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zepskies · 2 years

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Patched Up (III)

Pairing: Castiel x Reader Summary: How Castiel thanks you for treating his wounds.

This is part of a 3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

Word Count: 780 Warnings: Fluff

Part III: Castiel

It was no small humiliation on his part. An angel, formerly of Heaven, now reduced to cradling the stinging hand of his vessel.

He was piled into the Impala with you, Sam, and Dean, but the moment they returned to the Men of Letters bunker, he tucked his hand to his chest and broke away to the kitchen.

With a mix of concern and suspicion, you watched his trench coat flutter behind him as he moved swiftly out of the common area.

You shared a look with Sam, who shrugged. Unwilling to let go of your concern, you followed Cas into the kitchen and found him standing there, inspecting his right hand. That is, until he sensed you behind him and tucked his hand into his pocket.

It was an awkward move for the angel, who never held his hands in his pockets. You raised a brow at him.

“You okay there?”

“Fine,” he said, in that flat, gravel way of his. “Why do you ask?”

You hummed and went over to him. When you touched his right wrist, he flinched the slightest bit, leaning away from you.

“Will you let me see?” you asked patiently. He looked down at you with his heavy, dark brows crunched over his eyes. But he soon relented, letting you tug his hand out of his pocket. It was red and severely bruised.

If you thought back, that fit from when an enemy angel had tried crushing his head with a pipe, but only managed to catch his hand against the ground instead. You knew why he was upset though. Cut off from Heaven as he was, and now using another angel’s grace as his own, he was maybe at half-strength. Maybe even less.

“Okay. Come ‘ere,” you said, leading him to the sink. You put it on its coldest setting and ran his hand under the water. Cas closed his eyes with a flinch, but eventually he got used to it. You bade him to stay there while you riled through the kitchen for some ice, a plastic bag, and a paper towel.

It was amazing you found anything in this disorganized frat house, but you made your makeshift icepack and took his hand from the water, turning off the sink. You pressed the ice gently on his hand, and your gaze flicked up to the angel’s face, trying to read how much pain he was actually in.

“This isn’t necessary,” he said. You smiled at the slight grumpiness you detected.

Cas held his stoic expression well. You could almost believe he was humoring you here. He had been hurt much worse in the past, both as an angel and as a human, however brief that had been.

But you’d gotten pretty good at reading the subtleties in his body language over the years, and his crunched brows were the biggest tell. He was in pain, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

The ice was probably helping to numb it, but his hand was stiff, his skin red and now ice-cold.

So you raised his hand to your lips and laid a soft kiss to his knuckles. “There. All better.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction as he looked down at you, head tilting in confusion. You pat his arm with a smile and let go of his hand.

“Just keep the ice on for a few minutes at a time. It’ll help with the swelling,” you said.

You walked around him, intending to check and see what Sam and Dean wanted for dinner. But a gentle hand on your wrist stopped you from leaving. You looked back at Castiel questioningly.

He looked uncertain for a moment, but then he crossed the gap between you. His hand moved from your wrist to grasp your fingers around his. You looked up at his handsome, unshaven face with the beginnings of a blush warming your cheeks. His height over you always made you feel small, but also protected with his frame taking up space around you.

“Yes?” you asked, with a somewhat teasing smile. His dark blue eyes locked on yours.

With a subtle smile of his own, he leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you,” he said. You didn’t know if he intended to say it so close to your ear, or with that amount of depth in his voice, but it caused a current of electricity to run deliciously down your spine.

Your smile for him turned a bit more playful, and you leaned up and cupped the back of his neck with your free hand.

“I think you missed,” you said, and brought his lips to yours instead.

Check out Part 1: Dean, or Part 2: Sam!

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x female reader #castiel/you #castiel/reader #spn #spn fanfic #spn fics #spn fanfics #supernatural #castiel #zepkies #zepskies writes #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fics #romance #reader insert

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ziggykatzfan · 8 months

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new fic!! gen with lots of sad angsty sam.

basically the story behind this is s2e11 playthings lives in my brain because it's the only time we see drunk sam. and then after that he's shown to have a much higher alcohol tolerance? and it doesn't really make sense. i know it's a small thing the larger scheme of Lack Of Continuity in the CW's Supernatural but i've always been bitter about it so i wrote this. as a reason.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #season 2 #hhehe #ao3 #spn fics #spn fanfics #spn fanworks #gen fic

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uozlulu · 10 months

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Fic. Supernatural. Trapped in a Meme. Destiel.

Character(s)/Relationship(s) Castiel, Dean; Destiel Genre Crack/Meme/Slash Rating PG (if you don’t count language, which is why this is Not Rated on AO3) Word Count 685 Disclaimer As this is fanfiction, I do not hold copyright to the source material(s) nor do I claim that I do. This is for free entertainment purposes only. Summary Dean and Castiel are trapped in a meme. The consequences for breaking it are dire. Notes I’ve been working on a series of four fics for an IwtV AMC season 2 hype event. As I was thinking about how to edit the week three fic to make it a stronger fic, this SPN fic came to me out of nowhere, so here you go. The headlines are taken from actual Destiel news memes that I reblogged to my Tumblr in the order I reblogged them to my Tumblr. I’m sure someone’s already done this fic out there somewhere but I didn’t see it on AO3 so I figured why not write it myself. I think the inspiration for this fic likely came from this Tumblr post by biverly-switzler rolling around my subconscious for a few days.

Also as a note, I’ve only seen seasons 1 – 8, the Scooby Doo episode, and portions of season 15 of Supernatural.

AO3 link

or read below

Trapped in a Meme

Castiel looked at Dean with the softest saddest expression. Dean’s heart tightened and he dreaded Castiel’s next words. In a seeming blink of the eye, they were no longer in the bunker, but somewhere undefined. It was dark, but there was just enough light to illuminate their faces. This place was not hot or cold. It was not dry or humid. It simply existed and they existed within it.

“I love you,” Castiel said. His voice was gentle. His eyes glistened with sorrow and satisfaction.

Dean’s mind went completely blank. He opened his mouth but he did not know what to say. His chest tightened and then he found words bubbling forth from somewhere that was not his own heart or mind, “Lin Manuel Miranda has been cast as Hermes.”

A long silence passed. Castiel blinked. Dean wrinkled his nose and said, “What the fuck?”

“Did Hermes switch vessels?” Castiel asked.

“How would I know?” Dean would have rubbed his face but he did not seem to have hands.

After a short span of silence, Castiel said, “I love you.” Again, his eyes shone with both sorrow and truth.

Dean’s heart tightened. His mind spun. Then words sprang from his mouth like before, “The Writers Guild of America votes to authorize a strike with a record-setting 97% approval.”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment and then they each tried to speak simultaneously.

“Dean –”

“Cas –”

They paused and when neither spoke, Dean sighed. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because it’s how I feel,” Castiel said.

Dean stared at him and licked his lips. Before he could say anything, Castiel spoke again, “I love you.”

All thought left Dean’s mind. His lips moved on their own. “Tucker Carlson has been fired from Fox News.”

Castiel’s eyebrows drew together. “Can foxes get fired from being foxes?”

“He’s a not a fox.” Dean paused. “Do foxes have a news network?”

“Of course they do. All animals do,” Castiel said. “I used to communicate with the bee network years ago.”

Dean considered this a long moment. Then he made a face. “How many times have we done this?”

“I love you,” Castiel said.

“The Winchesters was cancelled after only one season,” Dean said. He blinked and immediately hissed, “What the fuck? Fuck this.”

“I can’t take my clothes off,” Castiel said. “I don’t seem to have any hands.”

“I didn’t literally mean…” Dean’s voice trailed.

“I love you,” Castiel said yet again.

“Donald Trump has been federally indicted by the DOJ and charged with treason,” Dean said. He paused and then added, “Kyle Griffin tweeted, ‘NBC News has now confirmed: Donald Trump has been indicted.’

“This is fucking ridiculous. I’m citing sources now,” Dean groaned. “Also isn’t Paris Hilton president? Or was that a porno?”

“Dean, it’s okay if you don’t ‘return’ my ‘feelings,’” Castiel said, providing air quotes accordingly.

Dean held his gaze and then shook his head. “You know what? This is like an episode of Sailor Moon or something. So, we’ll try that.”

“Try wha –?” Castiel’s expression immediately changed, softening his eyes and returning the smile to his face. “I love you.”

Dean’s heart tightened. He took a deep breath and said with great purpose, “I know.”

Silence stretched between them. Dean said nothing more.

“We’re still glowing faces,” Castiel said. “Did it work?”

“Maybe if we tried another language,” Dean said. “Try Spanish.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” Castiel said.

“I’ll manage,” Dean said.

Before Castiel could comment, his face softened once again. This time he said, “Te amo.”

This time the words did not bubble up from somewhere else. After a pause for translation, Dean said, “Yo a ti, Cas.” Dean did not think about why it was easier to say in a language that he learned from his life experiences. There was no time. Reality returned and the Empty appeared. Dean reached for Castiel.

Castiel pushed Dean aside and allowed the Empty to swallow him whole as he said, “Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean shouted after him but it was no use. Castiel disappeared leaving Dean alone.

The End

I realized that my last SPN fic is from June 25, 2013, so happy ten years since I last wrote an SPN fic lol

#my fanfics #my fanfics 2023 #spn fanfics #my spn fanfics #supernatural #destiel #meme

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latinocas · 2 years

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Some Spn Sapphic aus ideas / tropes / concepts :

The classic breakdancers vs cheerleaders.

All girls school for the supernatural.

Help center volunteers.

Faking to be nuns (for a case!).

Baseball team vs Soccer team.

As Greek Myths or Goddesses.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power au.

Powerpuff Girls World au.

Seeing each other souls/true forms.

Changing eye color when they're in love.

Working at the same office!

New Year party that goes wrong (funny way).

Working a case together (and showing off).

Only their soulmates can use their blood/grace/part of their being in rituals.

They're stuck together while they're sick.

Greek au of women as maidens on the temple of the goddess Amara.

*feel free to use these! Just tag me, please <3

#supernatural #spn #sapphicnatural #Sapphic spn #Sapphic supernatural #Spn au ideas #Spn ideas #Spn fic ideas #Spn au #Spn aus #Spn fics #Spn fic #Spn fanfics #Supernatural fic #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural fics #Supernatural fanfics #Supernatural fic ideas #Supernatural fanfic ideas

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daisyymay · 1 year

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Can someone write one of those fics where john comes back from death and it's an absolute asshole about dean and cas (they're not together yet, they're tiptoeing around each other because they're idiots and ofc john notices everybody but dean notices) but its the Winchester compliant so whatever mojo was in john brains after the finale begin to crack and he starts to remember his friends and he's still an asshole but less asshole and stop bitching about dean and cas because he has a little bit of crush with Carlos in his time so yeah maybe be the worst parent ever but not a hypocrite

#i cant stop think about this #my english is shit #everyday is worst #how can it be i dont know #im smarter in spanish #i dont ship jarlos plis carlos my beloved deserve better and john bi is a hate crime but for the sake of the story we can PRETEND #i wrote like a page with the idea of the plot lol #im not a writer not even in Spanish but the idea was buggin me #fanfics #spn fanfics #destiel fanfics #the winchesters fanfic

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supernaturalfreewill · 10 months

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"Wait! Slow down!" you said, grinning. Dean immediately slowed the Impala and pulled over to the curb, a smile already on his lips. He glanced over almost expectantly.

You were bursting with light. "Remember? When we first met here? It was right here on this corner," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, of course I remember. That was the day you spilled scalding hot coffee on me and apologized profusely—but I couldn't even feel it. All I could think about was how gorgeous you are and how great it would have been to get your number."

You bit your bottom lip, remembering your first view of those uncommonly green eyes. "I think the only thing you managed to get out was basically word vomiting something about it being fine because you didn't really need the suit you were wearing. It didn't make any sense at the time," you laughed.

"I'd already met with sheriff deputies that morning so I didn't need it anymore," he reminisced. Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, feeling a warmth in his chest at the memory. "You were pretty irresistible all flustered the way you were," he said, his smile widening. "Your whole face was blushing."

"Me flustered? What about you?!"

He waved you off. "Please... I was perfectly calm, cool, and collected as usual," Dean said.

"Uh huh... even more so the next time we ran into each other... You practically yelled 'COFFEE' at me," you said, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

He shrugged. "Well—I—it was—I was trying to give you context for where—shut up!" he laughed. "And to be fair I was a little off-kilter seeing you standing there with a blade and a decapitated vamp in front of you. It was... hot. And confusing. And terrifying at the same time."

You reached over and laced your fingers with his. "Not bad for a real-life hunter 'meet-cute'," you said.

"Could've gone worse," he said, giving you a fond look. "I'm just glad you turned out to be a hunter and I didn't have to fuck up your world with 'the talk'."

"Please, Dean... You never would have pursued it if I wasn't a hunter. We both know that."

"Yes, I would have," he argued. He shifted the Impala back into gear. "I told you, you're irresistible."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester drabbles #dean x you #dean x y/n #supernatural #spn fanfics #dean winchester fics

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aterimber · 8 months

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Spend your Friday night the way you should: curled up in a comfy chair, under a blanket reading your favourite fanfics.

Head to my Patreon and discover some new favourites. I post new short stories every 2 weeks, have 100+ already waiting and Patreon is now offering 7 day FREE trials!

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caplanbuckybarnes · 23 days

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Saving You

Summary:

Going to the supermarket should have just been precisely that: a shopping spree. But everything changed when you were kidnapped and thrown into prison for days on end. The torture stops one fateful day when an officer comes to your rescue.

tags

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose

SPN FOREVER PERM: @amelia-song-pond

#spn fanfics #spn fics

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riverwithoutbanks · 10 months

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By the way I realised that I have two pdf of destiel fics:

Carry On by TamrynEradani (haven’t read it yet so i can’t say whether I recommend it or not and I’m not listening to it at work because it seems to be very much E rated)

Vagabonds by chevrolangels

Tell me if you want me to send them to you! (And don’t hesitate to reach out if you have some as well)

#ao3 down #pdf fics #spn #destiel #supernatural #spn fanfics

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zepskies · 2 years

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Patched Up (II)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Summary: How Sam thanks you for treating his wounds.

This is part of a 3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

Word Count: 570 Warnings: Fluff, mentions of blood

Part II: Sam

He worked while sitting at the dining table. All the supplies he needed were laid out in front of him.

Sam’s hands were steady while trying to stitch the cut on his side, but it was at an angle difficult for him to reach. From your spot on the couch, you could hear him when he sucked in pained breaths every now and then.

He said he could do it himself, and you believed him. But the longer you surreptitiously watched him, the more you were unwilling to just sit there and do nothing.

He glanced up at you when you came over and rested a soft hand on his knee. He offered you something of a smile, just a bit strained.

“Can I help?” you asked.

“I’ve got it,” he assured. You bit your lip, glancing at the blood dripping down his skin.

“You’re about to stain the hardwood floor,” you tried teasing. His lips twitched at a better smile. You implored, “Please?”

When you pulled those eyes on him, it wasn’t often that Sam could say no to you. You were so sincere about it, not joking or playfully ribbing at him like usual (or like Dean would). So he relented, handing you the needle and thread.

He watched you focus yourself and continue what he started. All the while, Sam tried not to stare at you too much. It was an oddly intimate thing, having you so close, touching his skin, even if it was for a purely clinical purpose.

Maybe it was because he knew you cared. You knew he’d gotten hurt and slashed a thousand times before, and would again. But you cared. He saw it in the way you took pains to measure and pull each stitch—in a way he hadn’t quite seen before outside of a hospital. It looked professional.

“Did you forget to tell us you’re a trained nurse?” he asked, only half-teasing. You glanced up at him in amusement.

“High school Home EC,” you replied. “You should see me with a crochet needle.”

Sam huffed a short laugh, smiling in apology when you narrowed your eyes at him for disturbing the stitch. Soon enough you were finished, tying off the thread with a looping double knot.

He steeled himself at the feeling of your hand lightly resting on his abdomen while you leaned over to grab a damp paper towel. You cleaned the blood from his skin, then your own hands, and you sat back to look at the wound from all angles.

“Well, I’m no nurse, but I think it’s okay,” you said.

There you go, selling yourself short. Sam smiled, shaking his head.

“It’s perfect, thanks.”

You looked up at him, and that smile on your face brought a swell of affection rising in Sam’s chest. But he could also swear he saw a blush staining your cheeks.

Sam couldn’t help it. He reached out and brushed his thumb against your warm cheek.

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t pull away when he slowly leaned in. And he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips.

It momentarily short-circuited your brain. He backed off a little to gouge your reaction, a silent question in his eyes. All you knew was that your lips were tingling and you wanted him to kiss you again.

So when he did lean in a moment later, you had an answer ready for him.

Onto Part 3: Castiel!

Or check out Part 1: Dean.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester/you #sam winchester/reader #sam/you #sam/reader #spn #spn fanfics #spn fics #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fics #romance #fluff #zepskies writes

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trekkiehood · 2 years

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Never Again (Part 3) - SPN Fanfic

@febuwhump : Day 28 - Presumed Dead

Title: Never Again

Part: [1], [2] 3/?

Fandom: Supernatural

Words: 2.7k

Setting: Stanford Era, Brotherhood AU, 9/11/2001

Whumpee: Dean (Mentioned)

Caretaker: Caleb, Mac

Other Characters: Samuel (OC)

Ship: None

Ao3 Link

Summary: Dean is working a job with Caleb in NYC trying to distract himself from Sam’s departure for college, when the Twin Towers are hit in a terrorist attack.

Trigger Warnings: 9/11, fire, death, building collapse, medical talk, general 9/11 trauma

Authors Note:

Dean is 22 Sam is 18 Caleb is 30

TW: 9/11, fire, death, building collapse, medical talk, general 9/11 trauma

Authors Note:

I. Am a liar.

Hello!

Not only did I *not* post this on 9/11. This also *isn't* the last chapter!

I really thought it was going to be.

I really did.

But then I saw that I was almost at 3k words and went lol I haven't even gotten to the plot yet. So here we are! Another chapter!

Luckily it fit with another Febuwhump prompt because it'd be great if I could finish it sometime this year.

I had to switch POVs half way through which I didn't want to do but it was the best way to get everything done. And surprisingly, I like it.

Anyway, normal warnings apply.

And please forgive Caleb. He's going through a lot.

Enjoy!

~TH~

Doctor Mackland Ames had seen things in his life. He had seen death. He had seen debilitating injuries. He had seen evil men get away with far too much and he had seen supernatural beings on a scale that few would believe.

But he had never seen anything like this.

Downtown New York always had an air of chaos surrounding it. Businessmen running late for work. Parents trying to keep hold of rambunctious children. Street evangelists. Local venders. Everyone all at once. It seemed almost the entire world vying for your attention as you walked down overly crowded streets.

Today was different.

This was not the chaos of life in a big city.

This was the chaos of a world at war.

Of singed ties and ash covered suits. Of children crying in confusion and parents clinging to them as if they had any power to protect them from the horrors they were seeing. Cries and prayers to God coming from the strongest atheist. People handing out bottled water and bandages, not asking for anything in return. So many people and yet so few in comparison. It seemed that any semblance of normal had been ripped away and everything familiar was forever gone.

And the sky.

It was so empty.

The loss of the tallest, most prominent buildings in New York was disorienting. How often had he looked to the World Trade Center to find his sense of direction? It was always there. It was the staple of the city. And now it was gone. What could be seen through a gray ashen haze was less than what should be there. The emptiness of the New York skyline seemed to translate into what he was feeling.

The overload of psychic sensations would have been enough to drive him to madness if he didn't continually reinforce his walls.

And he wasn't even a strong psychic.

He thought briefly of his son and, as selfish as it was, hoped the psychic fog or "hangover" would keep him down for a bit longer. While it was possible that Caleb could use his abilities to help, it was more likely he would get overwhelmed and collapse again.

Mac's own abilities were better suited for this type of search and rescue but- but he couldn't right now. Everything was so psychically distressing. Any attempt to feel outside of himself - even trying to sort through his own feelings - would keep him from being an efficient doctor. And that's what was needed right now. He couldn't do anything to help those missing. There were too many. And he couldn't waste time on searching for people who were already dead when those who survived currently needed him.

And he was trying very hard not to place Dean in one of the two categories.

He didn't have the time or energy to deal with either possibility.

"Dad, do you have any more of this gauze?"

The doctor looked up, his son had a pinched look on his face, the migraine was clearly close to bringing him down. "Caleb, I told you to go lie down. You were unconscious for nearly three minutes." Mac had been concerned that the psychic backlash of the collapse had caused actual damage to his son's brain. Eventually though, Caleb had awoken with a headache and after a few moments of confusion, had sharpened to an almost unfortunate clarity.

Macklad had tried to convince his son to remain at home while he answered St. Vincent's call for help. He should have known better. Caleb was stubborn, and worse, worried. But the "psychic hotline" as the boys sometimes referred to it, had been offline since then.

Caleb was still clinging to hope. They had no confirmation that Dean was still in the building when it went down. There was enough time for him to get out. They had talked to survivors from up to the ninety-first floor. Dean had been on the eighty-eighth. It was possible. Mac thought this stretched hope was the only thing keeping Caleb from completely falling apart. If Dean was dead-

"Dad!" The doctor snapped his eyes back to his son. "You good? You spaced out there for a minute."

"Yes, yes I'm fine, just- just tired."

Caleb gave him a disbelieving look. "Maybe you should lie down for a minute."

"No, I'm fine. There's too much to do. And they'll be bringing in more people soon." Hopefully. So far there'd been discouragingly few survivors.

There had been a few minor scrapes, but overall most of the people who had come in were suffering from either asthma or panic attacks. There should be more injured people. Because if people weren't coming in injured then that would make them… dead.

Mac looked away, trying not to let his thoughts shine through his eyes. "Get some rest if you can. I still don't like that you were down so long."

A twitch of a strained smile. "You too, it's not all on you, Dad. There are plenty of doctors."

"All the more reason for the architect to sit this one out."

Caleb rolled his eyes, "Point taken and ignored."

Mac gave his son's arm a gentle pat. "The gauze is in the cabinet by the desk."

~SPN~

Caleb had never been interested in being a doctor. He knew how to suture and was extremely well versed in first aid, but his adoptive father's life had never been for him. His dad had been an architect and his mother a painter. He'd chosen their footsteps to follow and he'd never looked back.

Days like today reminded him why.

Putting buildings together was so much easier than people.

Not that buildings were all that reliable either it seemed.

But that was part of a long list of things he was trying very hard not to think about.

Trauma wasn't new to Caleb. He'd seen his own family murdered. If that wasn't traumatic nothing was.

But this was different.

This was trauma on a whole new scale.

The patients coming in - he knew there were way less than there should have been, they all did - were more mentally traumatized than physically. There had been nothing that a little gauze and an oxygen mask couldn't fix. But it was the panic. The hysterics. The emotional turmoil and chaos that made Caleb glad his psychic powers were currently offline.

The idea of sitting at home and watching the news while other people did all of the work was overwhelming. If he thought they'd let him downtown he'd be helping on a different scale. But he wasn't an idiot. That would cross a line with his dad. And he didn't know if the first responders had created a barricade to keep people back or not.

But if Deuce was out there somewhere-

And if that wasn't at the very top of the "under no circumstances think about" list.

Dean was out there. He was. And he was fine. He was stronger than this. He was healthy and young and if these middle-aged businessmen could make it down eighty plus flights of stairs then surely a twenty-two year old hunter could.

But he wasn't going to think about it. Dean would get in touch. Or meet back at Mac's. Or waltz in helping victims before rushing out to help more.

That was Dean.

And he was fine.

If Caleb could just bury himself in work- in usefulness- then maybe everything would stop reminding him of his idiot best friends.

Like that ugly bright orange tie.

The one just like he'd shoved at Dean the night before.

The one that Dean had not wanted to wear but Caleb had made him.

The Auburn tie that Caleb had gotten at graduation but never really worn.

The one like the man in a wheelchair was clutching like his life depended on it.

Caleb quickened his step.

"Hey!" He said too loudly. "Where'd you get that tie?"

The man looked at him with surprise. He probably hadn't even realized he was no longer alone. No one seemed to be fully with it today. Caleb knew he certainly wasn't.

"I'm sorry?"

"The tie. Where'd you get it?" And Caleb didn't know how he knew. But he knew it was his tie. He knew it had been the tie that Dean had left Mac's with this morning.

The man blinked at him. "Th-this I- The man- kid really- who saved me. It must have loosened because it fell when- and I used it to cover my mouth-"

"The kid, six-two? Lighter hair, shorter cut? Green eyes?" Caleb could feel his heart pounding. This was the first time he'd heard anything remotely relating to Dean since this morning. Since before the entire world collapsed around them.

The man stuttered for a moment. "I- he was tall. Strong. He carried me from the eighty-third floor. I think his hair was short. Could-couldn't really see his hair color. But his eyes- his eyes were definitely green." He was rubbing the tie almost obsessively. Trying to gather strength.

Caleb didn't care.

"Did you get a name?!"

The man bit his lip and nodded. "Dean. His name was Dean."

Caleb didn't know what he was feeling. It was all the emotions at once. Hope and fear and joy and terror. He didn't know what exactly he was feeling but he knew that his stomach was in knots over it.

"Do you know where he's at? Did he come out with you? You said that he carried you, did he bring you here?"

He watched as the man clenched his jaw, looking away, then finally shaking it. "He-he collapsed on the thirty-second. Some firemen came and one carried me out but-" His lip wobbled and he cleared his throat. "We made it out barely a minute before the whole thing came down. There's no way- I'm so sorry."

And with those words Caleb's world collapsed as quickly as the towers.

He took a step back, now it was his turn to shake his head.

No.

It was impossible.

Deuce couldn't be dead.

He wasn't allowed.

He was a freakin' kid.

Caleb had practically forced him into this case. Trying to keep his mind off of Sam.

He couldn't be-

He couldn't be dead.

Trapped under thousands upon thousands of smoldering steel.

Dead.

"-orry, I don't- I don't know why he even stopped." Caleb's mind broke from the water it had been shoved under and his hearing returned. "I couldn't get down on my own but he stopped when no one else did and he carried me even though- even though he was bleeding. And he carried me until he collapsed himself. He could have saved himself but he stopped for me instead and I don't know-"

Caleb stopped listening, ripping the tie out of his hands. He could see it now. The blood splattering across the neck of the tie.

And he felt hate.

A hate he hadn't felt in a long time.

Reaves didn't know who this man was but he knew that his life wasn't worth that of Dean's.

He didn't care if it made him selfish.

He didn't care if it meant another family would mourn.

So long as it wasn't his, what did it matter?

So long as it wasn't Dean.

But it was.

And this man was alive while Dean wasn't.

Because he had still been in the building.

And there was no way.

No one could survive that.

He stumbled back still holding the tie. Clutching it like it was a physical lifeline between himself and his best friend. His dead best friend. Like he could tap into some of his father's ability and track Dean and prove that he was alive.

Black was beginning to encroach on his vision. He put out a hand, catching the wall in an attempt to stay upright.

"Caleb, Caleb, son, can you hear me?"

The man in question blinked away the haze. He wasn't sure how much time had passed or what had happened. Standing in front of him was a very concerned Mackland Ames.

"You back with me?"

"Dad?"

The doctor frowned. "I want to get you in for an MRI. We're not busy at the moment and it won't take long-"

"He's dead." Caleb interrupted.

Mac stopped, mouth still parted. "What?"

Caleb shoved the tie at him. "He didn't make it out in time. Stopped to help people like a freaking idiot even though he was already hurt. Last seen on the thirty-second floor only minutes before the tower fell. He didn't make it out."

The great Mackland Ames was speechless. "How do you-?"

"I'm sorry," The man was back, had he left? Or maybe he had always been there? "I'm sorry but- I was- I was the last one to see him. He- he- collapsed and a fireman stayed with him and one left with me. I never saw him again and we made it out only moments before- I'm sorry. He saved my life."

And for a brief moment all other emotion was replaced with anger. He shoved forward, dislodging his father. "This is your fault!" He snapped. "If he hadn't stopped to save you-"

"Caleb!" Mac planted himself between the two men. "This is no one's fault but the men who hit the towers."

Reaves clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. He wouldn't throw a punch at his father but only years of hard earned respect assured that.

He turned on his heels and headed through one of the doorways. Mackland was close behind him.

"Son, stop for a minute, please."

Caleb did so, turning to meet his father. "What do you want me to say? I'm not wrong! If Dean wasn't such a self sacrificing idiot then he'd still be alive!"

"And that man would be dead."

"So?! Am I really supposed to be thankful that some random guy I've never met and never will again is alive? He's not important!"

"Dean thought he was. He was doing what he was trained to do."

Freaking John Winchester and his freaking training.

That caused Caleb to pause for a moment. Fine. He'd fight fire with fire. Storming away towards the closest exit may not have been the most mature response but it was better than some of the alternatives.

"Caleb, Caleb where are you going?"

This time he didn't stop or turn. "You were right. The ones at fault are the ones who started this war."

"What's that supposed to mean?" And he could hear the panic and couldn't help the twinge of guilt.

"It means fine. I'll take the fight to them."

"Caleb-"

"Johnny always wanted me to join up. Looks like he's gonna get his freakin' wish."

Today had been a day of unpleasant surprises and they continued, as he certainly was not expecting the psychic force that slammed into him, pressing his back against the wall. Mac rarely used his telekinesis to the point that even his son often forgot it was one of his gifts.

"He will not." His father snapped. Mac's eyes were bright as he held his son in place.

"Let me go!" Caleb tried to pull away but couldn't.

"No. I will not let you do something foolish out of grief or anger. You will calm down before I let you go. I will not let you dishonor Dean by running into danger in some twisted form of vengeance. I will not let you become another John Winchester!"

Reaves closed his eyes, letting out a breath. "And what if when I calm down I still want to join up."

"Then we will discuss it and if it's truly what you want to do then a few days won't change anything." A brief pause. "I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of enlistments in the coming weeks." He finished in a low voice. More of his inner thoughts than an attempt to portray information.

Caleb let out another breath. "Ok." he said firmly. "I'm calm."

Mac gave him an appraising look before releasing him.

"Now, I want you to go into the waiting area and wait."

"Dad-"

"Help people sign in. Direct gurneys. I don't care just- just stay out of trouble until we can sort everything out."

Caleb nodded despite himself.

"Dad-" He tried again.

"Don't Caleb. I can't right now. We can- we can work it all out later."

The doctor turned back towards the main hall. Caleb's abilities still weren't fully online but he pushed out his message anyway.

Mackland stopped. He didn't turn around but his shoulders slumped slightly. "I know, son. I love you too."

~TH~

haha

I am evil

I know

I take great pride in making Line scream after reading my ending at 2AM.

Again, forgive Caleb he's not doing so hot. And this is NOT a place to get into the US response to the attacks. I don't think Caleb has much care for the politics he's just "Dean is dead must avenge" in the same way he'd go after a supernatural attacker. So while I love discussion and will gladly talk to you about the events please do not throw around political accusations. Thanks!

Now that that's out of the way. What'd you think?

I really was planning the reunion this chapter. Had it in a different Febuwhump day and everything. But I got too into and decided to cut it off here.

Would absolutely love to hear your thoughts, ideas, predictions.

Much love and God bless,

Jamie

#9/11/2001 #9/11 #TERRORIST ATTACK #TWIN TOWERS #FEBUWHUMP2022 #TRAPPED UNDER A COLLAPSED BUILDING #TW DEATH #TW DEATH CAUSED BY DISSABILITY #TW FIRE #BUILDING COLALPSE #MY FANFIC #MY FIC #MUSIC #DEAN WINCHESTER WHUMP #BROTHERHOOD AU #SPN FANFICS #febuwhump28 #presumed dead

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