#listen I liked the TOS role color coding but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deathsteel · 3 years

Text

30 day fanfic challenge

Prompt #22 - Funeral

TW: canonical child death, not as sad as it seems, Dean is kinda a jerk at first

Okay, maybe it wasn’t classy to crash funerals. But Dean had never claimed to be terribly classy.

What he did claim to be was a great actor who could make himself cry on demand and the proud owner of one very well fitted suit that was perfect for mourning.

It started by accident, really. Dean had shown up for the funeral of one of his friend’s grandmother’s cousins intending to comfort the grandmother who’d always loved Dean and never forgotten his birthday, not even once. And he had ended up at an unexpectedly decadent funeral for a 98 year old multi-millionaire that happened to be being thrown the day after. Since he’d missed the funeral he’d intended to attend, Dean figured ‘fuck it’ and proceeded to enjoy the expensive free food and murmured condolences of the deceased’s foxy granddaughters.

The second time he did it may have been less accidental and Dean cried both for Muriel who had died at the ripe old age of 102 as well as for the organic chemistry test he had just bombed. It was so cathartic that he was hooked, a junky even.

He stopped going on dates because flirting with the widow or widower and coaxing a smile out of them was so much more appealing than sitting through the awkward get-to-know-you conversation of a first date. The emotional release of crying onto a stranger’s shoulder had nothing on getting blackout drunk and Dean found more and more of his social life being spent in funeral homes and cemeteries than in bars.

Until he accidentally walked into a funeral without doing his research first. Which, typically he did so much research so that he could pull off pretending to be the second cousin once removed or the mentee that the family never knew their loved one had mentored, but today he’d been busy and distraught over getting a rejection letter to his first choice for his doctoral program so he’d just picked out a funeral from a random obit and darted out the door.

So he wasn’t expecting...this. A funeral for a kid.

Dean had never gone to a funeral for a kid, something about the grief of a life snuffed out too soon had seemed too raw for Dean to be able to fake. It had felt much more disrespectful to crash those funerals than the ones for people who had lived a long and full and fascinating life.

It also seemed pretty evident to everyone else in attendance that Dean was in the wrong place. First, he was waaaay over dressed. Everyone else was wearing colorful clothing ranging from Hawaiian shirts to garish tye-dye and Dean’s black on black ensemble stuck out like a sore thumb. Secondly, Dean appeared to be the only one affecting an air of solemnity. In fact, the entire funeral home had been decked out to resemble a circus complete with juggling clowns and a guy making balloon animals. There was popcorn and a cotton candy machine and even a girl in a Hawaiian shirt carrying around a pair of parrots on her shoulders.

Dean intended to turn on his heel and march right back out, but it looked like some family member was already making their way towards Dean- a tall woman with short brown hair and a face that looked like it was meant to smile, which it was even if her eyes were not.

“Hello there,” The woman said, reaching out to take Dean’s hand and hold it in both of her own. “Thank you so much for coming, I don’t think we got to meet ever. My husband spent the nights at the hospital, so I don’t recognize all of the nurses. I’m Jody, Owen’s mom, thank you for coming.”

“Um, yea, Dean,” he muttered in reply, giving his real name when he never EVER usually did. But he was so caught off guard he didn’t know what else to do.

“I’m sorry about the change in dress code,” Jody said with a laugh, gesturing to the long rainbow plaid dress she was wearing. “Sean said Owen would’ve liked it. He didn’t like for things to be boring, you know?”

Dean nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he mentally planned his escape. He was an asshole and this was it, this was the last time he crashed without doing his research first.

“Well, anyway,” Jody continued, looking over Dean’s shoulder as another few mourners milled into the room. “Please enjoy yourself and have fun.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as the woman moved away, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the room. He’d hang for ten minutes and then duck out so it wouldn’t look so suspicious.

“You don’t work for the hospital,” A deep voice announced next to Dean causing him to jump and spin guiltily towards the source.

He found himself face to face with the guy who had been making balloon animals not even five minutes ago. A distant part registered that the man was attractive, like truly unf, but a more sane part of Dean realized that he was about to have his cover blown by a hot dude wearing rainbow suspenders.

“Uh, yea I do?” Dean asked, trying to convince even himself.

“No you don’t,” the man said, narrowing his blue eyes at Dean in suspicion. “Because I work at the hospital and I know everyone who ever set foot into Owen Mill’s room and you do not work at the hospital.

Fuck.

Dean weighed his options for a long moment before deciding he was well and truly powned. “Listen, dude. I didn’t realize this was a funeral for a kid okay. I don’t normally do this kind of thing. I’m gonna leave, just don’t make a scene okay?”

“Right,” the other man said slowly, his eyes and voice conveying how very little he bought Dean’s bullshit. “Take that jacket off and give it here. Make sure your phone and stuff are in your jacket.”

“Uh...excuse me?” Dean asked as he reached for the buttons on his suit jacket, loading his keys, wallet, and phone into the pockets before he handed it over to the other man and allowed himself to be led deeper into the room where the funeral was being held.

“Our nurse who signed up for the dunk tank is sick,” the balloon guy explained, stopping beside a large dunk tank that was situated on a blue tarp in one corner of the room; he patted the tank meaningfully before turning back towards Dean. “You man the dunk tank and I won’t rat you out.”

“What!?” Dean choked, looking at the slightly murky water and then back down at his fairly expensive suit.

The other man just raised an eyebrow at Dean and stayed silent, his full lips pursing just slightly to hold back what Dean strongly suspected was a triumphant smirk.

“Ugh okay,” Dean groaned, throwing up his hands as he made his way towards the dunk tank’s ladder and toed off his shoes. “For the kids.”

“Always for the kids,” the other man agreed, moving to the side of the tank where the bullseye was and taking up his role of barker with what Dean felt like was too much enthusiasm. “Dunk the Dummy! Step right up and Dunk the Chump!”

Quiet a few dunks later, Dean was soaked and shivering and vowing that he would never crash another funeral when the other man came back up to him with an apologetic grin and a towel.

“Thanks,” Dean muttered sarcastically as he took the towel and wrapped it around himself.

“Maybe you won’t crash any more funerals,” Balloon guy admonished only slightly apologetically. “Seriously, I clocked you as soon as you walked in. And you’re lucky it was me instead of a pissed off parent.”

“You go to a lot of funerals?” Dean asked as he roughed the towel over his dripping hair.

“Call it a work related hazard,” the other man replied with a grim smile. “But hey, it gave me a reason to learn balloon art and it makes the kids happy when most of the kids I see don’t have much to be happy about.”

Dean nodded in understanding, figuring he’d shove his whole leg in his mouth since his foot had already seemed to take up permanent residence there. “So uh...how did you know this kid anyway?”

“I was his oncologist,” the other man replied evenly, nodding at Dean’s self-recriminating wince. “So yea, man--”

“Dean,” he offered, cutting across the other man because it felt like he owed it to the doctor by that point.

“Dean,” the man said, with an incline of his head. “I’m Castiel. Just uh, do me a favor. Stop crashing funerals okay? It's pretty damn disrespectful.”

“Absolutely,” Dean promised, crossing his heart with the tip of his index finger. “I’m a changed man, I promise.”

“Great,” Castiel replied, rolling his eyes indulgently. “Have a good day Dean, thanks for coming.”

Dean nodded, handing the other man back the soggy towel in exchange for his jacket and his shoes that he picked up instead of putting them on over his dripping socks.

“But hey, Dean,” Castiel called as Dean started away. “If you ever want to take another turn at the dunk tank, you can look me up at St. Mary’s.”

“Right,” Dean said with a nod at the other man, turning to leave again before Castiel could see his blush.

His funeral crashing days were most definitely over, but maybe his tank dunking days had just begun.

#30 day fanfic challenge #fic writing #funeral #destiel #destiel fanfic #spn

6 notes · View notes