Tag Archives: fic

Vac-Ache-tion (Preview)


Started: 19.08.21

Finished: 19.08.22

Words: 496

Samifer (implied), Gen., Fluff

“Why are you being such a baby about this?” Sam raised a questioning eyebrow, “Just come with us.”

“Why won’t you take no for answer?” Lucifer grit his teeth, hands balling into fists before he disappeared into thin air.

Whoa, The hunter sat on the edge of the couch, running a hand through his hair, what the hell was that about?




Sam sat up in bed, looking around the dark room, hey.

Relax, I’m not there.

Oh, he settled back against the pillows, going back to his laptop, are you ready to tell me what the hell that was all about?

He heard a sigh, and could picture the fallen angel scrubbing a hand down his face, I shouldn’t of got that worked up.

No shit.

But you should’ve stopped pushing it, too.

I wasn’t trying to push you. Sams’ stopped on the line he was reading, not actually taking in the information anyway, I just thought you’d have fun. And I’d really like it if you came with us.

I know… I just… I can’t…

Can’t what?

Keep reading here!

Satanic Mechanic (Preview)


Title based on the line from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Finished: 17.10.23

Words: 2,271

NFF, 2017’s Halloween Fic

“Damn it!”

She kicked the car out of frustration and sighed, running her hands through her hair, of all the days, you decide to crap out on me now? She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up, searching for a signal.

“Great, that’s just great,” she pocketed the device before looking up and down the stretch of road she was on.

There was nothing but trees on either side, and she couldn’t see anything past the giant hill up ahead. She began walking up the road, the same way she was driving and pulled her jacket tighter against her chest, this is literally how every horror movie starts.

After a few minutes of walking, she saw a truck appear over the edge of the hill. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop… the truck slowed as it approached her, and the driver’s window rolled down, of course.

“Excuse me, Miss? Need a lift?”

Damn, he’s cute, and that accent… she gave the stranger a once over, No! Focus, girl, focus. On the one hand, he might actually want to help, but on the other, her eyes darted to the bed of the truck, wishing she was two inches taller, he could be a serial killer or something…

“Ma’am?” He leaned out the window a bit, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at his voice, making her dip her head so he missed her blush.

Fuck it.

She brought her gaze back to his face and smiled, “Sorry.”

He’s too cute to be a serial killer.

 “Do you happen to know where the closest mechanic shop is?” she pointed back over her shoulder, “My car broke down.”

He followed her finger before turning back, “Looks like it’s your lucky day,” he started his truck and drove the few feet forward, stopping again beside her car.

“Hey!” She jogged after him, what the hell is he doing?

She watched as he jumped out of his truck, before striding over to her car, lifting the hood.

“What, uh, what are you doing?” She kept a small distance between them, just in case.

He shut the hood and smiled at her, “I’m the only mechanic in town,” he began hooking her car up to the back of his truck.


“Yep, I was just on my way out to get a few parts,” he went to the passenger side of his truck, wrenching the door open before looking to her, “How lucky is that?”

A little too lucky.


Wasn’t Ted Bundy attractive?

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Injuries and Winchesters


Written: 14.07.01

Gen. Sick!fic, xReader

“Hey, where are you?” You hear one of the boys yell from the front door.

“I’m on the couch!” You yell back, punctuating it with a cough.

You hear some shuffling around and the scrape of him taking his boots off before you see a head poke in the doorway. Well, more like a mop of hair popped itself into the doorway.

Guess that means I know whose back. You thought, coughing again as you chuckled.

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” Sam asked, stepping into the room to come sit beside you on the couch.

“I’m really good, actually.” You lied, with fake enthusiasm.

He nodded and hugged you, almost cutting your limited air supply off.

“You don’t have to be strong, for us. I know it must be a bitch.” Sam said, holding you out by the shoulders, studying your face.

“No, really, I’m feeling better.” You stated, trying to look at him with your ‘I’m not lying’ face.

“How could you call her a bitch?” Dean exclaimed, walking into the room, looking at his brother with a smirk.

“I didn’t!” Sam exclaimed, eyes going wide under his hair.

“I believe that Dean is what is commonly referred to as ‘teasing’ you, Sam.” Cas stated, popping into the room right behind Dean.

“Damn it Cas!” Dean swore, jumping slightly.

“I apologize Dean, it’s hard for me to gage how close to others I will be when popping into a room that is so…small.” Cas explained, looking around the tiny space, as if in wonder.

Dean glared at the angel before walking over to sit on the arm of the couch that your head wasn’t on. Sam was looking at Cas like he still hadn’t gotten used to the angel randomly popping in on them (which made you laugh because it had only been seven years). You moved to push yourself up on the couch, so you weren’t taking up all the space, when Sam put his hand on your chest, pushing you back down slightly.

“You shouldn’t try to move yet, you’re still in a lot of pain.” He explained, gently taking his hand off you when he’d noticed Dean’s eyebrow’s shoot up.

“No I’m not.” You protested, but allowed yourself to be pushed back down anyway.

“Cas, can’t you just angel mojo it away or something?” Dean asked, clearly not liking that you were injured for so long.

“Dean, we’ve already been over this, I can’t heal this type of wound. If I were to intervene it would possibly make it worse.” Cas explained, taking a couple steps closer to you.

“Wait, when did you go over this? And why haven’t I heard about it?” You asked, looking between the boys around you.

Sam looked down in guilt, Dean looked away, starring at the off T.V like it was the most interesting thing on the planet, and Cas just tilted his head in confusion, being the only one who didn’t take his eyes off you.

“You didn’t explain the complications?” He questioned, eyes flicking up to Dean.

“No, they didn’t. I was told you were too busy with the war and being hunted to have time to pop by.” You informed the angel through gritted teeth, sitting up against the arm of the chair, none of the boys noticing.

“Dean, why would you keep something as important as that from someone?” Cas asked, still seriously confused.

“Yeah Dean, why would you keep that from me?” You questioned, glaring at the hunter.

“It’s not just my fault – Sam could’ve said something about it too!” Dean defended, looking up to the angel with daggers.

“Hey!” Sam cried, looking up to his brother in shock.

“Don’t give me that, you know you could’ve and you didn’t, so I shouldn’t be getting all the blame for this.” Dean stated, standing up.

“At least I only found out this morning!” Sam yelled back, also standing.

“Were you going to tell me Sam?” You asked, curling yourself slightly closer to the back of the couch – sometimes you forgot how giant those boys were until they got angry.

“You did not! I saw you talking to Cas a week ago!” Dean accused, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sam’s face suddenly drained and he took a step away from his brother. He momentarily turned to flick his eyes over to the aforementioned angel before looking back at his brother and swallowing thickly.

“Y-you saw us talking or you heard us talking?” Sam stuttered, voice losing it’s menacing tone, making him sound like a frightened kid.

“What’s the difference?” Dean asked confused, his anger disappearing as well.

“Uh – nothing.” Sam replied quickly, eyes shifting down to look at the floor.

“Sam?” Dean questioned, eyes narrowing.

Sam turned his back to his brother, which you assumed meant he was heading toward the door to leave the room, when the angel popped up in front of him. Sam jumped back slightly surprised at the sudden occupied space in front of him.

“Sam, I think it’s time to tell them.” Cas informed, his gravely voice making it almost unnecessary for him to attempt to whisper.

You turned yourself around slightly, resting your arms on the back of the couch so you could continue to watch the action before you, regardless of the sharp pull from your injury.

One thing that continued to surprise you was that even though you’d been with the trio for a fair amount of time, mostly everything they did seemed like it was being done in a movie-esque way, as if begging for someone to swoop in and capture it on film.

“Yeah Sam, I think it’s time you tell me.” Dean piped up, his angry stare back now that he knew his brother had been keeping something from him.

Sam’s head went down and even though you couldn’t see, you just knew he’d closed his eyes. Cas dipped his head, as if wanting to get the hunter to look at him before placing a hand on his shoulder and his face softened immensely, conveying the most emotion you’d ever seen from the angel. Sam lifted his head up to meet the angel’s eyes and they seemed to be having a conversation in their heads before the hunter nodded reluctantly and turned back to face you and his brother.

Cas dropped his hand off Sam’s shoulder but let it dangle dangerously close to his hand, their fingers just barely brushing against each other.

“Sam, what have you been keeping from me?” Dean demanded, clearly getting sick of the wait.

“It’s really not that big of a-”

“Just tell me damn it!” Dean yelled, stomping closer to his brother, looking ready to punch him.

Suddenly, Cas was between the two brothers, oddly enough protecting Sam from the one person who was sworn to protect him. You looked between the boys, not sure if you should try and intervene or not, although considering that was how you  got injured in the first place, you were leaning more toward not bothering to step in. You gasped in pain and doubled over slightly, clutching at your side as you felt new, cool waves of liquid start to seep out of it.

“Dean,-” Sam was cut off by your gasp of pain.

You doubled over slightly, clutching at your side as you felt new, cool waves of liquid start to seep out of it, gritting your teeth, still trying to not show them how injured you actually were.

“Damn it!” Dean swore, running out of the room, hopefully to grab the first aid kit.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re gonna be fine.” Sam muttered, suddenly taking up the space in front of you, one of his giant hands on your shoulders.

All you could do was nod back in response, and try to keep the tears from falling down your face. Cas was suddenly beside Sam, his one hand on your other shoulder, the only way he’d figured out how to comfort a person. You pressed your hands harder into your side, and gave the boys a weak smile.

Dean strode back into the room, holding a few towels and the first aid kit. He glared at his brother, getting Sam to move, however slightly.

“Sammy, I’m gonna need more room than that if I’m gonna patch it up.” Dean ground out, obviously impatient.

“Why don’t I stitch it back up?” Sam offered, holding his hands out to receive the items.

“Damn it Sam! We don’t have time for this!” Dean exclaimed, throwing the items down before stomping back out of the room.

“I will go make sure he doesn’t do anything he’ll regret.” Cas stated before disappearing, leaving you alone with the youngest.

“I’m gonna need to move your hands away so I can get a good look at it, okay?” Sam asked, looking at you cautiously.

“Of course.” You replied, taking your hands away slowly, trying to hide your wince.

You absolutely hated how he was still the only one walking on eggshells around you, it wasn’t even his fault and yet he felt guilty. If any of them should be feeling guilty, it should’ve been the eldest, not the one who’d patched it up in the first place.

He pulled your shirt up slowly, watching your face for any signs of additional pain, which you had to admit was starting to piss you off – he should know by now that you weren’t a freakin’ china doll! You could take a hit – from Dean no less and not be reduced to a pile of tears, they needed more faith in you than they did.

“Sam, I’m fine. Just stitch it up so Dean can come back.” You stated, with a small smile.

“You want Dean to come back? Last I checked you liked it better when he wasn’t around.” Sam stated, raising an eyebrow as he set to work, wiping away the blood with one of the towels.

“Well, I’d rather have him in here than trashing some place else.” You reasoned, watching his hands to avoid looking at his face.

You knew that instead of what you’d actually said, he’d heard, ‘I’d rather have him take it out on me then something that doesn’t deserve it.’ Which bugged the hell out of you – you had gotten way to close to these boys.

“You know Cas and I wouldn’t let that happen.” He replied, eyes flicking up to your face.

“Speaking of you and Cas, were you actually going to tell him?” You asked, hoping to change the subject.

Sam let out a small laugh at that as he put the towel down and shook his head, picking up the needle.

“I was thinking about it, but Cas doesn’t want to tell him, he knew how pissed he’d be. So no, we’re not gonna tell him yet.” Sam answered, beginning to stitch your wound up.

“Of course he’s gonna be pissed but the longer you wait to tell him, the more pissed he’ll be. I’d say to get it over with and bear the enraged monster now.” You stated, with a small smile.

“I’m an enraged monster now, am I?” Dean asked, walking back into the room.

You looked up to him, still smiling as you pretended to give him a once over, before nodding, earning you a pillow to the head.

“Hey! I’m not done stitching yet!” Sam cried with a laugh, throwing the pillow back to his brother.

“Well hurry it up, Bitch. We got stuff to do.” Dean replied, his smirk returning.

Sam just shook his head and went back to stitching you up. You looked at his face, trying to gauge if he would reply but it became evident he wouldn’t.


Sam’s head shot up and Dean’s eyes widened as they both looked at you, jaws agape.

“What? Sam wasn’t going to say because he was busy, so I figured I’d fill in.” You shrugged, smiling at their matching expressions.

The brother’s looked to each other, expressions staying the same before looking back to you again. You started laughing at their faces – for men who claimed to only deliver bad news, they sure knew how to make someone laugh.

“What kind of stuff do we have to do?” Sam asked, slowly pulling your shirt back down and putting the needle away.

“We gotta talk about how long you’ve been dating a certain angel.” Dean deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sam looked up to his brother again, trying to see if he was serious or not.

“I haven’t been dating an angel Dean. Who told you that?” Sam asked, standing up and moving away to throw the bloody towels away.

“Doesn’t matter who told me. What matters is I know.” Dean stated.

“What does Dean know?” Cas asked, almost falling over the arm of couch as he popped in.

“Dean says someone told him I’ve been dating an angel.” Sam explained, throwing the towels away before walking back to sit on the coffee table.

“Did he say who?” Cas asked again, looking to the mentioned Winchester.

“Doesn’t matter who told me, what matters is I know.” Dean repeated, looking to the angel.

“Should this not wait until one of us isn’t seriously injured?” Cas suggested, taking a few steps so he was standing in front of you.

“I’m fine.” You replied automatically.

Cas gave you an ‘oh please’ look that would’ve been comical if not for the growing tension in the room.

“Cas is right, we can sort this out after we take of this.” Sam nodded, putting a hand on your knee.

Dean looked at the three of you before sighing and visibly deflating, nodding as he gave in.

“Fine, but I’m so kicking your ass after.”


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Written: 16.06.23

Smut, DeanxReader

“Hey,” Dean greeted you at the door with a thousand watt smile and a kiss, “how was your last day? You excited to be done?”

You shrugged your bag off and rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, “I’m not done-done, I just finished this year.”

“Still,” he pulled you into his arms and squeezed you to his chest, “I’m proud of you, Sweety.”

“Okay, geez,” you snorted with laughter and lightly pushed against him, “can we be done with the mushiness?”

Done-done or just done for this year?”

“Oh ha-ha,” you tried to step back again without success, “Dean, I need to shower.”

“Excellent,” he swung you around in a circle, expertly getting your feet off the ground and began walking you over to the bathroom.

“D-Dean, wh…,” you cut off your question to protest as he threw you up in the air, “No-no-no-no-no,” he caught you just in time for you to hit his arm, “Don’t do that!”

“Oh, c’mon, you know I’d never drop you.”


“Of course, you’re too adorable.”

“Why do you always do that?”

“I just like when you hold me tighter,” he winked and kicked the bathroom door closed, placing you down on the counter beside the sink.

“Yeah, well, you could always just ask, instead of giving me a heart attack,” you slid your shirt off as you spoke and smirked as you watched his eyes drift to your chest.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded in agreement but his eyes never left your cleavage.

Have I really been that busy with school? You leaned forward and pushed out your chest, making them appear bigger than they already were, “You like what you see?”

“Ooohhh, baby.”

The breathless reply shot straight to your vag, leaving a trail of goose bumps as your body woke up. You reached behind you and undid the clasp of your bra, being sure you kept the garment to your chest. A sharp breath in escaped his lips and you could see his shorts were tented. He leaned closer to you, but didn’t make a move to touch. As if he was mesmerized by your little show.

Maybe it has been a while…

You carefully let one strap fall, then the other, still not removing the offending object completely. His emotions fought over his face, mainly between desperation and annoyance, but the man still didn’t move.

“Good boy,” you teased, before completely exposing your chest.

Now that your breasts weren’t covered, Dean’s expression softened to adoration. He took a small step forward and lowered his head, gently sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Ooohhh,” you cooed and closed your eyes at the touch, loving the electric wave that moved through you.

You felt a rush of wetness from your opening and was surprised by your body’s intense reaction to your man’s slight touch, Okay, clearly it has been that long.

Somehow finding the strength within yourself, you gently pushed his head away from your chest and jumped off the counter, “Lock the door.”

Sure, you loved Sam, but if he walked in on you doing his brother again you’d have no choice but to move.

Dean did as instructed faster than you thought was possible and was back to being rooted in place while you wiggled out of your jeans.

“No panties?”

You bent at the waist and stuck your ass out for him to admire as you turned on the water.


“What,” you flipped your hair and turned your head to face him, faking innocence.

“You look so good like that,” he licked his lips and stepped closer.

“Like what,” you baited, giving a playful wink as you wiggled your ass.

“Like this,” he grabbed your hips and pulled your ass back to meet his crotch, “bent over, ass up… Mmm baby, would love to pound you like this.”

You smiled at him and straightened back up, pressing your naked body close against him, “Why don’t we save that for later, and shower before wasting all the hot water?”

You then pulled down his shorts before stepping into the bathtub, hiding behind the shower curtain.

Dean chuckled before stepping in after you, completely naked. You exchanged appreciative looks at the other’s body—your eyes lingering on the hard on that was dangling between his legs—before he turned around to face the spray, wetting his hair.

“I love seeing you all wet and hard for me,” you pressed a kiss to his back and snaked your one arm around to his front.

“I-,” he let out a small sigh as your hand enclosed his shaft, “I thought we needed to shower?”

“We are showering, silly,” you pressed another kiss to his back and continued to massage his dick.

“We won’t be if you keep that up.”

You chuckled and let go, trading places so you could stand under the spray.

“Mmm,” you closed your eyes at the relaxing feel of the water, “this feels so good.”

“It’s a pretty decent picture too,” Dean chuckled, wrapping his arms around you to cup your breasts.

A small coo escaped your lips and you leaned yourself back into the touch, “this is a good way to celebrate.”

“Yeah,” he brought his head down to your shoulder to whisper in your ear, “you liking this, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you felt him slide one of his hands down across your stomach to your lips.

He rubbed at it slowly, dragging his finger over your slit, but not going deeper.

“Mmm, De,-”

“Ssshhh,” he pressed a kiss to just behind your ear, “let me take care of you.”

And take care of you he did.

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Secrets Are Bad, Dudes


Written: 15.01.29

Gen. Sick!Dean

“Whaddya say, Dean?”

Dean’s head whipped up and to the side, looking over to see his brother looking at him expectantly.

“Uh, yeah – sure. Sounds great.” Dean replied, putting on a fake smile as they made their way to the car.

Whatever Sam had asked, that seemed to be the answer he was hoping for, since he returned the smile and (thankfully) slid into the driver’s seat.

Keep it together! Dean thought to himself, trying to stifle the cough that tried escaping from his throat as he got in the other side.



What Sam had asked, apparently, had everything to do with extra bacon, extra grease, and extra hyper-awareness of everything Dean was doing. Which is how Dean found himself here, starring back at his reflection in the men’s bathroom of a diner a few blocks away from the motel they were staying at while they chased down this hunt.

He looked back at himself in surprise – he was looking nothing close to the complete crap he felt like. He felt as though he was sweating through his clothes, his head felt like it was on fire and all his bones felt like Jell-O.

How the hell was he supposed to stuff down those burgers while the mere smell of them made him nauseous? Even just thinking about putting them in his mouth made his stomach clench. There was no way he could do it, and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to order soup, as that would be a giant red flag to Sam that something wasn’t right, and he’d be damned if he made Sam worry about him this close to just getting him back.

Could this be some sort of Purgatory sickness? Dean didn’t think so, otherwise it would’ve shown up closer to when he got out – not two weeks later – right?

It’s probably just the flu. He thought before doubling over as he started coughing violently.

He watched as he spat a mixture of mucus and blood into the sink.

Okay, definitely not the flu…He turned the tap on and rinsed whatever it was down the drain, gathering water into his hands to splash over his face.

He jumped a mile at the knock on the door, feeling his heart pound out of his chest.

“Dean?” Sam called in cautiously.

“Yeah?” Dean croaked, before clearing his throat.

“Food’s getting cold.” Sam’s voice was closer to the door, and more concerned.

“I’m fine Sammy – be right out.” Dean replied.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in as he heard the footsteps retreat and took one last look at himself in the mirror.

“I’m fine.” He breathed, trying to convince himself before going out to face his brother.

That wasn’t a complete lie – he was decidedly better off with whatever this was then when he was in 360 degree combat down downstairs.

He could do this.



He could not do this.

Or, at least – not for much longer. It was getting harder to hide his symptoms from Sam, and he knew his brother wasn’t an idiot – he was catching on. And even if by some miracle he hadn’t yet, he would.

Dean was rummaging around in the trunk, searching for some cold medicine. He’d gone from just feeling nauseous and sweaty to actually sweating through his shirts and getting insanely dizzy and winded, even after the shortest trips.

It was getting more annoying than anything else.

And why didn’t Sam have any medicine in the car?


He shook his head and tried to not focus on the answer to his question, which was easy enough since shaking his head made him regret it immediately.

“I’m too old for this crap.” He mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to not focus on the spinning in his head.

He tried to take some deep breaths, to calm himself and only ended up having a coughing fit – which ended in bloody puke being pushing past his lips. He waited until he was just dry heaving before deciding he was alright enough to straighten up and open his eyes, wiping the tears away and being grateful no one was around to see him.

“Oh, c’mon!” He sighed, wrinkling his nose at the puke in the back seat.

That was definitely going to be a bitch to clean, especially at – he checked his watch – 2:30 in the morning.

Well that’s just great. He thought, scrubbing a hand down his face.



Finally. Dean sighed, his aching body hitting the mattress, barely glancing at the clock that read 4:30.

He’d scrubbed the spot until his hands were raw before thinking of how odd it would look if just the back seat was clean, so he ended up giving Baby a complete cleaning, oil change and tire checks included.

He’d also broke down and walked to the closest drug store (which seemed much father away when he kept stopping every two minutes to catch his breath and wait out his swimming vision) in the hopes of buying some of the good stuff, or at the least, stealing it.

But apparently the drug store wasn’t open that late (imagine that) and he was too tired to break in, so he walked back empty handed, which felt as if it took at least double the amount it did to get there.

Least I can sleep now. He thought, letting himself relax into the crappy excuse for a bed.

“Dean – time to get up.”

Dean groaned and flinched his leg back at the slap but otherwise didn’t move.

“Dean, c’mon – let’s go!” Sam yelled, throwing what Dean assumed was his duffle on top of him, knocking the wind from his lungs.

His eyes flew open and he bolted upright, gasping for breath, hands instinctively going up to his chest, his duffle falling to the ground.

“You got ten minutes!” Sam called before the door closed.

Dean grumbled and looked at the clock – 5:00am.


He went to stretch his arms over his head but was stopped by a shooting pain blazing from his right shoulder.

Great, now what? He thought, making his way to the bathroom for a shower.

He was stunned by his reflection – he’d gone pale as a sheet and his eyes looked sunken.

“Jesus.” He breathed, bringing a hand up to touch his face, making sure it was really him.

He started the water and peeled his sweat-soaked shirt off carefully, not liking the way his whole upper body complained – apparently he was too old for this. He stepped in carefully and sighed as the water hit his body, feeling the heat envelope him like a blanket.

Dean hadn’t even realized he was freezing until that moment. He held his head under the water and closed his eyes, smiling as he felt the pounding of water on his scalp. The steam was also helping clear his sinuses and, dare he say – he didn’t feel like complete crap in that moment.

Naturally, he was wrong and dropped to his knees just in time to feel bile fly past his lips for the second time that night. He reached his hand out to steady himself against the wall, the physical connection also helping him to distinguish which way was up.

“Dean! Let’s go!”

“Alright!” He yelled back, internally cursing himself for his voice breaking.

He rinsed his mouth out before turning the water off and grabbing a towel, carefully stepping out of the tub and failing, slipping on the tile floor, before a quick spin of colours went passed his eyes and he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head.


He heard Sam burst in the door but couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, which he knew somewhere in the back of his mind wasn’t a good thing – but was really too tired to care. He felt a change in altitude and a quick wave of nausea come over him, but defiantly swallowed it down, sending him into a round of coughing.

“Whoa – hey, breath, just breath.” Sam cooed, rubbing circles into his back.

Sam stopped as soon as the coughs did and Dean felt a shift in the air – confirming his suspicion that he coughed up blood.

“Dean, I need you to open your eyes.” Sam requested his voice low but concerned.

“T’red.” Dean replied, trying to turn his head away from the sudden onslaught of light.

“Yeah, I know you’re tired, but I need you to stay with me Dean. Okay? Just stay with me.” Sam said, not quite able to hide the rising panic in his voice.

“M’kay S’mmy.” Dean reassured, weakly bringing his hand up to pat his arm.

“Yeah, you’ll be okay Dean. Don’t worry.” Sam said hastily.

Dean relaxed more at those words and welcomed the blackness that threatened to overtake him, acutely aware that Sam was still talking in the background.



Dean came to slowly, feeling himself lying on a mattress – a good mattress.

His eyes flew open and he bolted into a sitting position, choking on a tube that was down his throat, before hearing what sounded like sirens and seeing a bunch of nurses rush into the room, some pushing him down and one empting a needle into one of his feeds.


“Mr. Weston, how nice of you to join us.” The doctor greeted.

Dean looked around cautiously – it was bad enough he didn’t remember what the hell happened, but he woke up in a hospital.

“You gave us quite a scare.” She continued, walking to the end of the bed to grab his chart.

“You’re looking good now though – no doubt you’re feeling better?” She asked, peering at him from over her glasses.

“W-where the hell am I?” Dean stammered, his heart speeding up and mind going directly into hunter mode.

“You’re at Ramsay General. You don’t remember coming here yesterday?” She sounded almost skeptical.

He shook his head and felt his heart sink – he most certainly did not remember.

“You’re cousin called you in early yesterday morning, around five I believe-”

“Shit.” Dean swore, cutting her off.

“I’m sorry?” The doctor asked, looking offended.

“No, not you. S-my uh, my cousin – he must be worried. Can I see him?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Mr. Weston, while I applaud you for wanting to get going and not wallow, I don’t think you understand the full sight of what your body’s been through. You were about an inch away from death when you got here, and although you’ve made tremendous progress – I’d recommend you don’t over do it. We wouldn’t want to see you back here so soon, would we?”

“Mr. Kroger – please! You’re not allowed-”

At that moment Sam and a worried looking nurse burst through the door, her face red, Sam’s eyes going directly to the doctor.

“I’m sorry, Miss. He insisted.” The nurse said, a blush creeping up her face.

“You said twenty-four hours.” Sam stated, voice low, looking at her as if she were prey.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” The doctor asked, looking nothing but amused at the intruder.

“Five minutes.” She allowed before walking out and motioning for the nurse to follow her.

Dean took in how wrecked his brother looked – he was going to get one hell of a chew-out for this, he could tell.

“Sam – listen, I’m-”

Dean cut himself off with surprise at the look Sam gave him – it was the same way he looked at him after the first time he saw him when he got back from Hell.

“Sammy, I’m okay.” Dean reassured.

“No, you’re not.” Sam shook his head, taking in all the machines around his brother.


“Damn it Dean!” Sam yelled, spinning around in a circle.

“Sam-” Dean started, his eyes on the back of his head.

“Don’t even bother with that ‘I’m fine’ crap!” Sam screamed, pacing and looking like he needed to punch something.

“They told me you died Dean! You flat lined twice!” Sam spat, fingers running through his hair, knuckles turning white.

Dean was absentmindedly surprised that he didn’t end up ripping any of it out with the amount of force he must’ve used.


“They told me I lost you!” Sam roared.


Neither brother said it, but the word hung in the air between them anyway and took Dean’s breath away. How could he have missed that? No wonder he was so wrecked.

“They told me I-” Sam choked, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

Dean slid out from the bed and walked to his brother, wrapping him up in a much needed hug, squeezing him tight to his chest. Sam hugged him back just as hard and couldn’t hold back his tears any longer, letting them free fall – soaking the stupid hospital gown the eldest wore.

“Sh, Sammy, I’m okay. I’m okay.” Dean whispered, rubbing circles into the giant’s back.

“You were gone and I – I couldn’t-

“Sammy, its okay, just breathe. I’m alright.” Dean cooed, moving his hand up to pat his hair.

Sam let go and took a few steps back, sniffing and wiping at his eyes, looking embarrassed, much to Dean’s surprise.

“I know. I’m alright.” Dean repeated, walking over to where his clothes laid in pile.

“Whaddya say we get out of here, huh? Before they discover you’re not related to that diva?” Dean offered, looking to Sam who still looked stunned.


“Yeah? Uh – yeah. S-sounds good, I’ll uh – I’ll wait in the hall.” Sam replied, before making a move for the door.

“Eh, Sam?” Dean called, effectively stopping his brother.


“It’s not like I wouldn’t have found a way back.”

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If You Go Out In The Woods Today


Written: 14.02.27

Gen., Mentions of Sabriel/Wincest

“You know? I never thought that I’d ever say this, but I miss the emo-touchy-feely-mopey you.” Dean stated, watching as Sam practically bounced around the room.

“You’re just jealous that I get to go out and you have to stay home.” Sam replied, stuffing some more items of clothes into a duffle.

Dean watched in silence as Sam did a quick tally of everything he’d shoved in the bag, then a once over of the bedroom. He nodded to himself and zipped the duffle closed, flinging it up onto his shoulder before walking out of the room.

“Yeah sure, I’m jealous that you get to go out with an annoying dick.” Dean said, rolling his eyes as he followed his brother into the kitchen.

“Dean, he’s just an annoying dick on the outside, if you actually took the time to get to know him-”

“Took the time? Are you kidding me?” Dean asked.

Sam looked over at his brother as he pulled a cabinet open, confused.

“Sam, I’ve been trying to get to know the non-dick version of him since you started dating! It’s not my fault he’s not letting me in.” Dean explained.

“And you think that’s a one way street?” Sam asked.

It was Dean’s turn to look confused and Sam sighed, looking back over the cabinet before pulling out the jar of peanut butter to place inside the basket that was sitting open on the table.

“Cas is so unemotional when he talks to everyone that he sounds more like a robot who’s always talking about life and death situations, except for when he talks to you. It’s like he becomes a whole other person! You think I haven’t tried getting to know Cas as hard as you’ve tried with Gabriel? Cas still calls me Samuel for Christ sake!” Sam exclaimed, rearranging the items in the basket.

“What are you talking about? He’s nice to you.” Dean defended, crossing his arms.

“There’s a difference between being nice and putting feeling behind the words. I had more emotion in what I said when I was soulless!” Sam said, opening the fridge.

“That’s just how he is! And at least my boyfriend is like that with everyone. Yours is just a dick to me.” Dean replied bitterly.

“Can we talk about this later? I have to go.” Sam stated, holding up a jar of pickles and smiling triumphantly.

“No we can’t. I don’t want you to get hurt Sammy. And I thought you didn’t like pickles.” Dean said, nodding toward the jar.

“I’m not going to get hurt Dean, I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. I don’t, but he loves them.” Sam replied with a shrug, placing the jar carefully into the basket.

“How long are you going to be gone again?” Dean asked as Sam walked out into the front hall, placing both bags down to get his shoes.

“All weekend, and possibly Monday, but I shouldn’t be too long, I only packed two days’ worth of clothes.” Sam answered with a smile.

“Oh well that makes me feel better.” Dean said sarcastically.

“Look on the bright side, you’ll get to have the whole place to yourselves for your anniversary.” Sam replied, his smile growing as he threw on his jacket.



Dean sighed and leaned against the wall, watching as his brother picked up the bags and threw the duffle over his shoulder, keeping the picnic basket in his hand. He walked forward slightly and couldn’t help but smile – Sam looked so happy that he was about to leave. It pulled on Dean’s heart more then he knew it should’ve, he knew that Sam wasn’t going forever, but he still hated to think that that smile was plastered on his face because he was leaving.

I should’ve told him I broke up with Cas. Dean thought bitterly.

“You ready?” Dean questioned instead, eyeing his brother.

“As I’ll ever be.” Sam said.

“Be careful Sammy.” Dean cautioned as he opened the door.

“I will.” Sam replied before turning to walk away.

Dean watched him a moment before closing the door, feeling his heart sink to the ground. There was a knock at the door and Dean looked at it confused a moment before opening it to see his brother standing there.

“Almost forgot.” He mumbled before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Dean felt the blush that crept up his face as he watched his brother actually leave this time, closing the door to lean against it. That kiss had meant way more to Dean than it ever could to his brother, which bugged the absolute crap out of Dean – it wasn’t fair that Sam got to make so many little suggestive hints and be so completely oblivious to them and then question why Dean was acting so strange.

I should’ve told him. Then we could’ve been together. Dean thought as he walked over to flop down on the couch.

Happy fucking anniversary.

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The Fight of Our Life


Written: 14.06.26

Gen., Destiel/Sabriel

Dean and Cas looked around at the battle field, both feeling the punch of guilt hit them as they looked over at how much blood was spilled for them to do this.

At least Zachariah’s dead. Dean thought, his eyes seeking the angel’s body out of the wreckage.

“And Raphael.” Cas added, looking to the body mentioned as well.

The men stood there looking around at the familiar faces that were covered in blood and felt it sink in just how many people lost their lives in the fight. Dean’s eyes swept over most of the angels: Zach, Raph, Michael, Uriel, Anna and countless others, filling the ground of dead grass with the remains of burnt wings, spreading out in weird patterns. Cas looked over all the humans that lied before him on his half of the field: Bobby, John, Mary, Ash, Ellen, Jo, Pamela, Rufus, and many other hunters he wasn’t too sure of their names, covered in blood, sweat and mud.

He couldn’t believe they all risked their lives fighting their cause, even the humans had been fighting against them, just like his brother’s and sister’s had been. It was the biggest battle he and Dean had ever been in, and they’d won. He still felt guilty that his family had refused to accept him and kicked him out, the only angel who outright accepted him had been none other than the one angel he himself had been taught to never be like – Lucifer.

It was kind of funny really, when he’d told the Morning Star because he stared at him for ten minutes before Cas had had the courage to ask why and the archangel just blinked and replied ‘was that all?’

Cas still couldn’t figure out how the rest of his brother’s had managed to get all of the humans to agree with their line of thinking, and he also couldn’t figure out why they chose a cemetery which had no significance to any of them – as Dean put it, it was ‘just an old bone yard outside of Lawrence’, so why the battle took place here made no sense.

He and Dean had been forced to take on all the people who were supposed to be the ones they were closest to – all at once – and they won. It had been just the two of them, against at least ten dozen angels and about six dozen hunters, not counting all the people Dean had been man enough to tell, (mostly who he considered ‘family’) and they’d taken them all, all the while during the fight still trying to reason with all of them, having no luck.

“We made it.” Dean breathed walking closer, looking at the angel across the field.

Cas smiled and met him in the middle, encasing the now ex-hunter in a hug. Dean squeezed him back as hard as he could and didn’t bother trying to hide the happy tears leaking out of his eyes. He held the man out at arms length, looking over his bloody and bruised face with a smile before dipping his head to capture his lips with his own.

They finally broke the kiss and leaned back from each other, feeling a strange blanket of peace fall around them as everything finally seemed to be going their way.

Cas flashed them out of the battle ground and into a giant house, making Dean stumble back and look around in shock.

“Cas – where are we?” He asked as he looked around.

“We’re home.” Cas replied looking around as well.

“You mean – you…?”

“Yes, I figure you deserve more than that little two story house across the street. Besides, another couple already bought it.”

“Another couple? Who?” Dean demanded, feeling himself get worked up.

Sure it wasn’t exactly the lavish house he had secretly wanted, but it was still way nicer than their usual digs so he figured it would do. But Cas being Cas had straight out defied him and got this mansion for them instead. And damn he couldn’t lie to the angel anymore. He let himself smile and wrap his angel up again.

I love it.

I know. Cas thought chuckling.

“How did someone else get the other house though? I thought we were the only ones who put an offer on it.” Dean voiced confused.

“Apparently there was a last minute offer that was too good to pass up.” Cas explained.

“Do you know who made it?” Dean asked.

Cas smiled back at him as a whistle was let out from behind them, making Dean jump and spin around, looking at his brother and Gabriel.

“Sammy?” Dean asked, looking over his brother for any signs of damage.

“Hey Dean.” Sam greeted, smiling at his brother.

Dean walked forward and hugged his brother, not believing his eyes. He hadn’t seen Sam in months, he’d claimed he was retiring and made Dean promise him that after he’d told everyone about him and Cas he wouldn’t go looking for him – Sam said it’d be too dangerous because he wouldn’t be hunting. Dean naturally laughed but Cas had agreed and made him promise him that this battle would be the last time he fought, and how the hell were you supposed to argue with an angel?

Dean let his brother go and went to stand back beside his boyfriend, still trying to let everything that’d just happened sink in. Everyone they knew was dead, there was no more evil to fight (curtsey of Lucifer, saying something about ‘don’t be expecting any other gifts from me’) and they were out – finally out of the life and truthfully, thanks to Lucifer, there was no more need for ‘the life’.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

“Damn Cas, you really outdid yourself trying to make Dean happy.” Gabriel stated, looking around.

“Dean actually wanted your house Gabriel, but he saw how much I loved this one and got it for me.” Cas lied, his smile growing.

You’re not going to tell them?

I wouldn’t want to ruin your tough guy image by divulging your secrets, even if it’s just to our brothers.

Dean smiled and grabbed his angel’s hand, feeling himself blush.

“Dean, listen, I’m sorry we missed the battle, I swear I was on my way but Gabriel-”

“It’s fine Sam, I know.” Dean replied, cutting his brother off.

Sam didn’t look convinced but thankfully didn’t say anything else about it.

“You don’t have to hide it anymore.” Dean stated, looking at the men standing in front of him.

“Hide what?” Sam asked cautiously.

Dean gestured to the obvious space that was between him and the angel he’d flashed in with and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re crazy Winchester; nothing’s going on between me and your brother.” Gabriel said.

“Gabriel don’t lie to my boyfriend.” Cas warned with a smile.

I like the way that sounds.

I should hope so.

I think I just found the next item on my to-do list.

What would that be, Dean?

Teaching you to stop being formal.

Cas blushed and looked down, making Dean chuckle before looking back to the couple in front of him.

“Guys c’mon, its fine, you don’t have to deny it. I promise, I no longer feel the need to kill Gabriel.” Dean said.

Gabriel looked to Sam for moment, as if debating whether or not to trust the men standing before them before Gabriel smiled and grabbed Sam, spinning him dramatically into him before crashing his mouth into his. Sam seemed surprised and turned red at the assault but was chuckling into the kiss.

The angel let him go but kept him close to his side, holding his hand and looked across at the other couple, smiling triumphantly.

We made it.

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The Worst Kind Of Monsters


Written: 15.06.07

**Contains: Self Harm (Cutting), Bullying, Dissociation, Mentions/Implications of Eating Disorders (Anorexia) and Domestic Abuse**

Teen!Chesters, Destiel

“Hey, Castiel!”

The mentioned stops walking and feels his heart leap into his throat, he closes his eyes and hopes that it is not who he thinks it is.

“You forget we had a date?”

Castiel hears the crew of bullies walk closer, the thudding of their boots against the ground strangely reflects the beating of his heart. He turns around slowly, hoping to God they wouldn’t be too rough with him. He had another date and he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary worry.

“Well?” The leader sneers down at him, getting right into his personal space.

“P-please, Brock. Not today.” The teen says, his voice shaky.

“Aw, would ya look at this? Haven’t even started and he’s already pleading. You really are well trained, ain’t ya?” Brock asks, smiling sweetly down at the boy.

Castiel nodded his head but kept his eyes on the ground, not wanting to piss Brock off any farther.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make this real quick, wouldn’t want to keep ya from sleeping because you were patching yourself up.” Brock says, moving impossibly closer.

Castiel just blinks up at him – this was new – he wasn’t sure if this was something he was supposed to reply to or not. He guessed he was wrong for keeping his mouth shut when he felt Brock’s fist collide with his jaw and he hit the ground hard, falling down to his hands and knees, his backpack sliding from his shoulder, falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.” Brock spat, stepping back to retrieve his backpack.

“T-thank-you.” Castiel mutters, spitting some blood out of his mouth.

“That’s more like it. Such a polite fat cow, ain’t he?” Brock approves no doubt with that smirk on his face.

One of Brock’s cronies walks over and grabs Castiel up off the ground, holding his arms behind him and kicks out his knees, so he was sagging in the grip, as the other boy walks forward and smiles sweetly at him, before starting to lay into him, using him as his own personal punching bag.

Castiel hears the familiar ripping of his backpack zippers as Brock goes through its contents, no doubt searching for the sandwich he asked Castiel to make for him yesterday. His cronies stop punching him and switch their positions, so the one holding him was now punching him and the one who was punching was holding him back.

“Where is it?” Brock yells, throwing the bag off to the side.

“He ate it.”

Castiel’s head shoots up (successfully moving his head so he got punched in the eye) and he pleads with everything he has that that voice was not what he recognized it as.

“Winchester?” Brock asks, the confusion evident in his voice.

“Hiya Brock.” Dean greets, smirking at the bully as he walked closer.

The two guys holding Castiel stop punching and automatically throw him to the side, as if Dean didn’t just see what they were doing. Castiel hit the ground hard, no doubt scraping his hands and knees and started coughing up blood, hoping Dean wouldn’t notice.

“We were just, uh, helping Castiel here with his things.” Brock lied, holding up the backpack.

“You implyin’ that I’m stupid? That I didn’t just see what you did with his bag?” Dean asked his eyebrow raising.

“Or his face?” Dean spat, turning to glare at the other two.

“We were just- uh-”

“Save it.” Dean snarled, taking a step forward.

Brock’s face flushed before he threw the bag down, glared at Castiel one last time, scurrying off down the street. Castiel wiped the string of blood away from his mouth and looked back up, afraid of what the two cronies would do. The two back-up bullies shared a look before running off toward their leader.

As soon as they were gone, Dean held out a hand to help the teen up off the ground. Castiel accepted the hand and stood up shakily, unable to find his voice to thank his boyfriend for coming to his rescue. Castiel wasn’t able to do a lot of things with the ache he felt start to swell inside his chest, and the irresistible itch on his thigh, as though he’d gotten stung by ten thousand tiny mosquito’s.

“Don’t worry, Cas, I’ll get you home.” Dean promised, his arm tightening around the smaller man’s shoulders.

Castiel wasn’t really paying attention, but guessed that Dean had actually walked them home, because the next thing he was aware of was that he was leaning up against the railing of Dean’s porch while he unlocked the door. Once the door was open, Dean kicked it open slightly before coming back to help Castiel inside, kicking it closed once they were inside.

Bathroom, get to the bathroom! The voice yelled inside Castiel’s head, the ache and itch intensifying.

Castiel waited until Dean had set him down on the couch and hurried up to the second floor, to either tell his brother he was home or get the first aid kit, before he got up and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror and felt as though he was shrinking, getting closer and closer to the ground. He took a shaky breath and turned away, purposefully not looking at the scale in the corner.

Tuesday. The voice reminded him, allowing that urge to lessen.

“Hey, Cas?”

Castiel blinked and looked around wildly for a moment, before realizing he was in the bathroom. He looked down at his leg and was surprised to see it covered in bleeding lines, his pants folded nicely beside him, still gripping his blade with shaky fingers, blood dripping off of it. He ran a gentle finger into one of the blood drops that had welled up from one of the cuts and brought it up to his mouth, licking the liquid off of it slowly, loving the shudder that runs through him as the taste hits his tongue.

“Cas, you okay in there?” Dean calls through the door.

Castiel reaches up and tries to pull himself up from the floor, all the beads of blood on his leg rolling down it slowly, unsuccessful, he lands back on the floor with a thud. That was apparently all the permission Dean needed to kick in the door.

Castiel was sure that if he could feel anything in that moment, he’d feel guilty at the disappointed/hurt look on his boyfriend’s face as he took the scene in before him. He breathed out before turning around and closing the door as best he could before turning back and kneeling down beside the younger man.

“Cas?” Dean questions, the hurt and confusion evident.

Castiel, still couldn’t find his voice, and looks down in an attempt to hide the tears he felt sting at his eyes. Dean watches the movement before nodding and standing back up, reaching over to grab a few sheets of toilet paper, holding them out for the boy to take.

“Okay.” Dean says, voice gentle, as if dealing with a frightened, cornered animal, before dabbing lightly at the cuts on his leg, wiping the blood away.

Castiel sniffs and blinks the tears away, not wanting the older man to think it’s because he’s hurting him, although he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t think that. The bloody toilet paper gets thrown into the garbage before Dean gets up, saying something that may or may not be important, regardless of which one, Castiel doesn’t hear it, just watches, brokenly as he sees Dean leave the bathroom and feels an overwhelming sense of loneliness, of being abandoned by the one person who promised him he’d never leave.

Castiel feels the ache well up again, more intense than he’d ever felt it before and can’t stop himself as he pulls the blade across his other thigh, again and again, until the ache goes away, trying to reach it from the outside. Trying to get it out of him, if he could only go deep enough, he might be able to sit and watch it come up and out of one of the cuts, ridding him of it forever – never needing to feel it again.

Soon enough, this thigh is covered in cuts too, and the only reason Castiel paused in his actions was he had to stop and scan his leg for an open space, a place he could fit one more, a pale, untouched spot on his thigh that he could decorate with the lovely red of perfection. It’s in this moment that the older man walks back in, not bothering to ask permission this time and Castiel is fairly certain he curses when he sees how much more damage his boyfriend’s caused himself.

In an instant, he’s there, back on his knees, pressing toilet paper to the thigh closest to the door, the one that moments before hadn’t held any kind of mark, was a blank canvas, waiting, begging to be used. Castiel knows that he’s saying something, can hear the deep voice carry out and break the unbearable silence that had encased him for too long, that always seems to encase him, but Castiel still can’t make out the words, doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s hearing but for the life of him, he just can’t seem to bring himself, or remember how to listen.

Again, he sees the bloody toilet paper get tossed into the garbage and feels as though they’ve already done this, but can’t remember when, it all seems to blur together nowadays. Castiel can’t even bring himself to feel anymore, the numbness has taken over completely, keeping him out of the moment forever. Causing him to fall deeper and deeper into a hole he doesn’t know if he can climb out of – doesn’t know if he wants to climb out of.

This time, Dean doesn’t get up and leave, he leans closer and carefully lifts Castiel’s hand with one of his own, the other turning Castiel’s face to face him and the hand he’s holding. Dean grips the hand tighter, intensely starring into his boyfriend’s blank eyes, trying to get a response out of him, trying to ground him, to bring him back to the now, to get him out of that freaky head of his. Castiel again can hear him say something but the sounds run together, and he knows its hopeless trying to figure out what was said. But then, he sees Dean’s hand move, it’s prying Castiel’s fist open, this catches Castiel off guard and his eyes flicker out of the blankness that had covered them, giving Dean a glimpse of hope.

He’d uncurled the younger’s hand and sees that his boyfriend is back, he’s watching their hands, and if this wasn’t so important, Dean would’ve sprung up and did a happy dance. But he couldn’t, he had to take this slow, as slow as Castiel needed. Dean carefully ran the tips of his fingers over Castiel’s palm, and felt himself smile slightly as he watched the shudder run through his boyfriend.

This was good, he was feeling – he was in the moment.

Dean carefully picked the blade he’d been clutching to up and wasn’t surprised to see he’d cut his hand with the force he’d been using. These cuts weren’t very deep and weren’t bleeding; luckily they wouldn’t need to be wrapped, unlike the cuts on his legs. He pulled his hand back and placed the blade into his shirt pocket, making sure it would be somewhere Castiel wouldn’t be able to get it without him knowing.

“Okay, Cas, let’s get you out of here.” Dean said, keeping his voice gentle.

Castiel shook slightly as Dean wrapped his arms around him easily, pulling him up bridal style into his arms. Castiel’s head was resting against his shoulder as if his neck couldn’t hold it up on it’s own and he felt tears start to soak through the thin fabric but didn’t care, he knew why his baby was crying, and he could make it better when he showed emotion – it was when he shut down and got that blank stare that made Dean panic.

“I-I heard.” Castiel whispered through the sobs.

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to not focus on the fact that he could feel the sections of spine shift every time Castiel breathed.

“Good, that’s good.” Dean approved quietly.

Dean walked out of the bathroom and made the small trip into the living room, standing in the middle of it for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to let go of his boyfriend. It would probably have been better to go up to his room, for the privacy they needed, but Dean refused to climb the stairs while carrying him because he knew each step set a jolt of pain through his baby and the last thing he wanted was to cause him any more pain. He walked a few slow laps around the living room, relishing the feel of his baby being so close to him, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold him close and feel his heartbeat.

Dean sighed and walked to the couch, laying Castiel down on it carefully, so he was on his back, allowing Dean to see the full extent of the damage done to his legs. He ran back to the hallway where he’d dropped the first aid kit when he heard the overwhelming absence of sound and saw the bathroom door was still pushed over how he’d left it, letting him know that Cas hadn’t moved.

He came back and pulled the coffee table closer, sitting down on it before setting the first aid kit down beside him, opening it up before starting to disinfect the cuts. Castiel hissed when the liquid hit the fresh wounds and Dean felt instantly guilty at the fact that he was grateful that he felt the sting.

“Sorry.” Dean mumbled, putting it away and taking out the gauze wrappings.

“It’s ‘k.” Came the quiet reply.

Dean shifted Castiel, so it looked as though he was sitting up facing him so he could wrap his legs up. Castiel’s body kept falling forward, after two minutes of trying to get him to stay leaned against the couch, Dean gave in and allowed him to lean against him, it was actually easier to wrap his legs like this, because he could easily reach the underside of the legs. Once he was done wrapping his legs, Dean shifted him back down into a laying position before getting up to go put the first aid kit in the bathroom and grabbing his pants off the floor, bringing them out so they were on the coffee table.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, looking him over for any sign of movement.


“You can’t go to sleep, you lost a lot of blood and I don’t want you to slip into a coma – that would be a kind of crappy way to end a date.” Dean joked, smiling at the fact Cas still seemed to be with him.

Castiel shifted, lifting himself up so he was leaning against the arm of the couch and blinked his eyes open slowly, clearly fighting to keep them open.

“Sorry.” Cas replied automatically.

“Don’t apologize.” Dean chastised.


“What did I just tell you?” Dean asked, carefully looking his boyfriend over and not liking how thin he’d become.

“You hungry?” Dean asked, stopping him from apologizing for a third time.

Cas’s eyes went wide with fear and he shook his head, subconsciously starting to scratch at his arms.

“Well I’m starving,” Dean began, covering his hands with his own, getting him to stop scratching, “and seems as how you’re spending the night, and the fact that I know Sam hasn’t eaten yet, I’m going to order a pizza anyway. That way if you change your mind there’s food for you to have.” Dean explained, knowing that Cas would end up eating something before he let him leave.

“Do you have money for pizza?” Cas asked nervously.

“Of course.” Dean replied with a smile, getting up to walk into the kitchen so he could call in the order.

He loved Cas to death, sure, but one thing that always bugged him about his boyfriend was the fact that he’d been brought up to think that if there was food, you ate, if there wasn’t, you didn’t. And he would fight tooth and nail to try and keep people from spending money on him, he felt guilty because he couldn’t even hope to pay them back, or even, going out of there way for him – he didn’t think he was worth it. Okay, technically that was two things, but they went hand in hand so they were really only one.

Dean phoned in the order as fast as he could, not wanting to leave Cas alone longer than he had to, especially when he was just starting to come back to the moment. Dean hung up and turned away from the wall to find Sam peering in to the doorway, sheepishly.

“You can come in Sammy, I’m not gonna bite ya.” Dean stated, smirking at his brother.

“I know that!” Sam countered, coming into the room, placing his hands on his hips and looking a damn awful lot like Mom.

“Okay, so then why’re you sneaking around?” Dean countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I-” Sam shut himself up before looking around, his eyes going wide with fright as if he heard something.

“You…?” Dean prompted, not understanding why his brother had froze.


Dean’s head whipped around to the doorway from the living room and saw Cas leaning against it, clearly trying to catch his breath. Dean looked him over, trying to figure out why he was so winded if he just walked to kitchen, but noted that his pants were on.

“Yeah Cas? What is it?” Dean asked, looking him back over for any signs of damage or other injury.

“I, uh, I was just wondering if I could spend the night?” Cas asked, blushing and looking down.

“Yeah, of course.” Dean agreed, wondering why he’d ask such a stupid question.

Castiel smiled slightly before pushing himself off of the doorway and stumbling back into the living room.

Dean shook his head before looking back to his brother, who was standing there, pale and sweaty, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Sammy? You okay?” Dean questioned.

Sam turned to look back at his brother slowly and nodded, his eyes still wide with fear.

“I- I think I’m gonna go finish my homework.” Sam stated, turning to rush out of the kitchen.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Dean stopped him, closing the distance between them.

“Are you scared of Cas?” Dean asked, piecing it together.

“What? N-no, of course not.” Sam answered, his voice shaking.

“Okay, then why don’t you take a break and hang out with us for a bit? I ordered pizza.” Dean offered.

“He’s staying the night.” Sam replied, as if that was supposed to be an answer.

“Yeah, and we’re also dating, and I’m taller than you. Now that we’re done stating the obvious, come hang out with us.”

“No, I can’t. I have to finish my homework.” Sam said quickly.

“Sammy, come on!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Sh! Dean, be quiet!” Sam hissed, looking around frantically.

“What are you so afraid of? Mom’s not here, I can be as loud as I want!” Dean yelled.

Sam stomped his foot and pushed his bottom lip out in frustration, he couldn’t tell his brother that he was scared of his boyfriend (who looked more like a walking skeleton than a person) and he couldn’t find a sufficient lie to tell.

“I just can’t Dean, alright?” Sam replied, irritation clearly evident in his voice.

“Sammy, c’mon, just, half an hour, you need to take a break and eat something, kiddo.” Dean bargained.

“Fine, let me know when the pizza’s here.” Sam agreed before walking out of the kitchen and stomping back up the stairs to his room.

Dean sighed and shook his head – it didn’t make sense that he was scared of Cas; he wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone Sam. If Cas ever was going to go postal, Dean knew who he’d go after, and he could personally guarantee that Sam (and himself) were not on the list. He walked back into the living room and plopped himself down on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“Dean? Is everything alright?” Cas asked from his left.

“Yeah Cas, everything’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Dean replied, keeping his eyes closed.

“Are you sure?” Cas asked, hesitation in his voice.

“Damn it Cas! Why can’t you take yes for an answer?” Dean bellowed, bolting upright before smacking Cas in the face.

Dean blinked and saw Cas’ face look back at him in pure shock before it was covered up and the blank stare was back, tears in his eyes.

Damn it.

“No Cas-”

Cas got up and hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Well at least all he can do is cry, I still got his-

Dean’s heart sped up as he patted the pocket of his shirt and didn’t feel the little blade he’d taken from his boyfriend. He reached inside his pocket and felt around – nothing. He didn’t have the blade on him anymore, and Cas just ran to the bathroom.


Dean was up and knocking on the bathroom door before his brain had time to catch up to what he was doing.

“Cas?” Dean called nervously through the door.

How the hell did he take it without me noticing? Dean thought, knocking on the door harder.

“C’mon, Cas – open up.”

“Please, don’t do this Cas.” Dean pleaded, sliding down the door, tears stinging his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it, Cas, c’mon please.”

Dean wiped at his eyes, cursing himself for being such a girl about this.

“Okay, fine.” Dean growled under his breath before rushing forward to break the door in.

It opened with a loud crack but didn’t open all the way, only serving to worry Dean more. He managed to wiggle himself inside the bathroom and was shocked to see Cas. He was just sitting there, rocking back and forth, crying – no blood, and no blade.

“Cas?” Dean asked gently, kneeling down so he was somewhat eye level.

“W-was he right?” Cas questioned, bringing his eyes slowly up to Dean’s face.

“Who?” Dean encouraged softly.

“Brock, when he called me f-fat.” Cas explained, new tears beginning to fall.

“What? No.” Dean replied appalled – did he really think that?

“You are nowhere even near fat – you’re skinny at best.” Dean assured, sitting crossed legged, pulling the younger man into his arms.

Cas held onto his shirt in a death grip as he let himself cry, not able to hold back any longer.

“I wanted to – wanted to so bad, but I didn’t.” Cas mumbled, crying harder into his chest.

“Sh, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain to me.” Dean cooed, hugging him tighter to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Cas apologized, his voice and heart breaking.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. Don’t worry about it.” Dean replied, kissing the top of his head.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, letting Cas’ tears fall. He had finally stopped crying and calmed down a little, but neither man dared to move.

“I-I don’t think I want it anymore.” Cas said, breaking the silence.

“Okay.” Dean agreed, petting his hair.

“I’m scared, Dean.” Cas whispered, starting to shake slightly.

“It’s alright, Cas, I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Dean reassured.


Both boys jumped at the noise, before Dean carefully set Cas aside, so he could stand up to get the door.

“You’re sure?” Dean asked, helping Cas stand up too.


Dean smiled sadly but nodded, he understood how hard this was going to be.


“It’s okay, we don’t have to do this now.” Dean calmed.

Cas shook his head before taking the blade out of his pocket and taking in a huge breath, walking over to the garbage can. He held it out in his hand and Dean could see he was shaking. He watched as ten different emotions flitted across his face before his expression turned hard and he tilted his hand, letting the blade fall out of it slowly. At the dull thud it made in the garbage, Cas breathed out and deflated, subconsciously placing a hand on top of his thigh.

“I am so proud of you.” Dean beamed, walking over to wrap him up in a giant bear hug.

“Really?” Cas asked with a sheepish smile as Dean set him down.

“Of course.” Dean promised with a smile.

“Now whaddya say we go get that pizza before Sam eats it all?” Dean suggested, taking Cas by the hand to lead him out of the bathroom.

“Shouldn’t we answer the door first?” Cas asked, his smile growing.

“Hey, now there’s an idea!” Dean teased, walking them out and toward the door.

He ran a little and skidded to a hault just before slamming into the door. He retched it open excitedly, and his mouth opened a little in surprise when he didn’t see the delivery guy standing there.

“Whoa, hey! Where you going with our food?” Dean called, jogging a little to catch up to the delivery guy who was walking back to the car.

After a quick pizza-money exchange, Dean walked back in, closing the door with his foot.

“Sam! Get your ass down here before we eat all the grub!” Dean called up the stairs on his way to the living room to set the pizza down.

“Hey, Dean?” Cas asked from the doorway.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, looking up from the pizza.


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You Deserve To Be Loved


Written: 14.09.19

TW: Suicide (Mentioned)


“Sammy!” Gabriel yelled, sliding to his knees beside the too-still body on the bathroom floor.

Oh no, no, no! Dear God, no! Gabriel thought, eyes quickly scanning over the still growing pool of blood that the giant’s body was surrounded by.

“Sammy?” Gabriel asked, already knowing that the man in front of him wouldn’t answer.

God, no, c’mon Sammy, hold on just a little bit longer. Gabriel thought desperately, picking the giant rag doll up off the ground before zapping them in front of a hospital. He ran through the doors and looked around frantically, his voice suddenly gone as his panic began to rise. He rushed forward, to the nurses station, and still couldn’t find his voice.

“Are you okay, Sweety?” The nurse asked once she saw him standing there.

“I-” Gabriel squeaked and held up his arms as high as he could, raising Sam up as much as he could so she could see it, and why the hell was the counter so high anyway?

“Oh, dear. What’s wrong with him?” She asked, coming around the side of the counter to get a better look.

Gabriel just shook his head and stared at her, pleading for her to save his life. The nurse looked into his eyes and sighed before motioning for one of the nurses to come help.

“Alright, Sweety, here, let me take him.” She said, gently prying Sam out of Gabriel’s grasp.

“He-he tried to-”

“Code Red!” The nurse yelled, her eyes suddenly flooding with panic, now that she could see the damage.

About a dozen nurses suddenly flooded in front of Gabriel, each taking some part of Sam into their arms, all manoeuvring so he was somewhat situated on a gurney, before they raced him down the hall and out of sight.



Gabriel was still standing there, where they’d taken him away, still starring at the double swinging doors in shock. He’s not sure how long he’d been standing there but a doctor finally came back out and looked directly at him, a grim expression set on his face.

Oh, God no. No, not now, not my Sammy – please, not you, not you…

“Gabriel Winchester?” The doctor asked, looking at him expectantly.

Gabriel tried (and failed) to swallow the lump in his throat, and nodded.

“I’m Doctor Kroger.” The doctor introduced himself, Gabriel’s mind racing too much to remember the name.

“Can we talk?” He asked, gesturing to the line of chairs bolted to the wall.

Gabriel again, just nodded and followed him over, perching himself on the very edge of the seat.

“Mr. Winchester, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to tell you.” He started, again looking at the angel expectantly.

“O-okay.” Gabriel nodded, his voice cracking.

“Mr. Winchester, your brother tried to kill himself. He’d slashed his arms vertically, along with the two artery’s on his legs. He’s suffering from massive blood loss, we have him hooked up to a transfuse at the moment, and a breathing ventilator. We were very lucky, if you hadn’t have found him when you did-”

“He’d be dead.” Gabriel finished, feeling his heart drop into his stomach.

The doctor nodded at him and smiled. He actually had the audacity to smile. Sam had almost died and the doctor was smiling.

The doctor went flying backwards out of his chair and only stopped sliding because he hit the nurses desk.

Gabriel blinked and looked at the doctor, then down at himself. He was certain that he didn’t actually punch him, he didn’t even feel himself move.

“Why would you punch a doctor?” One of the nurses asked, coming around to help him stand back up.

“I – I didn’t!” Gabriel stuttered, standing up, eyes going wider with panic.

The doctor’s eyes widened at this statement and he took a step to the side, before practically running back through the double doors.

“Hey! Wait!” Gabriel called out, running after the doctor.

“Can I go see Sam?” Gabriel asked, popping up in front of the doctor.

The doctor’s eyes widened and he looked behind him confused, before taking a step back from Gabriel, holding his hands up.

“Y-you’re not human.” He muttered.

Gabriel sighed and looked around the hall quickly, making sure no one else was there, before grabbing his chin, to make him look at him.

“P-please, don’t hurt me.” The doctor choked.

“When can I go see Sam?” Gabriel asked through grit teeth, trying his hardest not to break the doctor’s jaw.

“W-whenever you want.”

Gabriel sighed and let go of his face, before rubbing a hand down his own.

“What room is he in?”

“R-right there. On the left.”

Gabriel sighed again and looked into the window in the door before gasping. Sam was there, lying in the bed, hooked up to about ten different machines, his arms covered in bruises that were most definitely not there when Gabriel brought him in.

Oh, Sammy.

“W-when can I take him home?” Gabriel asked, tearing his eyes away from the man lying in bed.

Of course. Gabriel thought as he saw that he was now alone in the hall.

Gabriel took a deep breath before opening the door, slipping inside quietly. He closed and locked the door behind him before standing at the end of the bed in shock. It looked so much worse up close, now he could see the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble on his face, the artificial rise and fall of his chest, how greasy his hair had become along with a cut just above his left eye, a butterfly strip holding it closed.

The worst, the worst of it all was the long line of stitches that ran along the length of his arms, looking as though they were barely holding the skin in place, starting at his wrists and ending just below the crook of his elbows.

“God Sammy, what did you do?” He breathed, holding on to the end of the bed to keep himself from falling over.

It’s all my fault…Gabriel thought, coming around the side of the bed slowly.

Why did I have to do that? Stupid, stupid, stupid! I don’t even remember what we were fighting about…

Gabriel pulled the chair out of the corner as close to the bed as it could go before sitting down, feeling his eyes sting with tears.

I shouldn’t have left, I should’ve stayed with him, I should’ve been there to protect him. I should’ve…

Gabriel scrubbed his hands through his hair as the tears began to fall, pulling at the strands until he felt dizzy with the pain.

I don’t even remember why I was so angry, I don’t remember what we were fighting about, and you – I almost lost you because of it.

I almost lost you because of something I don’t even remember! Gabriel thought, realizing that he was no longer in the chair, but pacing behind it.

He was angry – no, screw that – he was friggin’ pissed at himself for leaving, he was pissed at the doctor’s and nurses for the bruises that were covering his baby’s sewed up arms.

Sewed up…like somebody’s broken toy. Gabriel thought bitterly, punching a hole in the wall.

Careful. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.

Gabriel was back beside the bed in an instant, crushing Sam to his chest, not caring if his tears soaked through the stupid gown he was wearing.


“Right, sorry.” Gabriel let him go, and sat back in the chair, unable to stop the tears from falling.

Sam coughed a little before settling back in the bed, looking at his arms, a blush creeping up his face, and damn him, it made it impossible for Gabriel to hold onto the anger that had risen inside him.

“I guess I made it, huh?” Sam asked quietly.

Gabriel’s brain stopped for a moment at hearing how disappointed the hunter sounded.

“Yes, you did. I found you on the floor of the bathroom and I-” Gabriel cut himself off, turning away as the tears welled up again.

God, no…You weren’t supposed to find me…

Gabriel barked out a sharp little laugh and looked back to the man in the bed, who was looking at him surprised.

“Not supposed to find you? Who else did you think would find you in our house before me? What? Did you call somebody to meet you there so I wouldn’t have to find you dead on the floor?” Gabriel asked, rising to his feet.

Okay, so he lied – he was able to hold on to a little bit of his anger.

“No, I-”

“If you didn’t want me to be the one to find you then why did you do it in our house? Who else do you know would’ve beaten me home to find you? Jesus Sam! How can you say that?”

He was pacing again but he didn’t care, he was too wound up to sit down now anyway.

“Or did you mean I wasn’t supposed to find you alive? You wanted me to find you cold and blue on the floor, lying in a pool of your own blood, is that it?” Gabriel stopped pacing and turned to face the hunter, hands on his hips.

“I-I didn’t think you’d care…” Sam replied, keeping his eyes on the bed sheet.

Gabriel felt as though he was just slapped in the face.

Didn’t think I’d care? Gabriel thought bewildered.

“Of course I’d care Sam! Wait, you think that just because we had a fight means that I don’t care about you anymore?” Gabriel asked, making his way back to the chair.

Sam glanced up at him, his eyes wet and nodded before looking back down.

“God, Sammy, no – that’s not how this works. My love for you can’t just disappear at a moment’s notice. I love you more than anything else on this planet, and just because I get mad or disappointed at times doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I’ve loved you since the first time we met and you didn’t know that my kind even existed. I loved you even more when you tried proposing to me in the coffee shop and everything went so terribly wrong and I ended up covered in coffee and whipped cream. I love everything about you, you’re my little Sammich, and even when I’m yelling at you and angry, that’s when I love you the most. Because I’m only upset at you because I care so much about you, and I don’t ever want anything bad to happen to you. And sometimes the decisions you make have a potential to go terribly wrong and get you hurt, and that’s the part I get angry about. It’s that you don’t see sometimes how your plans or hunts could get you hurt, or the fact that you don’t care that you’d get hurt. That’s what makes me angry, the fact that you care so little about something I consider to be the best thing in the world.” Gabriel explained, smiling slightly.

“R-really?” Sam asked, red eyes peeking out from under the curtain of hair he had.

“Sammy.” Gabriel breathed, before crawling (carefully) into the bed with the hunter, sliding in behind him to wrap his arms around him, hugging him tight to his chest again, letting the hunter burry his head in the crook of his neck and let his tears out.

“Of course – I’ll love you forever.” Gabriel assured, kissing the top of the hunter’s head.

I’m sorry.

“Sorry for what?” Gabriel asked, petting his hair.

For scaring you. I promise it’ll never happen again.

“You promise, eh?” Gabriel questioned.

Sam sniffed and pulled his head out of the angel’s neck and nodded, holding the gaze with his puffy, red eyes.

“Good, because I don’t ever want this to happen again.”

“I- I promise – never again.” Sam agreed.

“Sammy, it’s not your fault.” Gabriel said, holding the gaze.

Sam shifted uncomfortably under the gaze and nodded.

Yeah, I know.

“It’s not your fault.” Gabriel repeated.

“Y-yeah, okay.” Sam agreed, looking down at the bed.

“It’s not your fault.”

Sam fiddled with his hands, and nodded again, eyes not meeting the angels.

“Hey – it’s not your fault.” Gabriel stated, grabbing the hunter’s chin, forcing him to look at him.

“Gabriel, stop.” Sam requested.

“It’s not your fault.” Gabriel continued.

“Gabriel, stop it.” Sam stated, slapping the angel’s hand away from his chin.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Stop it. Don’t – don’t you fuck with me.” Sam pleaded, eyes filling back up with tears.

“It isn’t your fault Sammy, it’s not.” Gabriel stated.

Such a broken sound escaped passed Sam’s lips that Gabriel thought he’d hurt him. Sam pulled Gabriel to him, holding onto him tightly, as if he would drown if he let him go and sobbed into his shirt. And for the second time that day Sam let himself break apart in front of the angel.

“Ssshhh, Sammy it’s okay.” Gabriel cooed, rubbing circles into his back.

“You’re okay, huh? You’re gonna be just fine baby.” Gabriel assured, kissing the top of his head.

They stayed like that (miraculously) until it was dark outside and Sam’s tears had dried, so he was just shaking in the arms of his husband.

Hey, Gabriel?


Why didn’t you just use your angel mojo to patch me up?

Because I knew how much you hated hospitals. Gabriel thought with a small smile.

“You ass.” Sam mumbled, but Gabriel could he the smile in his voice.

“So, whaddya say we blow this popsicle stand, hm?” Gabriel asked.

“The doctor said I could go home?” Sam asked surprised, taking his head off his angel to stare at him.

“Not exactly, but as you so eloquently put it – I’ve got angel mojo that could patch you up better than this dump.” Gabriel explained, his signature smirk in place.

“So then what are we still doing here? We’ve got movies to watch and popcorn to throw at each other.” Sam stated with a small laugh.

“See Sammy? The world’s not all bad.”

“Yeah, but there’s one thing I definitely didn’t think about.” Sam said.

“What’s that?”

“If I died, I wouldn’t have gone to Hell.”

Gabriel gave him a confused look and Sam just smiled.

“I would’ve stayed right here, having to put up with you.” Sam explained with a laugh.

“No, would’ve made sure you got stuck with being with our brothers.” Gabriel smiled.

“Oh God.” Sam replied, rolling his eyes.

“Guess it’s a good thing you found me when you did then.”

“Damn straight. Nobody needs to see that.”

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Fired Angel


Written: 14.07.11

Gen. Upset!Cas, Comforting!Dean

Castiel walked down the street with his heart in his stomach, he couldn’t possibly have been more humiliated if he’d shown up to work without his pants. Dean had told him this human thing was hard, but he didn’t expect it to be this hard. How was he supposed to go home and tell Dean that he’d gotten fired from the gas station? It was ‘the easiest possible job to get’ (in Dean’s words) and yet he’d still managed to screw it up.

How was he supposed to tell Dean? He’d surely kick him back out of the bunker…

Maybe I don’t have to tell him. Cas thought as he walked, kicking a stone as he went.

Of course you have to tell him! Don’t be stupid! He yelled at himself, not realizing his pace had increased.

He’s going to be so disappointed in me.

Cas swallowed thickly as he thought about the look Dean would give him. His head slightly tilted away, his eyes cast down, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose.

There was no way Cas could handle that look. He looked after the rock he’d kicked into the street, a frown on his face – he couldn’t even kick a rock right anymore. He kept walking, trying to pump himself up to tell Dean, telling himself that he could do it, he’d done worse, and other things along those lines.

By the time he’d reached the front door, he had done a pretty good job, and was actually feeling pretty good.

Now the only problem was turning his thoughts into reality. He opened the door with shaking hands and slipped in as quietly as he could, not wanting to get ambushed as soon as he got in the door.

Maybe I can make it to my room and buy myself some more time. Cas thought, silently walking down the hall, feeling as though his heart was trying to escape his chest.

He cursed human emotions as he walked, keeping his ears open so he’d be able to hear if Dean was around.

“Hey Cas.”

Cas jumped a foot in the air and turned around to see the taller Winchester standing behind him, looking confused, no doubt at the scare.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Sam stated, looking at him like he was analyzing him for a suitable cause as to why he’d be jumpy.

Cas hated it when he looked at him like that, made him feel like he really couldn’t hide anything from these two men. It made him feel all the more useless.

“It’s alright, Sam, you didn’t scare me.” Cas lied, giving him a tight smile and hoping that the other Winchester wasn’t close.

The most unusual thing Cas had learned from living with the Winchesters was that when one of them was near, the other wasn’t too far behind. It was almost as if spending their whole lives in tiny spaces had accustomed them to follow each other around like dogs. Most days, this amused the ex-angel, how he could call for one and not five minutes later both would be before him. Today, however, it just made him all the more anxious.

“Cas? You alright?” Sam asked, still searching him for some sort of answer with his eyes.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired, so if you’ll excuse me…” Cas said before turning around and hurrying down the hall, slamming his door shut behind him.

He let out a huge breath and allowed himself to lean against the door until his heart decided it in fact, did like the home it had and calmed down. He quickly changed out of his work clothes, throwing them in a pile on his floor, opting instead to wear his usual clothes. As he slid his arms into the trench-coat he felt himself relax a little more, now that he was in comfortable clothes, he felt slightly more ready to face the eldest Winchester.

He walked out of his room and right into the one his was still trying to avoid.

Damn it. Cas thought, taking a step back, even though he really didn’t want to.

Two things he was trying to hide from the eldest.

He was so screwed.

“Hey Cas.” Dean greeted him with a confused look.

“Hello Dean.” Cas replied, feeling something start sliding down his back.

“You seemed to be in a hurry.” Dean said, in true Dean fashion, wanting Cas to tell him without being questioned, even though this was pretty much the equivalent of him asking.

“Yes well, I’m just…” Cas trailed off, trying to think of a normal human reason to be rushing off someone except for wanting to avoid someone.

Just then, a weird noise cut into their conversation, making Dean chuckle and Cas to just get more confused.

“Say no more, I completely understand.” Dean stated, slinging an arm over Cas’ shoulders, leading him down the hall.

“Where are we going Dean?” Cas couldn’t help asking.

This just earned him another chuckle from the man as they walked. Cas frowned slightly; he was never going to be able to figure this human thing out if they didn’t tell him what he was feeling. Dean had led them into the kitchen, before pointing to a stool that was pulled out from the island they used as a table, silently telling the other man to sit.

Cas obliged and watched as Dean started swirling around the kitchen, from the fridge, to the stove and into cupboards and everything between. Cas was going to ask Dean what he was doing, and why it seemed he had to make so much noise doing it, when the youngest Winchester walked into the kitchen. Dean turned his head from the stove to see who it was, smiled, before turning back to whatever he was doing. Sam took the stool beside Cas and nodded to his brother.

Cas watched Sam watch Dean and noticed that the former was watching the latter with a look of awe and wonder, as if this was some foreign thing that he was captivated by. Although, with mostly running to diners and living in crap motel rooms, Cas could understand why it was treat to see Dean busying himself around a kitchen, with a strange look of fondness on his face, instead of his usual look of concentration.

“It reminds him of watching his mom.” Sam supplied, as if he could hear what Cas was thinking.

Cas nodded in acknowledgement and continued watching the eldest in fascination, not missing how Sam had said ‘his mom’ instead of ‘Mom’. That was something else Cas had begun picking up on, not only was it an unwritten rule to not mention Mary Winchester, but on the blue moon when she would be mentioned, Sam always referred to her as ‘his mom’ or John’s wife, he’d never once said ‘Mom’ in a way that included himself as her child. Before Cas fell, he had noticed this but never gave it much thought, as when he was an angel; there was always something more important going on.

“What?” Dean asked, turning slightly to look at the pair.

“Just said I hope whatever you’re making’s good.” Sam lied, making it look so easy.

Why couldn’t Cas do it as simple as him?

“Of course it’s gonna be good.” Dean scoffed, acting offended.

“Pretty cocky for someone who’d never cooked a day in his life.” Sam countered back, smiling.

“Hey! I’ve cooked!” Dean exclaimed.

“Yeah? When?” Sam asked, folding his arms over his chest and looking at his brother with his ‘I win’ look.

“Plenty of times! I was a pretty kick-ass cook back when-”

Dean’s face fell at the memory, swallowing thickly before turning back around to the stove. Cas tilted his head in confusion and looked to the other man, hoping for an explanation. Sam had uncrossed his arms and was looking at a spot on the floor, his jaw clenched like he was a kid who was getting in trouble.

“I don’t-”

“You finish the research?” Dean asked icily, cutting Cas off.

Sam closed his eyes but otherwise didn’t answer the question. He let a breath out through his nose before hopping off the stool and walking out of the room, looking two inches tall instead of his impressive 6’4”. Cas looked back to the eldest, who was still facing the stove, but had stopped cooking.

Cas could see how tense he was by his shoulders, his head hung down, no doubt his eyes closed while he cursed himself for something he thought he’d done wrong. If Cas was still an angel he’d be able to read his mind and find out, in the hopes of helping him, but now he could only ask and hope he didn’t lie or shut down, the way Cas had seen him do to other humans.

“Dean?” Cas asked, hating the tense silence, mostly because he didn’t understand why it was tense and wanting to help.

“Yeah Cas?” Dean asked back, sounding deflated as well.

Cas began to bite at his bottom lip, he wasn’t sure what to do, how to approach the subject, because he didn’t even know what the subject was, other than the fact that it was something both brother’s didn’t want to talk about.

That gave Cas that it was part of their past, but knowing that it was the Winchesters, it could be anything in their past.

He really, really hated not being an angel.

“Cas?” Dean asked, suddenly so close to the man that he could count his freckles.

“Sorry.” Cas apologize, going to take a step back, momentarily thinking he’d popped in too close to the eldest, as he often did, before falling off the stool.

Cas looked around with his head tilted, trying to find a reason as to why he was on the floor.

“You okay, man?” Dean asked, holding his hand out to help him stand up.

“Yes, I just forgot where I was for a moment.” Cas explained, taking the hand with his own.

A moment went by with the two of them just holding each other’s hands, Cas’ head tilted to the side in confusion, Dean with his eyebrows raised, expecting the new human to pull himself up.

“Cas?” Dean asked expectantly.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas replied, locking eyes with the man.

“You, uh, plan on keeping my hand? Or can I have it back?” Dean asked, his smirk making it’s way onto his face.

Cas looked back up to the hunter, confusion still evident in his eyes.

“Let go.” Dean stated, looking down to their hands.

The ex-angel followed his gaze and his eyebrows rose in surprise, as if he thought he had let go. He quickly let go and looked to the side, trying to hide his face from the hunter.

“Sorry.” Cas mumbled, feeling heat in his cheeks.

“It’s fine, I know it’s your first time.” Dean replied with a chuckle before going back to the stove.

“Hope your hungry Cas, ‘cause this is pretty awesome.” Dean stated, turning the burner off and taking out two plates.

“I’m sure it’s good Dean.” Cas replied, biting his lip.

He couldn’t just keep this to himself, Dean would be pissed if he found out he’d been keeping something as big as this from him.

The mentioned sat down, a giant grin on his face, before sliding Cas’ plate in front of him, complete with eating utensils (Cas smiled fondly as he remembered the first time he’d tried to eat with the hunters and they had all gotten their own food – the ex-angel hadn’t noticed either man grab a fork from the drawer and started eating with his hands until he realized both men were starring at him). Cas sent an appreciative smile toward the man and tried to think of the best way to bring up him losing his job.

“Dig in before it gets cold.” Dean stated, startling the ex-angel out of his thoughts.

Cas looked down at his plate of food, and picked his fork up carefully.

“What is it?” He asked, eyes flicking up to the hunter.

Dean looked up from his own food before laughing and shaking his head, going back to his food. Cas tilted his head in confusion – that surely wasn’t the response he thought he’d get from the hunter.

“So Cas, anything interesting happen today?” Dean asked, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

Cas felt something roll down his back again and almost dropped the fork as his hands got unexplainably wet. He gripped it harder and tried to think of something he could tell the hunter without making him suspicious.

“N-nothing interesting.” Cas stammered.

“Yeah like I’m gonna believe that.” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“What happened? You get fired or something?” Dean joked, bumping his arm slightly.

Cas’ head shot up and he starred wide-eyed at the hunter, unable to think of a way to lie his way out of that. Dean looked at him and the smile slowly slid off his face as he noticed the man’s expression.

“Cas?” Dean asked in his ‘you better not lie to me unless you want me to beat the truth out of you’ voice.

“Yes?” Cas asked carefully, looking down at his food, avoiding the hunter’s eyes.

Did you get fired today?” Dean questioned, sliding his stool closer.

“Why would you ask that?” Cas was stalling, and he knew that Dean knew it too.

If he could, he would’ve popped out of the room, via angel-air but unfortunately that was no longer an option.

“Because no one reacts like that to something unless they’re hiding something from someone.” Dean explained.

“You said that working at a gas station was the easiest job ever, how would you think I could get fired from the easiest job ever?” Cas asked, still avoiding his eyes.

“Cas.” Dean warned.

The ex-angel looked up and finally met the hunter’s eyes, slightly surprised at the pissed tone he’d heard. Sure he’d heard it before but it’d never been directed at him. Dean’s face softened a bit and he gave a small, sad smile before reaching forward and swiping something off Cas’ cheek.

I’m crying? Cas thought, feeling his cheeks flare up again for showing how stupidly weak he was.

He’s definitely going to kick me out now. Cas thought bitterly, looking down to the floor, not wanting to see the change from disappointment to disgust on his face.

“Cas.” Dean breathed before standing up.

Here it comes. Cas thought, body tensing at the yelling he was waiting for.

Before he could process what was happening, he felt himself be pressed up against something warm and firm. It took a moment before he realized that the thing he was pressed against was Dean’s chest.

He’s going for pity? He should just get it over with. Cas thought, staying just as still as he always had been.

“It’s okay Cas.” Dean mumbled into the shorter man’s hair.

For some reason the ex-angel felt himself relax into the soothing circles being rubbed into his back. Part of him was wondering what the hunter was doing, part of him didn’t care and another part of him was wondering why his shirt was wet.

It took a moment for him to realize that he was crying into Dean’s shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears he didn’t know he was shedding.

“Sh, Cas, it’s okay. It’s okay.” The hunter cooed, voice softer than he’d ever heard it.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Cas kept repeating, over and over, wishing he could just disappear.

He didn’t want to be here with the hunters anymore. They would definitely think he was weak now that he’d cried over losing a job. He was such an outcast he wondered why they bothered keeping him around at all. Now that he wasn’t angel he couldn’t fly them anywhere, or smoke enemies – he was just a baby in a trench coat.

After who-knows-how-long, Cas finally stopped crying into his shoulder, but they stayed in the position, even though the ex-angel was fairly certain that the position Dean was standing in couldn’t be comfortable, if anything it must’ve been hurting his back to hold the position for so long. Dean finally took Cas by the shoulders, holding him out at arms length, eyeing him with a concern he’d only ever seen be used to examine his brother.

“Dean?” Cas questioned, beginning to feel unnerved at how concerned the hunter looked.

“We’ll find you another job Cas, don’t worry about it.” Dean stated.

“Thank-you Dean, but I’m sure I’ll be able-”

“We’ll find you a job and get you back on your feet. As long as it takes.” Dean interrupted, still looking eerily concerned.

“Yeah, okay Dean.” Cas agreed, nodding his head slowly, wondering if something was wrong with the Winchester.

“I don’t ever want to hear that again you understand?” Dean demanded, suddenly sounding like his father.

“Hear what again?” Cas questioned, getting more confused the longer he talked.

“That you think we’d kick you out because you lost your job! You are not useless Cas! You kick serious ass!” Dean exclaimed, a proud smile splitting his face.

When did I…? Cas thought, looking curiously at the Winchester in front of him.

“Let’s just say you aren’t the only one who can read minds.” Dean winked, his smirk replacing the smile.

“Now” Dean clapped his hands and stepped back away from the ex-angel,

“Whaddya say I whip us up some burgers and we go watch Road Runner?” Dean asked, eyebrows raising suggestively at the man standing before him.

“But what about the…other food you made?” Cas asked, still not sure what he’d made.

Dean looked at the plates with a smile before grabbing them both and walking out of the kitchen, returning a few minutes later empty handed and grinning like an idiot.


“Dean, what did you do with the food?” Cas asked, nodding to answer his own question.

“Let’s just say Sammy got a little surprise.”

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