#And they're the same as usual so Sam just assumes Castiel is showing them to him and Dean | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

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La Pomme ~ Chapter 15

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 4,900

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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George was jolted out of her unconsciousness by dropping face first down on the pine needle covered ground. Letting out a startled, painful groan she lay still for a moment, trying to pull herself out of her stupor and gather her bearings. The atmosphere was chilly and caused goosebumps on her skin, so she knew she was outside still. From listening, she could tell that there were multiple people in the same area as her; presumably more of her captures. While she could hear the faint sounds of people talking, she couldn't discern what they were saying.

She thought she heard a strained, quiet voice nearby speak to her, "George? Is that you?"

Quickly scanning for injuries, she began at her toes and mentally swept her body for pain. From being tossed on the ground like a ragdoll, her left arm and hip were painfully sore and bruised, her left cheek was sliced open under her eye, and her bottom lip was split from hitting her teeth on impact. She began to slowly pick herself up off the ground, spitting blood out as it pooled unpleasantly in her mouth. Without opening her eyes, she leaned herself up against the tree she'd landed near. Her head was throbbing and her body was sore. She opened her eyes slowly and tried to find something to focus on to prevent passing out.

She heard the faint voice again, "George, are you OK? Can you hear me?"

"I'm getting there," She replied slowly. She'd chosen a picnic table about 15 yards away, across a circular clearing in the woods, to focus on and it was starting to work. When she finally only saw one, stationary table, she began allowing herself to consider her peripheral.

She saw that she was against a tree at the edge of a small circular clearing attached to a trail that led off into the woods in either direction. There were a few picnic tables in the area, an unused fire pit, and nothing else but trees around. At one of the picnic tables she saw a small group of decidedly boring looking people, all dressed head to toe in white, gathered around, talking in hushed tones. She noticed the woman from earlier--Duma--walking quickly away from her, toward the grouping. George still hadn't remembered if she was angel, demon, or other but from watching the show she knew it truly didn't matter; she was most likely in serious danger either way.

It was a few minutes before she remembered the voice coming from next to her and turned her head to find a familiar, smooth, 90s-male-model face staring back at her. Jack was about five feet away, also leaning up against a tree trunk. When she made eye contact, he smiled weakly, a peculiar look on his face.

"Jack!" She grinned, elated that she'd found him, as the pounding in her head eased.

"George. How did you get here?" He asked, curiously. He tried to sit up more, excited to see her, and that's when she noticed he was badly injured. From what she could see, he had a large gash on the right side of his head, his ear was covered in blood from it. His ankle looked swollen and purple, possibly broken, and the whole bottom half of his shirt was soaked from blood pouring out of a stab wound in his gut.

"Jesus Christ, Jack! What happened?!" She forced herself onto her hands and knees with a soft groan of pain and crawled the short distance to him.

"Just the usual angel hospitality," he replied weakly.

"Angels; figures. OK, Jack, you've lost a lot of blood but I need you to stay awake and focus on helping me stop the bleeding. Sam and Dean are on their way--"

"Sam and Dean are with you?" At the mention of their name, he grabbed her arm and held on tight, giving her a desperate look.

"Of course," she assured, suddenly having to swallow back tears as a rush of emotions hit her. Gently removing his hand from her arm and looking him in the eyes, she promised, "They're coming to get you, okay? We just have to try and stop the bleeding 'till they get here, that's all." She quickly yanked her Friends hoodie off, ignoring the chill that consumed her as soon as she did, and pressed it gently but firmly against his stomach wound. He let out a strangled yell and she shushed him softly.

"It's okay, you'll be okay. Dean and Sam are coming." Quickly, I hope, she added in her head.

He did not look good and she wasn't sure what to do other than apply pressure. She looked around the area futilely, knowing there was really nothing out in the middle of the redwoods she could use to help him in this situation. She froze when she noticed the group of angels staring at her intently.

"Oh, great," she muttered when one of them began walking toward her and Jack. "Don't move!" She held him down when he started trying to get up as the man approached.

"Run!" He begged with hushed urgency.

"I'm not leaving you, you nut." She grabbed his limp, cold hand and placed it on the sweater-turned-bandage pressed against his wound. "Focus, Jack. Try to put pressure on this, okay? Hey, focus!" She could tell he was in trouble. Once she got him to hold the sweater, she stood up slowly, facing the man who'd walked over. She prayed she didn't seem as nervous as she definitely was.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" She spat out uncontrollably at the smug look on the angel's face.

"Sorry about that. He struggled a bit and… well, as you humans like to say, accidents happen." The arrogant, coiffed angel stopped six feet from her and smiled. It was a fake, customer service smile that nowhere near reached his eyes, which were wide and frighteningly blank of emotion. He was about 5'11, had heavily gelled, short, black hair and a thin, perfectly shaped mustache, with tanned skin and piercing blue eyes. His stark white business suit was crisp and fashionable. "Would you like me to heal him for you?" He offered with a hint of sarcasm.

"Do not touch him." She took a shaky step toward him and tried to puff herself up a little, taking up space and making sure she was standing as much between him and Jack as she could.

"It seems my colleague was right, you certainly are an interesting… what exactly are you?" He inquired, looking her up and down.

"If you say so. But he may not have much time." He was far too happy about that and she sneered at him. She just needed to stall long enough for Sam and Dean to find them. The place had a familiar feel and with all the picnic tables and the clearly defined path, she had to assume they were still at the Trees of Enigma attraction; it couldn't be long before the brother's were able to track Jack down as they'd started to do before she got kidnapped.

"Oh you angels are real subtle with the judgement. Sorry, I'm not dressed as fancily as you, pretty boy," She crossed her arms.

"It hasn't nothing to do with the way you look, you ignorant ape," his fake initial kindness was fading fast. "I can't sense you. Why not?"

"Uh, maybe because sensing people is really fucking creepy? If any of these other angels were really your friend, they'd tell you that."

"Now you listen to me," the angel seemed a bit irritated now, and began walking briskly toward her. She stumbled several steps back before his large hand wrapped tightly around her throat. As he lifted her barely off the ground. "I'm not here for your entertainment, child. Tell me what you are and why you're here with the Winchesters before I kill you."

Ok, make that a lot irritated. George gasped for air and clawed at his arm, trying to choke out an answer. When he couldn't understand her, he set her down and momentarily loosened his grip.

"Yes?" He asked patiently.

"My… my name-" She coughed and gulped in air. He allowed her to wrench out of his grip and she bent at the waist. Waiting until she could get a slow and steady flow of air, before looking up at him slowly, she said, "My name… is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, now prepare to die."

The angel huffed like an angry bull before back handing her so hard she fell to the ground, landing across Jack's outstretched legs. When he had no reaction to her body crashing on top of him, her neck snapped up and she saw he'd passed out.

"Jack!" She whispered nervously, trying to pull herself up. "Ah!" The angel grabbed a fistful of her long blonde hair and yanked up hard, preventing her from moving.

"Just so you know!" Everyone turned and looked at the voice that had just shouted at them from the west, 50 yards away. George visibly relaxed when she saw it was coming from Dean Winchester. "Whoever the fuck you are?"

Sam, who was close by near a tree trunk, slowly pointed a bloody finger directly at the angel who'd hit George and promised "You're gonna pay for that." He then slammed his hand down on the angel banishing sigil that was drawn in his blood on the trunk next to him. With a bright blinding blast of energy, the small cluster of angels was gone. George dropped back down, using her hands to catch herself. She, Jack, Sam, and Dean were the only ones left in the clearing.

"You GUYS!" George shouted. "He's hurt bad." Ignoring the white hot throbbing on the right side of her face, she'd crawled up to Jack's torso and pressed the fallen away sweatshirt back against his wound. It began drizzling as Sam and Dean sprinted toward them and came to a skid on their knees on either side of Jack. They both frantically began checking him over.

Sam happened to glance at George's wounds as he was maneuvering around Jack and instinctively reached out towards her in concern. She locked eyes with him and stopped him in his tracks, "Don't even think about it; he could die." She was absolutely right and he yanked his phone out of his pocket, dialing Castiel.

"He's lost a lot of blood, damnit!" Dean was seeing red; those angels were going to die if Jack did.

"He needs medical attention now. The nearest hospital is 20 minutes away and it's going to take us about that long to get to the car if we're lucky." Sam sounded scared but tried to keep it together. "And Castiel's not answering his phone!"

"He's so cold," George whimpered uncontrollably, her tears beginning to fall.

"It's just freezing out here!" Dean shouted in anger, and she could see his breath in the air for emphasis. George winced when she could hear the undeniable fear in his voice as well. If Dean was worried enough not to hide it, things were dire.

"What do we do?!" Sam nearly screamed, redialing Cas pointlessly once again.

George sat back on her heels and tried to think, but she could barely even breathe. Her stomach was twisting into nauseating knots and she felt her heart pounding. A panic attack was coming on, the intensity of which genuinely made her feel like her heart was going to explode. Her vision began to tunnel and she felt ringing in her ears. She closed her eyes so that she didn't fall over from dizziness and forced herself to take the deepest breath she possibly could. She held the breath for just a moment too long before a sharp pain in her chest caused her to release with a hiss.

Suddenly she knew where they should go.

"If you guys can get him to the car, I might know somewhere nearby we can try for help." The second George had said the words, she'd regretted it. They had almost no other choice, though, so she just prayed to whomever that they'd get lucky, just this once. Dean and Sam didn't need to be told twice. Bracing themselves in the now muddy ground, they picked Jack up gently, one brother at either end of him.

They had prepared themselves to begin the long and arduous trek back toward the car, yet when they rounded their first corner they found themselves standing in front of the emergency exit, which just so happened to lead them to the end of the parking lot closest to where they'd parked. It nearly stopped them all in their tracks but they knew Jack had very little time to survive, so they launched themselves out of the gate and across the asphalt about 50 feet to their parked car. Luckily the park closed an hour ago, so there was no one around to see the two men carrying a half dead person and a beat up George following fast behind.

When they reached the car, Sam got in the backseat with Jack carefully. George tore into the passenger's side knees first, in order to face them and help hold pressure on his stomach wound. Dean jumped in the driver's seat and roared the engine on.

"Nice job with the tire," Dean practically shouted in appreciation at her as he peeled out of the parking lot, headed in the direction she ordered.

"Be careful, Dean, it's still a donut!" Sam warned angrily.

They'd just pulled out onto the highway and Dean was gunning it, "How far?"

"Not far at all, slow down! Take the exit up ahead, to the left." She gestured in the general direction.

"Rosewood?"

"Yeah. Then take the second right. Third house, at the end of the court." In two minutes Dean had screeched the Impala to a halt in front of a large home on half an acre in Klamath. George almost cried with relief when she saw the small, stout woman with reddish blonde hair standing out front in her garden watering the plants.

"Aunt Lorna!" She leapt from the car and ran over to her, throwing her arms around the stunned woman before she could stop herself. "My God, it's a miracle!"

"I'm sorry, who are you?" The woman ripped herself away from George and took a few steps back, clutching the hose she'd had in her hand like a weapon. George kicked herself for scaring her and stepped back with her hands up.

"I'm sorry. You don't know me, obviously, but I know you. You're Lorna Iris, right? You're a nurse in Gibbousville? My friends and I need your help, one of them is hurt pretty bad."

"Worse than you?" The woman asked, looking over her bruised and bloodied face suspiciously.

"Much worse. He needs help and I don't think he'll make it to a hospital." By this time, Dean had pulled their medical supplies out of the car and was now helping Sam pull Jack out gently.

"Holy God," Lorna said, seeing the state he was in and taking a step toward him before pausing. She looked again at George. "Who are you?"

"Someone who needs your help. Please?" George begged.

Stacey, the cute library clerk, was standing in front of her, eyes cast downward. When she held her slender hands up in inquiry, George bit her lip, considering it for a moment before eventually nodding slowly. The beautiful bookworm stepped closer and gently placed her cool, silky smooth hands up under George's breasts. After attempting to cup them and failing because of their size, Stacey decided instead to rub her hands in slow circles over the soft, pale globes.

Lorna stared at her for a moment before looking back at Jack's unconscious body and then to Sam and Dean who were both looking at her with pleading eyes. She let out an exasperated breath and then nodded, motioning for them to come inside. They went with her into the house while George grabbed their medical bag and followed close behind.

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George was inside the small library office, sitting up on the desk, back straight, chest out. Her thumbs were hooked into the fabric of her white cotton bra and black henley shirt, raising them up to her throat.

George groaned a bit; her nipples hardened under Stacey's touch. She hadn't anticipated things going this far when she agreed to flashing, but Stacey was beautiful and charming, putting her at ease quickly. There was something incredibly erotic about the whole thing, so George closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the thrill.

Her eyes flew open again in surprise when she felt a sudden, dramatic drop in temperature as Stacey's hands disappeared. George could see her breath, like a lame dragon, as she gasped in air and goosebumps covered her body. Looking around frantically, she realized she was now kneeling on the ground in some brush at the bottom of a tall, bloody redwood tree. When she lowered her shirt, she noticed on the ground in front of her was Jack. He was deathly pale, his lips were blue, and there was a large pool of blood underneath him.

"Jack?!" She gasped, reaching down to him. His skin was freezing to the touch, causing her to shiver. There was so much blood, but she touched his neck to feel for a pulse anyway. Her eyes filled with tears when she couldn't find one and she sniffled, "Jack!"

George jumped and gasped loudly as Jack's hands suddenly darted up and wrapped tightly around her throat. His eyes flew open and emitted a bright white light. A loud shushing noise filled her ears and the sound of someone shouting behind plate glass was booming in the distance. George opened her mouth to scream but stopped when Jack's face began distorting, melting and swirling grotesquely.

"WherrrRE ARe youuu?" Came a garbled call from the general location of Jack's mouth. Suddenly the fingers on her throat tightened on her windpipe when she heard a beckoning, "Georgia! GEORGIA!"

"Georgia. Georgia!" Her eyes snapped open to see Sam gently shaking her awake.

Thankful to be out of her terrifying dream, George realized she must have accidentally passed out on the couch while the boys were helping Lorna work on Jack. They'd been lucky--once again--that Lorna happened to have a small store of helpful medical supplies in house to put Jack back together and stabilize him. She didn't have any blood bags on hand but she'd been able to provide fluids and meds to help his body relax and heal.

"Your turn," He ordered, then moved over so that Lorna could sit down in front of her.

"That's not necessary. I'm fine," George lied, shaking the fog of her nightmare away quickly. She actually hurt like hell all over, but it was mostly bumps and bruises; nothing some painkillers and time wouldn't heal eventually. The dream was bothering her more than her aches at the moment.

"You need stitches on your cheek and potentially some in your lip," Lorna wasn't one for bullshit and had a strong, authoritative presence. People listened to her because she always spoke like she knew exactly what she was talking about (and 99% of the time, she truly did). Lorna held out a glass and two pills, ordering, "Take two of these, turn your head to the left, and don't argue."

"Good luck with that." Sam teased, quietly. George shot him a dirty look and took the medicine and water glass from her alt-reality aunt's outstretched hand, downing them. She then turned her head to look out her aunt's large bay window into the murky darkness of the night.

"How's Jack?" She asked, straining her eyeballs to look between them as Lorna began examining and cleaning the cut on her cheek.

"He's stable but critical. I honestly didn't know if I could do much without some blood, which is what he really needs, but I got him leveled out at least. It'll probably be rough going for a few hours; the longer he makes it without coding, the better his chances of pulling through." She spoke with a kind, but matter of fact tone that one develops the longer they're a nurse.

"Thank God," George closed her eyes and allowed a few tears of relief to roll down her cheeks. Her alt-aunt kindly, yet nonchalantly wiped them away with a cotton ball and then gently turned her head back to facing forward. George could feel her cleaning the cut on her lip now and she took a deep breath to gather herself.

When she opened her eyes again, she was looking right into Sam's beautiful hazel green ones, which had been watching her with concern. Her cheeks burned red and more tears welled up. She felt she didn't deserve his concern. She'd risked Jack's life by telling that asshole angel not to heal him and having them come here: her aunt Lorna's home. In an alternate reality. There were a thousand different reasons why Lorna shouldn't have still been in the exact same house in this Supernatural reality. They'd gotten so, so lucky and it made George feel incredibly guilty.

Lorna finished cleaning and checking George's bloody lip, and explained, "good news is your lip won't need stitches. Bad news is it's gonna be irritated for a few days while it heals. Be careful when you eat that you don't bite the cut accidently because that would really hurt. Still need to stitch up that cheek." As she set to work giving George three small stitches, she also warned her and Sam that she really couldn't identify internal injuries this way and that they should go to a hospital ASAP to be safe. It was the exact same spiel she'd given Sam and Dean regarding Jack when she finished tending to him, so she knew it was falling on deaf ears but she had to try. She got up and left the room, leaving Sam and George alone for now.

"Sam, I'm so sorry." George put her head in her hands and a few more fat tears escaped.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" He was incredibly confused at her reaction. She'd handled herself insanely well considering the situation and they might not have been able to save Jack without her.

"Jack was dying and I brought you to my aunt's house. My aunt, who is a person in real life and does not exist on Supernatural the television show!" She'd dropped her hands and looked up at him with an ashamed look on her face. Her words stung him, as though she didn't consider him a real person, but he began to understand why she was feeling so guilty.

"Except she does exist here, whether 'here' is a television show or somewhere else; you saw the article about the fire. Your grandparents died after she was born. So, she exists, just not as your aunt." From Sam's perspective, she'd saved Jack's life and without her, who knows what would have happened to him; death or worse if the angels had gotten a hold of him permanently.

George got up and started pacing. "But still as a nurse? With the same married last name? Living in the same house she's had since I was 8?" George shook her head, getting angrier with herself. "What is going on? No fucking way should this have worked and you know it, Sam. What was I thinking? He could have DIED!"

"You weren't thinking," Sam grabbed her hands, squeezing them gently and stopping her anxious motion. "It was a terrifying situation--for us all--and you acted on your instincts. And they turned out to be right." He tugged on her arms just enough to force her to look up at him and he said sincerely, "just like they have been since you got here."

"Damn right." Dean had entered the room, wiping the blood from his hands with a rag. When she turned toward him, he looked her right in the eye. "I just got off the phone with Cas. The whole thing in Montana had been a trap for me and Sam. The demons found the team before Cas got there. Suzie and Garth are in the hospital, but expected to recover. Carol's dead," Dean paused in a moment of respect for a fellow fallen hunter and then stuffed the dirty rag in his pocket and walked closer to her. "You were right about it being a trap. You were right about where to find Jack. And you were right about being able to change a tire." The tears she'd been shakily holding back fell all at once as she let out an emotional laugh and closed her eyes.

They popped open again in surprise as she felt thick, strong arms wrap tightly around her. She, herself, wasn't used to a lot of hugging and she never expected Dean would be very comfortable with it, but the whole thing felt weirdly natural to her. Hugging him back timidly, she drew a familial sense of comfort from him.

"Thank you," He breathed, allowing himself a rare moment of genuine gratitude. He pulled back out of the hug and gave her a playful slug on the shoulder. "So, stop beating yourself up; you saved him, George. And you got your ass kicked doing it. I promise you now, whoever that angel fuck is, he will pay for that." Sam nodded in agreement and George squirmed uncomfortably, not used to people looking out for her like this.

Before she could argue, Lorna came back into the room with a laundry basket full of bloody sheets and rags. "Listen folks, the main house is too small for you all to sleep here. So the three of you might as well set up shop in my converted garage apartment for the time being."

Sam moved over to her and took the basket from her hands, silently offering his assistance. "Thank you. What a gentleman." She gave him a look of careful consideration. She then turned back to address them all, "I usually AirBNB it but it's empty at the moment. There's only one bedroom upstairs but it has two beds and there's a pull out couch downstairs, so it should do nicely. Enough beds not to share but if you do, I just ask that you change and wash the sheets afterwards." The three of them shared a confused, yet amused look at her nonchalant instruction. "If one of you boys wants to move the recliners here into your friend's room, you can have something comfy to sit in while you hover." She pointed to the leather rocking chairs she had in her living room as an offering and then looked at Sam again, "laundry's this way, Hon. Let's go."

Sam followed her from the room with a nod and George and Dean grabbed one of the recliners together, moving it to Jack's room. When George finally turned to look at Jack for the first time, she winced and placed a hand over her mouth. He looked like a fake cadaver you'd see on some true crime show and it startled her. She held her breath until she was sure she could see his chest moving. She gently touched his hand and was thankful to feel warmth there, calming her paranoid mind. Her heart thumped in her chest and she started crying silently again. She was just so relieved he was alive.

"Why don't you go get some sleep and I'll take first watch?" Dean placed a gentle, supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"No," She said determinedly. She just needed to be around Jack right now to feel assured that everything was OK. And sleep was not anything she was interested in after her earlier dream. "I just had a catnap, I'm good. I'm gonna stay and watch over him for a while." She gave Dean a look that told him it was pointless to argue, so he went off in search of Sam and Lorna to be shown their temporary digs.

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dustydreamsanddirtyscars · 7 years

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(1) hi! i hope you're doing good because damn 12x15 was a rollercoaster 👀 i hope they do justice to all the things they're foreshadowing to in regards to dean. this is gonna sound petty but was it just me or did anyone else notice the way he said "let's hope it still runs"? he calls the car "it", not "she", moments after berating sam for her condition and a few hours after calling her a "beautiful woman." idk why that really struck me. i have been reading your dean-impala parallels so

(2) what do you make of that? also did anyone else grimace when dean said "girl of the week"? excuse me? i didn't know you switched jobs from hunting monsters to saving poor damsels in distress who can't even hit a hellhound with an axe- oh wait.... --___--(3) (i am so sorry for the spam but this ep left me kinda bitter) no offence but cas has been caught in the same situation so many times where angels keep telling him he is not welcome in heaven but it is still his home, why :/ what do you make of The Return Of Joshua lmao(4) last one i promise: dean did nothing but go in the woods with crowley, take a walk, talk about stuff that had no relation with the plot or character development, sounded gay just for the heck of it, and was a good waste of quite a few hours? :// also he kinda joined BMoL so your feelings on that? it seemed like smth he told himself he was doing for his family bc thats how he is but maybe he just didn't want to be alone and feel like they chose the BMoL over him...

Good evening dear!

Well there go a lot of questions. :) I’m gonna tackle all of them one after the other in the order you asked them.

Yes, I did actually stumble upon the “hope it still runs” as well when I re-watched the episode. During first watch I hadn’t really heard that. And it is indeed I personally think meant to stand out. It’s a distancing happening here that I am seeing directly in line with how Dean consciously and very decidedly distanced himself from their mother the episode before by calling her Mary instead of Mom (see here). We have seen this kind of treating the Impala as an it only once before: when Dean was a demon. And that is indeed an interesting aspect to keep in the back of your mind, because as much as the Impala is a symbol for Dean himself, it is also an object directly tied to family. When Dean was a demon however, he didn’t feel any kind of responsibility or care for the people he usually feels closest too. Instead he only did what he wanted without taking anybody else’s emotions into account. There have been a few allusions and nods to Dean’s time as a demon/with the MoC in the past few episodes and this is especially interesting in so far as the last few episodes very directly eroded the feeling of family Dean craved and the understanding and wishes he had for it. In the past few episodes he has been lied to, betrayed, walked all over and treated as being ridiculous for feeling the way he felt (and which he had every right to feel like, because well, he wasn’t going behind someone else’s back) and in the end even decided to work with the BritMoL against his better knowledge and wishes, because his closest family “chose” the BritMoL over Dean or rather their own set of dealing with stuff. So yeah, in that regard imo one could read this moment as one more sign of Dean shutting down in order to not get hurt any further.

Aside from that however, one could also assume btw that Dean meant the engine with “it” - that the engine still runs when the car was damaged so much.

The “girl of the week”-line to me seemed like one of those moments the writers tried to be funny and maybe even a bit “meta”, but instead it was just a bit eyeroll-worthy. I think however that Dean said it with enough sarcasm and self deprecation in his voice that I didn’t get that vibe from it that you did. :) The line in itself was absolutely un-needed though.

I do get the disappointment. What the show is doing with Cas’ arc is dissatisfying too, especially as they had made such major progress with Cas up until this point in the season with him pinpointing his feelings and emotions, etc. and now they go back to yet another round of “Cas trying to reconcile with Heaven” and it ending with Castiel being even more beatdown in the aftermath of it and likely hated even more so that his depression will only get worse. I truly think the issue with these stories lies in the fact that the writers sadly have no clue what to do with Cas and because they need to explain his absence and Misha not beign in more episodes in some silly fashion Castiel must always be on some other mission. And yeah... I wished they stopped with that. I do hope that this will be the final part of Castiel’s arc before he choses to become human on his own terms. Because for that I think it is vital for Cas to return to Heaven once more, feeling like he redeemed himself yet another time, but most importantly isn’t remembered and hated any longer. I personally hope that this may be Castiel’s last mission with the angels. A mission that wil show him succeed and would mean him being welcome back in the fold in Heaven and getting the chance to be with his “family” again as the angel said in this episode. I think it is vital that Cas will go back and will be considered part of the family again in Heaven in order for him to truly realize what he has voiced multiple times before: that he may be an angel, but his home and family is no longer Heaven. That’s my hope for this arc.

I am a bit weary about Joshua tbh. I just hope he won’t be turned into another power hungry angel, because I did really like Joshua as the gardener in 5x16 “Dark Side of the Moon”. I really hope they’ll use the same actor too. That said, story wise I’m not sure why they introduce exactly him, we’ll maybe because he was closest to God for a while, but yeah... No immediate thoughts on him. I just hope he won’t trun out being a massive dick.

I actually really enjoyed Crowley and Dean walking through the woods together and having that conversation. It of course echoed the conversation they had in 10x18 “Inside Man” and it does show that despite everything they do in some fashion care or at the very least appreciate the other one. To me that conversation actually did relate quite directly to the episode and big arc as imo the point is to contrast “monsters” who do good with “humans” (BritMoL) who are way more dangerous and monstrous. Like the conversation highlighted was: there are a whole lot of shades of grey between black and white - which the BritMoL aren’t even interested in seeing.

And last but not least Sam’s revelation about the BritMoL: I think Dean has sown very clearly how disillusioned and hurt he is by Sam’s and Mary’s actions and their lies to him and with Sam even worse having him work for the BritMoL without Dean even knowing. To me Dean hasn’t joined the BritMoL at all. He was bullied into saying alright, we give it a shot, but he is not on board with it and I don’t think that will change at any point in time. I think what the show is heading towards is a moment where either Sam will not bail with Dean as he had promised and that will cause even more tension or Dean may be considered too rebelious and therefore may have to suffer whatever the other hunter they called “rogue” did too. And sadly it may only then be that Mary and Sam truly get a grip on what nasty fuckers the BritMoL really are. But that’s of course just my personal headcanon. :)

Hope I didn’t forget any question.

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