIALLY MISSED THE POINT.

I think the general assumption is that the case we watch Sam and Dean solve is being directly affected by Chuck's simple act of typing it out. In exactly the same way we believed Metatron influenced the events of s9 by the simple act of typing it out. Could he control the thoughts of the people he wrote about? Not exactly. Could he manipulate the situation via the power of the angel tablet-- the direct word of God-- to influence the scenario and events in improbable ways? Yes, I absolutely think he can. And I'll continue discussing this as we go along.

But we return to Dean leaning against the car eating pretzels. I've already written about his constant eating and drinking in this episode, but PRETZELS?! That's a new one for Dean. It's usually jerky, or chips, or candy, or... all sorts of other things. Where did he even get the pretzels from?

He'd apparently been at the morgue examining the body, and found a vampire tooth. So this case that seemed NOTHING like a vampire case based on how the body was found, suddenly there's irrefutable evidence that it's a vampire instead. Almost as if the facts of the case have shifted somehow, rather improbably and inexplicably. Just as inexplicably as Dean finding the beaver mascot riding a scooter "awesome."

The second girl to be abducted calls out Veronica as being "so fake" in her grief over Susie's death. And yet, improbably, after a long cheer practice, she's the only one alone in the school parking lot late at night. Where's the rest of the cheer team? The coach? Anyone? How was she there all alone? Yet she was, because the case needed her to be.

It's plastic.

Like the little square of crime scene tape left unattended in the woods. Weird, right? That after the scene was cleared and the original investigators left, it was still left there around an empty patch of dirt. And Sam and Dean... are just... standing there at the edge of the woods, boxed in by yellow crime scene tape and orange cones while they have their conversation about the fact the police have no idea what could've done this, and Sam laments the fact that it's THEIR job. THEY deal with the truth and carry the weight, while everyone else gets to go back to their blissfully unaware lives.

Dean busts out the flask while the two of them stand there in their own personal crime scene box, like their lives are the crime here. They ARE the victims of a cosmic crime. And the corpse of what their lives could've been, of what Sam had always thought he'd want of his own life, to live in a little town like this and just be NORMAL, is what they'll find on the autopsy here. And Sam is just beginning to realize he can't identify with those sorts of people at all.

And then we jump right from Sam lamenting the lost white picket fence to Becky's house-- where the front railing is white pickets, where she's built a real life for herself. Yet even something about it seems... off... just a little bit. That older kid seems way older than 7, which I assume would be the oldest any of her kids could be based on when we last saw her in canon, before she began to recover from her obsession and begin building a true happy life for herself. Heck maybe I'm talking myself into a problem that doesn't exist, and he's supposed to be just a really big 6-year-old, but okay. Or maybe he's adopted, or the kid of her husband from a previous relationship. GAH This is so not relevant to anything, why can't I let it go... >.>

Regardless, she clearly loves her family, and is invested in her life with them. Her husband is a man who truly appreciates and loves her in return. I'm really happy for her. Her husband at one point says, "Where would I be without you," and she jokingly replies "Covered in puke." And it's the same sort of cute exchange we saw between Sam and Jess in the pilot, where he asked, "What would I do without you?" and she jokingly replied, "Crash and burn." And considering that Sam himself will mention Jessica at the end of the episode, it seems worth pointing out the thematic similarity they're trying to set up here.

I wonder how much Becky has told her husband about the reality of the Supernatural books she's built her business and hobbies around, or her own part in the events of the books? More than Sam ever told Jess about the reality of his life? At this point, I'm gonna be glad her husband didn't end up pinned to the ceiling on fire.

Becky waves goodbye to her family as they leave for a day of fun, and Chuck waves back at her. He's inserted himself into her life again, and it's freaking creepy.

Chuck says he "wanted" to see her, and corrects himself to "needed." And here we have the laying out of the classic “NEED VS WANT” conundrum we’ve been yelling about for literal years. Funny that Chuck has it all wrong himself, you know? Becky makes herself clear that she neither wants nor needs him. He's not welcome there at all, and yet he presses on, past her assertion that his problems aren't her problem. I've already written a little bit about what Chuck apparently wanted from Becky, and what he actually got from her, so I'll try not to repeat myself, but to say that Becky was far kinder to him than he deserved.

So we learn about the second cheerleader's kidnapping, Dean makes an uncharacteristically flippant comment in front of the Vice Principal (somebody has a fetish), and kinda... blinks in shock at himself before professionally affirming they'll look into it and turning and walking away. Like he can't quite believe he actually said that. Which is weird, right? Because this is the sort of thing Dean has made flippant and kinda gross comments on in the past, right? But even when he's made comments about which cheerleaders are legal (4.13), or suggestive comments about even college students, he's rarely done so this blatantly directly TO the school principal, you know? This was... odd... like everything is just slightly out of sync.

I'm fascinated by the tiny models of Supernatural things that Chuck is prodding at in Becky's house. The first thing we see is Lil Levi's gas station. The only time we have EVER seen this gas station was in 10.03, when Hannah and Cas stopped there for gas, and yet Becky has the Impala parked by the pump, and what looks like a yellow classic car of some sort on the other side, hidden by the pumps so it's impossible to really see it there.

(I swear I will replace these Mittens Quality Screencaps™ as soon as HotN properly caps the episode... apologies for the photos of my tv in the meantime)

It was Cas's pimpmobile we've actually seen at this location in canon. And this was the gas station where Cas was losing his grace, desperately trying to get to Dean in time to save him, and Hannah kept getting them lost. He calls her out over her feelings-- dangerous temptations-- clouding her judgment and getting in the way. They're attacked by Adina, and Crowley arrives just in time to save them both from her, stealing her grace and force-feeding it to Cas, enabling him to power up again and save Dean. Aah, callbacks! And I mean, it might just be a visual callback to the fact that Jensen also directed that episode (and that gas station was named after his nephew), but it's still a reference that brings an awful lot of baggage with it, regardless of what prompted its appearance in miniature in Becky's house. Not to mention, this reference happened LONG after Chuck had supposedly stopped writing about the Winchesters' lives. And yet... Becky seems to know this reference, which had nothing to do with Sam and Dean and everything to do with Cas.

The second model we see looks incredibly like (or at least should all be having us THINKING of) the Carver crypt from the first three episodes of s15. And that's... super creepy, right? What is this building? Why did Becky have a model of it at all? This happened DAYS ago in canon.

And the third is Singer Salvage yard, with the Impala parked out front. How long has it been since we've seen it? In an episode that opened on Sam's "nightmare" that involved him strung out on demon blood having just killed Bobby and Jody in Sioux Falls? Interesting that Chuck expressed fascination with that particular model in this episode, isn't it?

He asks if Becky is still obsessed with his work, and she corrects him. She's obsessed with HER work. She'd essentially dismissed Chuck as the creator of Supernatural, and relegated him to the role of Recorder Of Events, as a prophet. It wasn't actually HIS story. But what she's made of it, what she's made her life's work, IS HER OWN CREATION, based on the same reality she believed that Chuck had been nothing more than a conduit for. And OUCH for a guy like Chuck to not even get credit for any of it now, because of the lie he'd told to insert himself into his own creation. It's incredible to me. He wants nothing more than recognition as the creator, as the writer, and Becky's far more interested in her OWN stories about the same characters. She saw herself as more than Chuck’s equal as a writer, she saw herself as his superior. He just recorded, she CREATES. She dismissed everything Chuck was most interested in, and writes the characters all having achieved a measure of peace and happiness, the same as she has. And Chuck... hates it. :'D

Remember, this is the guy who invented monsters before he invented anything else. Leviathans were his first creation, even before the archangels. But they had a nasty habit of eating everything else he tried to create, so he grudgingly locked them in Purgatory, and moved on to the next thing. And he's had a lot of similar failures over the years... like the original hellhound that Lucifer stole away (and that Sam killed in 12.15). Seems like this has always been the story Chuck wanted to tell, because he's always only ever had his original drama with Amara as a source for his creation. He's... obsessed... with his version of events, no matter how many times he's confronted with reality, he weasels out of personal responsibility for everything. Like he does in this scene with Becky, letting her believe he's just a poor dude who wants to keep writing and lost his writing mojo because his prophet powers dried up.

This is probably the first Becky's heard Chuck had a sister, who Chuck only explains rejected him because she "sucks." And... Chuck... you're leaving out the horrific things you've done to her as an explanation of why she refused to help you. He's still hiding behind the “super cute” Chuck Facade. And nothing he says is an out and out lie, but it's entirely a manipulation, a complete reframing of the cosmic scale of what's happened into something he expects Becky to be able to offer him sympathy over. And she's just not having it. And again, good for her.

Chuck admitting that he's lost and hates himself at least engages Becky enough to try something to get him moving forward (again, still thinking he's just a guy who's lost everything). And tells him if writing makes him happy, then he should write.

Meanwhile Dean's incongruously eating a hot dog (WHERE IS HE GETTING ALL THIS FOOD?!) and interviewing a beaver. Sam questions why, and Dean's not only gotten information about the case (mascots have access to cheerleaders), but information about the kid inside the suit (he's a smart kid, got a full ride to IU). Dean's been unusually productive while chewing that hot dog, apparently. But he’s basically a caricature of himself during this case, like he’s trying to wear a suit he hasn’t worn in 15 years, and is finding it really ill-fitting. (it’s probably all the snacks he’s eating, honestly)

Veronica hands Billy a black wristband printed SUSIEFOREVER, which... is probably how Billy's feeling at the moment (hello, she was his girlfriend and he accidentally killed her... this is gonna haunt him forever). Veronica (who we've already been told by the latest girl to disappear is "so fake" in her grief over Susie's death) seems to be coming on to Billy, or at least making her interest in him known. And we DON'T know how all of this will resolve yet, but there's an awful lot going on in this scene. Did Veronica actually kill Susie? Is she the vampire and is that the reason for this OTT "so fake" grief on her part? Did Billy's "anything for my kid" mother who interrupts the scene actually kill her and Billy know something about it? Why is everyone acting so... weird?

Because we're back to the plasticity of this entire case again. What's actually killing cheerleaders? What's really going on here? If this entire case is Chuck's machination, because he wrote it down, and therefore subtly affected the situation, is that why everything seems just slightly off? Slightly malleable, as if Chuck is only working out the details of the case as he's writing it all down?

Billy leaves with his mom, and Veronica is left in a dimly lit gym filled with empty chairs and programs for the memorial service. She's practicing her speech to this huge empty room, speaking into a microphone. And as she talks, she edits her speech.

We've seen Chuck do this. in 4.18, he had Dean push the doorbell with determination, and then went back and edited it to read "with forceful determination." Just before the doorbell rang, and it was a forcefully determined Dean doing the ringing... So Veronica's self-edit here seems almost like a Chuck self-edit.

Remember how I mentioned way back toward the beginning of this mess how Sam asked the VP for a clarification on who Susie's "BEST" friends were, and Veronica was singled out among a group of her close friends? And now Veronica stands alone not only as the sole person in the room here talking to empty chairs, but as the one with apparent motive to kill Susie, who's been accused of expressing a lot of over-the-top melodramatic "so fake" grief. And... she edits her relationship with Susie on the fly:

Veronica: We are here to celebrate the life of my friend Susie. No. *clears throat* *takes a breath* We are here to celebrate the life of my best friend Susie. My best friend Susie who I miss like... *sigh* like she was a part of me. And in many ways she's still a part of me. She'll always be a part of all of us. Susie Martin was as rare as a ghost orchid and as unique as a snowflake. So beautiful inside and out. But as Robert Frost tells us, nothing gold can stay. And that's what Susie was. Pure gold.

And during this entire speech, to the empty room, the music in the background is ominous, looming, tense. The musical cue is telling us to doubt her performance here, with the high strings picking up the tension just as she comes to a close and Dean shows up with his slow clap. I mean, it was a pretty OTT speech, delivered with an intensity that literally does feel rehearsed. Stilted. Plastic. Everything in the case so far has pointed the arrow at her being the monster. The framing of the narrative would support it if it had been true, but the background of the entire case feels exactly as Becky has described it. What if THIS was the original ending to the case that Becky had voiced her complaints about, as if THIS is the story that Chuck would've written.

But that's such weaksauce. MotW episodes are nothing if not thematically consistent. Vampires are about revenge cases, and this case is a very specifically pointed bit of revenge, of Chuck against the Winchesters. They ruined the last story he tried to tell, and the fact this started out looking like something OTHER than a vampire case (possibly a ghoul, based on the parallel to 9.10, and a dismembered body), and then seemingly remolded itself INTO a vampire case halfway through... it feels like that first fang Dean found at the morgue was Chuck sinking his teeth into their lives.

And Veronica, no matter how the case had painted her to this point, was completely innocent. A bit plastic, because she's a victim of this reality bend as much as Sam and Dean are, because the real monster of this case is Chuck-- only Sam and Dean don't have any idea yet.

Dean calls her on her fake emotions, and they directly accuse her of killing her friend. And get the proof that she was innocent because she HAS BRACES, which she's apparently self-conscious about, but it proved she wasn't a vampire. *SIGH*

Plastic.

So Sam and Dean look for video evidence from surveillance cam footage, which the police had apparently already looked at and found nothing, but now they find a car driving past immediately after the second girl's abduction. Did the police not see it? Or is this another bit of plastic?

Meanwhile back at Billy's house, his parents refuse to even hear him say Susie's name, and suspicion immediately shifts to their entire family. Billy's father washes blood off his hands, and nobody seems to find this strange. Are they all monsters? Did one of them slip up? What the heckeroo is actually going on here? Whatever it is, it feels like they're all complicit, and Billy seems to be having reservations. Except they've also got the latest victim tied up and blindfolded in their storage room. So... they're definitely guilty of something. But we're only halfway through the episode at this point, so there's clearly more to the story.

Chuck tells Becky he can't see what Sam and Dean are doing anymore, as he conveniently scratches at his left shoulder where his wound connecting him to Sam is. Which is wild, right? Because what little we know about the Equalizer gun was that it fired INTENT. And that it affects the person shot and the shooter identically. So what was Sam's intent when he shot Chuck? Dean had just told Chuck to "Go to Hell," but Sam didn't say anything out loud when he shot Chuck. Was his intent "stop fucking with our lives" or more vaguely grief-filled "go to hell" or something more? Because whatever intention Sam shot at Chuck seems to have directly caused both Chuck's loss of power AND his inability to see directly into their lives now. And after having watched the Sam and Dean show for their entire lives, Chuck is PISSED about not being able to see what they're up to.

And I wonder, incidentally, if this will be the same factor that's causing problems for the Winchesters, too... that Sam may have inadvertently severed whatever protective force had made their lives as hunters as... implausibly unproblematic as they've always been, you know? I think we'll be seeing that develop more in the next episode, but we saw hints of it happening in this episode too (like with Dean's comment about the killer having a cheerleader fetish). But regardless, I think this is why Sam is suffering these grief-fueled nightmares, his inability to breathe, and his general current mental state. He’s suffering from the same intent he’d fired at Chuck. Only it hit Chuck with a case of writer’s block, while it hit Sam with something he’s been unable to truly define or explain. Yet.

Becky tells Chuck to write about the Winchesters if he loves their story so much, because that's what SHE does. Her stories don't have to be based in reality for her to enjoy them, but Chuck's only metaphorically a writer. He doesn't just want to make up tales, he wants to literally create reality. During Becky's entire pep talk, Chuck's holding a little figurine of Sam pointing a gun, and ain't that just on the nose? She plucks Sam out of Chuck’s hands and puts him back on the mantle (and I admit to at first thinking it was the Cas doll from 5.06, because Dean did the same thing with Cas, putting him up on the mantle like that), but Chuck still expresses doubt in his ability to actually write.

And here's where the most incongruous stuff in the entire episode begins happening-- the family dynamics of a killer family. It's still unclear who the monster is among them, but like Dean, we are leaning toward the father. The thing is, none of it's actually plausible. That's the beauty of this entire case. It's plastic.

How did this single kid out of this entire town get turned by a vampire, and his parents just... completely accepted what happened immediately without question? How did they KNOW what to do for their son in this circumstance? They went out and killed animals for their blood for him. Where did they learn to do this for him? And then how could they so casually just... kidnap a whole human being just to feed their son? Why not go back to feeding him animal blood like he'd done before? They didn't see anything wrong with any of this, either. DID THESE PEOPLE NOT HAVE QUESTIONS?!

And what of the vampire that made him? Did that vampire just... turn him and run? Did he give the kid a pamphlet explaining vampire life to him or something? It's just utterly baffling that this whole family just... incorporated this development into their lives as if it was all an entirely normal thing to accept about their kid. The dad KIDNAPPED A WHOLE ENTIRE HUMAN BEING for him on his own initiative, the mom was ready to shoot Sam and Dean for interfering in their plans. LIKE HOW IS ANY OF THIS NORMAL?!

And perhaps most bizarre of all, Sam and Dean didn't see anything wrong with it in reflection later that night. But I'll get to that when we get there. Heck this note-writing thing is really hard when I already know everything that's gonna happen. I have enough trouble staying on point without the benefit of foresight. :'D

So these parents are insistent that they're doing all of this, sacrificing all of this, just for him. And when he tells them he doesn't want them to, they just beg him to tell them what he wants from them. And he's just so frustrated because they aren't listening to him. Like they don't even care about him despite professing they're doing all of this so he can be happy. And he's just... profoundly not happy.

So the father, when Sam and Dean show up, still thinks they're going to ARREST him. Which is a weird thing for a suspected vampire to believe, and he's horrified when Dean pulls out a machete instead of handcuffs. This is a totally shocking development for him, and yet he STILL holds it together enough to bargain for his wife and son's lives. And the wife is profoundly confused by this, and our suspicions shift to her. But that's still... not quite right. She's prepared to literally shoot what she believes to be two FBI agents to save her son, again, as if all of this was entirely normal. As if this is what normal people are willing to do for their monster children.

I've already written a bunch about Becky's critique of Chuck's writing, and how poorly Chuck takes her notes. Chuck... is really out of touch with fanfic culture. Becky's reading this story as if it was fic, not reality. She kudos'ed and commented, and expected Chuck to just accept that and move on, because that's how fic culture works. But he demanded a beta read level critique, and Becky gave it. And he shouldn't have asked for it if he didn't actually want it.

And here comes the revenge that justifies the Vampire Plot. Chuck... is the vampire. he's the monster that doomed Billy for no reason. Who drove the parents to such extreme lengths to protect their child. Because that's how CHUCK saw what TFW had done to protect Jack. He saw it as just that outrageous and unfounded, even though it was in no way the same. We just witnessed Chuck's critique of TFW's actions in 14.20, and it was scathing, mocking, and vindictive.

Plastic.

But I also suspect that Becky wasn't reading ~this case~ exactly, because she complained that Sam and Dean were tied up (they were never once tied up in this episode), and she complained about the villain monologue being stale (Dean does most of the monologuing here, and it's Sam who figures out what's actually going on). Just one more bit of plastic.

But Chuck somehow managed (even if he couldn't see it) to put Jack's 14.20 realizations about himself into Billy's mouth. As if Chuck's story had already been written, and through some power of its own it was brought into reality via these previously innocent people. The story itself is more powerful than the author.

Like Jack, Billy has been trying to accept responsibility for his actions. He couldn't control himself, he didn't know it would happen, but he's dangerous and needs to be stopped. And Billy's speech isn't a "villain monologue," but a painful confession of everything he'd done. So what story was Becky reading?

Sam angrily judges the parents' actions, and Dean expresses his shock that the father would've just let him cut off his head to save his son. And is taken aback at the comment that he must not have kids, if he doesn't think he wouldn't have done the same for his own child.

And Dean's like... well, no I wouldn't have done the same for my own child. It's a super messed up situation that I'd really been trying not to think too hard about, thanks. It's been less than a week and here you go bringing up the worst day of our lives, so thanks for that... but they carry on. The mother says they just wanted him to have a normal life, and that's something Jack never would've had regardless because of what he was. But he had *a* life, with the Winchesters. If Jack had been a vampire, they wouldn't have gone out hunting and kidnapping teenage girls for him to eat, you know? But they were willing to raid heaven and shout down God for Jack. But context matters. And this hastily assembled vampire family ready to play revenge/victim for Chuck's story lacked all context. They were plastic.

It's Billy who ends up dictating how his parents are to handle everything, calm as can be. And his parents finally listen to him. And he sacrifices himself to the Winchesters. And they just... go along with it, take him out to the woods, and Dean kills the boy kneeling at his feet, accepting his fate as he's clearly crying, while Sam watches on. It's what Chuck had wanted in 14.20, and Dean had refused to give him. And now this entire situation has been Dean, manipulated into providing that demanded sacrifice, one way or another. And the most interesting bit of it? Chuck... couldn't even see it playing out. He missed the whole show that played out in Chuck Puppet Theater despite the fact. Like whatever he actually wrote was irrelevant, because his intent is somehow still connecting through to the Winchesters in pantomime.

And Sam and Dean's reactions to all of this are also just weirdly plastic.

I've already written about Chuck and Becky enough I think, but Chuck's moved on from "Writers lie," to "I can do anything, I'm a writer." With some of the worst villain monologue we've ever gotten, with "There, see, it's making you feel something! That's good, right?" While Becky is outraged and heartbroken over Chuck's ending. The only thing I need to say about whatever Chuck's planned ending is, is that if the series ends the way CHUCK wants it to, it'll go down as the biggest intentional betrayal of a fandom in the history of television. The show has stated to us in this episode that Chuck is the final boss big bad, and that he cannot be allowed to win. He can't have the final word in this story.

In *our* world, the current writers have officially called out a good number of sins of their past and exposed them via Chuck. They wrote the Leviathans being a personal favorite of Chuck's despite being pretty universally hated by fandom... well... they're looking for redemption for themselves in s15. THEY can't allow the story to end horribly. They've staked their current writing cred on it, as well as the entire history of 15 years of building TFW into the heroes. Sure, they've joked that not all fans will be happy with the ending, but in serious comments they've also promised a "real" ending and not some advanced level deus ex machina that wipes everything clean, either. That's a lot to deliver, and Chuck's suggested ending of the Winchesters horrifically dead doesn't deliver any of it.

So... back to the denouement of the episode. To the Impala! The least plastic thing in the entire episode. But it's pretty plastic.

Sam suggests that what Henry did for his son, was something they would've done for Jack, given the chance. And no, he's not talking about kidnapping teenage girls to feed him, he's talking about offering himself as a sacrifice in his son's place. Because Dean literally did do that. He was willing to sacrifice himself to kill Jack before he could kill again. It's what Chuck had presented as the ONLY way to stop Jack from destroying the world, with the examples of Jack having accidentally killed Mary, and then the whole of society crumbling because Jack told everyone to stop lying. But Sam? He wasn't willing to sacrifice both of them. And then he learned the truth from Chuck, about the manipulations that forced them all to this point, how Chuck probably did have the power to make everything right, restore Jack's soul, everything... but he didn't want to because it was more entertaining for him to watch them act out his plots instead. He WANTED that drama, that horrible sacrifice. He ENJOYED it.

But given the choice, I think Sam and Dean both would've traded places with Jack. We actually *saw* Cas literally exchange himself for Jack in 14.08. But Chuck wasn't satisfied with that trade. He wanted more from them, and they decided they were done playing on his stage.

There's a bit of incongruity in the speech Dean gives Sam about his current state, as well. He's usually so much better at reading Sam, yet he's comparing Sam's current mental state to his own back in the crypt, after Chuck. And just... no? This is not it at all? When he told Sam he's felt like cashing in, *we* think of 13.05, where he literally DID think of cashing in, you know? That feels far more similar to how Sam's feeling right now than to Dean's ANGER and "we need a plan!" bossiness from the crypt after Chuck. It's jarring as a comparison, because IT'S THE WRONG THING ENTIRELY.

But it's wrong, because it's the glaring omission of Cas that's already been lampshaded in the episode. That Dean's current blind spot here is shining a violently bright light on what SHOULD be said. Just like the end of 13.05 when we all yelled "HELLO, DEAN" at the television when Cas didn't say the line to him. We've been talking FOR YEARS about how this show uses narrative negative space like this, how it expects us to shout HEY WHAT ABOUT CAS?! at the screen, or to see that even this driving scene in the dark, in the car, is a perfect inverse mirror of that scene in 13.05, where Sam had spent that entire episode feeding his favorite junk food that he criticized Dean for in this episode, Dean and dragging him out on a case in the hopes of making him feel like himself again and... that's what Dean's telling Sam he wanted to work this case for now, to show Sam exactly what Sam had tried (and failed spectacularly) to show Dean in 13.05.

Dean even quotes some of Cas's last words to him before he left, that he should "move on."

But they needed to walk around the giant Cas-shaped hole in the narrative. And they needed to do it this incongruously. And that's exactly why it works.

And it's why Sam CAN'T move on. He doesn't feel free. I've already written a bit about this, and how it's directly tied to Sam's wound, and what it's probably doing to him. And what IS it doing to him? Chuck wobbles his head side to side, and the Sam and Dean bobbleheads on the desk beside him follow suit.

#spn 15.04 #spn s15 spoilers #i have no idea how long this is but it's so many long #the scheherazade of supernatural #this is The Author actively preventing shahryar from listening to the final story #we are all shahryar

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monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my · 4 years

Note

uhh idk what to ask but go off about jack ✌️😳

Ooohh Yes

I love this kid so freaking much.

His innocence, his sweetness, the way his main goal in life is just to be good and be loved. It’s so refreshing.

I honestly was getting bored with the show and TFW’s constant spiral of backsliding into self-destruction and infighting before Jack came around. At the time it just felt like something had to change. The writers took a huge risk bringing in a “kid” character in the show but thankfully their casting department is magic and Alex C. does a great job.

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Jack is the kind of character I easily get attached to. I was a kid who struggled socially so seeing someone try SO hard to be loved and accepted and who beats themself up when they can’t seem to do things right tugs on my heartstrings and makes me want to hug him and tell him everything will be okay. (plus I love crossbreed half-human characters)

He’s just a kid and his family doesn’t always seem to get he doesn’t see the world the way they do and he takes things he's told to heart if you don’t tell him otherwise, which is part I think of why he struggles so much and tries so hard.

A lot of people apparently think of Jack’s innocence and lack of knowledge as the same as Castiel’s but I don’t really see that. Castiel’s innocence is like a loveably confused ancient celestial while Jack’s is a pure well-intentioned optimistic baby who's trying to make sense of the world.

In a world where things are constantly pessimistic Jack seeing the best in people and at times managing to bring out the best in people through that faith is a beautiful thing. Plus I think it’s really sweet he wants other people to feel happy and loved and acknowledged the way he wants to be loved and acknowledged.

A lot of people get annoyed when Jack does something “childish” but in my eyes A. He’s two what do you want from him? B. I think it’s adorable. C. I think it’s actually really interesting when he makes a big mistake that actually feels like what might happen if you gave a child extraordinary power (out of lack of understanding or control).

I love it when Jack gets unabashedly enthusiastic about something he thinks is cool whether it be food, or zombies or Starwars, it’s really adorable.

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Even just from a story perspective, I love what Jack adds. The Winchester’s and Castiel’s failures in teaching Jack to be open about his pain and fear (as much as it hurts me) are a great way writing wise to force the boys to look at why the way they conduct themselves doesn’t work. And conversely, Jack’s unconditional love of his family helps them hate themselves less and value themselves a little more. I could go on about what each individual character gives and gets from their relationship with Jack, but we’d be here all day and I’m still salty about Dean.

Long story short

Castiel: Gets to be a nurturer and teacher he wants to be, gets someone precious that he is not willing to give up for the Winchesters (which I see as important for making that relationship itself healthier). As well as Cas’s WIN because the angel needs one of his big decisions to go right. Plus he gets to be a dad, which is probably part of humanity he probably never imagined he would get to experience.

Sam: Has someone who is going through similar “am I evil?” questions he did when he was a kid and young adult that he can reassure and help “save” which is probably therapeutic. He gets to experience being a caretaker the way his brother did, and gets to have a “kid” the way he probably thought he couldn’t with his life.

Dean: I’m very disappointed in him, but he’s given Jack a few good memories too.

All of TFW1.0: Have someone who they love and who loves them and that they can “pour” what they have to teach into.

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One really random note. Some people get really mad about when Jack said “If Dean dies then he dies,” at the beginning of season 14. But I think people are perhaps really overthinking Jack’s thought process? Like most of Jack’s plans because he’s so young (especially when he was only like a year old) are fairly simplistic.

What did Jack know about Dean then?

1. He’s family.

2. He told Jack if he goes bad he dies.

A lot of people forget Dean was only really on board with Jack after 13x06. And in that period of time between 13x06 and 14x01 Dean was probably around Jack like a week? He ran away like a day and a half after Cas got back, then was around Sam and Dean less than a day before getting trapped in the AU, then was around Sam and Dean a few days in the AU and a few more days after the AU before the Lucifer Michael shenanigians.

So… Jack not understanding Dean didn’t want him dead anymore and thinking. “Family kills the bad thing even if it’s family this is what Dean would want me to do,” (sadly) makes a lot more sense than “I don’t care about Dean dying…"

#cringew0rm #SPN #Supernatural #Jack Kline #Sam Winchester #Castiel #Dean Winchester #thoughts #sorry this took so long #meta

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alj4890 · 4 years

Text

New Year's Eve

A Choices Fan Fiction of The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match.

A/N For my bff @krsnlove and for all her encouragement over the past year. Don’t know what I would do without the gifs and laughter. Here’s the pairs she loves, meeting up for a special New Year’s Eve.

Song: What Are You Doing New Year's Eve

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopefulmoonobject @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352. @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @pixieferry @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker.

Masterlist

Part 1 The Invitation

Cordonia, The Royal Palace...

"New York?" Maxwell breathed the words. "We are spending New Year's Eve in New York?!"

Olivia's lips curved in disgust. "Another masquerade ball. Can anyone think of something less original for the usual crowd of nobles?"

Liam flipped the invitation over. "It might be enjoyable. Hakim and Joelle have friends and connections all over the world. They will likely attend."

"More snobs." Drake muttered. "Happy New Year to me."

"Joelle knows a lot of people involved with the fine arts." Amanda pointed out to him.

"So either rich snobs or cultural snobs? Great." He grumbled.

"You are all missing a huge point here." Maxwell announced. "We are going to enter the new year kissing someone in New York! This is a game changer. I can feel it."

"Game changer?" Amanda asked. "What do you mean?"

"We," Maxwell lowered his tone to sound more mysterious. "Are going to kiss the one."

"The one?" Olivia snorted. "We're all going to kiss the same person? I think I'll pass."

"No!" His blue eyes narrowed at the smirk she shared with Drake. "We each will find the one right for ourselves!" He held the gilded invitation closer to the light. "Can't you guys feel it?"

Drake leaned back in his chair. "The only thing I feel is a long flight ahead of us to a crowded city that will be even more packed on that night."

"It says our hotel rooms have been reserved." Amanda added. "The ball is being held in the same hotel, so at least we won't have to try and get somewhere."

Olivia groaned while standing up. "Guess we need to go pick a gown."

Amanda sighed in resignation. "I think I might find a black gown. Reflect the color of my mood as I spend yet another New Year's not sharing a kiss with anyone special."

"You can moan and groan all you want, but you'll see. Everything is going to change for us." Maxwell predicted.

_________________

"Please." Nadia drew the word out in a slight whine. "Kai is going to be stuck at work. Please go with me so I'll know someone there."

Damien ran a hand over his heavily stubbled chin. "Nadia, I hate these type of--" he glanced at her as she gave him the sad puppy eyes. "Nice try. Can't we just stay in?"

"I've been invited to a party by a duke and duchess. A duke and duchess! Two people who are patrons of the arts! I have to go. This is a huge opportunity and honor for me." She folded her arms and lifted one eyebrow. "I had no idea you were so timid about being around rich and cultured people. If you feel you can't keep up with them intelligently..."

His eyes cut to her while a slight smirk formed. "Well I'll be damned. You honestly think I will fall for that technique?"

She huffed and got up. "Fine. I thought my best friend would be willingly to go with me and keep me from breaking down and calling Steve. But I guess I will just spend it here, in my apartment, thinking of ways to get my ex back. Probably drunk dial him after drinking a bottle of champagne by myself. Alone. In the--"

"I'll go!" He shouted. "Just stop the guilt. You're too good at it."

"Yay!" She hugged him tight. "Be sure and bring a mask with your tux."

"I take back all the times I said Kai was right for calling you a precious cinnamon roll." Damien muttered. "She has no clue how evil you truly are."

________________

Hollywood, California...

"This came for you." Holly dropped the gold envelope on Thomas's desk.

He set aside the screenplay he was reading and reached for it. "Thanks. Would you bring--" he paused when he saw who the invitation was from. "Damn."

"What is it?" Holly craned her neck to read the invitation. "Oooh, New Year's Eve in New York. Want me to book your flight?"

He groaned. "Yes. There is no way Joelle will let me out of this. Not after I missed the previous party."

"Who are you going to take along as your plus one?" She asked.

"No one." Thomas firmly replied. "I have neither the time nor the inclination for romance."

"You never do." Holly muttered. She pulled up some possible flights.

"I'll leave on the twenty-ninth." Thomas decided. "It will give me time to prepare myself for whatever Joelle has in store for her unsuspecting guests."

Holly nodded. "Sounds like--" she pulled her phone out when it vibrated multiple times. "We are coming with you. The duke and duchess invited Matt, Ryan, amd Jessica along too. Addison, Seth, and I have been added as plus ones." She smiled at his groan. "Sure you don't want a plus one too?"

"Positive." He replied. "I can escape easier alone."

________________

Shanghai, China...

"I won't make it until after New Year's. Mr Lee not only negotiated the entire deal, he then somehow managed to make me agree into taking his daughter to Hakim's party." Rashad explained to his business partner.

William chuckled. "I'm so happy right now that I have the flu. He probably would have talked me into escorting another daughter."

"I've never met her but I can predict that other than seeing some of my friends that this will be one miserable New Year's Eve. And to answer the question you're about to ask, I will not try and receive a kiss." He shuddered. "If she is anything like her father, I will have to run and hide at 11:59."

_______________

December 29th, The Four Seasons, New York...

Liam stared out of his penthouse's window. The lights of New York were beginning to become brighter as night fell. His thoughts were centered on Maxwell's prediction. He hoped it came true for his friends. He knew it couldn't for himself.

The last six months had been some of the hardest he had ever faced. His father's death from a massive heart attack had been followed by his brother's decision to abdicate the throne. Liam had become king before he had a chance to comprehend all the changes.

He was grateful for Olivia discovering a loophole in his ascension. He didn't have to settle for an arranged marriage. He was able to accept the crown with an engagement. He and Amanda pretended for a few weeks before ending the sham. All was done with little trouble.

But now...he couldn't simply meet a woman, ask her out, have romance of any sort. He had to be cautious and choose the one that would be the best queen. That's all there was to it. No matter how much he wished differently. This was his life.

______________

Downstairs in one of the bars of The Four Seasons, New York...

"I can't believe you managed to swing us getting hired as holiday help for the third year in a row." Daniel teased.

Riley laughed as she picked her tray up with the requested drinks. "Third time is the charm. We get to help out with some kind of pretty big party on New Year's Eve. Rob promised us all bonuses that will make us weep with joy for working that night."

"I've never been so excited to be single before." Daniel replied. "Hello trip to the Bahamas."

Riley laughed while taking the drinks to the different tables.

________________

Rockefeller Center...

"Beautiful." Amanda breathed.

"I'm freezing." Maxwell muttered, pulling his coat closed.

"Please." Olivia rolled her eyes. "It's barely brisk."

"It's a tree. You decorate like a hundred of these every year." Drake complained. "Why did we have to come out in the cold to see this?"

"You didn't." Amanda reminded him. "I told all of you to go on to dinner and I would meet you there. I was not about to come to New York during the holidays and miss this."

Maxwell checked his phone. "Liam is on his way to The Palm Tribeca. We should head on over."

"Wait! We need a picture of us here." She looked around and spotted a man off by himself, looking at the tree.

"Pardon me?" Amanda gently touched his arm.

He glared down at her. "What do you want me to sign?"

She blinked in surprise. "I was going to ask if you would take a picture--"

He snatched her phone out of her hand. He held it up and took a selfie with her. "There. Now if you will excuse me."

Amanda stared at him in shock. "I'm afraid you misunderstand. I wondered if you would mind taking a picture of me and my friends in front of the tree."

The man's cheeks flushed. She wasn't sure if it was cold, embarrassment, or irritation. Possibly all three.

He followed her over to the group and took the photo. "Here." He muttered, handing her phone back to her.

She looked at it and beamed. "It's perfect. You managed to frame us with--"

"Amanda! Hurry up!" Drake yelled out. "We will leave without you!"

"Coming!" She smiled once more at the man. "Thank you again and Happy New Year."

His frown eased. "Same to you." Thomas watched as she ran toward the man that was waving impatiently.

_______________

The Palm Tribeca...

"I know this is just so I won't back out of the ball," Damien took a bite of his steak, "but you have reverted back to precious cinnamon roll status."

Nadia grinned at him. "I never doubted I could." She looked up when another group entered. Her eyes locked on what had to be the most extraordinary set of blue eyes she had ever seen.

Damien looked over at what had caught her attention. "I'm starting to think that whole drunk dialing Steve thing was an empty threat."

"Huh?" Nadia noticed his dimples form right before he winked at her.

"Should I go over there and tell him you like him?" Damien teased.

"What? No!" She dropped her eyes and picked up her wine glass. "I was merely admiring, artistically mind you, the color of his eyes."

"They're blue." He taunted.

"They are not simply blue! They are..." She looked over at the man's table and quickly looked away when he caught her staring. "They are multiple shades of blue to create a color rarely seen."

Damien glanced over at him. "No, they're a basic blue."

"You're hopeless." She mumbled. "I suppose the work Michelangelo did on The Sistine Chapel's ceiling was basic redecorating."

"Well," Damien gestured with his wine glass. "You're not wrong."

"You--" Nadia narrowed her eyes at him. "You are trying to get a rise out of me."

"And succeeding." He teased. He motioned toward the other man. "Go talk to him."

"What? Just walk over there, interrupt his time with those people? He could be dating one of them! Or married! Have three beautiful children with those gorgeous eyes and dimples." Nadia sighed while slumping in her chair. "I am destined to be a tortured artist."

"You make more money off one painting than most do in a year." Damien rolled his eyes. "Nowhere near tortured status."

"Tortured in love!" She snapped then covered her mouth when conversations paused around them.

Damien chuckled. "I think you're tortured right now. Should I ask if there is any paper and pencils you can borrow? Maybe some crayons they keep on hand for children?"

Nadia covered her steadily growing red face. "That's it. No more special dinners for you. Ever."

"I doubt that. You love the cinnamon sugar doughnut holes here too much to not drag me along." Damien eased off the teasing. "Nadia, you know you're cute as can be. He keeps looking over here, just walk by and say hi."

She shook her head. "I can't. But I will have those doughnuts. Possibly three orders of them."

Damien reached over and squeezed her hand. "Whatever you need."

________________

In another corner of The Palm Tribeca....

"What are you going to order?" Addison asked.

Thomas diverted his steady gaze from the woman who's picture he took. "Er, my usual."

Ryan leaned over to see what he kept looking at. "That doesn't look like your usual."

Addison turned around in her chair to look at what they were talking about. "Not another red head. Wasn't Marianne enough to steer you away from fiery tempered people?"

"Not her, I was looking at--" he stopped right before he revealed what held his attention.

Holly practically climbed in Ryan's lap to be able to see. "Is it the brunette?"

"Forget her!" Addison softly squealed. "It's him! Oh my-- how do I look?" She asked Matt.

"Beautiful, but who is the man you suddenly want to impress?" Matt asked, not even attempting to hide his jealousy.

"It's the new King of Cordonia. You know! Liam." She sighed on his name. "Ugh. Pictures rarely do him justice. AAAHHHH!" She covered her mouth. "Do you think he's here for the same party?!"

Thomas nodded. "Hakim and Joelle are close to the Royal family. I--"

"I'm going to meet him!" She squealed.

Matt met her eyes and waited.

"You know I love you." She hugged him. "I'm just fangirling."

"Why don't my fangirls act like that?" Seth asked.

"Because you have to have fangirls first." Holly remarked.

"Good point." Seth winked at Jessica. "Iowa, when we get back home, remind me to add squealing fangirls to my list of goals."

She laughed and took his hand. "It can be your New Year's resolution."

"You're brilliant." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I knew I loved you for more than your looks."

"Liam's highly intelligent." Addison added. "He isn't just make you want to weep handsome."

"What kind of handsome am I?" Ryan asked.

"The usual kind." Holly told him. "I've yet to tear up over looking at you."

"Not even choke you up handsome?" He countered.

"There was that one time I watched a movie you were in and choked on popcorn." She kissed his cheek. "Does that count?"

"Definitely. I can live with being choke you up handsome." He wrapped his arm around her.

Matt tugged on Addison. "Stop staring and pretend you remember who I am."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I gave you my heart." She glanced again at Liam. "A few seconds doesn't change that."

"Guys we are missing the main point." Jessica interrupted. "Hunt has found someone he not only likes but has kept him from saying how ridiculous our conversation is."

They all turned their attention on Thomas. When he noticed how quiet it was he stopped looking at the woman sitting beside Liam.

"What?" He asked. "I'm ordering the lobster."

"Holy--" Ryan smacked his back in camaraderie. "It finally happened."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas felt a trickle of unease settle over him.

"You finally found someone who renders you speechless." Ryan told him.

"And deaf." Holly added.

"That's preposterous." He waved to a waiter and ordered an old fashioned. "I've done nothing of the--" he looked up when she rose from her chair and went towards the back.

"The word you're looking for is sort." Jessica teased.

"Nope, it's love." Seth corrected.

_______________

Towards the back of The Palm Tribeca...

Rashad tried to keep from staring at the young woman sitting across from him. The moment he had met Hana, he had been tongue tied and in a highly grateful frame of mind.

"Do you come to New York often, your grace?" She asked.

"Rashad, please." He corrected again. "And yes, I do."

"Is it still as exciting each time you visit?" She asked. "This is my first time and I am still in awe of it."

He smiled at her. "I guess since I usually come for business purposes that I haven't had a chance to really enjoy it."

His smile brought her own out, nearly blinding him with her beauty.

"Rashad!" Amanda greeted. "We thought we saw you." She smiled warmly at him and then Hana. "Forgive me for interrupting. But we were wondering if you wished to join us." Her eyes fell on their half eaten plates. "But since you are settled, I should leave you to it."

Rashad stood and introduced her to Hana. "She will be at the ball with me."

Amanda's eyes lit with interest. "That's wonderful. I look forward to talking more to you then, Lady Hana." She patted Rashad's shoulder. "Enjoy your evening."

"We will." He said with another smile at Hana.

_____________

"Well? Was your mission successful?" Olivia asked.

"Her name is Hana Lee. Rashad has completed a business deal with her father and she is now his date for the ball." Amanda explained.

"Forced to take her or happy to?" Maxwell asked.

"I'm not certain on the forced part but he definitely looked happy." Amanda replied with a grin.

"I told you!" Maxwell exclaimed. "Big things are happening here."

"For Rashad maybe," Drake argued. "The rest of us, not so much."

Maxwell looked over at woman he had winked at earlier. She didn't seem to be on a date with that man. Or was she? "It's going to happen." He told them. "Just you wait."

_______________

Outside The Four Seasons...

“I think I might go for a walk.” Olivia told them. “I will see you all in the morning.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Amanda asked.

“No. Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll be fine.” She assured.

A couple of blocks from the hotel, her arm was grabbed.

“What took you so long?” She asked.

“Maxwell had to reassure me that I would find the one this New Year’s.” Drake muttered. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “He doesn’t realize that I already did that quite some time ago.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “This sneaking around in the dark is getting old.”

Drake looked at her. “I thought you wanted to wait to announce our relationship once we were certain of our feelings.”

“I still feel that way.” She told him. Her red lips firmed in determination. “That’s why I am willing to be your date for the party.”

He stopped them both. “You are?”

HIs deep voice combined with that heated look in her eyes made her lips curve into a smile. “I am.”

He pulled her close for a kiss. “So am I.”

_______________

The Four Seasons, at a dark bar...

“You should have come along with us.” Amanda said, scrolling through her pictures with Liam.

“I had to finish reviewing that trade agreement.” He explained. His smile formed at the picture of his friends in front of the tree. “So you not only saw it but talked the others into it.”

She laughed and nodded. “They didn’t even realize they were talked into it.”

He moved to the next picture. “You didn’t tell me you met Thomas Hunt.”

Her smile fell. “What? I have never met him.” She looked down at the selfie that the man she---”Oh no! No wonder he asked me if I wanted an autograph when I approached him.” She dropped her head on the table. “He must have thought I was an idiot.”

Liam chuckled. “I doubt that. After being in the public eye, he probably enjoyed the anonymity.”

Amanda shook her head. “I can’t believe the opportunity to meet him happened and I wasn’t even aware of it.” She stood up and waved him back down. “Enjoy your drink. I’m going to go bury my head under my pillows and relive all my mistakes in that moment.” She wished him a good night and left.

A new waitress approached his table and smiled. “Can I get you anything? Liz had to leave and I will be handling her tables.”

Liam shook his head. “Thank you though.”

She tilted her head and studied him. “I don't mean to pry, but are you okay?”

He looked up at her and paused. “I--I am. I have nothing to complain about.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have a right to be sad.” She told him.

“Well, Ms.--”

“Riley.” She said with a warm smile.

He tried to gather his thoughts. “I suppose the new year approaching has brought me down.”

She glanced at Daniel and motioned for him to keep watch on her tables before sitting down across from Liam. “In what way?”

He rolled his glass between his hands. “The usual I suppose. Fear of making the wrong decisions. Wishing you could be reckless for a moment.” He looked up at her. “Wish you didn’t feel so alone.”

Her brow furrowed and she reached over and placed her hand on his. “Everyone feels that from time to time. And right now, you aren’t alone.” She gently squeezed his hand. “I’m here.”

His blue eyes seemed to burn with intensity as he met her steady gaze. “Yes, you are.”

#new year's eve prompt #choices the royal romance #choices red carpet diaries #choices perfect match

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supernatural-rewatch-3 · 4 years

Text

Goodbye Stranger

So honestly I had to stop watching Supernatural for a few days because I knew this episode and Taxi Driver were coming up. There are a handful of episodes that are so hard for me to watch because of character deaths, and this is one of them. Abandon All Hope, Goodbye Stranger, and Taxi Driver are the first that come to mind of a permanent character death that left me in tears (there are a few more coming up of course, but yeah).

Meg was a character I hated at first while also respecting her style. Over the years she grew on me and I loved her. I was really happy when her and Cas started something because they were so precious. Then she was kidnapped by Crowley at the end of the last season and we heard nothing about her since. Honestly I would have been okay with not hearing anything if it meant she was still alive. Although with Jack in the empty and him, The Shadow, and Death working together I have hope characters like her, Crowley, Gadreel, Balthazar, and a handful of others may make a come back for the end.

Meg was an interesting character because she never really was redeemed so to speak but she was...improved? Like she’s not a good ‘person’ but she isn’t bad either. Like she says she’s kinda good. Mostly due to her interactions with Sam, Dean, and most importantly Cas. At first it was just about survival, and she became loyal to them because it was the only way. However she met Cas, someone who made her want to chance for the good and he clearly cared about her. He begged Naomi to spare her, asked Sam to protect her, an it’s clear she meant a lot to him. She refers to Cas as her unicorn, a very special being she never thought existed before, kind of like Amelia would have been to Sam.

Something that makes me upset in this episode is Sam and Dean. Sam is genuinely upset that Dean prayed to Cas. Again, this goes back to my main argument against Sam in season eight. I love Sam, I really do, but in season eight he does some things I am not okay with, and one of those is how he acts about Dean and his friends. I have said it a few times now, that Sam has made it clear the moment that the trials are done, he’s done. He is leaving hunting and that Dean needs to start figuring out what to do without him. Now that subject has sort of been dropped since they found the bunker, and Dean seems to have a small hope that Sam will probably stay in the bunker after all this is over, to become a Man of Letters while Dean still does the grunt work. However Sam brings up again in this episode that he realized a normal life can happen and that is what he wants. However if Sam gets out of hunting, he already knows Dean will continue to do so and he’s actually offended that Dean has Benny and Cas to reach out to. Honestly if Sam really wanted to get out and realized Dean would still be hunting, you would think he’d be happy that Dean would have someone to rely on like Benny and Cas. Instead he takes it as a personal insult?

And then there is Dean and Cas. Cas wants so hard to be a good friend, to make things right after everything he did. That was part of why he didn’t fight too much from Naomi jerking him around. After all he was serving Heaven, the place he decimated, and he’s just trying to do some good, but Naomi...she is messed up. Forcing Cas to kill clone after clone of Dean until he could do it quickly and brutally without any mercy. What the hell?! She is someone who is the definition of both putting the ‘greater good’ before people and the whole ‘the end justifies the mean’s morality. After all the tablet cannot fall into others hands. If the gates of Heaven are sealed, souls can’t pass into Heaven. So many beings would be lost and in pain in the veil. The angles would lose their powers and then Heaven could collapse, releasing millions of disembodied souls onto the surface of the earth. It would cause millions of ‘pure’ souls so much pain that the earth would be overrun with spirits turning vengeful, with no place to pass onto. She is willing to do whatever it takes to keep that from happening, even manipulating an angle like Castiel to try and make him kill two people that mean the most to him in the world, Meg and Dean.

Cas manages to make an argument for Meg, but it is only going to work until they get the tablet, then Naomi is probably going to try and have him kill Meg to protect the secret of the tablet. Also she feels Dean has to die because he knows about the tablet and Dean isn’t trusting them enough to hand it over. She orders Cas to kill Dean and Cas fights against it the whole time. Interestingly enough, Dean only defends at first. He realizes something isn’t right. Dean’s first instinct is to defend and try and find out what is wrong. Then he tried fleeing and only after that didn't’ work did he try to fight Cas, which resulted in a broken arm and a battered face. Cas touches the angle tablet through, braking the connection between him and Naomi. However Cas is partially influenced by his ‘hard wiring’ to protect the tablet from everyone and everything. That means angles, demons, and humans. That includes Dean, and that hurts him a lot.

One of the small things we do learn about, something that many of us already thought to be true, was that Sam and Dean each keep they’re own journals. At least we get that impression after Sam tells Dean to write down some things in his and Dean doesn’t refute the statement. I had suspected Dean kept a journal of his own since the start. Dean has far too good of a memory for when random cases where not to have a journal that he reviews on a regular basis, like they’re dad’s.

Another is apparently Cas and Meg are not the first Demon an Angle couple. Apparently Crowley and Naomi has a fling once. I can see that, the sadistic bastards (I actually love Crowley a lot, but it is true).

#spn 8x17 #goodbye stranger #meg #castiel #crowley #naomi #sam winchester #dean winchester

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fa-nfiction · 5 years

Text

Thunder #40

I woke up from the touch of his hands. Slowly, lovingly, he dragged his fingers from my knee and upwards, across my thigh, lingered on the skin of my waist and stroked downwards once again. I pretended to still be asleep so he wouldn’t stop.

He was laying behind me, naked and warm beneath our covers, and it was quite a feat to stay put and keep still. Even more so as he kissed the corner between my shoulder and my ear. It felt like I could just melt away into his touch.

“Ca-aaas. I can hear your breathing.” He chuckled lowly into my ear. Damn. Busted.

“So? Everybody breathes.” I retorted, teasingly. I felt hoarse and drowsy, but blissful.

“You breathe in that way when you don’t want me to think that you’re awake.”

“Bollocks. I don’t.”

“Bollocks. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. ONE day in London and you’re a real proper Brit.” He snickered.

“Hey!” I wanted to nudge him in the stomach, but he was too quick. He grabbed my arm and laid on top of me before I could do anything.

“Hey what.” The weight of his body was pinning me down, and I apparently had to endure the smugness of his face through all of this teasing.

“You’re an ass.”

“Ooh, naughty words. I had no idea such a proper lady could speak like that. Tell me … how did someone this posh end up in a pub like this?”

“I have no idea, to be honest. I was lured in by something.”

“Mmm-hmm. Like what?”

“I don’t know.” I managed to wriggle a bit free from him so I could wrap my legs around him. I heard his breathing hitch as our bodies touched.

“I think it’s me that was lured in, honestly.” He grinded against me, and I had to close my eyes with the sensation.

He did the movement again and I wanted nothing more than him inside of me. Even more so as he began to kiss me. His kisses were deep and long and left me desperate for more.

“Wait …” I bit my lip as I could feel him a bit too close. “Rain coat.”

“Right. Sorry.” He smiled apologetically at me and pulled away. “Old habit.”

“It’s alright.” I had fallen out of breath. “It’s just that the two of us are a bit too … “

“Too what?” He looked at me, curiosity written on his face.

“Too good at getting me pregnant.”

I could see his face going from confused to curious until finally, shocked.

“You’re not serious.” He sat up and sat on the bedside. “The … pregnancy?”

I nodded. The atmosphere in the room had changed into something a lot more solemn.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Cas?” He looked at me in complete disbelief.

I shrugged and tried to not think too much about it.

“I figured that … I don’t know, maybe you’d put two and two together.”

“How could I do that? I thought it was … somebody else.”

“Who would that be?” I sat up on my arms, frowning at him.

“Don’t take it like that, Cas. We were just together that one night, and you …”

“I what?”

“You met a lot of guys back there, right? I saw you at the pub.” He paused and looked sad for a second. “You made sure I saw.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. And I didn’t fuck them.”

“But … why didn’t you say anything? I sat with you every night. We watched Miami Vice, you slept and I was right there. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I sighed and fell back into the pillows.

“I wanted to … I really did. But it felt like I had deserved all of that. It was me that had to go through it. I was just … happy that you were there. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Scare me off? Scare me OFF, Cas?”

“I know.” I felt my eyes beginning to tear up. “It was just … so fragile. I had kicked you out and I didn’t feel like I deserved you being there. I felt so … terrible.”

I could see his jaw clenching as he thought about those nights. The atmosphere between us had been so heavy and dreadful, unlike anything we’d ever tried before. I would cry in the daytime and watch Miami Vice at night, looking at the back of his head and wondering if he’d ever talk to me or touch me again.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.” He said. “That’s why I wrote to Nathan. If he had a job for me, here.”

“And he did.”

“He did.”

I couldn’t decipher what was on his mind. Maybe he was sad, maybe he was relieved. No matter what he felt, he didn’t let me in on it. As always.

“I’m going to get burgers for us. Alright?” He asked, his back turned towards me. I understood.

( … )

The short walk from here, to the pizza place and back, had helped. He seemed to be feeling a lot better as he returned.

Not that he said much, but it sufficed. And like this, we ate our burgers and french fries, until a text on my phone ripped through the silence.

“Teddy’s running a fever. Going to the doctor’s with him. Call me when you have the time. Xx - Mum”

From there, everything happened in a blur. I dropped everything I had, got dressed and began to panic, before my rational mind had even reminded me to call my mother and ask her for the details. She didn’t say much, as she was on her way to the doctor. Michael was quickly filled in, and he seemingly panicked just as much as I did. It was with hands shaking that I made the call to the airport to change my flight to an earlier one. Michael jump-ran to the car and tried desperately to get the ice off of it, so we could get going. Had the lock not opened in that very second that it did, I’m sure he would have found an axe and simply chopped off the door. There was nothing calm or collected about us, but somehow, we seemed to accomplish it all in time. Whenever one of us was panicking too much, the other would comfort, if even for a few seconds.

“What did she say? Should I go with you? I can’t go with this one, but I can take a later flight -” He was rambling on, every once in a while running a hand through his hair, as if that would somehow help him to find a solution.

“She said it was nothing bad, that it’s just a fever, so … I don’t KNOW, honestly.”

He took a few deep breaths and seemingly calmed down. There was a long queue for the check-in, and now, it had become my turn to worry. What if I don’t make the flight? My baby needs me … oh god, my baby needs me. MOVE, PEOPLE.

“Easy, darl’. You’ll make it. Don’t worry.” He said, as he rubbed my shoulders. Apparently, it had been easy to read my mind.

“I just want these people to move, damn it.”

“You’ll make it.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it hard.

“I’m going to miss you, Michael.”

“Likewise.” He bent down and kissed me on the forehead. “Next time, I’ll be coming over to you.”

“How long will we be doing that? Going back and forth?”

“Until you move over here, Cas.”

“What if I can’t?”

“It’s easy. You can.”

“Uuuugh. You’re so annoying.”

“I know. But you love it.” He leaned down and kissed me. It was soft and warm and, most importantly, made me want more. I longed for long mornings, with he and I and Teddy, sleeping in and going for English breakfast somewhere. I didn’t know if that would ever happen.

“Your turn.” He broke the kiss and pointed to the clerk at the desk. It was time.

( … )

Of course, just like my rational mind already knew, Teddy was absolutely fine. Probably just a cold, the doctor had told my mother, and as they’d made their way home he already felt better. As I’d almost kicked her door in to see my boy, hugged him for the longest time and cried a little, my rationality began to set in and I felt like a fool. Of course, I called Michael and reassured him, my mom chuckling at our nervousness in the background.

...

“Really, there was no point in going home earlier. I could have handled him fine, even if he had been worse. Not the first time I’m taking care of a baby, you know.” My mom teased me, as we sat in front of the T.V. in the evening time.

“Ugh. I knoooow, Mom. I just got so worried.”

“And you lost precious time with that guy of yours.”

“He’s not … my … guy. Do people even say things like that, mom?”

“But you want him to be. And the other way around, too.”

“Don’t say things like that, Mom. It’s not that simple.”

“It is, Cas. It really is.”

“I can’t have that … long distance thing going on. And with all the things we’d been through, I’m just not … I’m not really sure of anything.” I felt a sting in my heart as I lied to my mother. I knew exactly what I wanted. Michael’s arms, around me, in London, raising our boy and being together forever.

“I think you should move over to him, darling.”

“Give me a break. It’s not that simple. What about you and Mr. Secret? I don’t see you and him running off into the sunset, either.”

She smiled as she looked down. She always looked so serene and universally happy when we talked about her boyfriend.

“He’s working a lot. He’s running a company, of sorts. But it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”

“Well? What’s holding you back?”

“Things. I don’t know. All of our goddamn kids, maybe.” She said and I immediately burst into laughter along with her.

“No, it’s not that.” She said as we’d both recovered from the laughing. “He lives a bit far away, too. We want to make sure that this is going to work.”

“You see? Things are NOT that simple, mom. And with Michael, I’m just not … I can’t take that leap and just trust him forever. I can’t.”

“He did those things because he loved you, Cas.”

“That was a really weird way of showing it.”

“He’s a complicated guy.” She spoke softly as she looked at me. Something clicked inside of my mind, and I realized I had a question for her.

“You’ve never told me how you two met.”

“Oh, honey. That’s a long and dull story.”

“I have all the time in the world. C’mon, spill.”

“Uuuuugh.” She sighed and began to rub her forehead. Her telltale sign of “I reeeeally don’t want to do this.” Naturally, it only served to pique my curiosity.

“You’re going to hate me for this, Cassie.”

I was now beginning to become desperate for the information. What? What is it?

“I honestly believe that it’s not a scenario that hasn’t already played in my head, Mom. What is it?”

“Uuuugh, Cassie.”

“What? Is it that bad? Did you sleep with him or what?” I tried to not shudder at the thought, but the scenario wasn’t completely unrealistic. Michael being Michael and all. My mom having left a loveless marriage. It was clearly an option.

“What? God, no. Oh my God. That was NOT what happened.”

“Then what? And he’s not that hideous, Mom.” A small part of me was secretly relieved.

“Oh, Cas … how should I put this, honestly.” She rubbed the palms of her hands against her temples. “Well, I’ll just say it as it is. I contacted him, some time ago.”

“You … what? Why? How?” I looked at her, bewildered.

“You’ll have to understand, I did everything out of love, Cassie. I had never thought things would become so … complicated. With you falling pregnant again, and all that. I’m so, so sorry.” Her eyes were large and apologetic, the small lines around them making her look worried.

“When? I’m completely lost here, Mom.”

“It was … Teddy was around 5 months old. It was before that night when he was so fussy due to his shots.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sure you remember this better than me, darling, but you weren’t really well back then. Richard had just left, and you were struggling a lot.”

The sound of his name always felt like someone was ripping my heart out. A small glimpse of him, writing his farewell letter, played in my head like a bad movie.

“That’s true.”

“I wanted to help so much, Cassie. I really did. But with the divorce from your Dad and all … I couldn’t be there as much as I wanted to. I’m so, so sorry.”

I couldn’t believe my own ears. In an attempt to help me, she had … reached out to him?

“And I won’t ever forgive myself for letting you down that day. I am so sorry. I’ve yelled so much at myself for not helping you that day.”

“That … day?”

“The day with the breakdown in the supermarket. I’m absolutely heartbroken, Cassie. It should have been me that helped you. Not him.”

I felt my brows furrowing at the thought of past events.

“He told you about that?”

“Of course he did, honey.”

“I’m … I can’t believe it.”

“I had no idea you were so -“ She was struggling to find the right words.

“... far out.”

“I really didn’t.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay now.”

A strange silence fell upon us, my Mom looking down on her hands and me, trying to find out what we were even watching on the T.V.

“So, you don’t hate me? For having contacted him?”

“What? No, Mom. Oh my God.”

“Even with the … “

“Even with everything.” I smiled at her and took her hand in mine.

“I still think you should go to him. Go and live there. You’ll find an apartment and Teddy will go to daycare, and things will work out.”

I sighed. “I can’t. I can’t leave all … this.”

“He loves you, you know. And I know you love him.”

I looked at her, defeated and tired. She smiled back at me like only a mother could.

( … )

“Are you actually right outside?” I asked the face on my phone screen, as I struggled to get a new nappy attached to Teddy. My Mom’s kitchen was way too small for this kind of work, and it took a lot of skillful planning to change a baby all the while not dropping any of the required items on the floor, and like that I had simply put the phone on a shelf so I could finish up.

“I am.” He smiled back and exhaled a puff from his cigarette. The sun was illuminating his face, and I couldn’t remember when he had looked this happy. I couldn’t wait to go outside and throw my arms around him.

“I have the weirdest surprise for you, Cas.” He half-chuckled into the phone. “You’re never gonna believe it.”

“What? Aaaaand there we go, Teddy. Look! There’s Daddy!” I took the boy on my arm and took the phone so the two of them could see each other. Teddy giggled happily at the sight of his dad, and Michael’s face turned into an even happier one.

I went out the kitchen and through the hallway to fetch the door to let Michael in.

“Moooom! He’s here.”

“Okaaa-ay!” I heard a muffled reply from the upstairs bathroom.

I opened the door and Michael was there, hugging and kissing both Teddy and me. I felt tears of joy running down my cheeks and promised myself that I would never be apart from him for this long again.

“What was the surprise?” I asked as I handed Teddy over to Michael. Teddy immediately began to pull at Michael’s beard.

Michael simply smiled at me as he took a step to the side, revealing the broad, large man behind him. I hadn’t seen him in ages, and I was beyond surprised.

“Nathan! Oh my God! What are you doing here??” I exclaimed as I pulled him in for a big hug. As we stood there, I heard my mom clearing her throat behind us. She had finished up and had come down the stairs to greet our guests.

“There’s … there’s something I wanted to tell you for some time now, Cassie.” I let go of Nathan, and in the next second, my mom ran into his arms.

My hands flew to my mouth as the surprise set in.

#thunder 40 #the thunder series #thunder series #michael fassbender fanfiction #michael fassbender fan fiction #Thunderstorm

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vinylackles · 5 years

Text

chapter two: the calling

a story about an angel, a hunter, a choice, love, a kitten named bumble, and will

masterlist of chapters || ao3 link

To say he was shocked was an understatement. The last he had heard about God’s whereabouts he was off in a far galaxy, experimenting new creations with Amara. And now here he was. In front of him in the woods in Nebraska, with a tiny kitten in his hands.

“Hello Castiel. It’s been a long time. I see that you found my friend.” He looked down at the kitten, who had very casually curled up in a tiny ball and was lulling itself to sleep with a few purrs in his palm. If Cas’ thoughts hadn’t been otherwise engaged, he probably would have smiled at how precious it was.

“You’re back,” is what he said instead.

“Indeed. Apparently, I missed quite a lot.” His diction was more formal, and he looked less like Chuck and more like the ethereal being that Cas had spent his entire existence hearing about; a man to be feared. His hair was shorter, his beard shaved. No graphic t-shirts and converse. Something had changed on a deeper level, though Cas couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Yes. You could say that. Why are you here?”

“I needed to speak with you.”

“And you choose here?” Cas looked around, almost sure that there would be other settings that would be better suited for the meeting. Especially since it was God after all, and he could choose anywhere he liked.

“It’s private, and I needed to speak with you alone.”

“Dean is right around the corner,” Cas warned. “He’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Your lover won’t realize that you’re gone, don’t worry. If our conversation runs too long, I’ll… pause things. Our matters are much more important.”

Cas waited, a nervous knot forming in his stomach. What could God want with him? Something so important that he’d come out of hiding again just to tell him. He doubted that was a good thing.

“The natural order of this place has been… disrupted. When I created the arch angels, I never really considered the fact that they may be able to travel between different dimensions of time and reality. In all honesty, I never thought that a Nephilim as powerful as Jack would come into being, so the thought never worried my mind. But alas, as I so often seem to be, I was wrong.”

“As I’m sure you guessed, I’ve been off with my sister. And she has taught me much more than I could have hoped for. But most importantly, she has told me that I need to take responsibility for the things that I create and bring into the world. I need to make it right.”

As unnecessarily wordy as his response was, Cas understood the point that he was skirting around.

“So you know about Michael, from the apocalypse world. And you’re here to stop him.”

“Not exactly. I won’t need to take any action in that. Besides, I have a weak spot for my children, I often find it hard to kill them. I highly doubt I’m the best suited for the job.”

“The humans on this earth are your children as well. Dean is your child, and you left him here to be taken over by your power hungry, malicious, evil son. Or had no one filled you in on that little incident.” Cas couldn’t hold his tongue, although he knew that he should. He could feel the heat rising in him, filling him to the fingertips.

“Easy, Castiel. I am fully aware of everything that has happened, and I know how frustrated you must be. The way I see it, it makes you perfect for the job.” “The job?”

“I need you to stop Michael. To put an end to him.” His tone was very matter of fact, and it angered Cas to his deepest fibers.

“Right. I haven’t been trying to do that since he came over here in the first place or anything. Let me get right on that.”

To the angel’s surprise, God simply laughed. He bent down slowly, shifting the kitten that Castiel had almost forgotten about into one hand, gathering a few leaves together to make a bed of sorts before sitting the tiny creature down amongst them. He wiggled a bit at the new surface, peaked one blue eye open, and then settled back down into sleep.

“Your anger will help fuel you. When I made you, I knew that you would be protective to a fault. You will do anything to protect those you love the most, which means you will do absolutely anything to stop Michael. That is why I need you Castiel. You do not know the meaning of quitting, you never have.”

“But I’ve been trying. I’ve exhausted everything that I know how to do. How am I supposed to stop him?” Cas hated the way the words sounded. He felt like a small child, begging.

“Did I ever say that I wouldn’t offer you any help? There is someone who knows far more about Michael. He’s a… closer relative of his, I suppose. I would like you to speak to him. Meet him in the Amazon as soon as you can get away without anyone noticing. He will help you in your mission, which should remain between you and him. No need for Dean to know, for his own sake.”

“How am I supposed to get to another continent by tonight?”

“Oh, right. I forget sometimes, about the fall.”

And with a simple snap of his fingers, Castiel’s wings were restored. The feeling was euphoric, like stretching out a muscle that had been cramped for as long as he could remember. He had forgotten what it felt like, to have his feather touched by the wind, not just the cold air on the bare bones of the skeletal remains. He let them stretch to their widest range, relishing in the sensation again. It took him a moment to realize that his grace had been restored to its full capacity as well.

“I wouldn’t keep him waiting long Castiel. As soon as you can get away from Dean with no detection, you should go. I’ll be watching. Remember why you rebelled, and who you can trust. Oh, and if you don’t mind, take care of my friend for me. I think you’ll find him quite endearing, and possibly useful.”

And with another snap as simple as the first, he was gone. Cas stood there for a moment, unable to make his feet – or his wings now he supposed – move. The whole interaction had come so far from left field he wasn’t sure he even wanted to catch it. But he supposed now he didn’t have much of an option.

“Well, I guess you’re coming with me since I’m responsible for you now.” Cas sighed, reaching down into the leaves to scoop up the kitten, who meowed very quietly and rested in his hand. He carefully opened one of the pockets of his trench coat, placing the creature in it. He curled up, completely content in his cozy new home.

Like riding a bike, he tensed the right muscles and suddenly he was up in the air again, flying freely. It was glorious, so glorious that he almost forgot that he was trying to be discreet, and appearing out of thin air was the opposite of that. At the last moment, he veered to the left, landing behind the frame of the van. Good thing too, because Dean was already outside the garage, a small box in his hands.

“There you are. Where the hell did you go?” He said as soon as Cas emerged from behind the vehicle.

“I was just… walking.” The lie felt odd on his tongue. He hadn’t lied to Dean in a long, long time.

“Right… Well, you ready to go? I was thinking we should stop for lunch, I’m starvin’.”

“Sure.”

And so Cas followed Dean back to the impala, coat pocket heavy and mind heavier.

“So. These five dates. You wanna elaborate?” Dean asked. At least, that’s what Cas thought he asked, considering the words were inhibited by an un-humanely large bite of a burger.

“I would assume your thoughts would be the same as mine. You were present during them, after all,” Cas murmured.

“Well, the first one you came up with was way off base. So, I’m curious what you think the other ones are.” Dean continued eating, shoving fries in his mouth at an alarming rate while Cas began to speak.

“First one was the night you came back. The second one was that hunt in Arizona. We left Sam back in the hotel and drove all night, out into the desert. Third was our Halloween movie marathon. Fourth was the hunt in Indiana, though I didn’t enjoy that one particularly.”

“What!? That one was fun! I took you to that weird antique shop and bought you that creepy snow-globe you wanted!” Dean looked honestly offended.

“Yeah, and you almost got yourself killed the next day. If I had to decide between a Christmas decoration with small woodland creatures and mediocre snow, or avoiding my boyfriend’s death, which one do you think I’d choose? Although, if I’m so worried about your death I suppose I should make you order a salad once in a while. You’re going to get heart disease.” Cas eyed the grease on the plate that had snuck out the back of Dean’s burger.

“And I need to start burning Sam’s Men’s Digest mags before you get your paws on ‘em,” Dean grumbled. “You only said four dates. What’s the fifth?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a small meow, though it didn’t come from Cas. Unfortunately, Dean heard it, even over the bustle of the diner. Damn hunter’s senses.

“Do you see a cat in here? I swear I just heard one.” He looked around, ducking a little to peak under the nearby tables.

“No. There is most definitely not a cat in this diner,” Cas panicked. If he could sweat, he would be doing so. In all honestly, he had forgotten about the little creature in his pocket, and he wasn’t sure how Dean would react. He hadn’t really considered it, with everything else he had going on in his brain.

“Castiel.” Dean rarely used his full name. He assumed that if he’d had a middle or last name, Dean would have used those too, for emphasis. “You better not have a cat in your friggin’ lap.”

“I don’t have a cat in my lap.” Cas said proudly, much to Dean’s relief. “He’s in my pocket.”

And as if he understood, the kitten popped his head up, two bright blue eyes wide and awake, and seemingly very interested in all of the patrons in the restaurant.

“Cas! You can’t just carry kittens around in your pockets. What the hell, man!?”

“But he’s mine. And I love him.”

“Yeah, alright, I hear yah. But you coulda just told me. He probably belongs at Harry’s anyways; he has a bunch of strays out there. He gives em’ all food, they live happy lives.” Dean was eyeing the little thing, who was paying him no attention, and instead watching the sunlight glint off of the fork resting beside Dean’s plate.

“This one is my responsibility. I’ll care for him. I know you don’t particularly like cats. I also think it’ll be good for Jack to have an animal around.”

The kitten launched itself then, wiggling out of Cas’ pocket and jumping, just barely clearing the table. Its little paws slipped and skidded on its quest towards the shiny object, and Dean snatched it and held it under the table, the waitress missing the incident by just a few seconds.

“Anything else I can get you gentlemen?” She asked, popping over to their table.

“Just the check ple-OW!” Dean said, suddenly bringing his hand up to suck on his finger.

“You alright dear?” The waitress looked concerned, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them.

“Oh yeah, just peachy.”

Cas felt a tiny furry tail rub against his ankle where his pant leg had ridden up a bit. He looked down to see the kitten pawing at the pattern of bees on his socks. Cas found it immensely amusing.

“That lil son of a bitch bit me!” Dean murmured across the table as soon as the waitress was out of earshot, still cradling his finger.

“Well, you startled him. Here, let me see.”

Reluctantly, Dean held out his hand, revealing the scratch mark and one tiny wound, with a single drop of blood. Cas swiped a finger over it, healing it instantly.

“Better?”

“You didn’t need to use your grace for that, it was just a scratch.”

“I have plenty to go around.” Cas immediately regretted the words. He was never going to make it without blowing this whole operation before it had even begun.

“Yeah? Since when.”

Cas was saved from answering as the waitress came back and set the check down on the table. Dean reached for his wallet, throwing a twenty down before rising quickly from his seat. Cas discreetly reached under the table and scooped up the kitten, who seemed very sad to be moving away from the bee socks he was so intently playing with. By the time Cas made it to the car, Dean already had it started and was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“If that thing scratches up my Baby’s leather, we’re leaving him in Nebraska, you hear me?”

“His name is Bumble, and he won’t mess up your precious car.” Cas had just enough venom into his tone to let Dean know that he was going to give him this one thing, and the hunter seemed to get the message.

“Yell if you see a pet store anywhere. We’ll have to get him some food, and a box.”

“And toys. Babies need toys, for stimulus.” Dean didn’t have to ask to know that Cas had read that in one of the parenting books he’d studied before Jack had arrived. At least the knowledge was going to get some use. And even if he didn’t want to admit it, seeing his angel in the passenger seat with the tiny kitten in his hands was adorable to say the least.

Cas sat Bumble down on his lap, only to have him jump again, this time onto the dashboard. The pair watched as he looked out the windshield for a moment, then curled up on the vent, fur blowing slightly from the outpouring heat, his purrs matching up with the rattling of the Legos below him for the rest of the ride.

It was as if Christmas had come early in the bunker for both Jack and Sam. They were head over heels in love with the little fur-ball that was now running around freely as if he owned the place.

“Bumble! Bumble, come back!” Jack would call out each time the new family pet even went out of eyesight. And he seemed to already know his name, because he would come prancing back with a new toy in his mouth – Cas had essentially bought the entire aisle of fluffy mice and small balls filled with bells. Sam was subtler, but each time Cas would leave the room and come back, he had moved to follow the little guy around, occasionally picking him up to scratch his ears.

But, even with all the playing and love, when Bumble was ready to sleep, he meandered his way past Jack’s white sneakers and around Sam’s pile of files to follow Dean as he decided to head to bed.

“I thought you were going to put that car part on? And you were going to teach me how to do it.” Cas said, moving to follow him as well.

“I’m beat Cas. Bed is the only thing I’m doin’ right now… unless you have other plans.” Dean raised a suggestive eyebrow, earning an eye roll.

“We’re not having sex tonight. You said you were going to teach me about cars.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but I’ll show you tomorrow, okay? Promise. C’mon, let’s go to bed.” Dean’s eyes went soft, a mixture of sweetness and sleep. It made the pit of guilt in Cas’ stomach swell.

He was stalling. If Dean went to sleep, he’d have no excuse for staying and not following God’s instructions. He supposed no one was forcing him to partake in this, but a shot at Michael was hard to pass up. And he knew his older brother well enough to know that unless he was dead, he was still a threat to Dean.

Try as he might, Cas couldn’t think of a valid reason to keep Dean up any longer than he already had. So instead, he followed him around closely, even to the bathroom to watch him brush his teeth. He didn’t know what he was going to be told tonight, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t going to be easy, or quick. And that meant more time away from Dean, which was the last thing he ever wanted. When Dean spun around from the sink, he had a frown on his face.

Cas couldn’t help it – he leaned forward, closing the space between them for a quick kiss. It wasn’t their first, but they had only shared a few, and Cas missed just barely, catching the corner of his mouth.

“Try that again,” Dean murmured, a gentle encouragement. Cas leaned in again, kissing him a little harder, getting the angle right that time. He tasted like spearmint and it brought a smile to Cas’ lips, which lasted until Dean effectively kissed it away. Dean never missed. He’d had much more practice than Cas, the angel supposed.

“What’s gotten into you today, huh? You aren’t usually this lovey-dovey.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Cas asked.

“’Course not. I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright. Is it about me not calling you my boyfriend, back at Harry’s? Cause, I was gettin’ there, I swear. It’s just kinda new, and I’m not used to saying ‘my boyfriend’, yah kno- “ Cas cut off his ramble with another kiss. He had already forgotten that interaction entirely anyways.

“Didn’t miss that time. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Cas took his lovers hand in reassurance, pulling him gently back to their room. They climbed into bed after shedding a few layers that Cas knew he was going to have to put right back on. He didn’t care. Being close to Dean was all that mattered for the moment. He relished in the weight of him next to him on the bed, and as he began to doze off, Dean curled onto his side, right against Cas. His head rested on his chest, his hand coming up to grasp at Cas’ shirt, as if he was afraid that he would leave in while he slept. And it broke the angel’s heart to know that his fear would come true, at least tonight.

And so Cas waited until Dean was snoring soundly to move out from underneath him and don his clothes again. He picked Bumble up from where he was laying on some laundry and placed him on the end of the bed, as if the small creature could replace his presence somehow.

And then, he flew.

chapter three: weapons drawn

any feedback would make my day :’)

#this was kinda a filler chapter #but things shall REVEAL THEMSELVES MWAHAHAHA #also bumble is important but I also love him the mostest SO #hope yall like cats lmao #jad #destiel #destiel fanfiction #deancas

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