Tag Archives: Dean

The Moment I Knew (Version 2)

Started: 17.11.14

Finished: 18.01.12

Words: 3,147

I actually completely forgot that I had written two versions and didn’t upload the second one. Sorry this is so late, but I hope you enjoy.

Based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name. (Listen to it here)

SF, Destiel, TW: Suicide (Mentioned)


“Cas?”

The mentioned turned away from the window, smiling as his eyes met emerald green.

“What’re you doing street watching?” the blonde flopped down on the couch and peeked through the blinds, “it’s just snowing.”

“I just needed a bit of quiet,” he couldn’t help the blush that crept up his neck.

“A bit of quiet?” Dean turned from the window to face him, “y’know it’s your party, right? You can tell them to shut up if you want.”

Cas chuckled and shook his head, “As long as they’re having fun and not breaking things, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Well then you definitely don’t want to miss this,” the taller man stood up with a smile, “Gabriel’s table surfing.”

“Table surfing? Where?”

“On the kitchen island,” Dean tucked his hands into his pockets as he leaned back to check it out, “aaand yep, just what I thought. He’s got your cake precariously placed between his legs.”

Cas shook his head and laughed again, “Remind me next year not to serve alcohol.”

The taller man chuckled, offering him a hand, “C’mon. Let’s get you back to your party.”

“Cas!”

The voice startled the black-haired man out of his thoughts. He blinked and looked around, boulder beginning to grow in his stomach at the lack-of-Dean. His eyes flicked up to see Gabriel sauntering over before turning back to the window. Where is he?

“Are you deaf? I’ve been calling your name for like an hour!”

Maybe he’s just late… his eyes scanned the empty street, hoping against all odds to see the blonde materialize on the sidewalk, he said he’d be here.

“Hello?” Cas blinked as Gabriel waved a hand at his face, “anybody home?”

He sighed and turned away from the window again, “What?”

The brunette waved a dismissive hand, “Man, stop wasting your time waiting for that dickhead. What did I tell you? He’s not showing.”

“You’re drunk,” the raven-haired man felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes at his brother’s words.

No-no-no-no, he’s wrong. He’ll be here. He has to. He failed to swallow the lump in his throat and willed the tears away.

“C’mon, you’ve got candles to blow out,” he slung an arm around his brothers’ shoulders before dragging him off in the direction of the kitchen.

“You mean my cake didn’t fall during your surfing stunt?”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Surfing?”

“Yeah, on the-” he cut himself off and turned his gaze to the floor, oh.

The brunette’s eyes lit up with mischief, “Were you gonna say on the island? In the kitchen?”

“No…” wait, did he say I had to blow out candles?

Gabriel gave his brother a sideways glance, noting his saddening expression, “you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” I can’t believe it’s already that late. He better get here soon.

“Don’t worry little bro, I’ve never defiled your kitchen counter by surfing on it. Fooling around on the other hand…”

Cas shook his head and tried to push the sinking feeling aside, “You’re definitely drunk.”

“Pfft, naw,” Gabriel tripped on the lip separating the living room from the kitchen, before turning a lopsided grin to his brother, “okay, maybe a little. But it’s a party!”

The shorter man gave a tight smile as he helped him up, before going through the swinging kitchen door.

“Okay, sit here,” the raven-haired man was pushed into the only chair at the end of the island, before Gabriel scurried back out.

Everyone else began gathering around the table, continuing their conversations in hushed voices. Cas felt sweat break out across his neck, he knew it was his birthday, but the way no one was talking to him, and the way they all kept eyeing him while whispering, well… he wasn’t that stupid. C’mon, Dean, where are you? His eyes swept over all their faces absently while he waited, subconsciously searching for those emerald green’s.

Gabriel came back through the door, pushing it open with his back while he held the lit cake, face splitting with a grin as he made his way to the island, “Happy birthday…”

The room exploded with off-key singing as the cake was placed down in front of him. Cas couldn’t help feeling like the wind had been punched out of him when the cake was put down – it was like it cemented the fact the one person he wanted to be there the most, wasn’t.

He said he’d be here, he felt tears prick back at the corner’s of his eyes, this time failing to blink them away. He closed them in the hopes of keeping them at bay and tried to swallow the lump in his throat, I can’t believe he didn’t-

“Don’t wish for too much, Cas.”

He opened his eyes to see Gabriel starring at him, nodding toward the still-lit cake. Taking a quick look around the room again, maybe I just missed his face, he realized everyone was starring at him. Some confused, others leaning over to whisper to their neighbour.

“I-I don’t-” I can’t do this, he got up, avoiding his brother’s questioning gaze and all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He sunk to the floor as he felt the tears begin to fall, he promised…

 

 

Winchester!”

 Dean slid out from under the car he was working on to see his boss, chest heaving, face red, stomping toward him.

“Where the hell is my daughter?”

“Probably still sore from last night,” he smirked before sliding back under.

He felt his boss’ boot catch the end of his creeper, yanking him back out. The blonde glared up at the other man, I don’t have time for this.

The vein in his head began throbbing as he narrowed his eyes, “You want to try that again?”

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, shrugging.

His boss stomped his foot, face almost purple, “You will show me some respect, Diana!”

Diana? You really want to go there? He sighed before standing up, towering over his boss, “Sir, if I knew where your daughter was, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, keep making those jokes. We’ll see how funny you find them tonight,” his lips curled into an evil smile.

“Tonight? I think you’re losing it man, I get off at six.”

His boss’ smile grew, face returning to a somewhat normal colour, “Is that so? Interesting,” he took a few steps away, mindlessly looking over his tools, “I could’ve sworn the schedule said you were covering for her tonight.”

“Covering for her? You mean taking the graveyard shift?” Deans’ hands balled at his sides, no chance in hell, pal.

“That’s the one,” he picked up a screwdriver, smiling at it, “such a gentleman, you are.”

The blonde grit his teeth and had to use all his willpower not to punch him, “How so?”

He put the tool down, out of place, before meeting his eyes, smiling sweetly, “Offering to cover her shift without pay, of course.”

“Listen, if you think-”

“No, you listen,” he was back in his face again, eyes sparkling dangerously, “The only reason I don’t fire you,” he dropped his voice, “is because I promised your father. But if you ever talk about her like that again you will be sleeping under the bridge off 33rd Street and fighting over a barrel fire. Do I make myself clear?”

Deans glared in response, knuckles turning white at his sides.

“Don’t forget who owns who.”

He backed off again, clapping his hands, “Okay, good talk,” he looked around the shop and spotted the other two mechanics watching, “What’re you looking at? Get back to work!”

They both jumped at being caught and rushed back over to their cars, keeping their eyes on their work. His boss pulled the lapels of this suit, straightening it before walking back across the shop to his office.

Dean waited until he saw the office door close before knocking his toolbox to the ground, “Fuck!”

Tony and Mike looked up from their cars again, both men only coming marginally closer. Dean tugged at his hair, grinding his teeth together, if he thinks I’m staying for the graveyard shift, he’s got another thing coming.

 

 

Shit, Dean glanced at his watch before checking the positioning of the creeper, this’ll have to do.

He locked his tool box before grabbing his jacket, sneaking over to his boss’ office. He peered into the window and saw he was sitting, facing his computer. The blonde quietly came around the other side of the office, pressing his ear to the door. He held his breath as he listened.

Just as I thought, he smiled, shrugging on his jacket as he heard soft snores. He strolled over to the door before taking one last look around the shop. Nodding to himself that everything was in order, he walked out the door.

“Damn!” he pulled his jacket tighter around his chest as the cold hit him.

Jogging to his car, he fumbled with his keys, fingers already freezing. Oh c’mon!

After what felt like forever he finally wretched the door open and climbed inside. He spent a minute rubbing his hands up and down his bare legs, making a mental note to start leaving an extra set of clothes in the car. Thank God I did laundry last night, he rubbed his thighs through his boxers.

He took his phone off the seat next to him, punching the speed dial before bringing it to his ear, please pick up… please pick up…

“Hello?”

“Cas, hey, buddy, I’m so sorry, my boss was being a dick and gave me the graveyard shift, but I’m leaving now. I should get there-”

“I-it’s fine, Dean. You don’t have to come.”

Dean blinked, next sentence of his explanation dying on his lips as he took in his shaky voice, something’s wrong, “Are you okay?”

He heard a sniff, “Y-yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to come over.”

You don’t sound fine, “Don’t be stupid, it’s your birthday, of course I’m gonna be there. I might’ve missed your brother making a fool of himself, but you and I both know the party doesn’t really start until I get there.”

“Dean,” his voice was hard, but the taller man didn’t miss the shaky inhale on the other line, “you missed the party. Everybody left.”

The blonde failed to swallow the guilt he felt building in his throat, “Oh.”

“Yeah, so just… it’s fine, don’t come over.”

Dean nodded, starring at himself in the rear view mirror, I should’ve been there, I should’ve left earlier then I could’ve- he cut himself off as he listened, heart breaking a bit as he heard the soft gasps of the man on the other line. He could picture him sitting there, hand over his mouth trying to keep the blonde from hearing him cry.

He closed his eyes, licking his lips, keeping his voice soft, “Cas,” what can I say? How can I make it up to you? “I’d still like to see you.”

“No, I-” another shaky breath, “you can’t.”

Dean felt his heart quicken, “What do you mean I can’t?” he was already jamming the key in the ignition, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Damn it, he threw the broken end of the key to the ground, eyes glancing skyward, you’re not gonna make this easy, are you? He looked around the lot, racking his brain for another idea, walk? No, it’s too cold for that. C’mon there has to be something I can-

He paused as he saw the old, broken down car in the corner of the parking lot, will it run in the cold? Time to find out, he climbed out of the car and all but ran to the other side of the lot, phone pressed tightly against his ear.

“Cas? You still there?”

“Yeah…”

“I’m on my way,” he tugged on the handle, not surprised to see it was unlocked.

“Dean-”

“I’ll be there soon, okay?” he dug through the glove box for the keys, “Don’t do anything… rash.”

A dry laugh filled the air, making his blood run cold.

His hand closed around the key, yanking it from the glove box, “Hey. Promise me you won’t do anything. Don’t even move-”

“Dean, I-”

“Promise me, Cas,” he jammed the key in the ignition, smiling as it roared to life.

“O-okay. I won’t move.”

“Good. Alright, I’ll be there in twenty,” he threw the phone down on the seat next to him before speeding out of the parking lot.

Hang on, Cas.

 

 

“No, no, no, no, c’mon baby!” he hit the steering wheel as the car began to slow down.

He was about halfway to Cas’ house, car running better then he’d hoped it would in the rain. Naturally, that was where his good luck ran out – now the car was dying as it tried to make it over the bridge. And it had started pouring. C’mon, I don’t have time for this, he turned the key again, swearing to himself as it didn’t start. He leaned his head back, eyes closed, scrubbing a hand down his face with a sigh, what the hell am I supposed to do now? He failed to ignore the feeling of dread that was settling into his stomach, he wouldn’t actually do anything stupid… would he? He spent all night with his brother drinking… something was definitely wrong when I called him earlier. Dean fumbled, hand searching the seat beside him for his phone, maybe I really am over-reacting, he hit speed-dial and brought the phone up to his ear, he’s probably fine, there’s no way he’d actually-

This is Cas. Leave me a message.

Shit. Dean ended the call before trying again, c’mon, Cas, don’t-

This is Cas. Leave me a message.

Shit, shit, shit, Dean was in the back seat, searching the car before his brain had registered he’d even moved, feeling of dread deepening. He double-checked the time on the dash, he shouldn’t be asleep yet, before he brought the phone to his ear, one more time.

He leaned his head against the window, struggling to see, “Why did it have to start raining?”

This is Cas,” He growled in frustration before snapping the phone shut and throwing it to the ground, I’ve got to get over there now.

How am I gonna get there? Stupid car, if only I could- he bit his lip, cutting himself off as his hands balled into fists at the realization, I’m gonna have to run it.

Fuck, the blonde ran his hands through his hair, eyes raising skyward, you’re really not making this easy, y’know that? I thought you were supposed to be the helpful one. He took a deep breath, picking the cell up off the floor, okay, alright, I got this. I can run it, sure it’s only ten blocks… in my boxers… in the rain… shit. No, okay, on the count of three.

One, he climbed back over into the driver seat, hand on the handle, two, he took in a deep breath and failed to banish the fact that the rain was coming down in sheets, three.

 

 

Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck! He wiped water out of his eyes, squinting to see the house numbers, 459… 459…c’mon, I know it’s- ah-ha! He ran up the driveway and pounded on the door, right hand tightening his grip on the cell.

“Cas!” He pounded on the door again, thankful for once that Cas had insisted on having a roofed porch.

“Cas! C’mon, man! Open the door!”

God damn it, he pounded once more on the door, before hoping off the porch, making his way around the side of the house to the window, you better be- he stopped when he saw the bathroom light was on, door ajar.

“Cas?” He tapped on the glass, wiping more water out of his eyes.

He failed to wipe the water from the screen, punching the raven-haired mans’ number, before bringing it to his ear, working his way to the other side of the house. He grit his teeth as he stepped through a bush, branches scraping against his bare legs. He peered into this window, thankful he had a better vantage point of the bathroom. He could see Cas’ legs stretched out in front of the door, not liking the boulder that was settling into his stomach. C’mon, Cas, pick up!

This is Cas. Leave me a message.

He pounded his free hand against the window, “Cas! Cas!”

Punching redial, he tried to calm his racing heart, he’s fine, I’m sure he’s just passed out from drinking. He always was a lightweight. And if he was alone with Gabriel-

“H-hello?”

His heart almost leapt out of his chest at the non-robotic voice, “Cas!”

“D’n?”

The boulder in his stomach grew, something’s not right, “Yeah, buddy. I told you I’d make it. Come open the door.”

Dean swallowed thickly, noting how laboured his breathing sounded, not liking how small his voice sounded, like he’s fading, “I-I’m outside, come let me in.”

He squinted into the house, willing his legs to move, twitch, anything. He waited a few beats, boulder growing with each shaky breath he heard come through the line.

“Cas? You okay? Come let me in, let’s-”

He heard a crash before seeing the phone fall to the bathroom floor. That’s it, he took a step back, checking out the window before kicking it. Glass shattered around him, mixing with the falling rain. It had barely exploded before Dean was already scrambling into the house, hands and knees getting cut on some of the pieces. He got himself back on his feet and all but ran to the bathroom, falling to his knees as he spotted Cas leaned against the bathtub, blood flowing from both arms.

“Cas,” his eyes welled up with tears, as he reached out to his neck, hoping to whoever was up there that he still had a pulse.

“God, Cas, what did you do?” He pressed his fingers into his neck harder, not liking the stillness he felt.

Dean peeled his shirt off in an instant, ripping it in half, “You’re gonna be okay,” he swiped at his eyes as he wrapped the shirt around his arms, “y-you have to be okay. Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll fix this,” his eyes scanned the room for something he could use to make him okay, I need you to be okay, “I’ll fix you. I can-”

He cut himself off and reached for the piece of paper that was on the sink, sliding it out from under the razor. He swiped at his eyes as he brought it down to his face,

Dean,

I’m sorry.

C

A strangled cry made it’s way past Dean’s lips as he pulled the limp body toward him, crushing it against his chest, “No, no, no, baby. Y-you? Y-you don’t-”

He buried his head into the shorter-mans’ hair, tears dampening the strands.

“I-I’m sorry, too.”


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Stay That Way

This is this years’ Christmas/holiday fic.

On Dec. 14th I will be uploading a New Years fic, and then the last post of the year on the following Monday. (Dec. 17th) I will then take a two week vacation from posting, and will return in January! (I’ll explain more in the post on Dec. 17th)


Wee!Chesters

Words: 2,111


“… What are you doing?”

“Uhm…” Sammy’s eyes went to the ground, cheeks flaring, “nothing.”

“Nothing?” Bobbys’ eyebrows went up, “That’s an awfully loud nothing,” his eyes drifted to the lump under the covers on the bed, “a pretty big lump, too.”

The kid swallowed thickly, eyes darting to the lump before back to the father-figure standing in the doorway, “W-what lump?”

Bobby chuckled, holding up his hands, “Okay, okay. Well you just let me know if you need any help with that nothing.”

“… Okay.”

Bobby re-closed the bedroom door, shaking his head as he made his way down the stairs, what is that boy up to? He went out to the backyard, picking up the paint spray gun and mask, just down burn down the house.

 

 

Bobby awoke startled, hearing a loud crash from the kitchen, what in the hell…? He was out of his chair in an instant, stalking his way over to the kitchen doors, hand on his gun, mentally running through the salt-line check he’d done before falling asleep.

He opened the door and sighed in relief as he saw the five-year old jump up from the floor.

“Jesus, Boy, you almost gave me a heart attack,” he leaned himself against the door, eyes roaming over the flour-covered counter, “Whatcha doing, Sammy?”

The brunette swallowed thickly and ‘hid’ a cookie sheet behind his back, eyes threatening to spill over with tears, “… Nothing,” at the mans’ eyebrow raise he sighed in defeat, bottom lip poking out, “I-I’ll clean it up…”

“Clean up?” Bobby craned his neck a bit so he could see over the counter and noted the un-cooked cookies that littered the floor, “Now why would you do that?”

Sammy blinked in surprise as Bobby got an apron out of the closet, “… What?”

Bobby’s heart broke, John what the hell have you done to this boy? He took the cookie sheet from the child and placed it on the counter, before winking, grabbing the mixing bowl, “We can’t let you destroy the kitchen for nothing.”

 

 

“Wow,” Sammy was practically laying on the counter, watching the cookies cool on a wire rack.

Bobby chuckled as he washed the last of the dishes, “You’d think you’d never seen a cookie before.”

“I’ve seen cookies,” he rolled his eyes, “I just can’t believe I made these!”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”

“I know you helped but still…” he reached out to touch one, recoiling as it burnt his finger, “These look like real cookies. Like the ones you get at a store!” He turned to the older man, “I can’t believe we turned eggs and milk and all that stuff into these! It’s like magic!”

Bobby did his best to hold in his laughter, “Yeah, cooking is pretty cool.”

“Definitely,” he tilted his head a bit to the side, “… can making cookies be a job?”

“Yep,” Bobby leaned against the counter, taking a swig from his beer, “They’re called bakers.”

“Really?” his eyes went wide and he gave a thousand-watt smile, “That’s so cool! Do you think…” he bit his lip and averted his eyes, smile fading, “Do you think I could do that?”

“’Course.”

“But won’t Dad-”

“It doesn’t matter what John says,” he narrowly stopped himself from hitting the counter, “I mean,” he took a deep breath, “you should do whatever you want to do. Don’t worry if John doesn’t understand. Do what makes you happy.”

Sammy nodded before turning back to the cookies, “I want to make these every day!”

Bobby smiled, going over to ruffle his hair, “Then you do that.”

Just then, the boys heard a rumble from outside, the Impala.

Sammys’ face lit up again and he practically jumped off the counter, running to the front door, “They’re back!”

The brunette sped to the front hall before – much to Bobbys’ surprise – bee lining for the stairs, bedroom door slamming shut. Bobby looked after him for a moment before shaking his head as the front door opened, John bursting in, Dean in his arms.

That can’t be good, Bobby went to the kitchen, fetching the first aid kit, coming back as John placed Dean down on the couch. His face was set in a scowl, and he was covered head to toe in a mix of dirt and blood. Dean had a deep gash across his head that was oozing blood, glad Sammy decided to go upstairs.

“What happened?”

John shook his head, “He didn’t want to list-”

“John,” Bobby shot him a look as he pushed him away, kneeling down and beginning to clean the boys’ wound.

John let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing, eyes on the ground, “I told him not to go after it.”

“That’s great,” Bobby pushed the gauze harder against the wound, not liking that Dean didn’t even flinch, “What else?”

“What does it look like?” Johns’ hands balled into fists at his side, “The thing flung him halfway across the room, he only stopped cause he hit a wall. Head collided with the corner of a table on the way down.”

Bobby closed his eyes and grit his teeth, “He needs to go to the hospital.”

“No.”

“John-”

“I said no!”

“Do you want him to die?” Bobby stood, turning angry eyes on the other man, “Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if he stays here.”

John blinked in mild surprise, “You can’t stitch it?”

“He’s unconscious.”

John took a step toward him, getting close enough Bobby could smell the whisky on his breath, “Can. You. Stitch. It?”

Bobby used all the strength he had to not punch him in the face, “No.”

“Fuck,” John blew out a breath, eyeing his son, taking a small step back, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Go to the hospital.”

“We can’t.”

“Why?”

“I’m still wanted for that skin-walker job, remember?”

Bobby grit his teeth, closing his eyes for a moment to think, “Fine. I’ll take him, you stay here with Sammy.”

John paled a bit at the mention of his other son but nodded. He watched as Bobby picked Dean up off the couch, helping to load him into the truck. Bobby hopped in before giving John a death glare, “Do not tell him about this.”




 

“Seriously, Bobby, I’m fine,” Dean swatted at his arm as he was easing himself out of the truck.

“Oh yeah, you pass out from blood loss and get a concussion every day,” the older man gave him a pointed look and kept his arms out for support.

“Pfft, you know what hunting’s like,” Dean successfully stood on the ground, and blinked, swaying slightly on the spot, “It’s always dangerous.”

“You’re not your father, Dean,” Bobby shut the truck door and trailed behind the blonde as they made their way to the front door, “also, you’re nine.”

“Exactly,” He climbed the steps, leaning heavily against the banister, “Time for me to grow up.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and unlocked the door, holding it open for the blonde, not surprised to see John was no longer in the living room, big surprise.

“Dean!”

A mess of brown hair launched itself at the blonde, nearly knocking him over. He caught Sammy easily, plastering a smile on his face, but Bobby didn’t miss the flash of dizziness.

“Wha-? Who’s this?” he brushed some of the hair from his brothers’ eyes, “Oh, Sammy! There you are!”

The youngest giggled and Bobby was amazed at how quickly the elder could switch into Big Brother Mode. He began walking them over to the couch, “So, Sammy, what have you been up to?”

The youngest looked like he was going to explode, “I made you something!” his expression fell as he noticed the bandage on the blondes’ head, “What happened?”

“Eh,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “I’m fine. What did you make me? Is it…” he looked around the room, pretending to think, “A Tickle Monster?” he then threw the five-year-old onto the couch before all but tackling him, tickling his stomach.

The youngest let out a loud squeal, doing his best to wiggle away. John came out of the kitchen at the yell, and Bobby was mildly surprised to see he had showered. He hung back as he saw what was happening. The eldest Winchester leaned against the doorway next to Bobby, small smile on his face.

Sammy began gasping for breath after a few minutes, face going red.

“Dean.”

At the sound of his fathers’ voice, Dean immediately stopped, smile fading and he practically jumped up from the couch, puffing his chest out. A soldier ready for duty. Sammys’ gasps had also died down, eyes going straight to the floor, as if he were ashamed.

“Sammy,” Bobby nodded toward the kitchen, “why don’t you go get what you made Dean?”

He nodded, smile reappearing before zooming back up the stairs.

Dean turned confused eyes to the other men, “What is it?”

Bobby shrugged, “Last time I saw it, it was a giant lump under the covers.”

A small smile graced Deans’ face, and his cheeks flushed.

They saw the youngest stop at the top of the stairs, whatever it was carefully hidden behind his back, “Close your eyes!”

Dean rolled his eyes before closing them, “Okay! They’re closed!”

“I don’t believe you!”

Dean huffed, before opening them, giving Bobby and his father a look, “Little help?”

Bobby smirked, giving him a pointed look, “Well?” the blonde re-closed his eyes, “They’re closed, Sammy!”

The men watched as the youngest did his best to walk down the stairs without holding onto the hand rail. Whatever he made was big enough it needed his two hands to carry. He got to the bottom and carefully walked himself over, bringing the gift – that was carefully wrapped in red and white Christmas paper – out from behind his back.

“Hold out your hands,” upon doing so he placed the present in them, and chuckled as Deans’ arms fell a few inches, pretending it was heavy, “Okay, open.”

The blonde opened his eyes and let out a whistle, “You wrapped this?”

“Mhm,” Sammy was beaming, bouncing slightly where he stood, “Open it! Open it! Open it!”

“Okay, okay, geez,” Dean made his way back over to the couch, placing the present down on the coffee table.

He began unwrapping it slowly, brows knit together wondering what could be so heavy, before revealing a cardboard box.

He turned to his brother, “Wow, Sammy, it’s uhm…”

The youngest rolled his eyes, giving his brother a slight push, “It’s in the box, Dean.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.”

The blonde took his switch blade off his belt to open the box, prying the top open and peering inside, before letting out a small gasp. He reached into the box carefully, pulling out what looked to be a Lego version of their fathers’ Impala.

He turned his eyes to his brother, “What…? How did you…?”

“I built it!” Sammy was bouncing up and down, “I took all the black Legos I had from my other sets and built it,” he flung his arms around his brother, “Now you have one, too!”

“I can’t believe this…” Deans’ eyes drifted back down to the present he was holding, face stunned, “This is… amazing, thank-you.”

“Is that what you were doing up in your room all week?”

The youngest gave Bobby a nod before turning back to his brother, “You like it?”

“I love it,” Dean held the car up to his face, inspecting it, “You even got the license plate right!”

“Good job, Sammy,” Bobby went to sit on the arm of the couch, “Now that kitchen mess makes more sense.”

“Oh!” Sammy smacked his head, before running into the kitchen, “I forgot the best part!”

Dean starred after him, “There’s more?”

Bobby winked, “I helped with this part.”

The youngest returned a moment later with the cookies he and Bobby had made, placing the plate down on the table next to the car.

Dean looked over the cookies and chuckled, “Are these supposed to be us?”

Sammy nodded his head excitedly before removing one of the door Legos from the side of the car, placing one of the cookies into the driver side, “Look! They fit inside, too!”

“Wow, Sammy, that’s so cool!” Dean wrapped his brother up in a bear hug, “You’re one smart kid, y’know that?”

“I know!”

“This is great, Sammy,” he turned his eyes to the plate of cookies, eyes widening slightly, “I just have one question.”

“What?”

His stomach grumbled then, as if on cue, “Does that mean I can’t eat the cookies?”


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Candy Coma




Words: 1,122

Wee!Chesters


“You can not where that.”

Sammys’ face fell, and he took the dollar store fangs out of his mouth, “B-but why?”

“Pfft, what do you mean why? Because we-” Dean caught himself. He took a moment, raking his brain for an acceptable excuse, and gestured vaguely at the costume, “It’s… y’know…”

The youngest frowned and looked down at himself, hands tightening into fists around the cape, “It’s the only costume we have.”

“Sorry, Sammy, it’s just…,” he strode a few paces to one of the beds, trying to swallow down the guilt he was feeling, “Dad would freak if he saw it.”

“Why?”

The blonde flopped himself down, starring at the ceiling while letting out a heavy sigh, “Cause, Sammy he just…” how am I supposed to explain this without telling him? “… doesn’t like Halloween.”

“But why?”

“Because he just doesn’t, okay?” Dean waved a dismissive hand toward his brother, “Now, go… do whatever it is you do.”

His brother cast his gaze to the floor, hands wrapping the cape tighter around himself, “But you said we could go Trick Or Treating.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it, damn it, “I don’t know if I want to go. I’m tired.”

“… You said we could finally go this year.”

“I know, and now I’m saying I don’t wanna,” he paused, lifting his head to look at his brother, “It’s not like the people here will have candy, anyway.”

“But… but,” the disappointment in his brothers’ voice pulled at his heart strings, “You promised!”

Dean shook his head, flopping it back against the pillow, “I know I promised, but things change,” he sat up, “Did you really think Dad was gonna let you go anyway?”

The youngests’ eyes were brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering. His brows creased in anger, hands falling away from his cape, before he stamped his foot, “Fine!” and made a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Dean rolled his eyes and got off the bed, padding over to the bathroom, “C’mon, Sammy, don’t be like that.”

“Go away!”

“Sammy-”

“Leave me alone!”

Dean crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to the door, “What’s your plan here, exactly? Lock yourself in the bathroom and miss Halloween altogether?”

“… It doesn’t matter!”

The blonde closed his eyes and failed to swallow the lump in his throat at his brothers’ tone – it was obvious he was crying. He sighed before turning his eyes to the clock, 7:30pm, he knocked softly on the door, “Dude, if you don’t come out of there you are gonna miss it. It’s already seven-thirty.”

“I don’t care!”

Dean huffed in annoyance, “Fine! Stay in there all night, then! See if I care! But when Dad gets back, you’re gonna have to explain to him that I stayed behind and we didn’t end up going out!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” The blonde stomped away from the bathroom, grabbing his coat off the bed, “If you’re just gonna stay in there all night,” he stomped to the motel door, hand on the knob, “then I’m gonna go out and have some fun! Alone!

 




 

Stupid Sammy, Dean kicked at a rock as he walked down the street, why does he have to be such a brat all the time? He crossed the street, taking out a cigarette, and lighting up, he should’ve known- Deans’ head whipped up as he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala, shit, he stamped out the cigarette as the car came into view.

He turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could back to the motel, praying to whoever was up there that he’d be able to beat his father home.

 

 

“Sammy?” Dean burst through the door, thanking his lucky stars his dad stopped at that convenience store, eyes immediately scanning the place for the mop of messy brown hair. “Sammy?” His heartbeat was in his throat as he searched the small room, not finding his brother. Shit-shit-shit-shit, where would he be? He knows better then to go out alone.

He surveyed the area, making sure his brother wasn’t there, before turning back to the door, surprised to hear a key in the lock. Damn, that was fast. What the hell am I supposed to tell Dad? He backed up a few steps, stealing himself against the giant as the door opened.

“Sammy?”

The brunette beamed at his brother, struggling with a large pillow case, that was practically overflowing with candy, “Look, Dean! I got so much!”

“That, uh, that’s great, Buddy,” Dean eyed the pillow case, eyebrows shooting up as he saw full-sized chocolates, “Where did you get these?”

His brother dumped the candy out over one of the beds, not looking up, “Here.”

“Here?” Dean was confused, he didn’t think people at the motel would’ve had candy.

Sammy shrugged without looking up, “Yeah, they felt bad because I had to go Trick or Treating alone… and since a lot of them didn’t think they’d get kids here, they had to give me candy out of the vending machine.”

You clever little… Dean whistled, impressed with his brother. He went over to the bed, looking over everything he’d got, “You’re one smart kid, you know that?”

Sammys’ grin widened as he climbed on the bed, beginning to sort out his candy, “I know.” Dean reached for one and was surprised when his brother slapped his hand away. At the look he gave him, the brunette shrugged, “You didn’t come with me, you don’t get any.”

“Wha-?” Dean eyed the pile, going to sit on the edge of the bed, “You can’t seriously- ”

Just then, John burst through the door, looking pissed. He was almost caked in mud from head to toe. He sighed heavily as he kicked the door closed, carefully taking his jacket off. He kicked off his boots before glancing at the boys, eyes widening as he saw his youngests’ spoils.

“Wow, Sammy, you did good tonight, huh?” John glanced at the other bed, pausing, “Dean… you didn’t get any candy?”

Dean shrugged, trying to calm his beating heart, “I’m too old for that, Dad.”

“Oh…” John gave a half smile before moving to the bathroom, turning the shower on.

“Can’t I just have one?” Dean leaned over the bed, doing his best puppy-dog eyes.

“Hmm,” his brother brought a hand to his chin, pretending to think, “Nope.”

“Dude, c’mon. There’s no way you can eat all that by yourself.”

Sammy picked up one of the bigger chocolate bars, not breaking eye contact with his brother as he took his time taking the wrapper off, bringing it to his lips, mischievous grin on his face, “Watch me.”


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Chicken

Written: 18.09.28-18.10.05

Words: 1,486

Gen., Human!Cas


“You have to have pie!” Cas grabbed the cashier by the collar, nearly pulling him over the counter.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir,” the cashiers’ voice shook, “This close to Thanksgiving nobody has any left.”

“I need pie!” Cas’ grip tightened around the collar, cashiers’ eyes going wide in fright.

The teen swallowed thickly, eyes darting around, “Y-You could always make one.”

Make one? Cas thought for a moment, could I make one? He turned narrowed eyes back to the teen, “How?”

“There’s pie filling in Aisle Two,” at the continued stare, the cashier pointed behind them, “I-I’m not sure if we still have pie shells, though.”

Cas’ grip tightened more, “I can’t just serve them pie filling!” he hesitated for a moment, “… Could I?”

“If you wanted to.”

The raven-haired man dropped the cashier against the desk, breathlessly, bee-lining for the aforementioned aisle. Pie filling… pie filling… where is-ah! Cas’ eyes widened at all the different cans, blueberry, cherry, pumpkin, apple? Why are there so many?

He turned angry eyes to the cashier, “Why are there so many?”

The cahsiers’ eyebrows knit together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Cas huffed in annoyance, “Which one do I pick?”

The cashier shrugged, taking a few steps toward the backroom, “Whichever flavour you like.”

I don’t know which flavour’s his favourite… he glanced at the clock on the back wall, and I’m running out of time! He swiped his arm across the shelf, knocking all the cans into his basket, I’ll just get all of them.

Okay, he threw the grocery bag down on the counter with a huff, starring into it with a mounting panic, what do I make first? He eyed the pie filling and the pie crusts, does pie take longer? He began lining all the cans out on the counter, starring over the flavours, I’ll start with these so I have time to perfect them for Dean. He grabbed one of the cans, placing it inside one of the shells, looking confused, that’s not how the picture looks… He picked the can up to inspect it. Upon shaking it, he heard a squishing, cheeks going red at his embarrassment even though he was alone, of course… it’s inside the can! He pulled a knife from a drawer, stabbing the top of the can – frowning when it didn’t open. He tapped the knife on the lid of the can again, sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air, how the hell…?

His eyes drifted slightly downward, toward the paper on the middle, he smirked as he turned the can on its’ side, taking the knife to the paper. The paper fell away from the can in a few slices, only to reveal more metal underneath, much to Cas’ dismay. The whole can is metal?

Huffing in rage, he grasped the can firmly in one hand and began sawing into it with the knife, using all the strength he could muster, “I… don’t…have…time…for…this.”




The Winchester brothers’ made their way through the bunker door, ears perking at the struggling noises coming from inside. Dean wiped blood from his eye as he nodded to his brother, the pair separating with their guns drawn, preparing to sweep the bunker. Fresh from a hunt, they were both still on high alert for any threats – even on Thanksgiving they didn’t get a break.

They moved into the hallway, where the grunting noises were getting louder. They stopped on either side of the kitchen doorway. Sam looked to his brother, holding his breath. At his brothers’ nod, they entered the room, raising their guns and startling the ex-angel.

“Cas?”

They lowered their weapons as they saw the kitchen island, full of food. There were about ten pies lining the kitchen island, used as a make-shift boarder around different dishes holding vegetables, and a giant hole, assumed to be the place for the bird in the ex-angels’ arms.

Cas put the roasting pan on the table, giant smile splitting his face, what’s on his face? before he threw his hands up in the air like an over-excited five year old, “Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Cas,” Deans’ voice was careful, hand out like he wasn’t sure what to expect, “What uh, what is all this?”

“I made you Thanksgiving dinner!” The raven-haired man took the oven-mitts off and untied his apron, gesturing to the stools set at the island.

The brothers’ shared a look as they approached the island cautiously. Sam took a stool, eyes roaming over the holiday spread, “Why uh… what made you decide to cook?”

“I thought you could use a good holiday memory,” he smiled as he handed each of them a beer, “y’know, instead of having somebody die.”

Dean snorted, taking a seat only when the youngest shot him a look, “Well it, uh, smells… great.”

Sams’ stomach grumbled almost as if on cue, cheeks going red as he looked over the table with a small smile, “What would you recommend we start with?”

Cas gestured to the bird in the middle of the table, “The main event, of course.”

Dean looked skeptical – it’s still pink for Christ sake –  but made his way around the other side of the island to grab the carving knife. He tilted his head to one side as he eyed it, “This looks pretty small for a turkey… how many pounds was it?”

“It didn’t say.” At the brothers’ look, he went to the garbage, pulling the container out, “See?”

Dean snorted again, shaking his head as he read the container, “Cas… this is a chicken not a turkey.”

“… Oh.”

“I’m sure it still tastes great,” Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, who was clearly trying to keep his laughter in.

“Yeah, I bet-” Dean cut himself off as he pushed the knife into the bird, being met with semi-frozen resistance, it’s not even cooked.

Dean looked up at the two men from the bird, boulder of guilt settling into his stomach as he took in the ex-angels’ fallen face, he looks like someone kicked his puppy.

“Dean?”

Not usually one to spare someones’ feelings, Dean shook his head, “Nothing, I’m sure it’s great.”

He used as much force as he could to dig into the semi-frozen bird, doing his best to keep a straight face as he placed the piece onto a plate.

“Here ya go, Sammy. First piece,” he handed the plate to his brother, praying he didn’t need to cut another.

Sam eyed his brother but accepted the plate. He took his knife to it, instantly realizing it was frozen, he opened his mouth before catching the look his brother was giving him. Reluctantly, Sam popped a piece of frozen bird into his mouth.

Cas’ face lit up slightly, “How is it?”

Sam moaned around the piece, nodding his head, “So…” he turned away slightly, doing his best to not spit it out, “so, good,” he gestured to Dean, “You should try it.”

“Nice try Sammy,” the blonde pushed the roasting pan slightly away from him, pulling over one of the pies, “You know I like my dessert first.”

Deans’ eyes caught the paintbrush sitting on the edge of the island, he… painted the pies? He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, as he starred at the pie he pulled over, why would you paint it? Sighing, he plunged his fork into the middle, suppressing his cringe as the crust bent easily under the force, didn’t we show you how to use the oven?

“So, Cas,” Sam thankfully piped up, “Why did you make so many pies, anyway?”

The raven-haired mans’ cheeks flared red, and he adverted his eyes to the ground, “Well… I didn’t know which would be your favourite… so I bought all of them.”

Of course you did, Dean closed his eyes, boulder in his stomach growing. He slightly shook his head as he tried to cut raw dough with his fork, doing his best to make it look like he wasn’t struggling.

“Wow, Cas that’s… that’s really nice, thank-you.”

“Of course, you’re family.”

Damn it, Dean felt a tug at his heart strings, finally ripping the dough enough with his fork to get a piece, “Yeah, Cas, that’s… not necessary.”

He popped it into his mouth, fighting off his gag reflex. He chewed it, teeth clenching at the doughy texture, I can’t believe he actually ruined pie… The blonde swallowed it down, body shuddering as it made it’s way down.

“I can’t wait till next year!”

Dean nearly choked on his pie.

Cas’ face lit up with an ear-splitting grin, looking between the brothers’, “Yeah! I can cook while you two are out hunting.”

The brothers’ exchanged a look, before Dean shook his head, “I don’t think so, buddy.”

Cas’ face fell slightly, “But… why?”

“Cause next year?” Dean took another forkful of pie, slingshotting it at the ex-angel, “I’m cooking.”


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Project: Soak

Written: 18.09.06

Words: 1,207

Gen.


“Cas, duck!” Dean spun around, firing off a shot in the space the angels’ head had just occupied.

The blonde dropped to his knees behind the rock, reloading, man, they are relentless!

Cas crouch-ran over to where the hunter was, “We’re surrounded!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean craned his neck to look around the rock, pulling back as a shot was fired in his direction, he scanned the half of the park that was behind them, why are parks always so open?

He saw a lone tree a few feet away from them, is it big enough to hide both of us? He turned to Cas, who was hiding completely behind the rock, head between his knees, gun laying on the ground next to him.

Why do I bother? The blonde shook his head and tapped him, pointing, “See that tree? We’re gonna run to it. Think you can manage?”

Cas starred blankly at the tree for a second before nodding, “We’ll fit there.”

In the next instant, the two men were behind the tree. Dean blinked, head spinning from the sudden movement before turning to Cas, bewildered and slightly queasy, “You can still teleport?”

The angel looked at the hunter like he was stupid, “Of course.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Do you know how useful that would’ve been-” he cut himself off, shaking his head, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Dean peered around the trunk, noting the two men were still heading toward the rock they were just behind. Good, maybe now we’ll have a bit of time to- “Cas!” Dean knocked the gun from the angels’ hand, “What the hells’ wrong with you?”

“What?” Cas frowned, looking like a child, “You gave me the gun!”

“You weren’t supposed to shoot from here. You just gave away our position,” The blonde checked around the trunk again and, of fucking course, the two men were running full speed toward them.

“Can you teleport us out of here?”

At the lack of response the blonde turned to the man on his right, you’ve gotten be kidding, “A butterfly? Really, Cas?”

The angel held up his finger in triumph, “They’re endangered, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know they’re-” Dean huffed, chancing another look around tree, mentally cursing as the two men were nowhere in sight. He turned back to the angel, “Can you teleport us out of here?”

The angel turned surprised eyes to the hunter, did he forget I was here? He sighed before gently blowing the butterfly off his finger, “Wouldn’t that be cheating? You said not to use my powers.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Now you listen? Okay, look,” he checked around the tree, men still nowhere in sight, “it’s not cheating if we don’t have any other options. And since we’re cornered-” a shot hit the tree, nearly hitting Dean in the head. He let out a whistle and shot back, “anytime you’re ready, Princess.”

Cas’ brows furrowed for a moment before he sighed, placing his hand on the hunters’ shoulder.

Deans’ knees buckled against the ground as they landed. He looked around, no longer hearing the sounds of the park, home? He sighed and turned to the angel, “Damn it, Cas!”

“You’re welcome,” the angel slipped his trench-coat off on his way to the kitchen.

“Cas,” Dean rolled his eyes, following suit, “You weren’t supposed to take us out of the park – just out from behind that tree. To a better vantage point,” Dean went over to the fridge, inspecting its contents, “You just made us lose.”

The angel let out a sigh, “I don’t understand that game.”

Dean shook his head as he began pulling things from the fridge, of course you don’t, “Me and Sammy used to play all the time when we were kids. We finally had a day off, I figured we could both use something distracting.”

“But…” the angel chewed his lip a second, tilting his head to the side slightly, “you shoot to kill all the time, how would play shooting your brother be a distraction?”

“It was fun, Cas,” He closed the fridge and moved to the island where the angel was sitting, “Y’know, fun? You’ve had to of heard of it in all the hundreds of years you’ve been around humans.”

“…It wasn’t fun,” He picked at a chip in the table, “You were being mean.”

Dean sighed, exacerbated, “I wouldn’t of been so mean if you’d just-”

“You guys left mid game so you could cook?” Gabriels’ voice made both parties jump and turn to the doorway.

“We left because we wanted to leave you two with some of your dignity,” Dean began chopping vegetables, “I mean, you were losing against Cas.”

“Pfft, please,” Sam plopped down at the island next to the angel, “We were kicking your asses.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, Sammy,” the blonde turned to the stove, grabbing a pot and throwing the veggies in.

The giant rolled his eyes before running them over the ingredients displayed on the counter, “You’re making Pasgetti?”

Dean twirled back around to the island, nodding proudly, “Best meal after any hunt.”

Cas looked between the two, obviously confused, “But you weren’t-”

“Just go with it, Cas,” Gabriel took the last seat at the island, “It’s good.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at the other angel, “How would you know?”

“Pfft, please, who do you think taught her the recipe?”

The Winchesters’ jaws dropped and they both turned to the angel in unison, “What?”

Gabriel smirked, “Oh yeah, me and your mom go way back.”

“You son of a bitch, if you ever-”

“Relax, Dean-o, I don’t mean that. We were friends for a long time. Tried teaching her all kinds of recipes, but, well…,” he looked between the two humans before shrugging, “Some people just can’t cook.”

Dean eyed the angel, “You’re lying.”

Gabriel held up his hands in mock defence, “Believe me or don’t, either way, I’m the reason you two exist at all so…”

“Okay, now I know you’re definitely lying,” Dean turned back to the stove, angrily stirring the pot.

“Oh c’mon, you two already know your parents’ being together was part of heavens’ Almighty Showdown. Who do you think convinced Mary to go on a second date with the Neanderthal mechanic?”

“He’s right,” Cas didn’t bother to look up from the chip he was digging at, “Dad made sure an archangel was sent to watch over them, since it was such an important task, and we all know Michael and Lucifer couldn’t be trusted…”

The brothers’ shared a disbelieving look before Dean smirked, “You taught Mom the recipe?”

Gabriel nodded proudly, “Yep. I must’ve made it with her over a hundred times. She couldn’t quite match the awesomeness of the original, obviously.”

Dean nodded, “Okay, so… you wouldn’t want any of this then, since it’s not as good?”

Gabriel stopped himself mid-mod, mouth opening slightly in shock, “W-well, I-” his eyes narrowed at the hunters’ smirk, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh no?” Dean half-turned from the pot.

“Of course not,” Gabriel touched a finger to the pack of spaghetti on the island, winking at the other two men as it disappeared, “Kicking your ass really works up an appetite.”


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Face to Face

Inspired by the lyric: He’s not the only one who had a secret to hide – left the secret at the grave (Carrie Underwood – Two Black Cadillacs)

Words: 988

Started: 17.07.20

Finished: 18.08.22

Sabriel, Destiel


“Oh my God.”

“I had to,” Cas’ voice came from somewhere behind him.

Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the burnt remains of wings that were spread across the floor, what did you do?

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do.”

The blonde closed his eyes and took in a breath, his heart breaking at the pain in the angel’s voice, “It-it’s okay, Cas.”

“He didn’t give me a choice.”

“Cas, it’s okay,” Dean swallowed thickly as his eyes landed on the face of the body, “You don’t have to explain.”

“I didn’t-”

“Cas,” he turned to face the angel, hoping he was doing a better job of masking how freaked out he was than he felt, “let’s just get you home.”

“But Dean-”

“Cas, it’s fine,” he closed the small distance between them and pressed a kiss to his lips, “Trust me, okay?”

Cas gave a sheepish nod before allowing himself to be pulled towards the exit, “What are we gonna do?”

Dean let out a breath as he held the door open, “I have no friggin’ idea.”

“Hey, what took you guys-” Sam’s question died on his lips as he took in the expression on Cas’ face, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean came through the door, keeping a guiding hand on Cas’ back as he stood there, eyes not leaving the ground.

“Are you sure?”

Dean held up a hand and shook his head. Sam nodded and shut up, confused eyes not leaving his brother.

Dean rubbed the raven-haired man’s shoulder a bit, “why don’t you go lay down for a while? I’ll come in to check on you in a bit, okay?”

The angel nodded meekly and headed off to his room, eyes not leaving the ground as he passed the younger hunter. Dean starred after him until he heard the door to his bedroom close, then he returned his gaze to his brother.

“Dean, what the hell happened?”

Dean gave his brother a once over, feeling a boulder settle into his stomach, how in the hell am I supposed to tell you?

Sam took a step closer, noticing the look in his brothers’ eye, “are you okay? Did something happen?”

You’d never forgive him…

“Dean?”

“He…” the blonde swallowed thickly, feeling the boulder grow, maybe you don’t have to know all of it, “he killed an angel.”

Sam’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair, “he what? How did… what do you – What happened?”

The elder let out a sigh and made his way to the couch, “I don’t know.”

“What?” he followed his brother, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he flopped down on the couch and closed his eyes, “I walked in after whatever happened, happened and just saw him standing there.” Over his body.

“He didn’t say anything to you?”

“No, Sam, he just stood there looking guilty as hell.”

The younger brother – thankfully – went quiet for a moment. He pulled a stool over to sit in front of the couch, running a hand through his hair. Dean sighed in slight relief, no more questions, please.

“A-are you sure it was an angel?”

Dean held back a snort, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Well, maybe… Maybe it wasn’t. It could’ve been someone else.”

“It was an angel, Sammy,” Dean ran a hand down his face, leave it alone, Sam.

“How do you know?”

“Just…” He got up, how the hell am I supposed to tell you? “trust me, I know what a dead angel looks like.”

“It could’ve just been a vessel, or maybe-”

“It was one we knew! Alright?” Dean blinked as the words left his mouth, eyes going wide, shit-shit-shit-shit.

“One we knew?” Sams’ eyebrows knit together, “Who was it?”

“Sam…”

“Dean.”

The blonde rubbed a hand at the back of his neck in nervousness, swallowing thickly, forgive me.

Sam let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair, “Fine, if you won’t tell me who… can you at least tell me why?”

“All he said was that he had to do it.”

“I just…,” Sams’ eyes focused on the hall where Cas disappeared, “I can’t believe he killed an angel and wouldn’t tell us what happened.”

“Yeah, well, he probably,” Dean got up, “he probably just doesn’t know how to explain it. We both know what it’s like to kill someone we didn’t want. It’s messy.” He watched the gears in his brothers’ head turning, don’t over think it. “I should go check on him.”

Sam nodded, still clearly distracted trying to work out what happened, “Yeah, okay.”

Dean eyed his brother, “Maybe you outta head home?”

Sam blinked, coming out of whatever scenario he was imagining and finally looked at his brother, “What?”

“Look man, I’m not gonna lie, you look like shit,” at the snort he continued, “That hunt wiped both of us out. I was just gonna crash anyway, no point in you sticking around if we’re both sleeping.” Please, take the hint and leave.

Sam stood, stretching his back out a bit and stifling a yawn, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He checked his watch, eyes widening, “2:30am? Gabriels’ gotta be worried sick.” Sam started toward the front door, turning around in the doorway, “You’re sure you won’t need me?”

Dean nodded, leaning against the door, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t wanna take care of two babies tonight.”

Sam chuckled and nodded, “Alright, fine. Night.”

“Night,” the blonde closed the door, leaning against it while he breathed out a sigh, shit. He slid down the door, resting his head against it, I’m sorry, Sammy.

“Dean?”

His head whipped up in the direction of the bedroom, “Y-yeah, Cas,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll be right there.”

He got up and headed for the hall, scrubbing a hand down his face as he switched gears, he’ll piece it together when he gets home.


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Room 739

Based on Tumblr post, ‘I’m at a hotel and the people in the room next to me started having sex and I timed it and he only lasted 54 seconds and I think they can hear me laughing. UPDATE: They just banged on the wall and it only made me laugh harder b/c you can bang a wall but not your gf?  from Tumblr user Neurochemical

Neurochemicals Tumblr has been deactivated. (If you know if they have a new one, let me know and I’ll link it)

General Slash (Destiel/Sabriel)

Written: 18.03.27

Finished: 18.05.17

Words: 862


“Dude!” Gabriel jumped up off the couch, cutting off what Cas was saying, pressing his ear to the wall, grin slowly appearing on his face, “guess who’s back from their date?”

“Ew, Gabe,” Sam pulled a face and waved a dismissive hand at him, “Can’t we get back to playing?”

“C’mon Sammich, we’ve been playing poker for like four hours!” Even half-smushed against a wall, he still managed to whine like a child.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to know how this ends,” Dean winked at his brother before placing his cards on the table, poising his hand at his watch, turning to Gabriel, “Now?”

“Gabriel, Sam’s right. We shouldn’t be-”

“Now!” The brunette cut his brother off, pointing to the eldest Winchester.

They all fell quiet, listening to the intense banging coming from their hotel neighbours. Sam rolled his eyes and got up from the table. This wasn’t what he pictured when Gabriel had invited him on a romantic get away. For one, Dean and Cas came, which, wasn’t completely surprising, Sam just thought he’d get some… alone time with his boyfriend.

But, they had been stuck in the room practically all week – the weather turned as soon as they checked in – apparently a tornado warning had been issued when they were in the sky. The hotel was too paranoid to let the guests try to leave, spewing something about ‘it’s safer in your rooms’, Sam snorted at that, safer in a high-rise?

For such a fancy hotel, there wasn’t all that much to do. Not like any of them had really packed any board games, either – if he knew they would be stuck inside for seven days straight, he would’ve packed something other then a bathing suit.

And condoms. Don’t forget the condoms, Sammich.

He rolled his eyes at the interruption, yes, of course, and those. The giant starred out the sliding glass door, it doesn’t even look that cloudy…

This newest game wasn’t even that good. They discovered early on that they were sharing the wall with newly-weds. Which again, wouldn’t have been so bad, except that they have sex.

A lot.

They couldn’t go more then an hour without doing it. They didn’t even slow down when the tornado warning was issued – the warning actually seemed to make them go at it more frequently. I guess if they think they might die… Gabriel and Dean had concocted the game out of sheer boredom one night – we can hear through the wall anyway, Sammich – they all bet on how long the guy would last. Sam didn’t know what was wrong with him, aside from the obvious, but the banging on the wall – and thus, their sessions – had been getting increasingly shorter. Last session they had was somewhere under five minutes. You’d think if he could only last that long, they wouldn’t be doing it so often – like they’d be running out of steam – not so. They kept going at it with just as much intensity as when they’d started. They should at least take a water break, or, y’know eat something.

Sam came back to the table as the banging stopped, turning to his brother who was grinning like an idiot, “Well?”

Gabriel was practically in his lap, trying to look at the time on the watch.

“Fifty-four seconds.”

There was a moment of silence before the four of them burst into hysterical laughter.

“W-what?” Gabriel was practically on the floor, wiping tears from his eyes, “F-fifty four…?”

Sam looked to the wall, dude…

“…Are you sure you timed it right?”

Dean threw the watch on the table for all to see, almost unable to contain his laughter, “Less then a minute…” he shook his head, “dude, know when to quit.”

A loud banging on the wall made them all stop, heads snapping up to face it.

Hey!”

Sam looked to the group, eyes wide, “he heard us laughing?”

Another bang came through the wall, “What’s so funny over there?”

“He sounds pissed… maybe we should apologize?”

“We’re not gonna apologize, Cas. It’s not our fault he’s bad in bed.”

“H-he can bang the wall,” Gabriels’ lips twitched as he tried to hold back his laughter, “but not his girlfriend?”

The four of them erupted into another laughing fit, the continued banging on the wall only making them laugh harder.

“Don’t make me come over there!”

Gabriels’ face was red, tears streaming down his face, “O-oh yeah, we’re so scared Mr. Fifty-Four Seconds!”

“That’s it!”

They heard one final slam on the wall before it went quiet.

Sam swallowed thickly, “You guys don’t think that he’d actually-”

A bang on the door was all the answer he needed. The four of them starred at it, eyes wide.

“What the hell do we do now?”

“What do you mean ‘what do we do now’? It’s not like we gotta let him in.”

“We can’t just leave him out there pounding on the door.”

Gabriel shot up out of his seat, eyes sparkling, practically tip-toeing to the door, putting the chain on.

“What’re you…?”

He made his way back to the table with a smirk, “He could use the practice.”


Like this fic? Check out more here!

A Thousand Promises

One of the fics from my debut fanfiction novella, Don’t Get Caught.

Sabriel


Sam lay awake in his bed, too excited to sleep. He rolled over and watched the love of his life snore away as if it were just any other night. That didn’t surprise him–the trouble-maker could sleep through anything. Once, they went to a rock concert for Sam’s birthday–after Gabriel’s question of ‘what do you mean you’ve never been to a concert?’ had cemented them going–and halfway through it, Sam had asked him something only to find he was snoring away as if he were at home.

Sam never understood how the ball of energy was always falling asleep at the drop of a hat. Movies, sure, the giant understood falling asleep there–it’s dark and the chairs are comfortable–but a concert?

I guess some things will just always be a mystery, he sighed, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

He knew that for tomorrow to arrive faster he should really be sleeping–no one wants to look tired on their wedding day–but he just couldn’t seem to calm down enough to rest. His eyes wandered lazily over the familiar outline of the room–the pictures of them together, the dresser, and then there was his suit hanging on the closet door handle.

He couldn’t wait to wear it. Gabriel was going to go nuts over it. He’d been careful not to put it out until after he’d fallen asleep to ensure he wouldn’t sneak a peek. Sam’s eyes ran over his fiancée’s sleeping form with a smile. He couldn’t seem to quell the butterflies that were working themselves up from his stomach and made him tingle all over when he thought of seeing his face light up when he walked in with it on.

*****

 “Sammich!”

The six-year-old’s head shot up, half-fearful eyes searching for the source of the voice. He finally spotted the mop of hair bouncing towards him and groaned, Why does he always call me that? It’s not like he hated Gabe, the kid was just super annoying. He was always getting into trouble trying to be funny and Sam didn’t understand where this newfound fascination with him had come from or why. They were practically from different planets–Sam paid attention and did his work and listened to the teacher and Gabe just…. didn’t.

“Hey, Sammy! Why didn’t you sit next to me on the bus?” Gabe pulled a lollipop out of his mouth with a slurp to inspect it.

“I guess I didn’t see you,” Sam didn’t look up from his colouring. Maybe if he didn’t make eye contact, he’d go away.

“You didn’t see me?” Gabe’s head snapped up and he lost his grip on the slobbery lollipop stick, “Awww, man…” It hit the ground with a wet smack. “Grrr… That was my favourite flavour in the whole world!” Gabe pouted and dragged a chair over, “Big dope. I was waving my arms around like this,” demonstrating by waving his arms wildly above his head.

San shrugged, “It’s not my fault you’re short,” trying to hold back a laugh at how stupid he looked.

Gabe flopped his arms back down and plopped himself down in the chair next to Sam, clearly not through bothering him. He hated playtime. It wasn’t fair. They said to play however they wanted, but he always got in trouble for ‘being too noisy’ or ‘being too violent’. They were stupid rules. You shouldn’t tell people to do whatever they wanted if you were just going to yell at them later for doing it, Grown-ups…

That’s why he invented a new game. He was going to get Sam to be his friend.

Sam was the best-behaved–and most boring–kid in the class. It would be fun to see how the teacher would react seeing the best and worst kids in class hanging out together. He was a weirdo, though. The kid almost never spoke, Seriously weird. He’s got like, no friends. Besides the kids who ask him stuff, ’cause of his big, stupid brain. But he never goes to their house. Or plays with them. Or anything. He always just sits there in the corner and colours. The whole time!

Sooo weird… Gabe took it upon himself to teach Sam how to use his playtime effectively. And he knew he was actually helping out the teacher with Sam. He’d overheard her talking about his ‘under-developed social skills’ when he ‘went to the bathroom’ during library. He figured if he could help Sam be more outgoing or at least give him a friend, it’d help get the teacher off his back.

He looked around at the other kids, all of them in groups of two’s or three’s talking excitedly or laughing really loud–and then there was him and Sam, sitting in silence. He shook his head and watched him colour. That just wasn’t what playtime was for.

“Do you want to play with me?” Gabe wiggled his eyebrows.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll get me in trouble.”

“You don’t know that,” Gabe pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Uh, yeah, you will.”

“Shows what you know,” Gabe stuck out his tongue and stuffed crayons into his pants’ pockets. “We only get in trouble if we get caught.”

*****

Cas consulted his clipboard, Room… two-thirty, two-thirty, two-thirty… Wait, they’re both in room two-thirty? Hesitating in front of the closed elevator doors, he peered down the halls to his left and right, eyes narrowed. This can’t be right… Cas growled in frustration, “I don’t have time for this, people!”

“Call front desk extension, Baret Hotel,” he enunciated carefully for the talk-to-dial and a moment later connected with the front desk clerk.

“I’m the wedding planner for the Winchester Wedding party. I’m looking for the room of one of the guests in our party. The groom, actually. I have noted that his partner, Sam Winchester, is in room two-thirty. But the groom’s room is also two-thirty? This wasn’t for the honeymoon, they weren’t supposed to be in the same room.”

The front desk clerk looked up the information while he waited on hold with growing impatience. Gabriel had said it was an emergency and he needed to hurry, Oh-Em-Gee… Did he just put me on hold? Didn’t I just say I was the wedding planner? If this glorified secretarial school drop-out delays the ceremony with his incompetence, I swear to Liza Minnelli I’ll dump a bottle of Egalite on that snow white Persian carpet in the lounge as a permanent reminder not to mess with the clipboard!

The desk clerk came back on the line. Did I say Egalite? Psh, no-no-no, he’s not worth wasting a bottle of good sparkling wine on. I’ll use Merlot. Those bitches will never get that stain out.  Cas smirked in mental triumph and looked up at the wall on either side of the elevator, nodding his head as the desk clerk explained the hotel layout, “I see them,” and noted the brass signs with the names of the wings of the hotel. “I see… Horizon and Morning Star. Wait, the room numbers are the same in either wing?”

Cas rolled his eyes, “If I might make a suggestion, honey? If you want your future guests to find their way around your establishment, you may want to rethink your naming convention so anyone with a rudimentary reading comprehension can find their own way around.” He severed the connection with a huff, “The smartest thing that ever came out of that boy’s mouth was probably a penis.”

With a glance back up a the directional signs, Cas ran down the Horizon Wing to the end suite.

“What’s the big emergency?” Cas burst into the room.

“I can’t tie this friggin’ tie!” Gabriel tugged at it in frustration.

“That’s it?” Cas raised an eyebrow, but went to help him anyway.

“Yeah, that’s it! Was this thing designed by NASA or something?” Gabriel grumbled.

“Stop, you’re making it worse,” Cas slapped his hands out of the way. “What in the name of Barbra Streisand did you do to this thing? How could you have known me this long and not know how to properly tie a tie?”

“Sammy’s been doing my ties since prom,” Gabriel confessed with a blush.

Cas chuckled and shook his head, “Of course, he has.”

*****

“Sammich!”

Sam’s head whipped up at the sound and he bounded down the stairs half-dressed, almost beating Dean to the door.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Dean leaned all his weight against the door before Sam could open it.

Sam groaned, “Dean, c’mon!” He worked to get around his older brother to pull it open with no luck.

“Why’re you in such a hurry? You’re not even dressed.”

“We’re getting ready together,” Sam explained with a huff.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Dean winked.

“Ew, Dean! Gross!”

“Guess you’ve still got a few more years for that to be embarrassing… Unless tonight’s the big night…” Dean laughed suggestively.

“Dean!” Sam grunted, tugging on the door handle again. “Let him in!”

“Tonight’s the big night for what?” John came around the corner into the front hall to see what the boys were fighting about. This time.

“Oh great…” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean, let the kid in, it’s freezing outside,” John glowered at his eldest.

Dean took his time moving off the door and sauntered over to stand beside his father. Sam wrenched the door open and had it closed again with Gabriel squished to his chest in the same instant.

“Whoa, Sammy. You miss me or something?” Gabriel hugged him back.

“I haven’t seen you all semester!” Sam squished him closer.

“I know, I missed you, too.”

“You’re cold.” Sam nuzzled his head into his chest.

“It’s cold outside,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Aw, aren’t they adorable?” Dean broke in, smiling as the teenagers jumped apart.

The look of embarrassment on Sam’s face seemed satisfactory enough for him, because he just winked again before leaving.

“Why don’t you two go finish getting ready?” John suggested, much to Sam’s relief.

Sam nodded shyly and dragged Gabriel up the stairs two at a time, not letting go of him until they were in his room with the door closed.

“Damn, Sam, you’re sure eager,” Gabriel plopped himself down on his bed.

“No. I just don’t want you to have to endure my family,” Sam shrugged off the comment and grabbed his blazer off the doorknob.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.”

“Oh trust me. They’re that bad.”

“All right, I suppose you know them better.”

“Yep.”

Gabriel watched Sam continue to get ready in mild fascination. For someone who always seemed so well-organized, he rushed around his room throwing clothes everywhere like every other person Gabriel had met, himself included, I guess as long as he looks okay at the end, it doesn’t matter. Sam was standing in front of the mirror picking at strands of his hair.

“Are you ready?” Sam’s eyes flicked up to look at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah.” Gabriel stood up and gave him a twirl.

“You don’t have your tie on.” Sam frowned, turning around to examine him better.

“Oh, right well… I just figured I already looked awesome without it. Putting it on wouldn’t be fair to the other kids,” Gabriel rubbed a guilty hand across the back of his neck and avoided Sam’s eyes.

“Gabriel…”

“Fine! Fine. I, uh… don’t know how to tie it.” Gabriel pinned his gaze to the floor.

“What?”

“I just, I don’t know. I’m not really the fanciest dresser. It’s never come up before,” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you have it?” Sam went to Gabriel’s rescue.

Gabriel nodded and took the crumbled piece of fabric out of his pants pocket, holding it up in shame. Sam took it delicately and flicked it, somehow getting the wrinkles out before throwing it around his neck and beginning to tie it.

“How do you know how to tie one?”

Sam shrugged, “Dean taught me.”

“Dean doesn’t seem the type to wear a tie, either.”

“He’s not, but he said ‘it’ll come in handy’. And that ‘a real man knows many things, even if he doesn’t always need them’.”

“So, I’m not a real man then?”

“Not until tonight,” Sam winked with a laugh.

“S-Sam! You just made your first dirty joke!” Gabriel wrapped him up in a hug. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Yeah-yeah it’s sooo exciting.”

“But it is! Oh, Sammich, you don’t know how much this means to me. After all this time, so many years, I’ve finally taught you something!” Gabriel gushed and squeezed the giant tighter.

“Okay-okay you taught me something. Now get off me!”

*****

“There. Better?” Cas took a step back to examine his handiwork.

Gabriel ran an appreciative hand down the tie, “How does everyone else know how to do this but me?” He turned left and right to check himself from all angles in the mirror.

“You must’ve missed the meeting. There was a bulletin about it and everything,” Cas smoothed Gabriel’s shirt collar down over the tie around his neck.

“They should really send e-mails out, I’m telling you!” Gabriel flicked lint off his blazer and tugged on the lapels a bit to settle it against his shoulders more securely.

Cas took an appreciative step back, “You look good enough to be seen in public with me.”

“Oh, puh-leeze…” Gabriel smirked. “You wish you looked this good. Hell, everyone wishes they looked this good. Okay,” he clapped both his hands together in expectation, “let’s light this candle. Before something happens.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Keep the pony in the corral, Mary. Now,” he turned on his heel, “if you have no more emergencies, I’ll get back to running the wedding. Apparently everyone else was dropped on their head as a child and is incapable of making a decision without me.”

“If I look this good,” Gabriel ignored his brother, “then Sam… Oh!” He put his hand over his heart, “Be still my heart. That gorgeous hunk of burning love…” He turned himself left and right again to make another examination of his outfit. Cocking his head to one side, he got a better view of how perky his ass looked in his suit pants and then checked-out his reflection head-on.  He put his hands on his hips, “I wonder if Rough Rider makes flame-retardant condoms?”

*****

 “You rang?” Dean asked with a smile as he let himself through the hotel suite door.

He looked around with a frown–there were clothes thrown all over the place, and Sam was in the closet throwing more out onto the ground. And he was still in a tank and boxers.

“What the hell, man. You’re not dressed yet? We’re supposed to start in a half-hour.”

“Dean! My life’s over. It’s not here!” Sam gestured to the clothes on the ground, his eyes wild.

“…What’s not here?”

“My tux! You know, the one Gabriel had made for me. For our wedding,” Sam raked his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I know I packed it into the truck we sent ahead. It was in the black suit bag. It had a giant label that I wrote ‘Sam’s tux – do not touch’ on with a Sharpie just to make sure we could find it. But it’s not here!” Sam spun back around to throw more clothes on the ground.

“I’m sure it’s here somewhere. We just gotta look for it. Okay?” Dean put his hands on his brother’s shoulders in reassurance. “Just calm down. I’ll help. I mean, how far could it go. Not like it grew legs, right?”

“Gabriel was so sweet. He booked me time in the spa. You should really go down there, by the way.” He stopped whining momentarily to give his brother an aside about the spa,”I had one of those Rosemary Mint Awakening Body Wraps, y’know? I never knew peppermint could be used like that. Go ahead feel my skin. Seriously, touch it,” he shoved his arm in front of Dean’s face. “By the time I was done the ninety-minute Thai Massage, I was so relaxed. All I wanted to do was get dressed. And now I can’t find my tux,” Sam fanned himself. “This can’t be happening. How could this have happened? I can’t get married in my underwear!” Sam wailed, collapsing in a heap on the ground, holding his head in his hands.

“Whoa, hey… Relax, little brother. Don’t go all drama queen on me now,” Dean held his arms out in front of himself and made a calming gesture in Sam’s direction.. “Look, just stay there. Don’t worry about a thing. I’m the best man. I’m the guy who has your back. I’ll go look for it, okay? I’ll ask Cas. Cas will know. He knows everything,” Dean assured him on his way out of the room

“I don’t know…” Sam looked up with tears in his eyes, “Dean, what if he lost it?”

“You’re kidding, right? This is Cas we’re talking about. There’s no way Cas lost your tux. He loves that thing possibly even more than you do. Seriously, we’ll find it.” Dean assured him before disappearing out the door in a hurry.

I hope.

*****

 “Cas!” Dean yelled for his boyfriend. He caught sight of him disappearing into the reception hall. “Marco!”

“Polo-o-o!” Cas sang out and stuck his pen in the air to signal his location. “Can it wait? Kinda busy, hon,” Cas barely looked up from his clipboard as he strode into the room.

“It really can’t,” Dean ran up to him and pecked him on the cheek. “We have a problem.” He put a hand on his arm to get his attention. “Listen, Sam can’t find his tux,” he told him in a lowered tone.

“You shut your mouth,” Cas’s jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth and stopped dead in his tracks. He skewered him with a withering look, “That’s not funny, babe.”

“Well, I was just in his room. He tore the place apart. Aaand it’s not there.”

“No-no, that’s impossible. I had it sent up to his room personally. It has to be in there. I already checked it off the to-do list.” Cas flipped back a few pages on his clipboard and tapped at a line with the tip of his pen.

“I don’t know what to tell you, man, but it’s not there.” Dean shrugged.

“No, see? It’s the very first thing I did when we arrived. ‘Item 1: Deliver Sam’s tux to his room, Room 230,’” Cas read, tipping the clipboard to show the taller man.

“Please, don’t take my head off, but… are you sure?” Not prone to drama, even Dean was starting to panic. He didn’t want to see the day ruined for his little brother.

“You dare question me? Oh, honey. I had it delivered to room two-thirty, Morning Star, as soon as I got here,” Cas mumbled, looking back over his notes.

“Wait, two-thirty? No, that’s not right. Sam’s in room two-thirty.”

“Right. And Gabriel’s in room two-thirty. But in the other wing. I know because I’m the one who booked the rooms. There’s two wings, Horizon and Morning Star, and the room numbers are the same,” he held up a hand before Dean could say something. “Don’t even. I know. I already had this conversation with the desk clerk,” he rolled his eyes. “Gabriel needed a room on the west side, because none of the east side rooms have enough windows. They were further apart, but at least I didn’t have to deal with Gabriel having a claustrophobic panic attack. I have enough to worry about, y’know.”

Dean threw his hands in the air and pulled a face, “Well, whatever, okay? It’s on the list, but I just came from Sam’s room and I’m telling you, it’s not there. He’s still standing around in his underwear.” Dean crossed his arms. “Ideas?”

Cas closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples with the tips of his fingers, “I smell burnt toast. Does anyone else smell that?” Cas dropped his hands from his temples, “The delivery driver had one job. One job. Did they not give him a map of this establishment? What did I pay him for? Let that be a lesson to you.  Never tip until after you see the goods.”

“Cas, focus. You said their room numbers are the same, right? Maybe it’s not lost. What if… What if the courier just got the wings wrong and it’s just in Gabriel’s room?” Dean said with hope.

“No, I don’t think so,” Cas grumbled.

“Don’t be so negative. Why?”

“Because I only saw one tux in Gabriel’s room and he was wearing it.”

“So, you think he’s wearing Sam’s tux? Seriously. And you wouldn’t have noticed this? Remind me to take you to the eye doctor.” Dean gave him a wink, “Sam’s must be there.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was just an honest mistake with the wings and everything. I’ll go check it out and we’ll get it all sorted out and everything will be fine.”

“Honest mistake, my sweet ass,” Cas grumbled

Dean took him by the shoulders and leaned in close to his ear, “And speaking of your sweet ass, will I get to see that later?”

Dean, focus,” he pushed him off him with a smile. “You, go. I have a million and one things to do in the next,” Cas pulled out his iPhone and check his itinerary, “twenty-four minutes and counting.”

Dean grimaced, “I don’t suppose there’s a way to delay this a bit?”

Cas gave him the Look-Of-Death.

“Ooo-kay then. I’ll just run back up, grab the tux from Gabriel’s room, get Sam into it and we’re golden,” he clapped his hands together.

“Move it, Mister,” he pointed him toward the door. “We’re burning daylight!”

“Next time, I get to plan and you get to run around looking for your little brother.”

Cas looked down his nose at him in judgement, “Honey, I love you, but you couldn’t plan a peanut butter sandwich without me.”

Dean was already heading out of the reception hall and called over his shoulder, “The one time I forgot to pick up peanut butter… You’re never gonna let that one go.”

“Hurry!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“I’m the wedding planner!” Cas hurled at his retreating back.

Damn it!

*****

“Gabriel, you decent?” Dean called, knocking on the door.

“Gabriel?” He called again after a moment of silence.

He opened the door and stuck his head in, scanning the room for the trouble-maker, but not finding him. A man on a mission, he let himself in and hurried to the closet to look for Sam’s suit. “Gabriel?” He called over his shoulder while he dug around, “Dude, quit playing around.”

After not finding the suit with Gabriel’s other clothes, he took a tour of the room.  It wasn’t that big, there were only so many places the suit could be. When it became clear it wasn’t there, he stopped in the centre of the room with his hands on his hips. Now he had two problems. The groom was missing. “Fuck,” he hung his head in defeat. “Cas’s is gonna kill me.”

He pulled out his phone with a heavy sigh, “How’s my favourite wedding planner?”

What?”

“We have another problem.”

No.”

“Cas…”

“Fine. What is it now.”

“Uh, I can’t find Gabriel.”


Will they find Gabriel? What about Sam’s tux? Is the wedding ruined? Find out how it ends here!

Baby Please Come Home

Started: 17.11.30

Finished: 17.12.08

Destiel

X-Mas fic (Based on the Josh Ramsay cover of this song)


“You’re not still sulking, are you?”

“No,” the blonde sighed, his breath leaving fog on the window.

Mary eyed her son carefully, resting the box of decorations against her hip. She’d never seen him this broken-hearted over a boy. Hell, she’d never seen him this emotional over anyone, with the exception of his brother. And even that was only the one time, when Sam jumped off the shed and broke his arm.

“Good,” she moved from the doorway, placing the box down next to the one her youngest was half buried in, “then come help decorate the tree.”

Dean let out another sigh, taking one last look up and down the street before slowly sliding out of the chair and padding over to the tree in the opposite corner.

“C’mon Dean! Don’t you want to help decorate?” Sam looked up from the box he was half falling into, felt-snow stuck in his hair.

Dean chuckled, eyes crinkling at the sides with the smile, “That looks pretty good Sammy, maybe we should put you on top of the tree this year.”

“Pfft, you can’t lift me that high,” Sam shook the snow out of his hair before balling it up to throw at his brother.

“Wanna bet?”

Both boys looked to Mary, Dean’s eyes excited at the presented challenge, Sams’ showing just the slightest bit of fear.

She chuckled, before heading toward the kitchen, “I have to check the cookies.”

“… That was totally a yes.”

 

 

Dean swiped a thumb across the raven-haired mans cheek, sad smile on his face,

“I know, I know. But it’ll only be for a couple weeks, right?”

Cas sniffed and nodded, “I-I think so.”

“There, see?” he shifted his position on the bed, wrapping the shorter man up in his arms, “We can see each other when you get back. Don’t worry.”

Cas sighed, resting his head against the blondes’ chest, working to get his breathing under control. Dean closed his eyes, wanting to commit the feeling to memory – he’d definitely need it once he was gone. He inhaled deeply, before placing a kiss to the top of his head, this is gonna be harder than I thought… how am I gonna sleep without him next to me?

It hadn’t really been that long – at least according to his calendar – but he felt a connection to the younger man, he couldn’t quite explain it but it was like they were supposed to be together. From that first time he saw the kid smile, he knew, somehow that they’d end up together. Whoa, he shook his head slightly, enough of the girly shit. He’s not even gone yet and I’m already thinking like that?

He tightened his grip around the man, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head as he felt his breath even out, this is gonna be a long two weeks.

 

 

Where is he?, Dean angrily checked his cell for the millionth time, he’s supposed to be back today. His eyes flicked up to the calendar, day circled in red – he’d been eagerly crossing the days off until Cas’ return, but he had yet to get any kind of confirmation that he was back. No missed call, text, e-mail – he even checked the mailbox just in case he sent a real letter. There was nothing.

Dean was not happy.

He cried out in frustration, pounding a fist down on his desk, where the hell are you? He got up and paced the length of his room, combing through his memory, I’m sure he said he’d be back today… maybe I got the day wrong? He hopped up on his bed, checking his window again, gripping the sill with white knuckles, c’mon Cas…

“Dean! Dinner!”

“Okay!” he climbed down from his bed, before snatching his phone off his desk, subconsciously saddened when he checked it again to see no new notifications.

Where are you?

 

 

“Why’re you being such a chick?”

“Sam!” Mary whacked the back of his head, “Don’t make fun of your brother.”

Sam frowned but mumbled a sorry, before grabbing a sparkler out of her hand, “how long has he been gone now, anyway?”

“Tomorrow will be six weeks,” the blonde unenthusiastically took the other, twirling it absently, eyes creeping back to the window.

“Why don’t you call him?” Mary led the trio out the sliding back door to the deck, taking the lighter out of her pocket, “See what’s going on?”

Dean sighed, leaning against the railing, “I can’t… his voicemail is full and it doesn’t even ring anymore,” he began picking at the end of the sparkler, eyes on the ground, “He must’ve turned it off or something.”

“Maybe he died.”

“Sam!”

It. I meant maybe it died.”

Mary shot a look to her youngest before wrapping an arm around Deans’ shoulders, “I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon, just give it time.”

“That’s all I’ve been giving him…”

“Can you at least pretend to have a good time tonight?” she dug the lighter out of her pocket, “I don’t want you to start the New Year being sad.”

“Yeah…,” the blonde starred blankly at the flame, shoulders slouching with the weight of missing his other half.

There was a moment of silence as Mary crossed to light Sams’, noting his eyes didn’t leave his brother. He was watching him as he half-heartedly drew in the air with his sparkler, studying him. She’d seen that look on her youngests’ face a thousand times – usually it was reserved for working out a particularly difficult math problem – he was calculating his next move. What are you planning?

“Don’t worry, Mom, I got this,” he whispered with a smile.

She furrowed her brow in confusion as Sam began twirling his sparkler around, inching himself closer and closer to his brother until their sparklers’ crashed together, sending a huge spray of sparks through the air.

“Watch it, Dean,” he elbowed him, “I don’t want to have to explain why you have no eyebrows once school’s back.”

Dean tore his eyes away from his sparkler to look at the youngest, quirking an eyebrow, “Oh c’mon, as if I’d let you. If anything you’d be the one missing eyebrows.”

“Who says I need you to let me?” Sam elbowed him again, waving his sparkler dangerously close to his brothers’ face.

Mary took a step forward, he wouldn’t actually-

“Let you? Oh please, I could burn yours off way before you ever got close enough to mine.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Sam held his sparkler out in front of him like a sword, “If you can reach them, I’ll let you.”

Dean’s face lit up with a smile, poising his in the same fashion, “You’re on.”

Mary sighed in relief and watched as they began their duel. Somehow, her youngest was always able to brighten Dean’s day, no matter what had happened. Even after John died, and Dean had shut himself down – his grades started slipping, he’d stopped eating, barely spoke to anyone, woke up in the middle of the night screaming – all Sam had to do was jump on his head – literally. He’d tackled him to the ground, wrestling around in the backyard until the blonde eventually broke down in tears. After that? He went back to normal. She had no idea how he always managed to know, but she was forever grateful her boys’ were able to lean on each other.

“Hey, Mom! He’s cheating!” Sams’ cries broke her out of her thoughts.

She chuckled as she saw Dean had wrestled him to the ground, sitting on his chest. Dean laughed, raising a fist in triumph. Mary closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the sound of his laugh. It had been too long since she last heard it. She breathed out a relaxed sigh, leaning herself against the wall to the house as she looked over her two boys – Dean’s posture had straightened, shoulders puffed up with pride – no longer weighed down with worry or sadness. As if he’s forgot about Cas… at least for the moment. Sam turned his face to the side, out of view from his brother – who was currently victory crying into the night sky – pout giving way to a small smile and a wink.

Thank-you, Sammy.


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(So Much For) My Happy Ending

Written: 17.07.20

Wincest


“How could you do this to me? To us? What the hell were you thinking,” Sam stopped pacing the living room floor and took a swing at the wall.

Fuck, he left a hole in the drywall and was pretty sure he at least sprained his hand, that’s just what we need, one more thing to try to fix.

“Who said I was thinking?”

He rolled his eyes and started pacing again, “Oh yeah, Dean that’s great. Joke about it.”

“Well what else do you expect me to do?” the blonde crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know, you apparently do what you want, so…”

“I’ve already told you I’m sorry! I have yelled it through the front door all night until I was blue in the face! What else am I supposed to do here? You gotta-”

“No, Dean,” Sam’s voice was hard, the tone he used when he was finishing something he didn’t want to talk about, “I don’t gotta do anything. I have every right to be angry with you,” he began to walk away, to the kitchen, up the stairs, Pluto–it didn’t matter–he just needed to leave before he said something he’d regret.

“It’s not like this is easy for me either.”

“Oh no,” Sam spun around, eyebrow arched and strode over to the shorter man, huffing in anger, “well I’m so sorry that your cheating is an inconvenience.”

“It’s not like that, I told you,” Dean’s eyes searched his lover’s face, not finding anything but anger.

Sam snorted and turned back away again, running his hands through his hair, “Then please, tell me. What was it like?”

Dean dropped his gaze to the floor, searching for the right words, keeping his voice low, “I didn’t mean to do it.”

“What? I’m sorry can you speak up?”

“I didn’t mean to do it, okay,” he raised his eyes to hold the death stare he felt drilling into his soul, “I didn’t! I just…” he knew there was no way he could possibly finish that sentence in a way that would make his brother calm down.

Sam balled his hands into fists again, “Just what? You just slipped and fell into his ass dick first?”

The blonde opened his mouth to speak, but wasn’t sure what to say. He willed the tears that were threatening to spill over not to. Don’t be such a wuss, c’mon! Man the fuck up!

Sam swallowed thickly and nodded his head, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Damn it! “Sammy, I’d never just throw all this away for some random hook-up,” he took a shaky breath and softened his voice, “After everything we’ve been through? All the dirty looks we used to get? Getting kicked out,” he took a few steps toward him, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his lover, “Having to change states just so that we were far enough away from the hate? Far enough where we could finally feel safe again? Do you really think I could just forget all that?”

Sam stayed quiet for a moment, clearly processing what his brother had just said. He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he did so. “How many times?”

Dean took a step back in surprise, brow furrowing at the question, “How many times what?”

“How many times did you… see him?”

“Sam-”

“How many times did you have sex with him?”

Sam started pacing again, feeling too much to keep his body still.

“I,” the pleading eyes that his brother turned on him broke his heart, “I didn’t.”

Sam looked away and blinked back his tears, “Oh, don’t try to deny it, Dean. I caught you in bed with him!”

Dean winced at the memory and hung his head, “No, Sam–I didn’t… we never just had sex. We…,” God this is gonna make me sound like such a chick, “we made love.”

“You made love?” Sam stopped dead in his tracks and laughed dryly, “I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized we were living in a rom-com.”

“No, Sammy,” the blonde huffed as he ran a hand through his hair, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Dean?”

“That’s just… when we,” he took a huge breath and turned cautious eyes onto his brothers’ face, “when you caught us… we – we weren’t just doing it – we have a connection. I feel… connected to him. Like he sees me for me.”

The shock on Sam’s face was enough to shatter his heart, “And I don’t? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Dean ran a shaking hand through his hair, how the fuck am I supposed to fix this? “Of course you do.”

“Okay,” the brunette placed a hand on his hip, “what the hell is it like then, Dean?”

“I love him, okay?” And now I’m crying… Great.

“You love him? You love him?”

Shit, Dean closed his eyes and failed at calming himself, “Look, we both know that this,” he opened his eyes and took a cautious step forward, “us, being together… it’s not right.”

Sam backed away, shaking his head, “Not right for who?”

Dean blinked, “What?”

“Us being together isn’t right for who, exactly? We got dirty looks from everyone in town, got hate mail, people started spray painting our garage, we quit our jobs, we moved three fucking states away from our home, friends and family, we got disowned by our family, we did all of this – I did all of this – because you asked me to. Because you told me it would be okay. That we’d figure it out.”

“I thought we could, Sammy, we did for years! I didn’t meet him right away,” ignoring the snort he continued, “what we had, was real. I care about you the most in the world, but I… I can’t get over the fact that I’m always gonna be watching out for you.”

Sam gave him an incredulous look, “What does that have to do with anything? I watch out for you too.”

“No, it’s different,” he took a deep breath and steeled himself against the anger he knew was coming, “I’ve always been looking out for my little brother – for you ­– and I can’t… I can’t separate that from being with you. I think, that maybe,” he closed his eyes and licked his lips, please, God, forgive me, “I think that I might’ve confused protecting you for a different kind of love. You can try to understand that, can’t you?”

“Y-yeah.”

Dean opened his eyes and looked at his brother, “Really?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Oh, great,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “I was worried you wou– wait, where are you going?”

Sam had made his way over to the front door, “Since you’re so sickened by the sight of me, I might as well leave.”

“Wha-? Sam,” Dean rushed over to the door, placing a hand on his arm “I never said I was sickened by you.”

“I’ll send someone to get my stuff later.”

The icy statement made Dean physically recoil, “Sammy, c’mon. You can’t just-”

“Thanks for letting me know I wasted the past three years of my life.”


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