#just give us that moment where dean. dean touches where cas last held him. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

write-nerdy-to-me · 3 years

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~ destiel fic, hurt/comfort, 1k words, for @castielsdisciple

“Be still,” Dean murmurs to Cas when he flinches away again. He’s tried to minimize how much he pokes and digs, knowing what a bitch it is to be on the business end of pliers, but he can’t help that some of the shards are buried deep. He waits patiently as Cas takes a large swallow from the whiskey bottle he’s clutched like a lifeline, then Dean picks out yet another broken glass piece and drops it into the cup next to his hip.

It couldn’t have just been a cut-and-dry D-list case, because life — this life especially — doesn't work like that. It was inevitable for shit to go sideways on them, and it’s laughable, fucking inane Dean ever dared to think otherwise. (“Good things do happen, Dean,” Cas said to him once. Dean’s still not convinced that's true.)

Dean doesn’t know what it is about Cas, but the monster, like, fixated on him. The whole night, no matter how hard Dean fought to get the ugly bastard's attention, it kept going after Cas. Then monster grabbed and fucking bodily tossed him out the window and let out a roar that felt like it shook the whole house; Dean's only felt his heart leap into his throat like that a few times. He didn't get time to even process what happened because the monster, having taken out one opponent, turned and advanced on him. Dean had to finish the job alone, not knowing if Cas was even still alive. He ran to find Cas lying on a patch of wood chips, shattered glass surrounding him like a halo. Those few short moments felt like several lifetimes as he slid to his knees next to Cas, who was winded and aching and breathing. ("You alive?" Dean asked, and Cas huffed out a pained laugh and flipped him the bird. "Yeah — yeah, you're alive, you asshole.")

Dean could swear that Cas has a deathwish or something because the reckless motherfucker refused to be checked out at the hospital. Dean insisted that he needed to go, as only so much could be done with the sparse supplies they had. They argued, and in the end, Cas’ stubborn glare won out. If he was gonna be like that, then Dean figured the sooner they get a move on and save Cas from his own bullheaded stupidity, the better. The last thing they need is Cas getting an infection. And the way he climbed into the Impala, slow, graceless, hiding his winces and grinding his teeth, only further proved that they should head to the hospital, but Dean held his tongue.

The ride back to the motel was, to say the least, unpleasant. In their room, it’s not much better.

For the past hour now, Dean’s painstakingly removed a myriad of embedded glass and wood shards from Cas’ back, wiped away the blood, and applied ice to the welts that have already turned angry and dark. Cas hasn’t said a word since their fight— that disagreement back at the old farmhouse, but Dean's talked plenty for the both of them. He’s lost count of how many times he’s repeated this mantra: Be still, be still. How many times it’s followed by tiny plinks of glass and wood into a plastic cup. Dean would think Cas finds it patronizing — insulting, even — if it weren’t for the way the coiled tension in Cas’ shoulders starts to ease whenever he speaks. If it makes this process easier for him… well, then who’s Dean to deny him?

“Be still. I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Another glass piece. Plink.

The A/C unit in the corner kicks over with a wheeze. Cas says, “I don’t deserve this,” in a voice so hushed Dean would’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting right behind him.

Dean’s hands stop, just for a moment. Plink, plink. “What are you talking about?”

Cas sighs. “I don’t deserve this. Your attention, your care, your lo—” He cuts himself off, arms coming around his middle and shoulders hunching away from Dean’s hands. A soft hiss escapes his lips as the motion tugs sharply at his wounds. He sounds like wishes he could take back the words the second they leave his mouth and hates himself for it. “Your kindness. I don’t deserve it.”

How could Cas think so little of himself? Believe himself so unworthy that he shouldn’t even receive the most basic care? But Dean gets it, maybe more than Cas realizes. “That’s bullshit,” Dean says mildly. Plink.

“Dean...” Cas starts to shift further away from him, and that won’t do, because he needs to listen, needs to hear what Dean’s telling him, and he won’t if he’s already sinking into himself.

“Don’t, I’m not finished,” Dean admonishes quietly. “I’m serious. Don’t move.” He touches Cas’ waist and— and he just stills with a shaky breath. If this were any other time, Dean would dwell on how Cas caves at the slightest touch initiated from him, how he always just lets him.

When it seems like Cas isn’t on the verge of bolting, Dean says, “I know there's something about this case that got to you bad — don’t think I didn’t notice, man.” Hunts aren't easy, and unexpected bodies turning up are never something a good hunter takes lightly, but Cas seemed to take each one like a devastating blow. Dean tried to press Cas about it, and he shook off Dean’s worry and pretended that everything was fine. Dean doesn't have to be a good hunter to know Cas was lying. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Cas turns his face away. “There’s nothing to talk about.” A beat. Then, “I think you’d be better off hunting with Sam again.”

The fuck? Taken aback, heat starts to crawl up Dean’s face. Part of him wants to be angry — hell, he kinda is, underneath the hurt — but he takes a breath and lets it out slowly, for once grateful Cas is facing the other way. “I like hunting with you. Besides, Sam's got his club going on, and anything with Eileen he likes to be involved.”

“Maybe you should have a different partner. One that doesn’t fuck up.”

“Everyone fucks up,” Dean says defensively. “Cas, if this is about what you did, you’re already forgiven for that—”

But Cas isn’t listening. The dam's busted open. “I’m supposed to— I used to be an angel. My powers, I could... I could help you, I could help Sam, but now I can’t — I can’t even do that.” Cas covers his face with his hands, rakes them roughly up through his hair. “I’m — I’m useless.”

Dean’s heart clenches sharply. He knew that the fading powers and subsequent loss of them had been hard on Cas, but Dean didn’t know it was affecting him this badly. Then he feels like an asshole, because of course this was, for fuck's sake. “Cas…”

Cas turns around, winces as he moves too quickly. He touches Dean’s face with gentle, hesitant fingers. There are scrapes and cuts Dean hasn’t taken care of yet, too occupied with making sure Cas doesn’t get a damn infection. Cas’ eyes grow sad; his brow furrows. “I miss— With a touch, I could heal you. I wouldn’t need you to care for me this — this way.”

“Cas, man, you gotta know that it’s never been about your powers. You’re not a-a tool, Cas. All I want— It’s just you. I told you, man. I’d rather have you. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

Cas is quiet for a minute. “Your faith... I've always admired it. How you put your trust in people. You're a good man, Dean."

"Yeah, well." Dean clears his throat. "Gotta make up for all the bad shit I've done, right?"

Cas hums, unconvinced. He grabs the damp rag that held the ice, shaking out the remaining pieces. He doesn’t seem to care where the ice landed. "Let me?"

Dean almost says no, he's fine, but something in the way Cas looks at him... "Okay."

Cas wipes away the dried blood on Dean's face. Lately, he and Cas would be arguing, if they weren’t busy giving each other the cold-shoulder. It’s not the first time they’ve been at opposite ends or had disagreements — Dean refuses to say they bickered — not by a long shot. It’s just... been a while. Dean thought they were past petty fights. Now, though, they fall into a comfortable silence, for once not thick with tension from the unsaid.

Cas’ thumb traces over the scar on Dean's chin, and he says, a hopeless look in his eye, "I love you. Did you know that?"

Dean just breathes and touches Cas' wrist. "Cas..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know."

Dean tugs the rag out of Cas' hand. His mind is taking a second to reboot. But he knows — he knows he needs to kiss Cas right now. "C’mere," he mumbles and cups Cas' face between his palms and presses their mouths together. When they separate to breathe, Dean says, “It’s always you, Cas. You know that.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I love you.” The smile Cas gives him is soft and crooked and still sad. Dean’s not stupid; he knows things with Cas are rocky at best, but it’s a start. “Now turn back around so I can get the rest of the junk out, asshole.”

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bi-bard · 3 years

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Milkshakes - Team Free Will Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Milkshakes

Pairing: Team Free Will X Platonic!Fem!Reader (as put in the request)

Requested: @gabrielasilva1510

Word Count: 1,846 words

Warning(s): violence, death

Summary: [Early Season 11 (Before Episode 10)] Sam and Dean think that there's something that can be The Darkness. Castiel warns them but... who knows? Maybe God's ultimate weapon isn't as scary as it seems.

Author's Note: I used dodie for outfit inspiration because the outfit matched the vibe but change it if you want. I only used a female read because it's in the request and it helped with clarity because the whole imagine is in 3rd person (I do usually use they/them pronouns in my work). Finally, I thought the milkshake flavor sounded good, but you can change it in your mind if you want to.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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--Third Person P.O.V--

Sam was leaning over a lore book in the library. It was too early for him to be so focused on the book but he felt like he needed to. The Darkness being released was his fault, he needed to find a solution.

Dean walked in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and was clearly still half-asleep. He sat across from his brother.

"What're you reading," Dean grumbled out in between sips of coffee.

"I found this book about the most powerful beings," Sam explained. "Most of them are just rumored to exist but I thought it'd give us a jumping-off point on where to find something to help us defeat Amara."

"Anything interesting," Dean asked.

"A Nephilim; kid of an angel and a human," Sam said. "There's no mention that they could kill someone as powerful as God. Then there's..."

Sam trailed off and went back through the book, hunting for a particular page he had read nearly an hour ago. He pointed to the page once he found it.

"This doesn't even have a name but it describes a creature created by God to be a weapon," Sam explained. "I was doing some snooping on some message boards when I first found out about it. There's a lot of religious nuts and self-proclaimed hunters who think this thing is gonna be the end of the world. They say it's a prophecy that can't be stopped."

"And you think hunting it down is a good idea," Dean asked.

"Listen, I don't think it's fair to think this thing wants to end the world," Sam replied. "I think it's the best choice we have right now."

"Alright, fine, where do we look," Dean asked.

The boys didn't have to look far before Castiel popped into the library. He asked where they had gotten on their path to defeat Amara. His eyes went wide when they explained what they wanted to do.

"Are you two insane," Castiel asked.

"Listen-"

"No, I know more about this than either of you," the angel stopped Dean's argument. "This creature could kill you both with a look and end the world with a flick of the wrist and you want to track it down?!"

"Isn't it worth trying," Sam asked.

"'Trying,'" Castiel was so unbelievable done with the idiotic decisions of the Winchesters at that point.

"If we don't try something, then Amara kills all of us anyways," Dean said. "We need something Cas. This could be the thing."

Castiel sighed, letting his head fall forward for a moment before looking back up at the boys.

"Fine," Castiel threw his hands up. "Do you know how to find this thing?"

"Looks like a spell," Sam turned the book so Castiel could look at the page. "We should have everything. It's strange no one's tried-"

"Succeeded," Castiel corrected. "People have probably tried if the spell is so simple."

"Okay, good, let's get the supplies and give it a shot," Dean clapped his hands and stood up.

In a matter of minutes, the boys and their angel were back around the table and ready to start the spell.

Castiel and Dean jumped when Sam grabbed a knife and nicked his hand.

"One of us needs to be bonded," Sam explained. "Like a human compass. It feels right that it's me."

He didn't wait for the other two to respond before he started reading the spell of the book. Castiel and Dean exchanged a look for a moment.

As he finished the spell, a purple flame shot up from the bowl for a second. Sam felt his arm tingling from the wound up. He shook it out, trying to understand what it was telling him.

States over, a young girl, a college student visiting home, is sitting in a booth at a small diner.

In between page turns, she sits up straight. Her eyes flash the same purple as the flame from the spell before she snaps out of the trance.

She looks around. Everything feels different. It's like the air had shifted around her. She furrowed her eyebrows... what the hell was that?

--time skip--

Dean pulled the impala up to the curb of the street. The three of them look at the nice house. White picket fence, two stories, a garden.

"Are you sure about this," Dean asked Sam. "This seems like a pretty normal house."

Sam nodded, "I can feel it. It's here."

"Alright, let's go," Dean replied.

The three of them got out of the car and made their way up the pathway. None of them knew what fight they were going to get once they opened that door. It could've been a deadly fight. They may not have even had a chance to fight.

Still, with one last silent check with the others, Dean lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

The last thing they expected was for a girl to open the door with a wide smile. She had a white dress on with an orange cardigan over the top.

"Hello," she said happily. "What can I help you with?"

"Sam," Dean looked at his brother. Sam just nodded. He could feel it in his gut. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)," the girl replied. "And you are?"

"I'm Sam," the taller man answered. "This is Dean and Cas."

"Nice to meet you," she held a hand out.

Sam awkwardly accepted, shaking her hand. They both froze, eyes flashing purple before they both stepped back from each other.

"That was weird," (Y/n) mumbled, frowning at her hand. "What was that?"

The boys looked at each other but before they could speak, there was a crash from inside the house. The girl jumped.

"Who's that," Dean asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "My parents are gone. No one else is supposed to be here."

Sam and Dean grabbed their guns before all of them walked inside.

Before they could get any answers for themselves, an angel rounded the corner and tried to grab (Y/n), who ran behind the others as soon as she saw the angel.

She stumbled backward toward the wall in shock and fear. She covered her mouth as the more angels walked into her living, not that she knew that's who they were.

Sam, Dean, and Cas were getting thrown around.

"Stop," Sam yelled as they walked toward (Y/n).

"We need something to defeat the Darkness," one of the angels said. "This is our option. Thank you for leading us to her."

(Y/n) was shaking more as she listened. The Darkness? Why was she so important to them? To the boys or the others who had broken into her house?

"Come on, (Y/n)," one of the angels had a hand out to her. She shook her head and the angel chuckled. "Fine. Make this harder."

The others came running at her.

"No," she yelled, dropping to the ground, and covering herself with her arms.

A pulse of energy shot out. The angels that had broken in had burned in front of her.

Dean, Sam, and Cas looked at each other.

(Y/n) slowly looked up from where she was.

"Hey," Sam walked over, kneeling next to her. "You alright?"

"What was that," she asked, shaking. "Who are you? Who were they? What did I do?"

"Hey, hey," Sam touched the girl's shoulders. "It's alright. Hey... how about we go somewhere to calm down? How about some food, yeah? Is there a restaurant nearby or something?"

She nodded. Sam helped her stand up fully and led her to the impala. Dean and Cas sat in the front while Sam and (Y/n) took the backseat.

(Y/n) rambled about a small diner nearby, giving Dean quick directions before falling silent again.

The four of them took a booth in the farthest back corner. (Y/n) sat leaning against the wall, Sam next to her and Cas and Dean across from her.

"Umm... do you know what you want," Sam asked quietly, making (Y/n) aware of the waitress there.

She was an old friend, "You alright, (Y/n)?"

"Yeah," (Y/n) nodded. "I'm just a little tired. Umm... can I get a cherry vanilla milkshake?"

"That it for you, dear," the waitress checked. (Y/n) nodded with a grin, playing with the end of her cardigan's sleeves.

The waitress took the other three's orders before walking away.

"Who were those people," (Y/n) asked. "Why did they break into my house?"

"Because God made you a weapon," Cas said bluntly, making (Y/n)'s eyes go wide.

"A weapon?"

"He means," Dean jumped in, "you have powers that you don't know about. That's why you were able to get rid of those angels."

"Those were angels," she tried to keep her voice down. They all nodded. "I thought angels were supposed to be good?"

"They are supposed to follow orders," Cas corrected. "Not all of them are good."

She nodded, "Are you guys angels?"

"No, well, Sam and I aren't," Dean pointed between him and his brother. "Cas is."

"Oh," she muttered. "You're not-"

"I'm not gonna force you to go to heaven to defeat the Darkness," Cas promised.

"The Darkness," she said. "What's that? Why do I need to fight it?"

"The Darkness is... kind of our fault," Sam explained. "She's trying to create a new world in her image, which includes destroying this one."

"So, how'd you find me," she asked.

Before they could answer, the waitress came back, dropping off their food and drinks. (Y/n) leaned forward and took a sip of her milkshake and grinned to herself for a moment.

The boys were so confused. This was God's weapon?

"Well, Dean and I are hunters," Sam continued once (Y/n) back over to him. "We hunt monsters. Our grandpa was part of this group, the Men of Letters. They have a book in their collection that talks about you. There was a spell that led us to you."

She nodded but furrowed her eyebrows. Monsters? God? Hunters? After what had happened today, she struggled to deny all of it but was still hesitant to believe them?

"Well, if the Darkness knows I can defeat... her... won't she be looking for me too," (Y/n) asked.

"We can keep you safe," Dean promised.

"You're sure?"

"As sure as possible," he nodded.

(Y/n) looked down for a moment, "Okay. I'll go with you. I just... I need to get some stuff from my house and tell my parents that I'll be gone."

"You can't tell them where you're going or why," Dean said. "It'll put them in danger."

She bit her lip, "If it saves them in the long run, fine."

(Y/n) asked a lot more questions that day as they ate in the diner. They told her about monsters and the big bads they had faced. Monsters' weaknesses and abilities. Their other hunting buddies. People she could trust.

Sam, Dean, and Cas trusted her immediately. They felt like they needed to. Like she was a person to rely on.

And there- over a cherry vanilla milkshake- (Y/n) watched her entire life change forever.

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slipper007 · 3 years

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This was your child.

Word Count: 1,448

Inspired by @icefire149 and @officialmisha 's tags on this post (thank you @featherasscas for motivating me to do this)

Also posted on my AO3

TW: Child Loss, grief and grieving

His body was heavy.

Castiel didn’t expect it, not when he’d scooped Jack up, held him like the child he was.

He had dropped his angel blade, left it behind in order to save Jack from the battle raging around them. He wouldn't leave him there, broken and burnt with his wings charred into the grass, a body so easily possessable by any one of the souls God had conjured. He could still smell the seared skin and ash. No, he would rather die than leave him there.

Arms full, Castiel had made a break for it, gotten all of them into a crypt not far from where God had abandoned them, but he couldn’t bring himself to put Jack down as the Winchesters fortified the door. With his powers, he should have been feather-light.

Castiel thought again of the scorched wings and choked back bile.

He was three. He’d only had three years when he should have had eons like Cas. Creatures like them were cursed in that way, to watch those they loved rise and fall and turn to dust, but they had each other. They should have had each other for the rest of time.

Instead, Jack was limp and soundless in his arms.

Castiel tried to tell himself Jack was asleep, the way humans had comforted themselves for millennia. Empty sockets told him otherwise, but he still laid him on the ground as carefully and gently as he could.

The Winchesters were trying to talk to him, but he was busy. Couldn’t they see that? Jack needed him.

He extended two fingers to the boy’s forehead and felt tendrils of grace try to heal him, just as he had tried when Chuck was smiting him. Maybe now, when he wasn’t contending with the power of a god, he could make it work. He still had power, enough power for this. He had promised Kelly, and Jack himself, that he would be there to protect him. He had signed away his happiness, any attempt at a future, to save this child. This couldn’t be the end.

Castiel’s grace flickered, and his eyes flicked up to Jack’s unchanged face.

Jack still had so much left to do; his story wasn’t over yet.

Castiel brushed the hair from his forehead and tried again, feeling the anguish building in his chest start to overflow.

Nothing was changing, nothing was healing, but a part of him was screaming in agony as it died.

Castiel tried one last desperate thing, reaching deep within himself and ripping a part out, trying to use the scraps of his grace to bring Jack back to life. He was a creature born of primordial energy, and his grace was the core of that, a beacon of life that could heal wounds or grow trees. Surely, when paired with his love, his despair, his sheer will, he could create life anew, bring back his son.

The white-blue glow surrounded them both, and Castiel felt it seeping out, more power than he had tried to use in years pounding in his chest like the heartbeat he wanted to bring back.

Jack stayed unmoving, body growing cold and pale.

It wasn’t enough.

There wasn’t enough power, no God to pray to, nothing he could do.

Jack was dead.

The door creaked and groaned and for once, Castiel welcomed the danger. He didn’t move from Jack’s side as the Winchesters called for him, begged him to help. The door fell with a crash.

The souls didn’t stand a chance.

Castiel felt the burning, aching pain in his chest grow, and rather than force it down, try to keep channeling it into Jack, he let it out. His grace seized violently as he lashed out at them with his anguish, screaming. White light poured from his body, obliterating every soul it touched as the Winchesters dove for cover. He felt the ground beneath him quake and tremble as a chasm opened between him and the others, and parts of the floor gave out and crumbled. Bodies fell as the souls inside them were destroyed, billions upon billions turned back to the stardust that seeded creation.

All that stopped him from leveling it all, razing the field outside and destroying what was left of Chuck’s machinations, were the stone walls of the crypt around them.

If he destroyed the crypt, he would bury Jack.

He couldn’t…

The souls gone, Castiel collapsed to his knees. He felt tears burning in his eyes, but tears didn’t soothe the throbbing loss in his chest, and tears wouldn’t bring Jack back. It didn’t stop them from raining down, his tears leaving trails in the dust that had fallen on Jack during it all before he wiped it away.

Castiel wanted nothing more than to join him on that floor.

Who will protect him, keep him safe?

A hand fell on his shoulder.

“Cas…”

“You killed him.”

Castiel hardly recognized the voice that spoke as his own, and apparently neither did the Winchesters.

“God—”

“God didn’t kill Jack, you did,” Castiel said again, feeling anger build in the new hole in his chest. “You held a gun to his head, betrayed him, locked him in a box—”

“He was dangerous, he killed—”

“It was an accident!” Castiel shouted. “He made a mistake!”

“He was soulless!”

“BECAUSE OF YOU!”

The Winchesters startled back as the words echoed, and Castiel felt the roof above them start to crumble. He forced the destruction down, tried to keep from burying his son.

“He burned off his soul saving us, trying to prove he could be useful even without his grace because you taught him he wasn’t! You taught him that the same way you taught me. All he wanted was your approval, to make things right, and you wouldn’t give him that!”

“I—”

“You both were like a father to him. He looked up to you.” Castiel turned his gaze to Dean alone, words cold and angry and burning. “He loved you. And I loved you. I loved you so much that I abandoned everything I ever knew. I took a leap of faith for you, and I suffered and lost more than you could ever imagine. And now you take Jack from me, too. He was three years old.”

For once, the Winchesters fell silent, but it did nothing for him. It wouldn't bring Jack back. He shucked off his trenchcoat and draped it carefully across Jack like a blanket before picking him up.

He was three.

He took Jack outside, feeling his grace spasm and hiccup as the grief grew. It threatened to tear him apart from the inside.

This was your child. I can’t imagine the pain.

Was this what he’d cursed Lily Sunder to a lifetime of?

“Cas,” Sam quietly tried, “He needs a funeral.”

“I’m not giving him a hunter’s funeral,” Castiel snapped, holding Jack even tighter. “Or a human one. He’s half angel, I’ll take care of it.”

Dean moved to speak, but Castiel gave him a withering glare before he could even get the words out.

He tried to set him in the passenger seat of his truck, but couldn’t force himself to. The whirlwind inside him was still thrashing and burning, the dead weight in his arms only making it more violent.

With care, he managed to keep Jack wrapped in his coat and look down to avoid seeing the burned remains of his eyes. When he moved to make his way to the driver’s side, he saw Jack’s wings and the hurricane brewing within him finally came out.

Castiel felt the earth quake and the sky bleed as he tore it all apart. Atom by atom, he reduced the world around him to nothing, collapsing the crypt to dust and cracking the earth as easily as one might swat a fly. The trees toppled like dominos, but he spared the gravestones around him, unable to destroy them.

The bodies underground were all someone’s child, too.

Something in him snapped, and the cosmic power drained away in mere moments. He was left standing at the center of a ruined earth, the last thing standing for miles, even as the Winchesters cautiously looked up from behind the stones, fear in their eyes at the destruction he had caused, of what he was, but he paid them no mind. He was too lost in feeling and he knew, even without thought, that he had fallen.

The pain grew worse, even more all-consuming as emotion overwhelmed him.

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

He thought he had understood pain and loss before, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

///

Update: continues here

#this fucking hurt to write.#I don't know if i did the concept justice but we're gonna throw it out there anyway #slipper007writes #tw child loss #dadstiel #castiel #supernatural #spn fic #jack kline

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waywardnerd67 · 3 years

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My Best Friend Pt 2

Title: My Best Friend Pt. 2 Summary: After Dean foolishly tries to kiss (Y/N) everything changes between them. Paring: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 873 Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Angst/Fluff Square Filled: Friends to lovers Bingo Card: Tell Me A Story Bingo - @supernatural-jackles A/N: None

Check Out: Tell Me A Story Bingo Masterlist / Best Friend Pt 1

Pulling into the motel parking lot, Dean’s eyes immediately recognized the ‘71 Chevelle parked at the end of the building. (Y/N) stepped out of the last room as he shut off Baby.

“Seriously, just talk with her.” Sam said quietly before getting out of the car.

She smiled, hugging Sam and handing him a set of keys, “The only other room available is at the other end. Whenever you guys are settled, come get me.”

(Y/N) would not even look in his direction as she walked back inside her room. A deep ache spread over his chest as he felt another crack open up in his heart. Glancing over to his brother, he found his sympathetic puppy eyes staring down at him.

“Stop it. Let’s go.”

An hour later, they were all in (Y/N)’s room each looking down at their own laptops. The case seemed to be a standard salt and burn of a ghost. The spirit of a local woman was killing off men by squeezing their hearts into mush.

After another hour of researching, Sam stood up stretching, “I’m going to head into town and talk to a few locals. I’ll grab us some dinner as well.”

He grabbed the keys from Dean giving him a pointed look and nodding his head towards (Y/N). The moment the door shut behind his brother, the tension in the room became suffocating. Closing his laptop, he finally decided enough was enough.

“Look, I know things between us have been weird…” He started to say.

(Y/N) looked up from her computer shutting it as well, “We’re good, Dean. We need to focus on the case.”

“Are we good, (Y/N)? You’ve been avoiding me like I have the plague.” He paused as she got up walking to the other end of the room, “I know it’s about our last movie night and me almost.”

She cut him off, “It’s not about that. You said it was a joke and I believe you. Everything is fine.” (Y/N) turned away from him, bracing her hands on the small dresser.

Dean walked over behind her watching the reflection in the mirror, “What if it wasn’t a joke? What if… what if I was really trying to kiss you?”

Her glossy (Y/C/E) eyes snapped up looking at him in the mirror, “What? Don’t say that… I know you don’t feel that way about me. You’ve never shown any interest in me other than your best friend… you’re little sister. Don’t bullshit me, Dean.”

He grasped her shoulders turning her to face him, “I’m not bullshitting you, (Y/N). I don’t know when the lines blurred but one moment you were my best friend then the next…”

She looked up at him from beneath her long lashes, “Then the next, what?”

“I saw you as the beautiful woman you are. The woman I want by my side, who has my back. The woman…” He brought his hand up cupping her cheek, running his thumb over her full bottom lip, “I want to spend the rest of my life protecting, saving the world, loving.”

He held her chin up gently lowering his lips towards hers. Feeling a shaky breath escape her mouth before sealing his over it. Dean pulled away for a brief moment before the tension between them snapped. Their mouths and bodies collided as flannel and denim went flying in every direction.

They were lying tangled together with a thin sheet as the sun started to set. It had been hours since Sam left and Dean had a sneaky suspicion that he was down in their room continuing their research for the case. He hummed as (Y/N)’s fingertips grazed down his chest to his stomach and back up.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He looked down at her staring off towards the window.

“Where does this leave us now?”

Her sweet voice was barely above a whisper. He ran his hand down her bare back loving how soft her skin was beneath his touch.

“Are you asking if we’re the whole boyfriend/girlfriend/dating thing now?” He chuckled as she propped herself up on her elbow.

Her breasts were barely covered by the sheet she pulled further up her body, “I mean… I can’t do the whole friends with benefits thing with you. You mean more to me than that.”

Dean moved a strand of her hair behind her ear, “Really? You mean you like me, like me?”

“Stop it. I’m trying to be serious.” She smacked his chest.

Dean rolled her onto the mattress hovering over her, “I love you, (Y/N). I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. You’ve always been the only one for me. Call you my girlfriend, lover, partner, whatever you want to. All I know is you’re my apple pie life that I’ve always dreamed of having. For me, you’re all I need.”

Her hands slipped up into his hair pulling his lips to hers, “I love you too.”

He kissed her again, settling himself between her legs as she asked, “So you don’t mind me calling you boyfriend?”

“Sweetheart, call me whatever you want as long as you’re mine.”

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

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littlegnoblin · 3 years

Text

Happy Valentine’s Day to my best friend and other half @donestiel

read on ao3

Dean comes home from work to find Cas and Jack sitting at the table, red heart-shaped lollipops strewn in front of them.

He gives Cas a quick kiss. “You trying to give the kid a sugar rush or what?”

“Daddy! It’s for Valemtime’s Day!” Jack yells excitedly, hopping off his chair to hug Dean’s legs.

“It’s pronounced valentine, Jack.”

“I don’t know, valemtime kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean says. Jack beams up at him and he can’t help but ruffle his hair.

“Yes, well, the holiday has become so bastardized that I suppose renaming it wouldn’t hurt.” Cas squints at the box the candy came in. “Does no one find it odd that their children are passing around cards demanding others belong to them?”

Dean sits down and pulls Jack into his lap, flipping through the little pink cards. “I don’t know that you’re supposed to think about it that hard, dude.” He comes across a card that reads ‘kiss me’ and holds it up. “This, on the other hand-- they’re five, what the hell do they need to be kissin’ for?”

“I want kisses!” Jack protests.

“You’re a little kiss monster.” Cas leans in and presses a big, exaggerated smooch to Jack’s cheek. “How was that? Did it satisfy the beast?”

Jack giggles and nods enthusiastically.

“Hey, I’m gonna need to sample one of those kisses myself. Make sure they’re regulation-- standard procedure.”

“Is that right?”

“‘Fraid so,” Dean says with a shit eating grin.

He’s expecting a goofy kiss like the one he gave Jack but Cas uses his thumb to tilt Dean’s chin just so and kisses him deeply.

They break apart when two tiny hands push at their faces and Jack tells them to knock it off.

“This is what Valentine’s Day is all about, champ. Besides, I thought you liked kisses.”

“You guys do it gross.”

Dean smiles and bounces his eyebrows at Cas, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small curl of his mouth.

“Perhaps your father will help you write your classmates’ names on the cards while I get dinner ready.”

“I can cook,” Dean says quickly. The thought of Cas’ last attempt at cooking has his stomach churning and he’s pretty sure feeding that toxic waste to Jack would be considered child abuse.

Cas holds up a cardboard box. “It’s frozen pizza.”

“Alright, I’ll do babysitting duty. Just make sure you take the plastic off this time.”

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your own child and that was one time.”

“One time too many,” Dean mutters.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, dear.”

Cas glares at him. “I expect you to eat a healthy portion of salad along with your pizza tonight.”

“You making it yourself or is it bagged?”

The glare intensifies.

Jack tugs on his sleeve. “Daddy, did you like doing valentine’s stuff in school?”

“Nah, it, uh-- it wasn’t really a thing when I was your age.”

That’s a blatant lie but Dean’s not going to tell him the truth and bum him out. What five year old wants to hear that their dad didn’t do Valentine’s Day exchanges because there was barely enough money for food, let alone candy, and he never really stuck around any school long enough to get included in the holiday stuff. Shit’s depressing.

“So you never got no cards or nothin’?”

“Nope.” Dean never got cards but he did get invited under the bleachers a few times in high school to unwrap a different kind of present. He’s not telling him that either, though.

“That sucks. Can I have a lollipop?”

“Nice try, kid.” Dean taps on the card in front of them. “Get to writing.”

He oversees the careful labelling of the cards, reminding Jack to double check the list of names anytime he spells something wrong and corrects a few backwards letters. They debate who gets what card and Jack complains that he has to give one to Tom who keeps cutting him in line.

Cas rejoins them in the middle of Jack’s impassioned rant, hiding his smile behind his hand.

“While I agree that Tom is a-- what was it you called him?”

“A butthead.”

“Yes, right, a butthead. While I agree he is a butthead, unfortunately I think you need to be the bigger person. Maybe this will even convince him to stop cutting in line and you two can be friends.”

“No way. I don’t wanna be friends with Tom.”

“You never know,” Dean says. “I didn’t like your dad when we first met, but I think he’s a pretty okay guy now.”

Jack looks at him wide eyed. “You didn’t like Daddy?”

“No way, he was a butthead.”

“It was more of a misunderstanding,” Cas explains.

“Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

Cas lifts an eyebrow and stares him down. “What would you call it, Dean?”

Shit, that should not be so hot.

“Not the point; the point is that I didn’t think I would ever like your dad and now we’re married. Things change.”

Jack furrows his brows, considering. “I don’t want to marry Tom.”

Dean snorts. “You don’t have to. In fact, please don’t. His mom is a nightmare.” Cas kicks him under the table. “What! She is!”

“You don’t have to marry him and you don’t have to be friends with him,” Cas says, ignoring Dean completely, “but you do have to give him a card and some candy.”

Jack grumbles but does as he’s told. Dean’s legs are starting to fall asleep but he’s become increasingly aware of how fast Jack is growing up and soon-- way too fucking soon, if you ask him-- he won’t be sitting in his lap at all so he silently resigns to not feeling his legs for the next ten minutes.

“All done!” Jack yells and throws his hands in the air.

“Sweet, now let's stick some candy in these bad boys and call it a night.”

“Wait, there’s a extra, what should I do with it?”

“Is there anyone who’s not in your class that you’d like to give a valentine to?”

Jack gasps and slaps a hand over Dean’s eyes, nearly poking one out in the process. “Close your eyes, Daddy!”

Dean dutifully closes his eyes until Jack tells him he’s finished. He slowly opens one eye and sees the pink card held about an inch from his face.

“For me?” he gasps dramatically.

“Yes!”

The front of the card reads ‘You’re the best!’ and when he opens it, he finds ‘Daddy’ written in some of the neatest handwriting from Jack he’s ever seen. Beneath it he’s signed his name, the K backwards like it always is on his first try.

“I gave it to you because you never had one before and also you’re the best daddy ever, who makes me yummy chocolate chip pancakes and cheeseburgers and does funny voices for bedtime stories,” Jack explains.

Dean wraps his arms around his son and rests his cheek on top of his head, his heart feeling fit to burst. “Thank you, Jack. I’m gonna keep this forever.” And he means it.

“Welcome. Can I have a lollipop now?”

Cas points at Dean. “He gets that from you.”

After the valentines are carefully put away and they’ve had dinner (plastic free and edible, which Cas seems proud of), Jack gets a bath and is tucked in bed. Dean and Cas spend the rest of the night sprawled out on the couch watching reruns of Doctor Sexy and drinking beer. Party city.

When the Doctor Sexy reruns switch to Jeopardy, Dean knows it’s officially midnight.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.”

They tip their bottles together.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you by not planning anything,” Cas says, picking at the label on his beer.

“What? No, of course not. We never do anything. I thought we were on the same page about avoiding that shit after our first Valentine’s together.”

They both shudder thinking about the sweaty cupid ‘handshake’.

“We are, but we never actually discussed it and I…” Cas pauses and tilts his head. “I think having Jack around and seeing the world through his eyes, experiencing things in a new way, it makes me wonder if we’re not missing out on some of the little things.”

“Hey, we appreciate lots of the little things-- like you not cooking frozen pizza with the plastic still on.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, okay. So you sayin’ you wanna celebrate now?”

“Sam and Eileen do.”

“Sam and Eileen are saps. And they don’t have a five year old running around.”

Cas makes a sound of agreement and softly strokes the back of Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “You make a fair point. In all honesty, I don’t want to do anything extravagant but I would like to take the opportunity to remind you how much I love you. Am I allowed to be sappy for a moment?”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I guess you deserve one day to get it all out.” He puts their bottles down and faces his husband. “Lay it on me, big guy.”

Instead of looking annoyed, Cas just looks fond. “You know, it’s ironic that a man as full of love as you are is so quick to dismiss any sentimentality. You are a fascinating creature.” A thumb sweeps under his eye where he’s got permanent dark circles and settles at the corner where his lines get deeper every day. It makes Dean want to squirm but he holds still under the reverent touch. “Perhaps that’s why I never stood a chance.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says, dropping his eyes to the couch.

“Hush, I’m allowed, I’ll have you know. My husband gave me explicit permission.”

“Well, your husband is thinking about rescinding the offer.”

“I love you.”

Cas says it with such conviction that Dean can’t help but look back at him, at his bright eyes and soft smile; at the evidence of his love written all over his face.

“I love you, endlessly, Dean Winchester. For everything that you are; the good and the bad. From the moment I saw your soul in hell, so bright it was almost blinding, I knew I would never be the same. You breathed life into me, gave me meaning and purpose, taught me the value of love, and you did it all, selflessly, simply by being the man that you are.” Cas draws him close, presses their foreheads together. “I can never give back all that you’ve given me but I promise you will have my love until we are nothing but a forgotten memory, and longer still.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and they breath together in the small space between them.

“You can’t-- you can’t just say shit like that,” he whispers.

“And why not?”

“Because it’s not true, first of all.” Cas opens his mouth to argue but Dean covers it with his hand and hurries on. “You’ve already given all of that back and more. God, Cas, if it weren’t for you I’d have been dead years ago. I needed to stick around-- to take care of Sammy, to stop whatever or whoever was trying to end the world next-- but you… you made me want to live. Really live, not just survive, you know? I fuckin’ love you, man.”

Cas pushes Dean’s hand away and presses his lips against Dean’s fervently.

When they finally break apart for desperately needed air, they both pretend they aren’t sniffling like little girls.

“You happy now? Can we go back to not doing this?”

Cas laughs. “I hadn’t planned on making it quite so emotional, I apologize. You always bring out the most in me.”

“Ugh, enough,” Dean groans, shoving Cas’ smiling face away. “You aren’t allowed to say anything even approaching romantic for the next twenty four hours, capiche?”

“I can agree to that, as long as I’m allowed to give you a gift later.”

“I thought you said you didn’t plan anything?”

“It’s nothing big.” Cas’ fingers sneak under Dean’s shirt and trail along his stomach, dipping to his waistband. “I just happened to walk by Victoria’s Secret and see a pair of pink satin panties in the window.”

Dean’s heart beats a little faster. “Oh yeah?” he says breathlessly. “Not gonna lie, that seems more like a present for you.”

Cas hums and leans over Dean, forcing him to lie back on the couch. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to do whatever you want while you wear them.”

When he kisses him he tastes like cherry candy and Dean thinks could learn to like this holiday.

#spn #destiel #deancas #bend-me-shape-me #sweatercas #rambleoncas #acklesy #alivedean #userpris #usersila #goodthingsclara #shelikestv #hope you guys dont mind me tagging you!!!#sarah writes

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bowlegsandbiceps · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 7: Young at Heart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Teen / Death!Dean & Human!Cas / Destiel / 5,073 words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

It was a snowy evening in the heart of winter when Death roamed the streets of Chicago. You wouldn’t have known him from any other young man, bundled as he was in a worn leather jacket, jeans and boots but there was a certain static about him that made other pedestrians give him a wide berth. He was headed to the fire station on the corner of Hope and Clairmont, humming a Billy Joel song as he avoided slush piles and other humans alike.

He posted up against a telephone pole, making sure to breathe so any passers-by would note the cloud of air passing his lips on every exhale and assure themselves that he was human. It was the least he could do. He checked his watch, an old Timex with a cracked face, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Any minute now.

Across the street, a young girl hurried into view from around the corner, her arms full of a bundle. She looked up at the sign over the fire station door, looked down at her bundle, and swallowed hard. A tiny arm rose from the bundle, naked and red. The girl took it and tucked it back inside the blanket. She sniffled, setting the bundle gingerly down on the top step before backing away slowly. One step, then another her eyes remaining on the pile of blankets before her face crumpled and she turned to run, a dry sob echoing down the empty street.

Death pushed off the telephone pole and made his way leisurely across the street. The baby had started to cry, cold now without its mother to hold it and keep its limbs covered. Death looked down at it, feeling its little heartbeat slow. He crouched down, breathing directly onto the child, and knew he was likely making its final moments worse, a wretched thing like him, even if he was trying to provide a little warmth.

Then something unexpected happened. The baby quieted and bright blue eyes opened, holding Death captive in an intense stare. Death couldn’t feel things, he mused, but if it could, surely it would have been charmed by the babe who instead of recoiling from its impending end, raised a hand toward him, beckoning.

Death raised a cautious hand, one finger hooking in that tiny fist and he was surprised at how strong it was, despite the hypothermia. The child held his gaze still, just looking not pleading or frozen in horror and Death glanced at his watch again, noting the time. He looked up at the firehouse door, the sound of laughter dulled by the heavy metal. If only the girl had knocked before she ran. Death looked back to the child, its ethereal stare snagging his again.

Death raised his hand and knocked.

Inside the firehouse, a number of men made an uneasy circle around the strange man holding a bundled infant. Death hadn’t meant to stay but since he’d already gone and messed with the strings of Fate he figured he might as well assure that the child was taken care of.

“You found him on our stoop?”

“Yeah, you know, I figured some poor kid musta left him. Safe harbor and all.”

Death looked around then down at the babe who seemed to be transfixed by Death’s face. Death wondered what he saw, why he wasn’t scared. His little soul was a speck of shining light, strong and hearty though his body was frail with the beginnings of pneumonia settling in his lungs.

“Why didn’t you take him to a hospital?”

Death blinked and the man recoiled slightly. “Well, he was left here, and don’t you have EMTs on staff.”

One of the men seemed to shake himself out of a stupor and stepped closer. He shivered as Death transferred the baby into his arms, the brush of his hand on Death’s coat giving him a sudden vision of fire and smoke and a strange sense of vertigo as if falling through the floor. He coughed, moving to lay the child on the table and it immediately started to cry. Death hovered closer moving into the child’s line of sight and it settled down though still made discontented noises as he was poked and prodded.

“Did you see who dropped him off? A firefighter asked and Death shrugged, hands back in his pockets.

“She was young. Hurried off before I could say anything.”

The firefighter narrowed his eyes but didn’t question it. “Did she say anything? Why she was dumping him? If he had a name?”

Death paused, looking down at the boy whose eyes were on him bright blue as all newborns are but there was an electricity in them. Death laid a gentle hand on the child’s head, feeling the soft down of hair, the fragile skull.

“No,” Death said finally. “But his name,” Death smiled and the child seemed to smile back. “Is Castiel.”

“Cas-tee-what?” One of the fire fighter’s whispered to another and Death turned towards him, causing both men to step back.

“Castiel. The Angel of Thursday.” Death’s thumb swiped across the child’s forehead. “The Angel of Solitude.”

Death was a busy man, lots to attend to and never in the same place for very long. He worked mostly with children, preferring to be the one to usher them to the other side but as time passed he found himself returning to one place over and over.

The child he saved had been adopted almost immediately by a couple who’d lost many children of their own. Death may have pulled a few strings with Fate but the outcome was ideal. Castiel grew up well-loved and cherished by a mother and a father who understood the great gift they’d been given. They even decided to keep his name, something that pleased Death immensely. If he gave the grandparents a few extra years because of it, well that was his business.

It was a windy day at the beginning of spring when Fate suddenly shifted and Death lighted down in Chicago once more. Castiel, climbing around on the jungle gym at the local park, his babysitter on the phone several yards away was forty-five minutes from an untimely end. Death hung back, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he watched the scene play out, an older man making his way over. Death eyed the babysitter as the man approached Castiel, holding a leash and collar.

“My dog got out of her leash! Can you help me find her?” The man said, his face drawn in grief but Death saw into his heart and his rage rumbled as thunder in the distance.

“Oh no!” Castiel exclaimed, jumping down and touching the leash in the man’s hand. “I’ll help you find her. I got a dog too. His name is Marshmallow.”

The man offered his hand and Castiel took it.

Death was there in an instant, one hand on the man’s shoulder. When the man looked up, his mouth opened in surprise and he gasped his last breath. Castiel cocked his head to the side at the man crumpled on the ground before he looked up at Death. Death could only stare back.

“What happened?”

Death shifted from foot to foot. “He was a bad man. He wanted to take you.”

Castiel’s eyebrows rose and he looked down at the cooling body on the wood chips. “Is he going to be okay?”

Death fought a smile, eyes flicking to the reaper nearby before waving them away with the man’s wretched soul. “He’s gone to where he belongs.”

Castiel nodded and offered his hand. “Wanna swing with me?”

Death’s neck jerked in surprise but found himself carefully slotting his hand in the child’s and allowing himself to be lead off to the swing set.

“I’m Castiel. What’s your name?”

Death paused thinking back to a time when he had a name. “Dean, I think.”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel looked up at him, his face dominated by large blue eyes. “Wait, you think? Don’t you know your own name?”

Death huffed. “Well, no one has used it in… a very long time.” He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel grabbed onto one chain of a swing and turned to sit in it. “It must be lonely, no one knowing your name.”

Death sat in the swing next to the boy and pursed his lips. “Maybe a little, but it’s not so bad. My work keeps me busy.”

Castiel kicked off with his feet and began pumping his legs, reaching higher. Death lifted his head to watch. “‘Daddy says ‘all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’ I asked him who Jack was.” Castiel let his feet drag along the ground, grinding to a halt and Death felt a smile quirk at his lips as the child’s head tipped to the side in confusion. “But he just laughed.” Castiel’s head righted itself. “Not at me though. Sometimes I’m funny and don’t realize it.”

Death surprised himself with a laugh, the sound carrying on the wind and making the group of people gathering around the corpse by the jungle gym shiver. The babysitter was still on the phone but the commotion was stealing her attention. Death turned to look at Castiel, rocking back and forth in his swing, his eyes on the horizon.

“Hey, just so you know, for next time, any stranger comes up to you asking you to go somewhere with them you kick em in the shin and scream your head off,” Death rested his palm atop the boy’s head and Castiel looked up at him, a small smile playing across his lips. “Capiche?”

Castiel gave a deep nod. “I capiche.” His eyes had found his babysitter who was now frantically searching for him. When her eyes landed on him, Death hid himself from her. “She looks really mad.”

“She’s just scared,” Death replied and Castiel looked over at him. “You wandered off and she didn’t know where you were.” And a guy dropped dead about six feet from where you were playing.

“Castiel!” The babysitter skidded to a halt in the gravel in front of Castiel’s swing, pulling him into her arms. “You scared me.” She picked him up, hooking him on her hip. “Come on we need to go.”

The child heaved a deep sigh as if resigned to his fate. “Okay.” He twisted in her arms, looking back at Death, and gave a small smile. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye kiddo.”

The babysitter was already starting to walk away and she snorted, looking over her shoulder then at Castiel. “Who are you talking to.”

“Dean. He’s my new friend.”

Death sat smiling until they were out of sight.

Castiel was eight when his dog Marshmallow was going into his fifteenth year. Death generally let the new recruits handle the animals but on a scorching summer day, he found himself standing at the gate of the big craftsman on the corner where Castiel lived. He looked up at the second-story window, the one he knew to be the young boy’s who was getting bigger every day.

They’d met many times over since that first encounter in the park and to Death’s surprise, Castiel always remembered him and knew him by name. Now seemed to be no exception, the front door opening to release Castiel into the world. His dark hair was an unruly swirl beneath the baseball cap he wore, his matching t-shirt proclaiming he played for the Mustangs, sponsored by Nally Ford.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said with a small smile as he approached. Death smiled back but his eyes caught on the white ball of fluff that was attempting to make his way down the porch steps to follow the boy.

Death let himself in the gate, striding forward and they met halfway, Castiel looking up into Death’s face while Death peered down into his. There was no fear there, no anxiety. There never had been, a wonder Death never could truly comprehend. Marshmallow gave a low growl. Death glanced down at the old dog, barely any teeth left in his head but ready to bite at the smallest provocation. That was about right.

“Marshmallow. No.” Castiel looked down at the dog then back up into the face of Death. “He’s just grumpy because he doesn’t feel good.” Castiel watched as Death crouched down, hand reaching. The growl ceased as Death’s hand hovered over the dog’s head and Castiel squatted down to pet him, hands gentle around the old dog’s ears.

“Yeah, about that,” Death began softly. “This is going to be hard for you to understand, Cas, but Marshmallow is very old.” As he said it, the dog’s eyes sank closed. Castiel rubbed his ears.

“I know.”

Death swallowed hard, his hand moving to hover over the dog’s back and Marshmallow’s legs gave out, his body rolling to the side as he began to pant. Castiel rubbed his belly. “And when dogs get very old, well, they have to go.” Castiel looked up at him. “And when that happens, someone comes to get them.”

Castiel looked down at the dog who was panting, tongue lolling out the side of its mouth. He ran his fingers through the curly white fur at his side. “Not the dog catcher…”

Death chuckled. “No, no not the dog catcher. Someone who helps them make the transition to their next journey.”

Castiel continued to play with Marshmallow’s fur. “Who?”

Death licked his lips, sucked in a breath he didn’t need. “They look like ordinary folks, sometimes you can see them, other times you can’t.”

“Like you?”

Death blinked and took a moment to marvel at the feeling of surprise, something he hadn’t felt in eons. “Yes, like me.”

Castiel looked up at him, blue eyes steady but solemn. “You’re here to take him, aren’t you?”

Death swallowed hard, the sorrow in the boy’s voice cutting him deeper than tears ever could. “Yeah, Cas. I’m sorry.”

Castiel sniffled a bit as he looked down, petting down Marshmallow’s side. “You’ll look after him? Wherever you take him? He won’t be alone, right?”

Death placed a hand on the back of Castiel’s neck and waited for a shiver that never came. Finally, he spoke. “Yes, of course, Cas.”

Castiel sucked in a deep breath and sat down on his butt, folding his legs so they butted up against Marshmallow’s legs. “Can I have just a few more minutes?”

Death glanced at his watch and nodded. They sat there, young boy and ancient entity as the dog’s breath became more shallow. Castiel dug his fingers into the thick curls of Marshmallow’s side and folded himself in half, pressing his face to its chest. The dog fussed attempted to lick at Castiel’s ball cap. Castiel breathed in deep and Death found himself doing the same, smelling cut grass, sweat and the musky odor of an animal nearing its end.

“It’s time, Cas,” Death murmured, his voice low and Castiel lifted his head, face tear-stained now, but he wiped them away with the back of his hand. He placed his hands on the dog’s side, looked up at Death, and nodded.

Death allowed the dog to sniff the back of his hand, accepting the feeble lick before he carded his hand through the curls at the top of his head. Castiel’s hands that had been rising and falling with the dog’s labored breath stopped. Death curled his hand and brought it to his chest, holding it there for the feeble soul to feel safe on its journey. His other hand when to the top of Castiel’s head.

“Go get your father. He’ll help you with the ritual.”

“Can’t you stay?” Castiel asked, blue eyes shining with unshed tears and if Death had a heart it would have broken.

“I’ve gotta get Marshmallow to where he belongs.” Dean knuckled away a tear that was making its way down Castiel’s cheek.

“Okay,” Castiel lowered his head, looking at the cooling body of his beloved pet. He looked back up. “Goodbye, Dean.”

Death was unprepared for the boy to wrap his arms around him in a tight squeeze before getting up and walking back towards the house.

Castiel was twenty when his fate changed again and Death nearly didn’t make it in time. In the back seat of a car, driving way too fast down a dark winding road, Death appeared next to him, his face striated in moonlight. Castiel jumped, his reflexes slower with the alcohol in his veins.

“Dean?”

“Cover your face, kid.” Death muttered as he braced his feet against the seat in front of him and threw out an arm.

When they hit the tree at 63 miles per hour Castiel’s body slammed into his arm and Death could feel the ribs break, felt the punctured lung as if it were his own. The driver was halfway through the windshield, another reaper already there to take him. Death waved them away as blood slowly filled Castiel’s lungs.

He coughed, choking on the acrid liquid, unable to get a full breath. His hand twisted in Death’s leather jacket, tugging, blue eyes wide and for the first time Death saw fear there. He couldn’t stand it. He reached past the headrest in front of him, touched the mangled face of the boy there and he immediately stopped breathing.

“You can’t do that!” A voice sharp from outside the car and Death nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned his head to look out the window and found the small blond woman standing there with her clipboard of names. “It’s the other boy’s time, Dean.”

Death glared out at her, throwing open the door. “You got your soul. Get out of here.”

“You reaped the wrong-“

“The hell I did,” Death yelled and every animal in the forest quieted, the wind through the trees died down.

The two of them watched as headlights appeared down the road, slowing when the driver saw the wreckage. Death and Fate stood side by side on the shoulder of the road as the good Samaritan talked to Castiel through the back window, promising him everything would be alright.

“He’ll make it.” Death heaved a sigh, hearing the sirens in the distance.

“Just barely,” Fate muttered, consulting her clipboard. “One of these days you’re going to run out of favors.”

Death turned to look at her. “Not any time soon.”

It was three days later in his half-empty dorm room that Castiel attempted to take his own life. Death arrived just as Castiel kicked the chair out of the way, his body falling with an extension cord wrapped tight around his neck right into Death’s arms. A quick flick of his pocket knife and Death had freed Castiel, laying him gently down on the floor as he coughed and sobbed.

“No! Take me! I want to die!” Castiel twisted onto his knees, grabbing onto Death’s legs and hugging them tightly. “Please. I can’t take it. The guilt, it’s too much!”

Death ran his fingers through Castiel’s unruly hair. “It’s not your time.”

“It was my time,” Castiel wiped at his face, fury in his eyes as he glared up at the ancient entity. “I heard you and that lady talking. She said you reaped the wrong one!”

“You hit your head pretty hard, kid.”

Castiel wiped at his face furiously, getting his trembling legs under him. “I know what you are. What you do.”

Death brought himself to his full height, leveling Castiel with his most pensive stare. “Do you?”

“I’ve always known,” Castiel spit. “And I never cared. You were always my…” Castiel trailed swallowing hard. “My friend. But this, I can’t take this Dean.”

“Why can’t you just be grateful,” Death huffed holding out his arms.

Castiel’s face went slack with shock. “You kill the man I love instead of me and I’m supposed to be grateful?”

Death’s mouth popped open, surprised again, that made twice in a single decade now. “Your… the man you loved? Wow, how did I miss that?”

“You miss a lot of things,” Castiel spit, his eyes hard.

Death rubbed his mouth. “When-“

“Since I was a child,” Castiel heaved a sigh. “Look don’t try to change the subject. I was dying already, Dean!” Castiel’s fists were clenched at his sides. “Why didn’t you let me go? Why’d you have to take him? He was everything to me. How could you not know that?”

Death rubbed the back of his neck, “Life isn’t really under my purview, kid.”

“What about love then?” Castiel got right in his face, nose to nose, and Death stood stock still.

“I know it when I see it.”

“Then you must have been blind that night.” Castiel spun away, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t do this. Please. Take me.”

“No.”

“Why? Why not?”

“I told you. It’s not your time.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you have some weird obsession with me?” Castiel strode right up into what a human would call their personal space. “What is it about me huh? Why me? Why don’t you latch on to some other poor bastard?”

Death swallowed hard. “I can go if you’d like.”

Castiel let out a humorless laugh. “Stay. Go. What do I care?” He let himself fall onto his bed, face buried in his pillow while Death stood watch.

Death didn’t see much of Castiel after that or more like Castiel didn’t see much of him. He’d check in every now and then, saw him graduate college, move to the east coast, fall in love and get his heart broken only to fall in love again. Through it all Death stood watch, sometimes with Fate at his side, like at Castiel’s wedding.

“I could step in,” Fate murmured, an offer she wasn’t likely to make twice but Death shook his head, watching as Castiel beamed with happiness after kissing his husband.

It wasn’t long after that they met again in a hospital just north of Chicago. It was nearing midnight and no one was around. Castiel was sitting with his mother, his husband and father had gone home hours before but Castiel insisted on staying. Neither could understand why Castiel refused to leave her side but didn’t question it. Castiel was a good son who loved his mother very much.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said as Death hovered in the doorway. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“I tried to wait for you to leave,” Death mumbled, looking down at his boots as he tapped his toe on the floor.

“Why?”

Death looked up and found Castiel’s head canted to the side, and he couldn’t help but smile. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms when we last spoke.”

Castiel looked down at his mother’s hand, so small and frail in his own. He cleared his throat. “You were right. I should have been grateful.”

“It was a callous thing to say when you were grieving.”

Castiel snorted. “That’s true.” He huffed a sigh. “But ultimately you were right. I didn’t love him. I didn’t know what love was then. Not that kind of love anyway.” Castiel ran his thumb over the thin blue veins of his mother’s hand. “How much longer does she have?”

Death checked his watch. “We’ve got a few more minutes.”

“Then sit.”

Death did, across the bed from Castiel and took in the changes, the strands of gray in his hair, laugh lines crinkling around his eyes and mouth.

“You know you look exactly the same as I remember you when I was four.”

Death grinned. “All that clean living.”

Castiel snorted, a grin pulling at his own lips before it faded. “You’ll take care of her?”

Death nodded. “Of course.”

Castiel squinted, opening his mouth then closing it again. Death heaved a sigh. “Go ahead. Ask whatever you want to ask me.”

Castiel’s cheeks bloomed a lovely pink that Death would see in every sunrise from that moment on. “How’s Marshmallow?”

Death blinked. “I give you one question to ask me whatever you want and you ask about your damn dog?”

Castiel frowned. “I loved that dog.”

Death rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Marshmallow is doing great. Has lots of doggy friends.”

A small smile tugged at Castiel’s lips. “Good. I hope Mom gets to see him.”

“I’ll make sure she does.”

“I’m ready.”

Death gave a small nod, waiting a beat to watch Castiel breath in steadily, his eyes on his mother’s face. Death reached forward, fingers brushing a white curl from her forehead before resting his palm there gently. One of the monitors began to scream. A nurse bustled in quickly, checking in and ultimately turning off the sound, standing by as the old woman took her last breaths. Death took her soul and cradled it to his chest.

“Take care of her,” Castiel whispered and Death gave him a solemn nod before he went on his way.

It wasn’t long after that Fate dealt Castiel another bad hand and Death had arrived to do his duty. Castiel’s husband laid prone on a hospice bed, his once strong body frail and hairless, ravaged by a disease Death hated almost more than he hated himself. Death came into the room unannounced, stood by Castiel’s side as silent tears ran down his face.

Death checked his watch.

“I can feel you.”

Death nearly fell over in shock. Third time in as many decades. Damn.

“Don’t hide, Dean. I’ve been expecting you.”

“I tried.” Death placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I tried but I’m out of favors.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel sniffled, his own hand coming up to cover the cool one on his shoulder and Death felt the warmth as if it were the sun. “How much time do we have?”

“Couple minutes.”

Castiel nodded, leaning forward and placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder, giving him a light shake. He gasped awake, eyes hazy with pain and medication but something in them still blazed when they landed on Castiel.

“Honey, I want you to meet someone. Can you see him? Next to me.” Castiel turned, looking up at Death, and licked his dry lips.

“Yes,” Castiel’s husband croaked. “He’s just as handsome as you said.”

Castiel let out a watery laugh, glancing up at Death who was not blushing as he reached up to rub his ear. “He’s here for you.”

Castiel’s husband nodded solemnly. “About time.”

Castiel let out a quiet sob and immediately tried to shove it back into his mouth. His husband squeezed his hand as Death squeezed his shoulder.

“Come on now. This ain’t the end. I’ll see you. Hopefully not too soon?” Castiel’s husband lifted his brows and Death gave him a small smile.

“Not if I have anything to do with it.”

Castiel was leaning over, pressing his forehead to his husband’s and breathing slow in his nose and out his mouth, barely hanging on. Death stepped forward, hand covering the one that Castiel held. One final gasp and then the room was silent. Castiel gave a soft cry, feeling warmth rush through him, love and light and something so bright it almost burned. And then it was gone.

Death pulled the soul close to his chest, his other hand lighting on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel glanced up into the face of Death but was immediately distracted by the small ball of light in his hand. Castiel looked up and Death nodded in answer to his question. Castiel let go of the hand in his and wrapped his arms around himself as the tears came hot and fast.

“Can you please stay?”

Death shifted from foot to foot. “I need to take care of him. But I can come back.”

“Please hurry.”

Death wasn’t really the type to hang around any one place too long but for years after Castiel’s husband’.s transition, he found himself irrevocably drawn to Castiel. He’d always been to a certain extent but the man’s grief had worn down all his defenses, all his excuses to stay away. For once Death was welcomed into a home with open arms.

They sat on the couch and watched bad television. Death had a strange obsession with Dr. Sexy that Castiel found hilarious. Death tolerated all of Castiel’s terrible nature documentaries. It was one night as Castiel was going up the stairs to bed that he paused, looking back at Death who was putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I love you, Dean. You know that right?”

Death stood stock still and he’d be goddamned if it hadn’t happened again. He looked up to find Castiel just standing there on the third step, gaze just as intense as it had been when he’d first laid eyes on him as an infant. He didn’t have to say it. Neither of them did so Castiel just gave him a small smile and continued his ascent up the stairs. And that night, Death followed.

It was both the worst and best day of his tenure when Castiel’s time was finally up. Fate in her fussy suit with her obnoxious clipboard arrived to stand at the end of the hospital bed where Castiel lay, Death at his side.

“No more favors. No more tricks,” Fate said softly and Death looked away from the face of his beloved, aged and creased as it was now, while his was permanently stuck as youthful and smooth.

“Can I keep him?” Death asked, staring into the eyes of Fate and daring to hope. “I know it’s not ever been done. I know this is a one-person gig but…” Death looked back upon the only face he’d ever loved, into the only eyes that had ever truly seen him. “Just this once, can I keep him?”

Fate gave him a small smile. “Yes, Dean. He’s yours to keep.”

So Death and his companion were joined at the human’s crossing, bound by Fate herself to walk through eternity together. Sure they quarreled, sometimes even spending a few decades apart but the string that tethered them was unbreakable, a fact Death loved to remind his younger counterpart of.

It’s said that when a couple dies within hours of each other they’re always accompanied by another couple, two men, handsome and young, looking more in love than any cosmic entities had a right to be.

#suptober21 #destiel #supernatural #fanfic: supernatural #deancas #character death #the dog dies sorry #writing by me

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pastorpresent · 3 years

Text

"Wakey wakey time, Sammy."

Sam jolted awake. Or at least, his body tried to jolt. It was difficult when he was tied to the bed frame by every limb. He yanked his hands forward, fingers curled into fists as he tried to use all his strength to break the rope.

It didn't budge. All he achieved was making his tender wrists sting more as the material dug into his skin.

"Oh come on Sam, you know you're not breaking out of this one." Dean mocked, his eyes flashing black.

Sam resisted the urge to flinch. It was horrifying, seeing his brother as one of those. He understood why Dean had been so freaked when he was at the height of his demon blood kick. There was something deeply disturbing about such familiar eyes turning pitch black, eliminating those speckles of green that Sam had grown up seeing in them. Eliminating that barely there softness he often reserved for Sam.

"I have to say, we're going to have so much fun baby brother. The plans I have for you..." he approached the bed, and Sam tried to tug at his confines again in one last ditch effort. Not an inch of give.

Dean always had been an expert at tying knots. Sam wasn't going anywhere.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed next to him, lifting the knife to Sam's face.

He tensed, staying as rigid and still as possible as the light reflected off the metal, making it glint in such a pretty way despite the fact that whatever it was going to inflict was sure to be the opposite.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, gasped as the cold metal came downwards to press against his neck.

For one painful moment he truly believed this was it. He was going to die at the hands of his own brother - the same one who had been protecting him all his life. He was going to bleed out in the bunker with his neck slit, just another casualty of Dean's demon side.

But the sharp edge barely pressed into his skin enough to draw a few drops of blood, and then it was removed.

When Sam let his eyes flicker open, Dean was staring at him. His eyes were soft and his smirk held something fond, and if Sam didn't know better? He would've probably thought this was his Dean again.

But there was still something too oddly unsettling about the expression, rooted a little deeper that Sam could really process right now.

"My beautiful baby brother. You went wrong, but we can fix that, me and you. We can get you back on the right path." Dean lifted the knife again, using it to brush some hair from Sam's face.

Sam kept his expression hard. He wasn't giving this thing the satisfaction of seeing him afraid.

Well, that was the plan until the knife was drawn back, and Dean used it to slice open a long cut down his own wrist.

The blood immediatly beaded on the surface, trickling over his skin and drip, drip, drip onto the bed sheets below.

"W-what are you doing? What are you..." Sam trailed off, swallowing hard because he could see exactly where this was going and he needed Cas here now.

"I'm helping you, like I should of all those years ago. This is what your destined for - strength, power, control... you're our boyking, Sammy. It's high time you finally take your throne." Dean hummed, and Sam shook his head desperately.

Cas where the hell are you?!

"No, no please. I- I can't. I don't want to be, please don't." He was begging a demon, and it felt low, embarrassing. But he couldn't do this. He couldn't get back on the stuff, he'd quite literally rather die first.

"Shhh, it's ok Sammy. You remember it, right? How delicious it was. How strong it made you feel pumping through your veins. Let's be honest here, if I hadn't stopped you back then? You'd still be chugging the stuff and have hell under the heel of your boot by now." Dean was talking about it in such a dreamy manner, and he lifted his hand to brush soothingly through Sam's hair.

Sam hated that his body relaxed to the gesture at all, swallowing down the urge to cry.

"Me and you. Forever. You rule hell and I sit at your side, your highness. Your faithful knight."

It was painful to want someone when that someone was sat right in front of you. A twisted, scary and horrible version of that person.

It was Dean's words, his touch, his smile. Things Sam had always responded to automatically. Things that made up all of his earliest memories and things that normally made him feel safe, and that ingrained desire to do everything his big brother asks him to was still very much present even if Dean wasn't fully human anymore.

Even if what he was asking would make him not fully human, too.

"Dean..." it came out more like a whimper than he intended, and those eyes filled with pity.

"You're ok, Sammy. I'm here. Just let it all go and stop thinking so hard."

His wrists were untied slowly, and Sam didn't even try anything. All he could do was watch Dean, feeling tiny and vulnerable and slightly terrified as the demon slid behind him on the bed, and Sam found himself resting against the solid chest of his brother.

"Drink, Sammy." Dean repeated, lifting his wrist up towards Sam's lips, with his free hand drawing lazy circles over his side.

Sam was shaking. A tremor was wracking his body, and Dean moved his hand up to run through his hair, and he felt lips press against the shell of his ear.

"Drink."

Sam let the flesh press against his mouth, letting himself latch on and suck as his fingers gripped at the limb being offered to him like it was his lifeline.

"Good boy."

Dean's eyes returned to black, but Sam couldn't see them anymore.

#sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #sam/dean #samdean #supernatural drabble #gencest #mywriting #demon!dean #bloodjunkie!sam #boyking!sam #gencest drabble

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the End

Summary: Y/N Winchester was a hunter like her brothers, following in their fathers footsteps. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

During a case in Georgia, you meet the Dixon brothers and after saving Daryl’s life against a Chupacabra, the two of you become close. But, when the zombie apocalypse starts, life as you know it changes forever.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language, blood, injuries, major character death (temporary death)

Chapter 5-

You laid on the unfamiliar mattress staring up at the ceiling, listening quietly to see if Dean and Cas' argument was finish before getting up.

Slipping your boots back on, you walked out your room and came face to face with Cas, who had just stepped out of Dean's room after their heated argument.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?" Cas asked, but by the look on his face he already knew the answer. "Still think he feels the same way about me?"

"Yes, but... just... just give him some time." You suggested and Cas sighed, but nodded.

Suddenly, Sam's bedroom door opened across the hall as he stepped out, but froze when he saw you and Cas standing there.

"Everything alright?" Sam asked, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Yeah, was just telling Cas that we should go back over the map, figure out where to go next." You lied and to your relief Sam bought it.

"Good thinking. We should probably hit the road today. The more time we waste, the less chance we have of finding anyone." He responded before he turned away and walked downstairs to go over the map again.

"Thank you." Cas sighed, bringing your attention back to him.

"You helped me keep Daryl a secret from Sam and Dean for months, it's the least I could do. C'mon, let's help my brothers get a plan in motion." You said and Cas nodded in agreement.

You spent the following few hours figuring out where to go next and in the end you had somewhat of a plan formulated. You were going to go to Daryl's first, his small town was the closest to your current location. Then, you'd head north to Minnesota to find Donna, then to South Dakota for Jody and the girls, but that was as far as you'd planned.

There were holes in the plan though. So many damn holes and 'what ifs' to even count, but it was the only plan you had, so you were going to do it.

You just hoped that none of your friends had ventured too far and were still alive and surviving near their old homes, otherwise... well the chances of finding your friends, the chances of finding your boyfriend would be nearly impossible.

Then...

You sat in the back of the Impala while your brothers argued about what to do about the Mark of Cain and you were sick of hearing them fight.

You wanted to put your headphones in and block them out with music, but you had left them in the bunker. Rookie mistake.

So, instead you shot off a quick text to Daryl asking what he was up to. It had been a while since you and Daryl had seen each other. With the whole Mark of Cain thing, you hadn't been able to visit and you refused to let him come to the bunker, not wanting to put him in danger if something happened.

-Hey, not much. Merle's driving me fucking crazy though.

You smiled softly at his quick reply before you started typing your own.

-What's he done now?

-Gave himself a black eye with can opener. He's wasted.

You rolled your eyes and had to stop yourself from laughing out loud after reading that. His brother was always doing stupid shit, especially while drunk.

-Wish I could have been there to see it.

You glanced up from your phone to find Dean eyeing you through the revision mirror, but he didn't say anything to you before he focused back on the road. At least him and Sam weren't at each other's throats anymore.

-Why don't you just teleport and come here?

You missed Daryl and wanted nothing more than to go see him, but you couldn't leave your brothers. Not with everything going on at the moment, not with Dean on edge with the mark.

You knew Dean was trying to fight it, but he was struggling. He wouldn't be able to fight it forever, you knew that, Sam knew that, Cas too. Which was why you had to stick together and figure out how to get the mark off him.

-I can't. On a case with my brothers.

You had told Daryl about the Mark of Cain. Hell, he had held you while you cried about your worries for Dean. But, you hadn't told him much else about it.

-This got to do that mark? Dean, okay?

-Yeah, but Dean's okay. We might have a lead on something to fix it.

-That's good. Be careful, Angel.

You couldn't stop yourself from smiling at the nickname. You weren't even sure when he had started calling you that, but it clearly stuck and you loved it.

"Who are you texting? You keep smiling at your phone." Dean suddenly said, drawing your attention away from your phone to find your brother looking at you through the revision mirror and you rolled your eyes.

"Nobody bro, mind your own business." You responded causing Sam to chuckle softly as Dean glared at him.

"Relax. I just haven't seen you smile lately... well not since the mark. But, you don't need to worry about that, I'm fine." He insisted and you simply nodded, but you knew he was lying.

-Good luck with drunk Merle. I gotta go.

-Thanks, I'm gonna need it.

You smiled softly reading it before you turned your phone off and shoved it in your pocket.

"So, what's this lead that Charlie found?" You asked, leaning your forearms on the back of your brothers seats before Sam turned around and started explaining.

"Alright, so get this."

Now...

You had been on the road for two days now, driving during the day and setting up makeshifts camps at night. Most of which were just the four of you squished inside the safety of the Impala, but it was better than nothing.

Dean was starting to get back to his normal self, he wasn't taking his anger out on anyone or more specifically Cas. He was more talkative and positive now, which just made everything a whole lot easier.

You weren't sure if it was the conversation he had with Cas that you overhead a few days back at Rowena's that changed his mindset or not. Maybe it was just the fact that you now had a plan and could actually do something, that had gotten him into a better mood. Either way, you were relieved and it was clear that Sam and Cas were as well.

It was midday when Dean had pulled the car over in the middle of some tiny outback town. The town was only small, a few shops, a bar and the grocery store that Dean had pulled up in front.

You had tried to stay clear of towns, but you were running low on supplies. Sam had found this small out of the way country town on the map and figured that would be your best place to scavenge.

After a quick perimeter check and with the help of your super hearing, you were satisfied that there was nobody dead or alive around the grocery store, so you went in.

"Jackpot!" Dean shouted, the second the four of you entered the store causing Sam to hush him, but Dean just rolled his eyes. "Relax, Y/N said nobody's here. Look at this place, something good was bound to happen."

Dean was right. This place had barely been touched. It was almost as if the apocalypse hadn't touched the store, the shelves were all practically full and for once there wasn't a single dead body inside either. Dean was right, you had finally hit the jackpot.

"Let's split up, it'll be quicker." Sam suggested and you all nodded in agreement.

You ended up following Cas down the back of the store, shoving food and supplies into your backpack along the way.

You were only in the store for less than 20 minutes before it all turned to shit.

You could hear something outside and you had a bad feeling you knew what it was.

"Cas." You whispered, getting the angels attention from where he was further down the aisle.

"What's wrong?" He instantly asked, turning back towards you noticing the alarm in your tone.

"Zombies. They're outside, I can hear them." You answered, keeping your voice down as you reached Cas' side. "We need to get my brothers and go."

You could hear the growls of the zombies getting closer in the background and you knew it was only a matter of minutes before they'd reach the grocery store.

You grabbed the backpack of supplies and threw it over your shoulder. You glanced over at the dirty window trying to see if you could see any zombies, but the window was covered in too much dirt and grime to see through.

You followed Cas out the aisle you were scavenging and rushed back towards the front of the store where you could hear your brothers bickering with each other in the canned food aisle.

"Hey, we need to go." You shouted in a soft whisper.

"Why? This place hasn't even been touched." Dean responded, reaching for another can on the shelf as he glanced over in your direction, but immediately stopped what he was doing when he saw the look on yours and Cas' face.

"How long do we have?" Sam asked when suddenly loud banging erupted from the side of the store.

"I'm guessing none." Dean grumbled, shoving the last can into the duffle bag before he zipped it up and threw it over his shoulder. "Let's go."

Without saying anything the four of you made your way to the back door just as the sound of glass shattering filled the air and you knew the zombies had broken through the front windows.

You adjusted the strap of your backpack over your shoulders as Cas went to open the back door, but it wouldn't budge.

"It's locked." Cas stated as he tried to turn the door knob, but it was no use. Shit.

The growls of the zombies got louder causing you to quickly spin around and your eyes widened when you realised how many of them had gotten through the broken window and were heading towards you.

"Guys." You warned, pulling your angel blade out as you stepped forward, putting yourself between your family and the zombies.

"Cas, move." Dean ordered and the next thing you knew, he kicked the door open.

You spun around and followed the guys outside, but nearly ran straight into the back of Sam.

"What-" You began to question, but your voice died in your throat when you saw the mass amount of zombies outside.

"Back inside!" Dean shouted above the loud growling of the herd.

You quickly turned about to rush back inside, but you came face to face with more zombies.

"Any other ideas?" Sam frantically asked as you raised your angel blade and took out the zombie in the doorway before slamming the door shut, locking the ones inside the store up before you turned your attention back to the rest.

They were everywhere, doubling in size by the second and before you could even blink you were surrounded.

Behind you was the brick wall of the store that was filled with zombies and in front of you was a herd of them for as far as you could see.

You were fucked and by the panicked looks on your brothers and Cas' face, they knew it as well.

"Seriously, any ideas at all?" Sam repeated desperately, pulling out his demon knife as you all took a step back until your backs were basically against the wall.

You heard Dean swear under his breath as looked down at the gun in his hand uselessly knowing that a single gun wasn't going to do anything.

The assault rifles in the Impala would do some good right now, but the car was on the other side of the store. There was no way you'd make it even five metres let alone all the way back to the car.

"I got a bad idea." You announced, holding your backpack out to Sam who frowned, but took it as you tucked your angel blade away and stepped in front of all of them.

"Y/N, what are you-" Cas started to ask, but you didn't give him chance to finish.

You quickly raised your hands, using your powers as your eyes started glowing bright purple. In an instant the pain in your head started, but you ignored it as matching purple swirls came from your hands and you sent a shockwave of power at the herd.

You weren't entirely sure what happened after that.

One moment the zombies were staggering towards the group of you and the next thing you knew, you had killed over half of them. The remains of their corpses splattered on the ground, completely destroyed.

You didn't get a chance to really process the fact that the other half of the herd were already rushing towards you before the world started to spin.

Searing pain suddenly shot through your head as blood dripped from your nose and the next thing you knew the ground was rushing towards you.

"Y/N!" You thought someone shouted, but all you could register was your head slamming against the corner of the brick wall as you collapsed to the ground.

The splintering pain in your head suddenly quadrupled as something wet began to slide down your forehead. You were pretty sure you had split the corner of your head open, but you were to focused on not passing out to care.

Black dots clouded your vision as you struggled to stay conscious, but you knew you had to stay awake.

You forced your eyes open to find Cas and Dean crouched down in front of you with panicked expressions. Their lips were moving and you knew they were trying to talk to you, but you couldn't hear anything above the ringing in your ears.

Cas quickly placed his hand over your forehead and it took your foggy brain a few moments to realise that he was trying to heal the gash on your head. But, when he pulled his hand away it was clear that it didn't work with all the blood smeared over his palm.

Suddenly, Sam grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, but your legs instantly buckled from underneath you and if it wasn't for him still holding you, you would have hit the ground again.

The world around you was still spinning even more when Dean appeared in front of you again, well three of him appeared in front of you.

Suddenly, Sam grabbed your arm and threw it over his shoulder, stopping you from collapsing.

Again, he was saying something, but you couldn't make out any of the words.

A moment later, Dean grabbed your other arm, throwing it over his shoulder before your brothers started to help you run in the opposite direction from the zombies, Cas taking the lead and taking down the few zombies in your way.

The next few minutes went by in a blur and before you knew it, your brothers were helping you inside some kind of building.

Slowly your hearing started to come back, the ringing in your ears lessening, but the pain radiating through your skull didn't. If anything it was getting worse and you weren't entirely if sure you were going to pass out or throw up.

Dean let go of your arm and disappeared for a moment, letting Sam lead you further into the building. He slowly helped you to the ground before he rushed back over to the front door to help close it as the zombies reached the building, their loud growling and banging coming from outside.

Your eyes fluttered shut and for a moment you considered just leaving them shut and drifting off into unconsciousness. No more pain, no more worry, no more anything. But, you couldn't do that. Your brothers needed you. Cas needed you.

Suddenly, a paid of hands cupped your face, snapping your eyes open to find Sam in front of you.

"Thank God." He sighed, dropping to the ground beside you as he pulled out a rag from his pocket and pressed it against your forehead causing you to wince in pain.

"Sorry. Sorry. Just don't pass out, please." Sam begged, holding the rag against the bleeding cut on your forehead.

"O-okay." You said weakly, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to get the world to stop spinning around you.

"We wait them out. Something might come by and distract them." Cas' voice suddenly said across the room.

You looked away from Sam to find Cas standing by the door, looking through the peep hole and you only just realised that you were in some kind of house. But, you could hear the herd outside, they were surrounding the building.

"And if we can't?" Dean asked, drawing your attention away from Cas to find your brother leaning against the wall across the room.

"Then we fight." Cas answered, stepping away from the door when the zombies continued to bash against it, trying to get in.

"We'll lose." Dean mumbled and you hated the sudden defeat and sadness in his tone. Dean had given up and if he had given up, you knew you were screwed. "I just lead us into another trap."

"Dean." Cas said, his tone softening as Dean pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the angel.

"Everybody's going to die, Cas. Everybody. I can't stop it. The herd will break through that door..."

"I know." Cas sighed and you tried to sit yourself up, to say something to them, but you were too weak. You couldn't.

"They're gonna kill us, and then Sam, and then Y/N... I'm sorry." Dean whispered, shaking his head.

For a moment nobody said anything as Sam gently removed the rag from your forehead no doubt to inspect the wound, but you were too focused on the look on Castiel’s face. He was sad... but happy at the same time and he almost seemed relieved as he took a step towards Dean.

"Wait, there is another way. We don't know if a bite can turn an angel. I can get through the herd and draw them all to me, give you guys a chance to escape." Cas suddenly said and your eyes widened.

No. He couldn't do that. Cas wasn't going to sacrifice himself for you guys. That was no going to happen.

"Cas, no." Sam said, speaking up for the first time causing the angel to look over at the two of you with sad eyes.

You forced yourself to sit up, leaning against your elbow as Sam quickly grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

"Easy." He whispered, not liking how much your were swaying despite half lying down and for a second you thought you were going to actually pass out, but you pushed through it.

"Cas... please- please don't." You mumbled, hating how weak your voice sounded.

You looked at the angel desperately, tears rising in your eyes making everything that was spinning around you even harder to see, but Cas just shook his head.

"No." Dean suddenly said.

"Dean, it's the only way. We don't know if a bite will turn me. I'm an angel. It's worth a shot." Cas insisted, turning his attention back to him.

"It's not worth your life!" Dean exclaimed.

"Dean." Cas said taking a step closer to him as you struggled to keep your eyes focused on them, the pain in your head getting worse by the second. "The one thing I want in this life is something I know I can't have. But, I can do this. I can save you. All of you."

"What are you talking about, man?" Dean asked, but you knew what Cas was referring to.

You knew what he wanted and you also knew that if he just told Dean how he felt, he would be able to have it. Your brother may be an oblivious idiot, but he loved Castiel, that you knew for a fact.

"I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself in the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive. You're angry and you're broken. You're "daddy's blunt instrument" and you think that hate and anger.. that's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not, and everyone who knows you sees it." Cas began to say, motioning over to you and Sam, but Dean kept his eyes on Cas.

"Everything you've ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother and sister for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are." Cas continued to say, but stopped for a moment when the zombies outside started to get louder and the banging turned more rapid.

"You're the most caring man on earth. You're the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know." Cas added and even from a distance you could see the tears rising in Castiel's eyes.

"You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Sam. I cared about Y/N. I cared about Jack... but I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean." Cas admitted, his voice breaking as a silent tear trickled down his cheek.

"Why does this sound like a goodbye?" Dean asked, his voice rough fighting back his own emotions.

"Because it is." Cas responded with a sad yet happy smile, his eyes filled with tears. "I love you." Cas confessed and that was all it took for the tears in your eyes to fall.

You could see Dean shake his head slightly, his entire body tense as he stared at Cas and you knew your brother was in shock.

Hell, you were in shock and you were boarder-line conscious and you knew about the angels feelings too. You couldn't even imagine the thoughts that were running through Deans mind right now. Cas had just confessed his love to him and he was about to sacrifice himself...

"Don't do this, Cas." Dean begged.

Suddenly, one of the hinges on the front door broke off as the zombies continued to push against it and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before they busted through.

Dean quickly looked over his shoulder towards you and Sam. Tears threatening to spill from his eyes before he turned back to Cas.

"Cas, I-"

Dean didn't get to finish before Cas grabbed his shoulder with the hand that was still covered with your blood.

"Goodbye, Dean." He said as he pushed your brother across the room and out the way.

A split second later the front door busted open and Cas pushed the zombies back before he got through the door.

There was nothing you could do, but watch through teary eyes as the zombies bit and clawed at him through the trench coat. You could hear Cas' pained groans after each hit. But, he kept going.

He drew the zombies attention to him as he pushed through the herd and disappeared amongst them outside.

Suddenly, everything started to spin, white dots taking over your vision and the last thing you saw was Dean on the ground beside you. Tears welling up in his eyes with Cas' bloodied handprint on his shoulder before everything faded to black.

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-Gifs used are not mine. Credit to rightful owners.

Tag Lists- I will reblog with my tag lists, so if you wanted to be added to just let me know.

A/N- Please don’t hate me. I promise Dean and Cas will get a happy ending, just bare with me through this pain and trust me. This isn’t the end for them even though right now they all think it is.

Anyway,, next chapter the Winchesters finally reach Daryl’s home town, so stay tuned xx

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x Reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #Norman Reedus #dean winchester #castiel #Sam Winchester #supernatural #spn #Destiel

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thegeminisage · 3 years

Text

birthday meta for the birthday boy <3

[this version of the meta is behind a cut. if you’d prefer the no-cut version, it’s here.]

a fun little fanon from Ye Olde Days of spn (when seasons 1-5 were airing) was that sam always had the absolute worst birthdays. a big part of this is because sam’s birthday is in may. supernatural tends to align itself with “real time,” meaning that they like to use either the date the episode was filmed or the date it aired as the in-universe date, even when two canon dates conflict each other. (they’re so intent on doing this that they pretended the gap years between s5 & s6 and s7 & s8 right out of existence - season openers also usually tend to pick up right after season finales in-universe but still somehow be set several months later.) that means sam’s birthday tends to line up with the airdates on either season finales or episodes right before the finales, which means that every time sam gets a year old, shit hits the fan.

here’s a list of things that did happen or could have happened on some of sam's birthdays:

0-22: we don’t have much in the way as far as concrete dates go for preseries stuff, but it’s perfectly possible sam walked out all that bullshit the day he turned 18, even if i prefer to think he left at age 19 as that aligns rather tragically with some adam-related canon.

23: we don’t have any dates for the end of s1/opening of s2 either, but it’s likely that sam’s birthday took place between 1.20 (dead man’s blood) and 2.01 (in my time of dying). he could have been doing anything from hunting vampires to saving one of YED’s special children to almost shooting his possessed father to getting hit by a semi to using a ouija board to talk to his not-quite-dead brother.

24: here’s where the real fun starts >:) sam died in cold oak in 2.21 (all breaks loose pt 1) and in the episode he says he’s 23. but according to the lore (extra-canonical material), dean made the deal to bring him back on his 24th birthday...

25: ...which means that on his 25th birthday, he was forced to watch dean get dragged to hell...

25b: ...except that sam had TWO 25th birthdays, because mystery spot took place in february, and sam lived in an alternate timeline where dean stayed dead for 6 months, putting him well past may 2nd. which meant that the first time he turned 25, he was actually getting tortured by gabriel. while his brother was getting tortured (or torturing someone else) in hell.

26: 4.20 (the rapture) took place in very late april/very early may (the wiki says may 3, but that’s just a guess), and 4.21 (when the levee breaks) picks up immediately where it left off. so it’s not only plausible but EXTREMELY LIKELY that sam was locked up in the panic room suffering withdrawals when he turned 26, dude

26b: ...except that in 11.17 (safe house), bobby and rufus’s half of the episode presumably takes place at the same time during season 4, and he mentions sam and dean are in reno?? so you know they could have been doing that instead.

27: we have no hard and fast dates for the end of season 5, but it’s my personal headcanon that sam’s birthday took place during 5.22 (swan song), and he beat the devil and leapt into hell on the day he turned 27 - because at this point, why not. however, his birthday could also have taken place during either 5.20 (the devil you know) or 5.21 (two minutes to midnight), meaning he was reconfronting his old college pal who turned out to be a demon brady, or helping bobby and a human cas destroy the factory with the croatoan virus.

28: there’s a gap year between s5 and s6, so sam’s 28th birthday took place while he was soulless, hunting with the campbell family...

28b: ...except spn likes to say “a year passed” without adding one to the calendar, so sam ALSO had a 28th birthday during the airing of s6. there’s some conflicting information about s6′s timeline, so this could have happened anywhere from 6.18 (frontierland) to 6.21 (let it bleed). sam could have been doing anything from time traveling to fighting eve to grappling with cas going dark side to rescuing lisa and ben.

29: sam’s 29th birthday almost definitely took place during 7.20 (the girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo), during which he met charlie. in case you’ve forgotten, that was actually a great day for him - in a moment of true little brother antics and justifiable homophobia, he got to laugh at dean gay flirting with the security guard.

30: there was another gap year between s7 and s8, which means that sam spent the big three-oh with amelia richardson while dean and cas were in purgatory. he got to have a picnic!

30b: ...but since spn ignores gap years, sam ALSO had a 30th birthday during s8 (a big season for him). there isn’t an exact date for the episodes leading up to the finale, which takes place in late may, after sam’s birthday, so his birthday could have taken place in either 8.21 (the great escapist), where he nearly died of his trial-induced fever and confessed to dean that he always felt unclean, or during 8.22 (clip show), where he met sarah blake again after nearly a decade, only to have her die right in front of him.

31: the s9 timeline is pretty vague, but the best guess for this one is 9.18 (meta fiction), in which sam finally gets to confront gadreel, the angel who possessed him and killed kevin with his hands

32: the s10 timeline is also short on dates, so sam’s birthday could have taken place anywhere between 10.16 (paint it black) and 10.21 (dark dynasty). a few possible things sam could have been doing: dealing with a hunt involving soulless people, helping cas and bobby break metatron out of heaven’s prison, catching up with charlie and giving rowena the book of the damned, battling the cursed werther house (don’t click that unless you’ve seen the episode, the twist is TOO good), reuniting claire with her mom, or building charlie’s pyre.

33: the last quarter or so of s11 happens really quickly sequentially, every episode picking up soon after the last one left off, which means that sam’s birthday either took place at the very end of the season or the beginning of s12. it’s most likely he turned 33 either the day dean saved the sun and sam himself got shot and kidnapped by toni bevell, or a few days later when he was being held captive and tortured in her basement.

34: unfortunately, sam’s 34th birthday almost definitely took place during 12.21 (there’s something about mary). i was really hoping it’d be 12.22 so he could be kicking the bmol’s asses, learning lucifer was back, and hugging mary, but no...instead he was mostly likely learning that ketch had had eileen killed.

35: because of some weird canon, the timeline for season 13 is actually batshit insane and makes no sense whatsoever, which means sam’s birthday is really early this season - either during 13.17 (the thing) where he rescues his brother from a frisky tentacle monster or 13.18 (bring ‘em back alive) where he hangs out with gabriel and cas in the bunker. since that’s garbage, you’d be forgiven for ignoring canon and pretending sam’s birthday fell on one of the following episodes - 13.19 (funeralia) is very touching, as he and rowena clash and then make up with each other; 13.21 (beat the devil) has sam capturing lucifer, then dying and getting revived and captured by him; 13.22 has sam getting a little revenge by leaving lucifer for dead; 13.23, of course, has lucifer finally dying for good.

36: there’s no dates whatsoever on the back half of s14, so theoretically sam’s birthday could take place in any episode after 14.13 (lebanon). the likeliest and COOLEST candidate is for sam to turn 36 during 14.20, in which he shoots god himself point blank. other admittedly inferior scenarios include his stint as justin the 50s househusband, mary’s death, or putting jack in the ma’lak box.

37: we saw this birthday happen onscreen during 15.14 (last holiday) at a party thrown by mrs. butters. unfortunately, not too long after that, she wound up torturing him by pulling out his fingernails.

38: that’s this year! because the timeline of s15 is also so weird and vague, partially fucked up by covid changing the shooting/airing times, and because sam’s birthday is SO early in s15, it’s possible that he has another one this season, right at the end, or maybe post-canon, which means............................................

...................................................that he’s spending it with dean and jack and the newly revived eileen and cas, in the bunker or somewhere else he feels safe and loved :)

happy birthday, sam winchester <3 after all the unhappy ones...u deserve it

[spn masterpost]

#sam winchester #supernatural #liz's meta #liz's spn stuff #long post #never in my life have i had to fight so hard to post a meta #tumblr tried to delete this TWO TIMES

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bi-bard · 3 years

Text

Last Wish - Kelly Kline Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Last Wish

Pairing: Kelly Kline X Reader (platonic)

Requested: @hillie34

Word Count: 1,253 words

Warning(s): mentions of death

Summary: (Season 12) (Y/n) followed Cas and Kelly to their cabin on the lake. With their power, (Y/n) knew they could really help to protect the mom-to-be. However, there's one other gift (Y/n) can give to her.

Author's Note: HEY! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account and it's a whole script)

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"Kelly," I said, walking into what was going to be Jack's nursery.

She was resting in the rocking chair I had built and put in the corner. I figured that Cas would get to use it when Jack was born.

I followed Cas and Kelly when she stole the impala. I was an old friend of the Winchester but I didn't stay in the bunker for personal reasons.

The three of us ended up at a cabin on the lake. It was lovely and calming. Cas and I had since committed to protecting Kelly. Her wish was to have this child and Cas thought it was a good idea, so I trusted him.

"I made you some tea," I offered her the mug. "I snagged some when Cas was buying that truckload of diapers."

"Thanks," she grinned, taking the mug from my hand.

"The nursery is gorgeous," I said, looking around at all the artwork on the wall.

I pulled up an extra chair that I left in there the other day and sat down next to Kelly.

"Yeah," Kelly looked down, clearly sad. "I'm sure you and Jack will be spending a lot of time in here."

I stammered. I still didn't know how to talk about Kelly's death. She was so kind that the idea made my stomach churn. I guess that happens when anyone thinks about death.

"I can't thank you and Castiel enough," she grinned. I grinned back. "I just... I just I wish could see him. See who he's going to be."

We fell into silence. Kelly calmly sipped her tea. I sat in thought. I was weighing my options. I wanted to give her this. It's the one thing I could actually do to help her.

"A few years ago," I started explaining, "There was an emergency. An angel was after the young versions of Sam and Dean's mom and dad. I was able to use my power to project myself into the past and protect them. It's a long shot, but I might be able to do that and send us to the future. We could try and see Jack."

Kelly looked at me in shock, "You could do that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, forcing a chuckle. "But I could try."

"I'd like that," she nodded.

"Finish your tea then," I replied, smiling fully. "I'm gonna go grab Cas. He'll probably be able to help us if this goes wrong."

I came back a few minutes later, Cas in tow. He checked on Kelly, asking if she really wanted to try this. She nodded, saying that she wanted to know that Jack was okay.

"I'll be here to help however I can," Cas promised me. I nodded, sitting back down where I had been. He grabbed the now empty mug from Kelly.

"Are you ready," I asked her. She nodded. "Close your eyes."

I reached out, grabbing one of her hands and reaching to touch her stomach. I didn't know if there was a correct method for something like this. I was just following my instincts as best as I could. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, we were in one of the rooms in the bunker. Curled in the bed was a young man with blonde hair. He had a laptop sitting next to him with Star Wars playing.

Kelly was standing next to me, eyes still shut.

"You can open your eyes now," I whispered. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking at her surroundings. "We're in the bunker."

"Can he hear us," she asked, pointing at the man.

I nodded, remembering when I accidentally scared the crap out of a young John Winchester because I didn't think he could hear me.

I walked over slowly, kneeling by the bed, pausing the movie, and shaking his shoulder. He slowly blinked as he woke up before smiling at me.

"Hi (Y/n)," he said with a smile.

"Hi... Jack," I replied hesitantly. He just smiled wider before going to sit up. "There's someone here to see you."

I stood up and walked back a few steps, I held a hand out to Kelly. Jack recognized her immediately.

"Mom," he said softly. He had tears in his eyes.

"Hi Jack," she smiled, also on the verge of tears.

His shoulders shook slightly and she walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. I moved the laptop for them so they could hug and have a moment together. I plugged it into the charger and shut the lid. We gave him a desk. Nice.

Now, since Jack was in the form of an adult, I assumed he was an adult and it was about 20 years in the future. Then, I saw the year. 2018. Jack should be a year old. I decided to avoid that line of conversation.

"How are you here," Jack asked, finally pulling back from his hug with Kelly.

"(Y/n) brought me," she explained. "I wanted to see you."

She reached over and grabbed his hand.

"I watched the video you made me all the time," he mumbled. "I wondered what you'd be like."

I smiled at the two.

"(Y/n) has been protecting me and helping me with my powers," Jack added happily. "I'm gonna be a hero, like them."

"(Y/n) is a hero, huh," Kelly threw me a kind look over her shoulder.

Jack continued telling stories about all of us, especially Cas. He had really bonded with him. Eventually, he stopped talking, now looking kind of sad.

"I always think about you," he said softly. "I always want to know that I'm making you proud."

"Oh, I am," Kelly promised, touching the side of his face. "Jack, you are so kind and good. I am so proud of who you've grown to be. I love you so much, sweetheart. Never forget that,"

He nodded with a smile, eyes filled with tears again.

They hugged again. Kelly and I chuckled when Jack let out a yawn.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. Kelly shook her head.

"Lay down," she mumbled. Jack listened to her and Kelly fixed the covers over his shoulders. She leaned down and kissed his temple. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you too," he replied.

In a matter of minutes, Jack had fallen asleep again.

I walked over, touching his forehead. Now, he would think it was a very nice dream instead of seeing his mother travel in time.

"Ready to go," I asked softly.

Kelly leaned over, kissing his forehead again, mumbling that he loved him again before standing up and nodding.

I grabbed her hand. We both closed our eyes.

We woke up in the nursery again. I stood up and Cas hugged me. I hugged him back.

"Are you both okay," he asked as he stepped back. I nodded but Kelly didn't respond. "Kelly?"

She stood up and pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back and felt her shake as she cried.

"Thank you," she said through her tears. She moved back, touching my shoulder with one hand and her stomach with the other. "Thank you."

I was crying now too, "You're welcome."

I looked at her stomach, thinking about the life in there. He was going to look up to me and rely on me for help. I was going to be this kid's protector... his hero.

Dear God, please don't let me let this kid down, I thought as Kelly hugged me again. Please just let me make Kelly proud.

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#supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #kelly kline imagine #kelly kline fanfiction #kelly kline x reader #jack kline imagine #jack kline fanfiction #jack kline x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

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t4tdeanwinchester · 3 years

Text

I think if your best friend and love of your life was dying right in front of you because he was finally happy, you’d probably try your hardest to make him miserable if it would literally save his life. *five minutes after having that thought* okay here’s 1.2k words about it

~~~

Dean thinks, for a moment, that the world is ending. There’s a ringing in his ears and his vision is blurry and his whole body is shaking; he feels like he’s dying. But Cas is still smiling and distantly, Dean can still hear Death at the door. So no, there’s no earthquake and no hurricane. The whole world isn’t ending. Just Dean’s.

“Don’t do this Cas,” he says. Why isn’t he saying anything else? Saying me too, saying you’re beautiful, saying love, I love you, I love you too? He opens his mouth and what comes out instead is, “You selfish asshole. Why are you doing this?”

It occurs to Dean, over the rushing of blood in his ears, what he needs to do. Because it’s always been this, hasn’t it? He’d rather hurt Cas, break his heart, break him apart, then let him go. He’ll hurt him if it’ll make him stay, and he’s the selfish asshole for that. He knows that. He keeps going anyway. It’s like he can’t stop himself. It’s like he doesn’t want to. If he can just make Cas miserable, he won’t die, won’t leave him again.

“You think you’ve got a monopoly on deathbed confessions?” Dean’s voice is hoarse, but the anger he doesn’t have to fake. “Well you can take your speech and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” Dean’s breathing is getting faster, more frantic, and he’s waiting, waiting, waiting for Cas’ face to shutter, to break, to close off. He’s still smiling, though it’s muted by something somber. Pity, maybe.

“Dean,” he starts, and the way he says Dean’s name, like it’s a blessing to hold the letters in his mouth, like he could make a home out of one single syllable… well, it breaks something in Dean. The ringing stops with a sudden clarity, and then he can hear all of the silence and all of the time escaping the room, and he knows his best friend is going to die.

“Fuck you,” he snarls, and he can’t say the words fast enough. “You’re really so damn stupid. You think this is gonna end with me sweepin’ you off your feet?” Dean’s grasping at straws, and where he tries to put venom into his voice, there’s nothing but heartbreak, deep and sad and– well, heartbreaking. He’s desperate now. He’ll say anything to break Cas’ heart like he’s breaking his own. “What, one last kiss before eternal rest?” Dean’s sneer is broken and ugly, because now all he can think about is kissing Cas, how much he wants to get close to him, feel him warm and solid and alive against him so he can prove he’s still breathing. How he’ll probably never get to. He’s the damn stupid one. “Bet you want to,” he croaks, and oh, he wants. Aches for it, desperately. He realizes now he’s crying. He has been for some time. “Bet you wanna kiss me,” his voice breaks, and finally, Cas is striding forward, arms coming to cradle Dean where he sags like all his strings have been cut.

“I do,” Cas says. Dean clutches at the back of his coat. “I do.” His voice is raw but he’s holding Dean sweetly, like it’s a privilege rather than a burden, like he’s happy to bear him.

Dean feels sick, like the world is a teetering merry-go-round, spinning faster and faster until all the horses come loose. They’d watched Marry Poppins the other night, Dean and Cas and Jack and Sam. Jack had asked if they could get a horse for the bunker after watching the race scene, all the horses coming to life and breaking free from their confines. Dean had smiled at the kid, at how much he looked and sounded and acted like Cas. He can’t think about Jack right now, not least of all because he knows what it’s like to live with one parent missing, to grow up with devastation hanging heavy everywhere you go. He can’t have that happen to his kid.

“You can’t leave, Cas,” he says wretchedly. “I hate you, you can’t leave me.” They both know what Dean’s saying when he says he hates him. One of Cas’ hands comes up to hold Dean at the back of his neck, palm cupped gently around his skull as he clutches him close.

And then, quick like lightning, like getting the rug pulled out from under your feet, quick like the heart monitor going flat: Cas pulls away roughly, creating space between them, holding Dean’s shoulder one last time, body tight with the intent to shove him away.

“Goodbye, Dean,” he says, taking a moment, perhaps indulgently, to bring his unoccupied hand across the void between them to rest lightly on Dean’s cheek, his forehead, his mouth. He’s touching every part of Dean’s face, wiping away his tears in so much as he’s mapping the expanse of him, like he might forget. And all Dean can think is that there’s going to be no more Marry Poppins family movie nights. No more Jack asking for increasingly strange pets and Cas indulging him when Dean refuses. No more singing softly along with Julie Andrews because Mary used to sing those songs to get him to sleep, and sometimes it was the only thing that would get baby Sammy to calm down after a long night on the cold road and it’s still got the only lullabies he can remember – no looking over to see Cas watching him softly, blue and green and purple light from the TV splashed across his face. No more wondering what would happen if he’d reached out to hold Cas’ hand. He should’ve tried. He should’ve held anything Cas would’ve been willing to give him, and even the things he didn’t want to give. He’d hold all of him now, if he could.

“I hate you,” Dean whispers, voice like brittle bone, broken in several places. Cas’ fingers take one last trip to the dip of Dean’s mouth before he pulls his fingers back, tightens the hand holding the shoulder that he’d claimed over a decade ago, holding on tight to the body that’s always been his, even before Dean himself realized it.

With a shuddering smile and a quick shove, Cas has Dean falling against the wall.

The door bangs open.

Black emptiness is starting to ooze in through a rift in reality.

“I hate you,” Dean says, not so much a shout but a sob, “I hate you.” He’s like a broken record, he’s like a sinner in the gallows. This is his Hail Mary. Too bad Cas is fluent in prayer. Too bad he understands what Dean’s really saying. Too bad it isn’t enough to make him stay.

“I know. Dean,” Cas says as the Empty frames him, making him look, for one last time, winged. Ethereal. Something else entirely. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you.” Cas goes on mouthing the words to him, even when he stops being able to talk. There’s empty in his gut and his mouth and his eyes but the shape of him is still smiling. The shape of Cas is still mouthing I love you. And then the blackness surrounds him, consumes him, and Dean tracks the shape of his face until it is nothing but darkness, until nobody is there in the room but himself.

The grief is so thick Dean thinks he’s going to choke on it. He thinks his world is ending. He’s crying again. He thinks maybe he’s the one that died.

So it goes.

#lol i wrote this in my notes app so it's probably chalk full of mistakes. anyway i started crying in calc writing this so uh. here take it #i couldnt help doing the slaughterhouse five ending.... apologies in advance #its the obligatory 15x18 rewrite!#i hope this isnt terribly out of character. lol. sdkfjhsdk #im sorry i havent written fic in like years this might be awful. who knows #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fanfic #fanficiton #spn #supernatural #apollo writes #apollo.txt #destiel fanficiton

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kbuggg3 · 3 years

Text

~S u p e r n a t u r a l~ CasxReader: “Crazy In Love”

IMAGINE: After risking their lives for a mysterious piece of clay, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) get a call that something happened to Cas at the hospital (s7 e21).

“Well, c’mon Meg! Give us more details! Can you at least tell me if he’s ok?... What do you mean you don’t know?” Sam angrily spoke into the phone and (y/n) and Dean exchanged scared looks as they anxiously waited to hear about the news of their best friend. Approximately an hour before all of this stress and anxiety appeared the Winchester brothers and their closest companion (y/n) Singer were hiding out in an old, abandoned jail staring at the block of clay that lay on the dust covered table.

“So what I’m getting from this is… we risked our lives for a lump of clay?” Sam looked at the girl and shrugged with a reply, “There’s gotta be more to it than just that. I mean, the Leviathans were treating it like Dean treats his car!”

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “Don’t judge me.” Sam just rolled his eyes while (y/n) continued to think aloud. “Maybe there's something inside?” This earned an odd look from Dean and she huffed in frustration. “Wha- Well I don’t know! I’m running out of ideas. That’s all I’ve got goin’ on up here unless one of you can think of something better.” Sam and Dean shared a look then shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Dean grabbed a hammer and Sam grabbed 3 pairs of goggles, handing them out to each person. After making sure everyone had their protective eyewear on, Dean brought the hammer up into the air and struck hard on the block of clay. The moment the hammer hit the clay, causing pieces to fly everywhere, a crack of lightning, a quick rumbling of thunder was heard, and the rusty building shook for a second. The three looked at one another without speaking a word and Dean soon continued on again. Once again, he struck the clay with the hammer and thunder rumbled and the building shook. “Um is it just me or is-”

“Ya,” Sam cut in, interrupting (y/n). “That’s not normal.” Dean debated whether or not he should continue. Whatever is in this block of clay was important enough that Leviathans were willing to sacrifice their lives for it. This could be something to end the apocalypse and put a stop to the death of mankind forever. With that, Dean repeated the actions of striking the clay with the hammer despite the loud thunder, bright lightning, and violent shaking of the building.

Eventually everything went quiet and all the clay was completely gone. (y/n) opened her eyes and released her tight grip on Sam’s arm while Dean let out a long breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. The three stare down at what used to be a big pile of nothing and what now appeared to be a tablet. The tablet had golden writings or etching in it but neither one of them could make out what it was saying. It looked as if it were written in another language.

Before any of them could say one word, Dean received an urgent call from Meg that something had happened to Castiel back at the hospital and told them to meet her there ASAP. So that's what they did. Dean stuffed the tablet in a duffle bag and they got into the impala and drove off.

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After they arrive at the hospital and sneak past a few security guards, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) finally make it to the door of Castiel’s hospital room, where Meg stands chewing her finger nails and pacing back and forth. She heard multiple footsteps and looked at the group with a sigh of relief. “It took you long enough. He’s in here.” Meg opened the door and nodded her head, giving them the ‘ok’ to step inside. They walk in and see Cas staring out the window. “Hey, Cas?” The angel slowly turns around, faces them, and replies with a short “Hello, Dean.”

Castiel looks at Sam and smiles softly. “Sam,” he says with a short nod. “Hey, Castiel.” Cas’s eyes move from the tall man to the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. That’s (y/n) Singer. Of course he has met her before. She is the daughter of Bobby Singer and an old friend of the Winchester family. She was there when Cas first connected with Dean and the taller brother and ever since then he has had feelings for her that he, as an angelic and Godly being, couldn’t quite comprehend.

To a regular human being this was a natural thing, but Cas has never experienced anything like what he experiences when he’s around her. When she flashes her perfect pearly white smile at him, he can’t help but stop mid sentence and stare at her and her beautiful eyes. When she accidentally brushes his shoulder as they pass each other or touches his shoulder as she speaks softly to him or takes his hand for comfort, his face turns color and his stomach feels like he just swallowed a bunch of butterflies. And her laugh… oh her laugh… how it makes him wish he could listen to it forever. The way she scrunches up her nose as she projects this beautiful human noise from her perfect lips makes the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a way he isn’t all too familiar with. Cas has no idea what was happening to him. If anything, he thought he was sick. But a regular human being would classify that as love. Cas was in love with (y/n).

Cas struggled to find the right words to say as he approached her and stuttered an awkward, “Hello, (y/n).” The girl fought the urge to throw herself onto him and wrap her arms around his neck, breathing in his comforting scent as she embraced him in a big hug. Instead she put a smile on her worried face and spoke to him in the soft, calming tone that he was very fond of. “Cas.” They stared at each other for a while until Dean awkwardly cleared his throat to break some of the tension. “Look at you, walking and talking. That’s great right?”

Cas forcefully peeled his eyes away from the goddess before him and looked at Dean with a goofy smile on his face. The angel approached the oldest Winchester with his pointer finger towards him. “Pull my finger.” Dean looked from the outstretched finger to Cas with a very confused look on his face. “I’m sorry. What?”

“My finger,” Cas explained. “Pull it.” Dean stood there awkwardly for a moment before gripping Castiel’s finger. Cas raised his eyebrows at him as he waited for Dean to pull his finger and sure enough he did. The moment Dean did as he was told, all the lights in the room bursted and everyone jumped at the sudden noise. All of the shattered glass fell to the ground and the group stared at Cas in disbelief as he giggled to himself.

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

“So let me get this straight. You said you remember who you are? What are you?”

“Yes of course,” Cas replied. He then gasped and turned around as if he were reminded of something he meant to say a while ago. “Outside today in the garden I followed a honeybee. I saw the welt of flowers. It was all right there! The whole plan! There’s nothing to add.” (y/n) quirked an eyebrow as she watched his gorgeous blue eyes twinkle with excitement like he just got finished riding a roller coaster or running a marathon.

“And he’s been like this for how long?”

“He’s been like that naked guy at the raver ever since he woke up. Totally useless.” Meg replied and the girl just nodded her head in response. “Well, Cas, how are you feeling? Do you feel any different from before?” Cas looked to (y/n) with a look of adoration as he spoke, “Would you just look at her. My caretaker.” The brothers looked to (y/n) with questioning looks as she gave the same look to the clueless angel in front of her. “All of that thorny pain. So beautiful.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy in love,” Cas said, sighing contently as he continued to stare at her sweetly. Of course (y/n) was flattered by this sudden affection from the angel she’s been crushing on since she first laid eyes on him, but he is obviously not in his normal Cas-like state. For all she knows this could all just be a misunderstanding and when (or if) they get him back to normal he wouldn’t even remember saying those things. After giving out long, awkward hugs and sharing random fun facts about cat penises, Cas revealed how exactly he became like this and that the tablet was The Word of God. “Ok well what does it say?” Cas crossed his arms and stuck out his lip. “No.”

“What the- Cas how old are you? Just read the friggin’ tablet!” Dean yelled frustrated.

“No.”

“Cas I swear on everything sacred if you don’t read this tablet right now so help me i will-”

“ Cas,” (y/n) spoke, cutting Dean off. Cas uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture as his facial features softened.

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you please try your hardest to read this tablet? It is very important that we find out what this says. You may even help save the world if you dooo,” (y/n) bribed, singing the last part. When Cas didn’t respond she pushed a little more. “Please, Cas? It would mean the world. Can you do it for me?” She ran a hand down his arm gently as she batted her eyelashes. Cas was sure his knees were going to give out on him any second now. He grabbed her hand off of his arm and clasped it tight with both of his hands, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I would do anything for you (y/n).

Cas held up the tablet and stared blankly at it for a while. Dean began to grow impatient. “Well?” Cas cleared his throat as he began an attempt in interpreting. “Uhhhh tree…” he looked around at everyone for a second. When no one responded and continued to stare at him, obviously expecting more information, he looked back to the tablet and continued. “Horse. Fiddler crab. I can’t read it. It wasn’t meant for angels.”

“Alright,” Meg cuts in. “This all sounds bad. What are you two idiots doing with the word of God? Let me see that thing.” She takes a step towards Castiel but is stopped when Dean tells her to back off. “C’mon Dean. It’s my life on the line too.” Cas froze and stared at the ground uncomfortably with wide eyes. “I said. Back. Off. Meg.”

“Dang it enough of this ‘demons are second class citizens’ crap!” Cas suddenly cut in saying “Don’t like conflict” and teleported out of the room, letting the tablet drop to the ground and break into 3 pieces. “What the h*ll was that?” Meg just scoffed and crossed her arms. “You heard him. He doesn’t like conflict.” She flashed a cocky smile causing Dean’s jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists.

“You know what? We don’t have time for this crap. (y/n), you deal with the tablet, Sam, you do research on how to read this friggin’ thing, and I’ll go talk to Cas.”

“Actually, Dean.” (y/n) cut in making Dean stop at the doorway and look at her. “Maybe I should go with you to talk to Cas. You and him do have a special bond but I have a strong feeling that the little amount of patience you have isn’t going to be enough at the moment.” Sam and Meg chuckled slightly but Dean ignored them. “Ya I guess you’re right. Alright. You come with me. Sam, will you please pick up the… “Word of God”? And do not let that demon get the tablet.” Sam looked at Meg awkwardly and shrugged and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

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

After finding Cas in the main room sitting quietly at a table, Dean sat in front of him and tried to talk to him while they played a game of “SORRY!”, requested by the lost angel himself. “Alright, Cas, where can we find this ‘Metatron’ guy? Is he even still alive?”

“I-I’m sorry. I believe you have to go back to start.” (y/n) giggled, earning a glare from the oldest Winchester, making her cover it up with a cough. Dean looked at the board game in front of them on the table where Cas was pointing and begrudgingly moved one of his pieces back to start like instructed. He then proceeded in his attempt to reason with the angel. “Cas, this is important.” Cas once again pointed to the board, signalling that it was now Dean’s turn to pick up a card from the stack that was located in the middle of the board.

Dean angrily picked up a card, read it in his head, threw it down, and moved his piece to where the card told him to. “I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. Do you understand?” (y/n) could tell he was growing angry and very impatient with Cas. She quietly stood against the wall, watching anxiously. “We live in a sorry universe.” Cas held up a card that said ‘SORRY’ on it and continued to explain.

“It is engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from your misfortune?” When he spoke he moved pieces around where they belonged and carried on as if he were simply talking about the weather versus the end of the world as we know it. There was no concern or emotion or feeling in his voice as he talked- whereas Dean and (y/n) held on to every word he said as they listened intently. “But these are the rules. I didn’t make them.”

“You made some of them. When you tried to become God. When you cut that hole in the wall.”

“Dean…” The two sat there looking at each other for a while before Cas continued. “It’s your move.” At this Dean slammed his hand on the board game and swiped it off the table forcefully. “Forget the damn game!” Cas looked down at his lap meekly and (y/n) took this as her que to intervene. “Dean! Woah, woah it’s ok. Calm down.” She put a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing up and down making Cas stare. His mood quickly changed from shy to jealous as he watched (y/n) comfort Dean instead of him. Dean shook his head and stormed off leaving (y/n) and Cas alone. (y/n) took the seat Dean had previously been sitting in and looked to Cas with desperate eyes. Cas took notice of this and sat up straight with his hands folded on the table, giving her his undivided attention.

“Let's forget the game for one second. Is that ok with you?” Cas cutely looked to the side for a moment as he thought about the answer then nodded his head. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile at him. Although he wasn’t his true self right now she couldn’t help but notice how helpless and adorable he was being. He looked like a lost puppy. “Is there any way at all that you can help us?” Cas sadly shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry (y/n). I really am.” She could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It’s not your fault, Castiel.” He noticed her slumped shoulders and sad expression and thought of ways to try and cheer her up.

“M-Maybe when this whole thing is over with I can take you to a park.” (y/n) laughed making Cas’s cheeks heat up. “The park?”

“Ummm yes? Wait, no. I meant to say the strip club. Or was it the bar?”

“Cas, what are you talking about?” she giggled. “Well, quite some time ago Dean told me that if I liked a girl I should take her out somewhere. That and to wear protection, which is why I bring my angel blade everywhere I go,” Cas stated as a matter of factly and (y/n)’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hold back a laugh. “But it appears to me that I’ve forgotten where exactly I’m supposed to take you.”

“Wait a second. You like me?”

“Duh,” Cas chuckled and snorted as if she had told him a funny joke. “(y/n), I have been very fond of you since the day we met. Over the years you’ve made me feel things that I'm sure no angelic being has ever had the opportunity to experience. At first I was scared I was becoming ill with all the odd sensations in my stomach when you’d laugh or the muscle pains in my cheeks from smiling so much when you’d speak to me or even my face getting hot when you’d accidentally touch my shoulder. But after getting some professional advice from Dean I realized that I am truly in love with you.”

(y/n) had no idea what to say. She couldn’t believe that the angel she had fallen for after all these years had confessed to being in love with her. “Well in that case, maybe you’d like to take me to the ‘Bow Tie Bar’ right down the street here sometime.” Cas looked up, surprised that she accepted his invitation and nodded quickly. He was like a kid in a candy store. “Alright then. It’s a date.” A big smile made its way to Cas’s face along with a red tint to his cheeks. “D-Date. Right. Yes.” (y/n) laughed at his nervous stuttering and they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. She then watched as his smile slowly faded and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Um, (y/n)?”

“Yes, Castiel?”

“Why exactly does the bar have a bow tie?”

#castiel #cas #supernatural #spn #cas x reader #castiel x reader

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cassiecasyl · 3 years

Text

sometimes you just don’t know the answer (wait for me)

Anyone remember this fic? Well, I’ve finally finished it!!!!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

or read the whole fic on ao3!!!!

chapter 4: what died didn’t stay dead

Are we all lost stars trying to light up the dark?

- Lost Stars by Keira Knightley

It’s an old tale, and that’s not how it ends.

Long, shadowy fingers wrapped around Castiel’s wrists, pulling him back, slowly and deliberately leading him to be devoured by the Empty. Dean could almost hear the universe’s malicious laugh. He’d be stripped of his love once more.

No. Ancient, familiar rage boiled his blood and he narrowed his eyes, glaring at the shadows. It was bleeding love, protective and fierce. There was no fear, because everything was already on the line — Dean had nothing left to lose. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, at nothing and everything in particular. They couldn’t lose now. Not with him standing in the light as Cas succumbed back to the dark — it wasn’t fair.

Dean did what he couldn’t back then, what shock and fear and disbelief — and perhaps, above it all, cruel, cruel, capricious Gods — prevented; he reached forward, and where he touched, he brought light with him, breaking into tiny rainbows against the universe’s shards. He disentangled Cas’s hand and grabbed them himself, holding on and never letting go.

The fabric of stars was in their hands, being overwritten as they stood there. “You’re not leaving,” Dean promised, and Cas looked up at his sun that lit up the world. Finally, Dean pulled him close, holding him in the here and now, just tightly enough to make sure that no dust escaped his vessel. “Not on my watch,” he whispered defiantly, his voice breaking, and Cas almost chuckled.

I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

Dean breathed in his angel’s smell — home with a whiff of honey. How the sweet substance always clinged onto the vessel was a mystery, but Dean wouldn’t want it any other way. Cas nuzzled his face into the side of his neck in retaliation and Dean relaxed for the first time in years. They were safe. They made it. Cas was solid and alive and real and here. Nothing could ever bring them apart.

Golden light drowned out the retreating darkness behind Cas, and the angel looked up in admiration, that childlike adoration in his eyes that had Dean absolutely smitten. Fuck, he thought, I’m in love. Laughter bubbled up his throat, carefree like the amber sky, the beginning of a new morning.

Maybe, in this moment, they found a new destination that would always lead them back to each other's arms, or maybe it had been there all along. Their journey was the same as yours, the same as anyone’s, yet so uniquely different — they’ve defied the universe, won a challenge set up to fail. At last, they knew the way, knew where to place their feet — where they’ve always been going. Home. Turned from promise to reality, alive between their arms. Home. The long way round.

Dean loosened their hug to look the angel into his eyes — the drowning blue a sky he was falling into, or maybe, flying. He gulped, suddenly nervous like a schoolboy standing before their crush. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, fighting against the instinct of wanting to escape these piercing, knowing eyes, because his words held so much weight. “I—,” he started and stopped. This was stupid. He’d said it before. He just let Cas out of hell through a deal that required true love. Why couldn’t he just say it?

“I know,” Castiel intervened, always wanting to comfort him. Bless the angel.

“No,” Dean shook his head, “I need to say it. Because you deserve to hear it.” Cas’s eyes were impossibly patient, giving him all the time in the world. He was the calm ocean against his forest fire, waiting for him like he’d done for years — Dean couldn’t let him wait any longer.

“I love you,” he said, whispering the promise into the sky so it may let it be known to the whole world; Dean Winchester loves Castiel. It was a simple fact of life, and he was found.

“I know,” Cas repeated his answer, smiling. The happiness in his eyes made it all worth it.

“Can’t believe you just Han Solo-ed me,” Dean joked, and Cas bellowed out a laugh.

“I love you,” Cas said, lost and found in the moment. His heart could’ve contently jumped out of his chest right now and Dean found himself thankful Fred Jones wasn’t around.

His soul had been broken and shattered countless times, but now, every last particle constructed a wondrous mosaic with the ragged pieces of Cas’s grace, cosmic consequences pulling them together rather than apart. One could’ve called it celestial, heavenly, divine even; but it was fundamentally human, terrene.

As sunlight found them, they found each other. They were stars in the daylight, no longer dancing around each other but colliding into one. Dean almost expected an explosion as their lips met — it would’ve been fitting. But, alas, there were no fireworks, no big announcment. It was the softest touch he had ever experienced, true like nothing else. It was the sunlight warming up their bodies, the sunlight Dean flew right into. It was something he’d never thought possible — love.

They were two stars finally found, lighting up the dark, walking away from the night sky, from a graveyard. Walking home. Their light burned on, growing to a calming, graceful blue as it filled their own sky. It was filled with a love that had done everything — it had defied the universe, defied doubts and fear — and had survived. But then again, what isn’t alive can never truly die. They’d pulled it into life, away from the realm of uncertainties, of will they, won’t they.

Cas was here, alive and well, and they kissed under a rainbow. It was a fairytale, and for a moment, Dean blinked, trying to wake himself up. This could all be a dream. He could wake up any moment and still be in their bunker, sunken to the ground in sorrow. Dean drew in a shaky breath, hoping with all his might that this was real.

“I’m here,” the angel said in his heavenly voice, cupping his cheeks. Dean grabbed onto his hand, holding on for dear life. “We’re real.”

Behind them, the sun disappeared behind clouds, revealing the familiar surroundings of the map room. Home. Dean looked back at Cas and smiled. With the angel at his side, it truly was home. They made it. Dean laughed in realization, and drew Cas close again, reuniting their lips. They made it.

“I really didn’t need to see that,” Sam, ever the cockblock, interrupted. As Castiel turned away, Dean pulled him back for a quick peck, just for the hell of it. He was allowed to do that. Holy hell, he was allowed to do that. No cage in hell would ever be able to contain his grin, not ever again.

“It’s good to see you back,” Sam greeted them before Dean could think of a good retort to his earlier line. He welcomed Cas with a hug, and then embraced his brother too. The last time Dean didn’t mind everything being so lovey-dovey must’ve been when they were kids. Or maybe in the Empty. Not that he’d admit that. He briefly squeezed Cas’s hand, just to remind himself that he was still there. The angel looked at him, smiling softly, and laid his head on his shoulder, nuzzling closer.

“Castiel!” Jack stormed into the room and into his father’s arms, uncaring about Dean right next to them, who huffed in complaint. “You did it.” The kid was all smiles and laughter — one of those moments that showed his age. Dean smiled. His family was all there. For the first time in decades, he felt happy.

“Of course we did it,” Dean said, his cheeks starting to hurt with how much he was smiling. He never noticed how he could see them at the edge of his vision when he smiled wholeheartedly — something he knew was promised to happen a lot more now. “Who do you take us for?”

“The most epic love story ever written,” Jack answered and Dean blushed. Suddenly, everything was too warm and too much all at once. Realization was still sickering in, overwhelming the man. He retreated slightly, away from Castiel, even though the angel felt like safety, love, everything he’s missed for years and didn’t even realize he needed.

“Shut up,” Dean mumbled, looking down.

“It’s okay,” Cas assured him. As Dean glanced up at him, the angel’s face was lit up in admiration for his adoptive son. He had never seen something more beautiful, more serene than the love in his angel’s eyes. He was glowing with love, and Dean was basking in his light. He was the stars blinking hope into the night, the moon guiding the hunter home, the sun over a long lost planet. Otherwordly, yet wholly home.

Dean would never believe his luck. A part of him would never believe this story, scoff if told to him, memories already bathed in doubt. He couldn’t trust his own mind, could he? Soothing grace touched his mind, assuring him once more. I heard you. I’m here. We’re what’s real. I love you.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Sam said, still chuckling. Dean’s head snapped up at his brother, being ripped so suddenly from Cas’s sweet nothings that hummed on quieter now. “I’ve known for years. It’s hardely something one can miss. Pretty much everybody knows.”

Dean opened his mouth. That’s what I’m worried about, he would’ve replied once before, and some shadows still wanted him to, but he found that he didn’t care. Something had changed, and that something was the angel at his side loving him unashamedly. Castiel, who was never afraid to love.

You changed me, Dean.

Yeah, you did too, bud.

Instead, he nodded at Sam in appreciation and wrapped an arm around his angel. They’d walked through hell and worse, and showed the universe their love, and the universe had bowed to it. There was nothing left to hide, and nothing they couldn’t beat together.

“Damn right we did it,” Dean whispered, making Cas laugh. Because if anyone could’ve done this, it was them.

#destiel #hadestown my beloved #quoth the raven; evermore #deancas #fluffy ending

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nonagesimus · 3 years

Note

happy birthday! are you still taking prompts? something sam and cas discussing the whole casifer thing maybe?

if you wanted something more like. productive and healthy, I am sorry. again this is roughly part of touch verse (but all you need to know is that they're in an established relationship).

tw for references to sexual assault (Toni Bevell) and slight unreality in the aftermath of the incarceration in 12x09

(AO3 Link)

The basement door had shut, the sound echoing around the walls, and Sam had been left with his family - Dean, and Cas, and the not-ghost of his mother, which – all of it was a story someone was going to need to tell at some point soon. But with just them, the British Men of Letters gone, he could slouch. Sag down. Not worry so much about letting the last couple of days show.

Cas said, “Sam,” soft and sad. “Let me heal you.” Then he stepped towards him, one hand reaching out and- and-

He’d been keeping his distance. They’d both been keeping their distance, or at least it had seemed like they had been. Maybe it hadn’t been enough time to tell, between Cas being Cas again and the ambush in the bunker. Because Cas was Cas again, Sam knew that, had known that, had held onto that like a lifeline and-

Cas reached out to heal him and he flinched. Froze. Sucked in a breath and held it because otherwise he was going to hyperventilate. Cas’ hand paused too, kept moving only when Sam nodded to him. A rush of grace healing him, then Cas stepped back, and Sam slowly let the breath out. Pushed himself upright, and Cas withdrew further, going to Dean. Sam flexed his newly whole foot against the floor and didn’t look at them.

There was a conversation happening. Mary - Mom? He didn’t know what to call her - was watching him like a hawk.

He needed to be outside. Out of this basement. The Brits had to be gone by now. He could hope they were gone. Mind made up, he strode to the steps - maybe Dean said his name, but his ears were ringing a little - and then up and out.

Daylight washed over him. Something in him relaxed, at the feel of sun on his skin again. It felt real. Real real, not the daydream of a bed, somehow both cloying and ephemeral. This was just the sun, warm on his skin, a reminder that the world was still there. He shut his eyes, breathed deep, listened to boots clomping up the steps behind him.

He already knew it was Dean, but hearing his voice say, “Sam,” before his hand clapped onto Sam’s shoulder still helped. “Ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, opening his eyes again. Mary was with Dean, and Cas was behind them, eyes searching.

“I’ll meet you there,” he said, nodding towards them, and he walked away first.

Dean, thankfully, kept going like nothing was awkward. Jerked his head towards the road. “Car’s this way. You good on bare feet or you want me to go get it?”

If Dean went for the car, Mom would probably stay with him. Sam couldn’t tell if he desperately wanted that or wanted to shy away, so he said, “I’m good to walk.” It would be good to move, anyway.

Dean kept up the chatter all the way to the Impala. Part clear relief, part recognising Sam wasn’t up to talking yet, and the silence needed to be filled.

“We’re about six hours out from the bunker,” he said, as they finally approached. “So, you’ve got time to catch a nap if you want to stretch out in the back. Unless you want the passenger side?”

Sam shook his head. “I’ll take the back.”

He did fall asleep there, listening to Dean and Mom talk in the front, an odd parody of his childhood. Like he’d slipped somehow slightly to the left, some world just adjacent to the one he’d grown up in. Shuddered awake as the car pulled into the bunker garage, took a moment to reassess. Still Dean driving, Mary in the passenger seat. Body still whole, after being healed. Feet still bare, clothes still crusted with sweat and blood. He sat up carefully, rubbed a hand over his face to clear away some of the grogginess.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you’re up,” Dean said. “Did they feed you in there? I can make you some food.”

They hadn’t, but Sam’s stomach rolled at the idea of eating. “I think I want to shower first,” he said.

“Yeah, dude, you reek,” Dean said. “Go clean up, I’ll get started on food.”

He hadn’t been planning on going back out but showered, in clean clothes, he thought Dean and Mary deserved that. Proof of life. Put on a good show, eat something, take part in the conversation. Something about the way Mom kept glancing between them twinged something - he thought about when he’d come back. Before he’d remembered, a year and half of blank space, Dean and Bobby both watching him with a weight he couldn’t parse.

It was something to focus on, and he took her Dad’s journal, and tried to say the right thing, and when she hugged him he almost broke.

So when he got back to his room and Cas was there, he was already fractured.

It wasn’t an intimate tableau. Cas was just standing by his dresser, the door to the room open, waiting. He swallowed hard, shook off the arrested momentum, finished walking inside.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Sam,” Cas said. Grave, and soft, and concerned. His hands twitched like he wanted to reach out. Sam looked away, felt tension fill his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

The least Sam owed him was honesty. “No,” he said, “but I don’t think that’s anything you could help with. Right now.”

Cas’ face only got graver, and Sam hadn’t really meant it like that. That it was Cas in particular that couldn’t help, but he couldn’t quite grasp the words to explain.

“I understand,” Cas said. “If that changes…”

“I’ll let you know,” Sam said, not sure how he’d be able to tell. “It’s not- you’re not- I’ll be fine, this was just-“ He shook his head. Just physical, but it hadn’t been. Not Cas, but it was. He didn’t even have thought, he was down to sentence fragments and a hollowed out feeling in his chest.

“I want to help,” Cas said.

“You-“ said Sam, “He-“ and he didn’t have to specify who he was talking about.

Cas looked wrecked. Looked ashamed, and part of Sam thought, good, and part of him wanted to bury his face in Cas’ chest and never let go, and all of him felt wrong.

He took a deep breath.

“When she started,” he said, “When she had me in that basement.”

Cas said, “Sam,” and Sam help up a hand to stop him.

“I told her. I told her I’d been tortured by the Devil himself,” his voice was more even that he expected it to be. “So, what did she think she could do to me?”

Cas’ hands twitched again. He didn’t reach out. Sam couldn’t tell if he was grateful or not.

“And I was right, y’know?” He shook his head. “She couldn’t do to me in two days what he could in two minutes. And what he could do with your face.” It looked like Cas was going to speak again so he shook his head again, cutting him off. “And I get it, Cas, I do, I know why you said yes. I just-“ His voice cracked finally. Throat clicked shut.

“I understand,” Cas said. “I- if you want space?”

Sam nodded, guilty at the helpless look on Cas, face. “I think space would be a good idea.”

Then Cas was gone too, and he was alone.

It hadn’t been a lie. Not really. Lucifer - the name tasted like stomach acid even when he was just thinking it - could take him to pieces far more efficiently than Toni Bevell could. And Sam couldn’t stop seeing it, the tilt of his head, the line of his jaw, the curve of his smile on Cas’ mouth when he’d reached into Sam’s chest, ready to close that fist and detonate. It was there all the time in the corner of his vision but-

But.

The door to his room shut behind Cas and even as he breathed a sigh of relief, her voice whispered, Was it good for you? into his ear.

His skin crawled. He felt dirty but he’d already showered, and the comfort would be nice but he couldn’t take another body in his bed.

—

Sam broke through the trees, saw Cas, and didn’t think before he went crashing into him. It had- they hadn’t- It had still been tense. Before Dean and he had gotten arrested. Sam had still been holding his distance, a little, Cas hadn’t been staying in his room like he used to, it had been…

There had been an equilibrium, if one that pleased neither of them.

But that was before the- the time. Sam couldn’t put a word to how much. The cell door had shut behind him and he’d taken in the concrete walls, the buzzing fluorescent lights, the quiet and- He didn’t need to count days. Days would pass with him or without him. He’d eaten when they gave him food, and shut his eyes when he wanted to sleep, and done push ups when he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

Tried to remember some of his college classes to pass the time. Twelve years ago, give or take a couple hundred. He didn’t remember much.

But they were out, and then in a forest that felt hyper-real, where the sky felt too far away, where Sam’s focus had to narrow down on getting out. Blood in his veins, breath in his lungs, cold steel in his hands. Cas appearing out of the trees like a dream.

Not a dream, Sam went crashing into him and he was solid, and warm, and holding Sam as tight as Sam was holding him.

A breath caught in his lungs. He somehow found strength to hold even tighter. Saw Mom over Cas’ shoulder. Hugged her too.

(It was bittersweet, it was probably going to be the last time, he didn’t want to explain it, Dean thought it was going to be him but Sam wasn’t letting him do that, it was going to be Sam, it was, it was, until it wasn’t, until Mom, until Cas’ blade plunged through Billie’s chest, and the broken deal felt bitter but Sam-

Sam was alive.)

The bunker was a relief and a cage. Familiar, and closed in, and concrete walls again. The buzz of the lights.

It didn’t smell like the cell had. Sam breathed in.

Cas was following him again. Trailing where Sam went, watching him like he was going to be tested on it. Like he didn’t know what to say. Neither did Sam.

He tried to ignore it. Showered, got into his own clothes again. Found Cas in his room, sitting on the chair beside his desk. It wasn’t unexpected. Something about it felt almost dreamlike. The forest, after the cell, that had been a shock to the senses. Too much, too different. The bunker, that was familiar. Even if he hadn’t been there in- in some amount of days. Definitely weeks. Maybe months. His mind shied away from the idea of asking. It wasn’t a dream though, he reminded himself.

“Sam?” He’d maybe been standing in the doorway too long. Cas looked concerned. “Should I go?”

He shook himself. “You don’t have to.” Moved further in to sit down on his bed. “Did you want to talk?”

Not the right thing to say - he saw Cas’ expression dim. “Yes, I- I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find you.”

“How could you?” Sam said, attempting a smile. “You were the one who hid us from angels in the first place.”

“I’m still sorry,” Cas said. “You were alone.”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve been,” Sam said, which was true even if neither of them wanted it to be.

There was still something urgent in Cas’ eyes, so Sam lightly patted the bed next to him. Cas shifted to the bed. Sam felt the mattress shift underneath him.

A voice in his head whispered, was it good for you? and he tried to push it away.

Took Cas’ hand in one of his, but didn’t touch him otherwise. Didn’t look at him. He heard Cas let out a long exhale at the contact. Dry skin to dry skin, the one thing that didn’t feel like a dream.

“I let you down again,” Cas said, quietly, and Sam shut his eyes.

He wanted to say which time? He wanted to tell him it didn’t matter. Wanted to turn and pull Cas into his chest and hold him. He couldn’t quite get himself to move.

Cas said, “Sam?” again, and Sam realised he was gripping Cas’ hand so hard he could feel the bones grinding.

He let go. Folded his hands in his lap. “Sorry.”

Cas touched his arm. “You need rest.”

Sam nodded, but didn’t say anything. With his eyes shut the lights buzzing sounded like the cell.

“Why did you kill Billie?” he asked.

“Because I’m not losing you,” Cas said. “And I’m not losing Dean, and I’m not letting you lose your mother. None of you deserve that.”

“Yes we do,” Sam said. “All of us have cheated death. We need to stop at some point. I don’t- I don’t want anyone else to die for me.”

Cas’ fingers brushed his face and he flinched. Opened his eyes. Cas had frozen, hand still raised. The tips of his fingers were wet. Sam realised he was crying.

“I couldn’t let you,” Cas said. “I- After Lucifer, we never…” He shook his head. “You were gone, and I couldn’t find you. I wasn’t going to lose you again right after I found you. I didn’t want you to go through any more pain.”

“I know I should say thank you,” Sam said.

“You don’t have to,” Cas said. “I know you don’t want to.”

“I miss you, Cas,” he said. “I miss you all the time. I want us to work through this, I do, just-“ He broke off. The buzz of the lights was giving him a headache.

“Sam,” Cas said. “Sam, I would do anything-”

“Yeah,” Sam said, wetly. “Yeah, I know.”

That was always the problem. Someone who would do anything. Anything smelt like Dean’s blood soaking into carpet, felt like hellfire, felt like grace crackling through his hands. Sam didn’t want anything.

“I’m gonna get some coffee,” he said, after a valiant attempt at composing himself.

“Sam, you should sleep,” Cas said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna get some coffee.”

#supernatural #sastiel #sastiel fic #samcas #samcas fic #sam winchester #castiel #my fic #birthday prompts

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thiscastielhasflown · 3 years

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day three of day two of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: movie night or baking dean just wants to watch brokeback mountain in peace and cas is there to enjoy the emotional roller coaster ride. (2.1k) [does contain spoilers of the movie's plot, you have been warned]

"Okay choose — Midnight Cowboy or Brokeback Mountain?"

Cas looks directly at Dean who is standing in front of him holding two DVDs and smiling wide with eagerness. To celebrate and commemorate their first Pride Month official out together, both collectively decided to watch a different LGBTQ+ themed movie every night during June (if at all possible).

Rather than the Winchester/Leahy family's normal Tuesday night movie routine, Sam and Eileen were more than willing to change up their usual viewing schedule — even helping to prepare and order movies unavailable to be streamed. But sadly this night coincided with their short weekend getaway trip up to Donna's cabin for a needed change in scenery from the bleak walls of the bunker. No matter how good the movie choice was going to be for those nights, nothing compares to either couple getting some alone time together.

Cas and Dean are left alone to watch a movie in the newly renovated 'Dean Cave' — now including a larger sectional couch (to fit everyone more comfortably), an LED monogrammed neon light of Dean's nickname from Cas, 'Titan', along with new pictures hung up from a recent family photoshoot, and a new stereo sound system all set up by Dean earlier that day.

While Dean was busy with that, Cas was in the kitchen trying out a homemade sourdough pretzel dough recipe — made with his own fermented starter — along with a batch of double-chocolate chunk brownies with lines of caramel crisscrossing across the top as their movie viewing snack for the night.

"I thought we were watching the Trixie Mattel documentary."

"I know we agreed on that, but I'm more into a gay cowboy sort of mood tonight. You feel me?"

Cas blinks, "I haven't felt you yet."

"Cas, it's a figure of speech. Stay on track. Which one do you want to watch?"

"Isn't Trixie a gay Western icon as anyway?"

Dean hesitates, "Well, I would say not exactly. Maybe because of her music style and love for Dolly—"

"Parton, we've listened to her music before," Cas interrupts.

Dean smiles, "Yes we have. We've listened to Trixie too. So I guess it depends on who you ask if they’d categorize her as a modern gay Western icon in the drag business. We're sidetracked, please just pick one."

"Okay, sorry. How about the one with the happier ending."

Dean pauses to think, "I don't think either end up happy."

"Then the one where someone doesn't die."

Dean pauses again, "I...do believe someone dies in both of them."

"Then what are the differences?"

"To be honest, there really aren't that many," Dean laughs it off, "They both take place within the same 1960s setting, even though Brokeback was made in 2004. There are two main male characters in both, who aren't close in the beginning but end up so by the end. Um. The biggest difference is that Brokeback actually takes place in Western-type locations, where Midnight Cowboy setting is in New York. Is any of this helping in your decision process?"

"To be honest, not really," Cas stands up from the couch and adjusts his shirt, "Well, you go ahead and make the final decision, okay? Let me go grab the pretzels and brownies from the kitchen while you get it set up. Want a beer?"

"Yes, please. Can you bring extra cheese sauce too?" Dean answers.

"Of course, nacho or cheddar?"

A sparkle glazes over Dean's eyes as he looks at Cas, a smirk making its way across his lips, "How about both?"

"Sure can," Cas leans in to give Dean a kiss on the cheek, brushing his hand up against the other man's shoulder, "Be right back."

Dean watches Cas walk out of the room with a smug look on his face, admiring his love before bending down in front of the TV console and turning on the DVD player to give it time to boot up. He looks back and forth between either movie case, still unable to pick one over the other. Sighing, he ends up picking Brokeback Mountain, knowing deep down that Cas would most likely end up enjoy watching it more.

As he stands back up holding the DVD player remote in his hand, he hears the sound of Cas walking down in the hallway near the mancave’s door. They've been together so long at this point, but even the slightest presence of Cas will still make a butterfly giddiness erupt inside of Dean.

"Right on time as always," Dean puts down the remote after pushing 'play', grabbing the plate and beer held out to him by Cas.

He holds it up to his nose and breathes in the mingling smells of delicious food, "You really outdid yourself on this one."

Cas blushes from the compliment before pulling his own plate closer to him, breaking off a piece of the brownie and slipping it into his mouth, "Glad to know you approve."

Dean winks and takes a bite of his own, letting out a tiny moan of satisfaction from the taste, "Did you put sea salt in this?"

"I'm surprised you noticed, it was one of my secret ingredients I added in. Thought it would go well with the caramel."

"Your intuition was right, this is delicious," Dean takes another large bite and lets the flavors melt over his tongue.

At this point in the movie, Jack and Ennis sit at the bar drinking together, getting the chance to have the last bit of freedom before heading up to the mountain to work. This reminds Dean of the many times he's shared a drink with Cas before they assumed the worst would happen, losing each other. Yet those moments have now become ones he'll never forget.

The soft touch of a hand against his face pulls Dean's eyeline from the movie, Cas reeling him into a deep kiss, their lips melding into each other creating a familiar yet comfortable feeling.

Before letting anything escalate Dean pulls back and faces his head back towards the TV, reaching up to wipe off his bottom lip softly, "Watch the movie, you're going to miss a good part."

Cas pulls away and pouts, giving him one last peck on the neck before returning fully to the boundaries of his seat.

Dean turns his head back again to Cas and reaches out for his hand, weaving their fingers together, "Hey don't do that, all I wanna do is watch the movie. We can do plenty of that later."

"Fine, fine," Cas mocks, grabbing a piece of the soft pretzel and dips it in the cheese, shoving it in his mouth with a hint of annoyance.

They manage to in silence to watch the movie a little longer before Cas speaks up again, "So...what exactly is going on?"

Dean clears his throat, "Well, Jack and Ennis got their orders to go up to the mountain to go work with the sheep and they're still trying to get used to each other. Testing out the ropes, trying to work together as a team."

"Are you sure they fall in love? They definitely don't very seem into each other at the moment."

Dean takes a sip of his beer, "Love happens in mysterious ways Cas, just like us. It is never as easy as we think, especially when two people don't really get along, to begin with."

"We got along just fine, what are you talking about?"

The only thing Dean does when he hears Cas make that statement is laugh, downing another large gulp of his beer.

Cas tilts his head, "Why are you laughing?"

"Your memory must be skewed now that you're human. Don't you remember threatening my life multiple times? Trust me, you and Uriel were a couple of dicks for the majority of that early time."

"I've changed a lot since then."

Dean smiles and squeezes Cas' hand, "We've both changed a lot. Us, being here like this, is the ending we both deserve. For them, it was much harder of a situation. Their free will isn't as fluid as the ones we take for granted."

"You're not telling me—" Cas sits back with wide eyes, trying to formulate the future plot points in his head.

"I'm not going to spoil anything from the movie, you're going to have to watch it yourself to find out yourself," Dean mimics zipping his lips and turning a key to lock it, "My lips are sealed.”

A sudden vibration erupts from Dean's back, shoving his hand into it and pulling out his phone to see Sam's picture contact picture lit up (from a drunken Halloween night dressed up in a Chewbacca costume, minus the head, with a herbal cigarette dangling between his lips), swiping to answer, "Hey Sammy, what's going on?"

"Hey-uh-hi, are you busy right now?" Sam asks in a mildly frantic tone of voice over the phone.

"Well—" Dean signals to Cas to pause the movie, "It is movie night like you know, but I can talk. Everything going okay?"

"No, yeah, everything is fine. Do you know how to treat a spider bite?"

Dean coughs slightly in surprise, "Are you telling me you already managed to get a spider bite?"

Cas, overhearing the conversation holds a hand up to his mouth to help suppress the giggling he's unable to prevent himself from doing.

"Yeah, um, neither Eileen and I can remember if it's supposed to be a cold or warm compress."

Dean shakes his head and lets out a chuckle, "Did you just drunkenly call me, to ask me, how to treat a spider bite less than 24 hours after leaving here?"

"Yes Dean, do you have the answer or not?"

"Go get some ice and makeshift ice pack. For the swelling. Any other questions?"

Sam pauses not answering right away, Dean hears the sound of rustling and clanking of ice in the background, "No that should be it. Thank you."

"Yep, you're welcome. Bye," Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else.

"I'm sorry for all of the distractions tonight Dean, I really am. I know how much you wanted to watch this movie," Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, slightly massaging at the tense muscle underneath Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin shirt.

"It's fine Cas, we can stop the movie if you want. Maybe pick it back up tomorrow?"

"Why can't we continue watching it? If we have to pause again, then we pause again. Anyway, you have me interested in learning what will happen.”

“Alright, we’ll continue.”

Thankfully, no one else bothers them for the rest of the movie. Even when Cas was confused in certain sections, he reminded quiet and attentively watched, quickly becoming attached to the characters and the blossoming (and losing) love between them. When the credits begin to roll, Dean looks over to see Cas crying, tears streaming down his face, and biting on his bottom lip to possibly contain his emotions.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"The jacket...Jack was the one who took the jacket that Ennis thought he forget on the mountain. He took it and kept it for all those years. And now...with Jack gone..." Cas leans in towards Dean, who wraps his arms around his shoulder in comfort, pressing little kisses on the top of his head. He lets Cas cry, holding onto him tight.

When Cas feels ready enough to pull away, Dean reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, "What’s wrong Cas?"

"It just reminds me of us. When you kept my coat, the symbolism of keeping an article of clothing when your loved one is gone. In this case—" Cas sucks in a deep breath, bottom lip quivering, "Ennis lost Jack, his soulmate. But no matter how many times you've lost me, I've always come back. I wish that could have been the same for them."

"Oh, babe..." Dean pulls Cas into a kiss, strong and supportive, "They got to share their love while they could, and even though things could have been different, that was the ending destined for the."

"Why couldn’t they have ended up together?"

"Just how their cards were played, nothing we can change about it.”

Cas sighs, rubbing away his remaining leftover tears, "This really is a goddamn bitch of a unsatisfactory situation."

Dean can't help himself from laugh out of happiness, "That was a pretty good usage of that phrase, glad to know you picked up on it."

"Oh, it's going to be my go-to now, along with 'I wish I knew how to quit you’."

"Sounds to me like you liked the movie. Well, I do have an idea," Dean stands up from the couch and reaches for Cas' hand, pulling him up to a standing position, "How about we go start something? Sound good to you?"

#j&kcreatorfest #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #destiel #i know this is late don't just me #i'm positing it anyway #this goes out to all of the drag queen brokeback mountain fans out there #hopefully i have hit a niche audience #jace is typing...

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