#also how soft Dean's voice was when he said to Cas >Talk to me<

[angelinthefire]

So my latest idea for deancas in the winchesters tv show (a tv show that I have not watched [... yet???]) is roughly something like this:

ok, Dean and Jack and Bobby get back to Heaven, and Dean goes into the Roadhouse this time. It's a little party. You can tell that Dean is still melancholy. And then he sees Cas again. Cas is kind of nervous. But Dean just melts when he sees him, and also manages to look somehow sadder. And he hugs him tight for a long time. And Cas relaxes too. But they're still in the Roadhouse surrounded by people, so they don't talk, and Dean gets pulled back into the celebrations.

But later, it's night, and Dean steps out back of the Roadhouse, into the field. Cas is there, looking up at the sky, hands in his pockets. Dean comes and stands next to him.

Their conversation starts out much the same way as in Full of Grace, with Dean being like:

"I missed you."

"I missed you too. Though I was hoping you'd take longer to get here."

Dean scoffs and shakes his head. "I tried, y'know. To be the guy you gave that speech to."

Cas turns to face him fully. "You are that guy."

"Cas..." Dean's gaze seaches Cas' face as he searches for what to say.

Then:

Dean focuses and asks softly, "What do you want?"

"Dean?"

"Tell me. You said the one thing you want is something you can't have. So tell me."

Cas fumbles for the right words for a beat, just the thought of what he wants alone starting to make him emotional. Finally he says with a sad smile, "To have a life with you."

And the irony is not lost on Dean. He takes a breath that's thick with tears, clearly thinking about might-have-beens. His gaze drops from Cas' eyes to his mouth, and he says with a soft desperation, "Then let's get out of here. Let's live."

Cas balks. "I can't."

"Since when do you care about rules?"

Cas just looks at him imploringly.

But Dean is already getting worked up at the idea. "Come on, what's one more time? It'll be just 30, 40 years, that's nothing." He grips Cas's arm. "But we can... you can have anything." His eyes are bright with a hungry kind of hope. "I want... I wanna give you anything."

And Cas is clearly getting reeled in. He's staring at Dean like he wants to kiss him.

"He doesn't mean it, you know."

Cas and Dean turn towards the new voice.

"Jack?" Cas says.

"He's telling you what you want to hear, so you'll do what he wants," Jack says with a kindness tipping towards pity.

"What the hell?" Dean says.

Jack turns to him, matter of factly, "Am I wrong?"

"Of course you're fucking wrong. The hell is wrong with you?"

Jack shakes his head sadly. "What's wrong with you? You have heaven, Dean." He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. "There is something wrong with you, isn't there?" he says like he's seeing it for the first time.

Dean hardens. "Then kick me outta heaven. Go on!"

"... where's Jack?" says Cas, who hasn't stopped staring at Jack the whole time.

Jack turns to him, confused.

So Cas repeats himself, firmly but slowly, "Where is Jack?"

A horrified look comes over Dean's face.

Not-Jack smiles. "He's with me. Don't worry, he's safe." It's not reassuring.

And anyways, the upshot of the following dialogue would be that Chuck didn't win. Chuck has to live out his miserable existence on earth. But God did win. Because Chuck was just a guy that God was possessing. But the way God possesses someone, they start to lose sense of themselves, and parts of their personality start to find expression in God. Chuck was petty and squirrely. Jack will be a different kind of God. But the whole thing is unsettling and chilling.

I'm not sure how I would have things escalate, but they do. Of course Cas wants God to leave Jack alone, maybe he even offers himself as a vessel but God refuses. Idk, more stuff is said, it ends with God giving them a clear and definite threat about not screwing shit up anymore.

Then he disappears.

Dean and Cas are both striken. They talk. "What do we do?" - "What can we do?" etc. etc. I haven't thought about this part in depth, but some sort of plan is made.

Dean caps off the conversation with "We've got work to do"

They head towards the impala. Then,

"Dean?"

Dean turns towards Cas.

"Did you mean it?"

Dean doesn't answer at first.

"It's okay if you didn't," Cas says. And he's sincere. He's got bigger things to be upset about now, after all. "I'd understand."

Dean gets a hard look. He moves towards Cas, grabs him by the lapels, and pulls him close, and when they're close enough to kiss, Dean says,

"We're gonna kill god. And then I'm gonna show you how much I meant it."

End scene. And then I guess Dean and Cas just pop up in the background of the main plot here and there as they chase god through the multi-verse

#spn #destiel #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #not actually fanfic #this also feels like a variation on Godot ain't got nothin' on me and my baby #and the 'run away with me' speech at the end of Ignite Your Bones #what can i say i have a handful of ideas that i am wed to

[youchangedmedestiel]

I wrote this ficlet before even knowing/thinking about Dean's birthday. But I think it fits well, especially because it's called "My old man". So, there it is (also available on AO3):

Claire came to the bunker this morning telling she was working on a case not so far from Lawrence and needed help especially about lore. Plus it was the occasion to see everybody.

She spent the whole morning with Jack working on finding things about her case. Jack got involved really fast as soon as he thought it was a kind of zombies. They are not sure what it is exactly so far, but they are still digging into the books in the bunker’s library right now, sitting side by side, and Dean joined to give them a hand, sitting across the same table, since Sam is out on another hunt with Eileen.

Claire is starting to be bored with all this research and decides that annoying Dean would be funny which it usually is. She notices him squinting while looking down at the book in front of him and takes the opportunity.

“Do you need some glasses to read, old man?” She asks, winking at Jack who lifted his head once he heard her talk, then she looks back at Dean to see his reaction, because that’s the fun part. Dean is bewildered at first and Claire does anything to hold back her laugh.

“I – no – I’m not THAT old. I – I don’t need glasses.” He stutters, frowning at her.

“Yeah sure, like you don’t ask Cas to bring you coffee because your old man’s knees hurt.” She adds and then looks back down at her book after she sees how wide Dean’s mouth opened.

“Wh – no.” Dean starts, frowning even harder, and looks at Jack, probably searching for back up here but he just looks back at Dean questioningly.

“You should stop frowning though because it’ll just add more wrinkles to your already wrinkled face.” Claire shouts, holding back another laugh that threaten to go out. It’s so easy to tease Dean. She loves doing it, especially to see his reactions.

“She’s right, you have lots of wrinkles around your eyes.” Jack observes, his gaze focused on the corner of Dean’s eyes. And Claire starts chuckling but turns it into a cough. But Dean didn’t notice because he is too focused on what Jack said. He doesn’t know what to say anymore, he is familiar with Claire messing with him, but he is also aware of Jack’s usual honesty, which hurts him more. Because if Jack says he looks old, then it must be true.

“I – I –“ He stammers as he touches the corners of his eyes with his index on each side of his face, when Cas enters the library with two mug filled with coffee in his hands.

“Come on Jack, I need a break, show me your room.” Claire suggests, getting up already, because this is not a question. Dean frowns at her knowing she is fleeing from Cas but then he remembers about the wrinkles and soften his face even if he still feels annoyed. Claire and Jack disappear quickly in the hallway, when Cas approaches the table where Dean is sitting.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks, as he puts Dean’s mug on the table and sits beside him.

“Cas, I’m old.” Dean says, trying to flatten his wrinkles around his eyes.

“Yes, and?” Cas answers, tilting his head, because he can’t find what is the problem here.              

“Gee, Cas. Please, don’t lie.” Dean throws in an ironical ton, Cas knows how to recognize it now. He got to experience it more than once through the years they spend together.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice is serious but soft.

“Claire told me I have wrinkles around my eyes and Jack agreed.” Dean explains, trying to keep a straight face to avoid having more of those.

“You do –“ Cas observes smiling, and adds “I love them.”

“What? You – you love my wrinkles?” Dean asks, making a weird face because it’s hard to be surprised while still trying to keep a straight face.

“Of course I do. Especially the ones near your eyes, those are witnesses of your smile.” Cas says as he leans forward and cradles Dean’s face, his fingertips stroking the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“That still makes me an old man.” Dean states jokingly, not being able to control his face from smiling at Cas’s cheesy comment anymore. 

“But you are MY old man, Dean.” Cas answers, fondly looking at the hunter.

“Well, can you heal my knees and my eyes, please?” Dean asks, flustered, lowering his face because he can’t look at him. “Of course.” Cas leans even forward, grabs Dean’s chin with his hand to lift his face up and kisses Dean’s mouth. It’s tender and warm. The angel’s healing grace shines between their lips and Dean feels Cas’s grace invade his body, feeling warm behind his eyes and in both knees. He also perceives a strange sensation in his stomach and heart, but that has nothing to do with the healing. It still comes from Cas but totally for another reason.

#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #claire novak #ficlet #destiel ficlet #post canon fic #bunker fluff #destiel kiss #cas is back from the empty #dean is old #happy 45th birthday dean #happy birthday dean #claire is messing with dean #jack is just being honest #jack is not god #I don't know who is #but we don't care here #cas is cute #cas heals dean #cas loves dean #dean loves cas #established relationship #my destiel fanfic

[chucksfavouriteprophet]

Heaven is a Place on Earth

Dean Winchester x (gn) Reader

Request: Would you mind write a dean x guardian angel!Reader fic, I don't have any specific prompt but make it angsty pls thank you

Summary: After Cas is killed by Lucifer, a strange new Angel turns up claiming to have been sent by him. Dean doesn't like the sound of it, but maybe a Guardian Angel is what he's needed all along.

Warnings: Spoilers for season 13, angst

Word count: 3,097

Castiel was dead, and Dean was distraught. Burning his body on that pyre was the worst thing he'd had to do in a long time, maybe even the worst. At least when something bad happened to Sammy, Cas was always there to save the day. But now, he was gone, and the brothers were feeling the weakness of their humanity more than ever.

In the days after, Sam urged Dean to get out of the bunker and search for the Nephilim. If anyone could bring the Angel back, it was bound to be him at the end of the day. But Dean could barely think about that being, let alone face him. So when they pulled up at that crappy little diner, he couldn't even fathom going in, letting his brother do the work while he pounded the back door.

"Okay, Chuck... or God, or whatever. I need your help. See, you– you left us. You left us. You went off. You said...you said the earth would be fine because it had me... and Sam, but it's not, and we're not.

We've lost everything... and now you're gonna bring him back. Okay? You're gonna bring back Cas, you're gonna bring back Mom, you're gonna bring 'em all back. All of 'em. Even Crowley.

Cause after everything that you've done, you owe us, you son of a bitch. So you get your ass down here and you make this right, right here and right now."

Nothing. Not that Dean was surprised. He'd come to set his expectations lower than low at this point.

"He's not listening, Dean. I'm sorry."

Whipping his gun out, Dean spun round to the source of the voice. It was soft, gentle and kind, but he was still wary.

"The hell are you?" He demanded, shaking slightly at the sight of you. Illuminated by the sun, your skin practically glowing and your hair blew gracefully in the breeze.

"My name is Y/N. Castiel sent me."

"Cas? He's alive?"

You gulped at your mistake in sparking hope.

"No, no I'm sorry. What I meant was, he sent me before. I was to come if something happened to him."

"So you're an Angel?" Dean lowered the gun hesitantly, gingerly taking a step towards you.

"Yes. And I swore to Castiel that I would care for you where I could."

The hunter snorted and you winced at his harshness. "I don't need caring for. That's ridiculous. Cas was my friend, not my guardian angel or whatever."

You took a tentative step forward. "Please, Dean. I can help you. I've been keeping tabs on you and your brother for a long time now, and I can help you with the Nephilim."

"Can you bring him back? And my Mom? Crowley?"

"No, I'm sorry-"

"Then you're no help to me. Now get out of here before I smite you off this planet."

You watched him walk away, back to the Impala with tears in your eyes. You knew the Winchester boy was damaged, and you'd seen how him and Castiel interacted. There was a special kind of love there which he was grieving. That was a human emotion you knew you'd never be able to feel yourself, but you could understand it. Castiel had understood it too, which was why he'd sent you here to watch over Dean. He needed you, but it was just a matter of time before he realised that.

“Dean!” You scrambled after him, fist clenched. He pivoted on his heels, groaning and raising his eyebrows with eyes squeezed closed.

“Just-just let me come with you. To find the Nephilim. I can talk to him.”

Dean huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “You know about that?”

“Of course. And I know he’s scared. He’s part Angel, I’m an Angel - maybe he’ll talk to me.”

You had no clue if that was true or not, but it was worth a try. You’d promised Castiel you’d look out for Dean, but you also knew he had a close connection with Kelly Klein and he’d want you to watch over the boy too.

“Fine,” Dean motioned for you to follow him and you scrambled along to catch up. He made you nervous but you couldn’t quite pinpoint why yet.

The drive was tense and speechless. Dean played his music loud, and it was a sound that took a while for you to adjust to. But by the time you pulled up at the sheriffs office, you had relaxed into it, finding yourself bobbling along and humming the tune.

Naturally, Dean was hesitant around the Nephilim. But the child was scared, thrown into a new world he knew little about. While you felt the younger Winchester was adjusting just fine, you saw it as your mission to help build the relationship between Jack and Dean. That said, Jack wasn't the only one facing a whole new world. Having just arrived on Earth yourself, hunting was something you had to learn rapidly, and you were unsure about. Your whole existence was based on love and caring, on making sure the human race thrived. Now, with a blade thrust in your hand, you were being instructed to fight.

"Dean...I don't know if I can do this." You stopped him one evening as he was packing up to follow a new lead surrounding Lucifer's whereabouts. Jack and Sam were packing the car, and Dean was chucking the last few bits into a bag when he felt your hand tug on his flannel lightly.

"What do you mean Y/N? C'mon, we've gotta get moving," he dismissed you, shrugging you off. You gripped tighter and squeezed, making Dean pause. Of course, he was always conscious you were an Angel, but you rarely exerted your true strength around him. In fact, more than often he could convince himself you were just another human being. But now, held steadily in his place, he took a deep breath. Turning back to you, his heart broke as you bit your lip, desperately trying not to let a tell-tale tear slip down your cheek.

"I'm not him, Dean." You whispered with a gulp. "I'm not Castiel. I'm not a fighter. I wish I was, I really do; I'm a Guardian Angel for goodness sake, I'm supposed to be a protector. These past few weeks, I've tried so hard but...I'm sorry. I've let you both down. Castiel expected better from me..."

"No. Stop." You tilted your head up as Dean's rough fingers cupped your chin, his other hand on your shoulder reassuringly. "You've not let anyone down, Y/N. Cas, he knew I could hold my own. He didn't send you to fight for me. He didn't want to you be someone you're not."

"But how am I meant to protect you if I can't fight?"

Dean gave you a lopsided smile. "You don't have to fight to protect someone, ya know. I don't think Cas sent you to physically protect me from monsters. He knew I could do that myself. I think he sent you to protect me up here-" he tapped his temple lightly - "to protect me from myself."

You sniffled and frowned, unsure what he meant. "Y/N, sometimes I can get in my head a lot. Hell, after Cas...after Cas died, I did. But you, you've pulled me out. I know I wasn't the nicest to you when we first met, but honestly, you've saved me. So you don't have to fight, Y/N, not physically. But I need you here still, to fight for me, against me. You think you can do that?"

You nodded, letting him brush away your tears and smiled. "C'mon, lets load up. You don't have to do anything, but we're gonna need you for moral support. Oh, and those amazing psychic Angel powers too."

Things changed after that. You became the Winchester's confidant, and you supported them on each and every hunt with intel only you could gather. You felt Dean start to thrive again, and you took pride in knowing you were actually making a difference. Even Sam had stopped you one night to thank you for being around, for being the ray of sunlight his brother needed. Dean laughed more now, he relaxed on days off. He enjoyed teaching you human things, and laughed when you and Jack attempted something he thought so mundane but the two of you found incredibly mortal. You were part of their small, dysfunctional family now, and you couldn't imagine it any other way.

Sure, you were having a positive impact on Dean, but what he didn't know was that he was having the same on you. As you spent more time together, you were starting to feel actual emotions. Happiness, anger, upset, frustration, hurt, hate. All these things you'd never even believed in when you were in Heaven, and now they were flooding you. It was amazing. Everyone in the little group had the same impact on you, but with Dean, it was markedly different. There was another emotion, one that felt like another you shared with Sam and Jack, but more emphasised. With them, you wanted to keep them safe, you wanted to keep them happy, you wanted to care for them. They were your family now. But with Dean, it was all that and more. You wanted to hold onto him and never let go. You wanted him to stare at you with those gorgeous green eyes until they burned through your skull. You wanted to nestle into his flannels, coat yourself in his scent. This new emotion, this thing you couldn't name for so long, gnawed at you. It scared you, too, which was why you never spoke about it, never asked Sam what it was. You just stayed quiet, and hoped to figure it out with time.

Because, at the end of the day, you supposed you had all the time in the world. You hadn't even considered that might not be the case. That was, until you were sitting in the back of the Impala, returning from a ghost hunt. You'd already scolded Dean for his little 'momentary death' stunt, trying not to let him know that it had scared the shit out of you. Seeing him dead was something you never wanted to witness again, especially by his own hand. But then the phone rang.

"Yeah?...What..." Dean froze in the front seat, his hand hovering by his ear. Sam frowned at him and you pulled yourself forward, peering between the seats. Without warning, you were flung backwards as Dean stepped on the gas, driving full pelt into the darkness. He wouldn't say a word, no matter how much you and Sam pressed him. He was in shock, and it was clear he didn't want to say anything incase whatever he had just been told was a lie. You resisted going into his head, knowing no good would ever come out of that.

The first light you saw was that of a phone box, positioned on the left down a dampened alleyway. A figure stood outside it, facing away, shrouded in a long coat. You blinked to try get a clearer view of the figure as you drew closer, but Sam and Dean had leapt from the car before it had even stopped. You climbed out slowly behind them, a feeling of dread filling your vessel's bones. It was him. The being that had sent you here. The dead being that had sent you here.

"Cas, is that really you?" Dean's voice hitched in his throat as his best friend turned round.

"No. You're-you're dead," Sam couldn't believe his eyes. Neither could you. How could you not have known Castiel was alive? Surely something on the Angel radar must have gone off?

"Yeah, I was. But then I… annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back." You studied the Angel's face closely, questioning the truth.

Sam shook his head with disbelief. "I don't even know what to say."

"I do." Dean stepped forward, arms out. "Welcome home, pal." He gripped onto the Angel tight, embracing him in a way that made you flinch. Dean had never hugged anyone like that before. Not Sam, not Jack, not you.

As the three of them hugged, you found yourself tiptoeing back. Your breath was all caught up, not that you even needed to breathe, but all of a sudden you felt incredibly human. Vulnerable; that was a feeling only a human could feel. Because at that moment, you could name it. You could name that feeling that plagued you when you were around Dean, the one you couldn't name for so long. Now you knew was it was. And it wasn't a good one.

"Y/N?" As Cas finished hugging Sam, he looked over the brother's shoulders, having seen your figure lingering. He frowned at the silence.

"The hell they'd go? They were here a second?" Dean scratched his head in confusion and Sam shrugged. They were too happy to have Cas back to worry about anything else. Wherever you had gone, they were sure you'd turn up at some point.

In the end, it was them who caught up with you. You'd teleported straight back to the bunker to pack your things. You weren't needed now Cas was back, and you only hoped you could be gone before they got home.

Of course, you underestimated the speed Dean could get up to in that Impala.

"Y/N, you here?" You heard Dean holler as you stuffed your bag full. You tried to hurry, but the door flung open before you even had a chance. With a gasp, you pulled it against your chest, staring beady-eyed at the figure before it. It wasn't Dean; it was Castiel.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" He approached you slowly, not turning the light on. "I haven't had a chance to thank you."

"Th-thank me?"

"Yes. For protecting Dean. I understand it can be, well, quite a challenging job at times. But you did good, as I knew you would. So I need to thank you."

"Oh, er, that won't be necessary, sir. You're back now, which is good, which is amazing! So, erm, I should be off." You mumbled as you tried to move past him.

"You're leaving?" Dean's broken words stopped you in your tracks. He emerged from behind the wall, turning the corner into your room. His eyes were wide with confusion, his mouth open slightly. "Why?"

Tears started running down your face. "You don't need me anymore. Castiel is back. My job is done."

Dean pushed pass Cas, blocking your exit. "Your job? Is that all this was to you? A job?"

"No, Dean, I just-"

"Cause from where I've been standing, I thought you wanted to be here. I thought you were part of the family, Y/N. I thought you were in this for the long haul. I didn't realise this - I didn't realise I - was just another job to you." Oh he was angry. This was anger.

"I'm sorry, Dean...I just figured you wouldn't need me anymore." You couldn't even look at him, although you could feel Castiel's disappointment as he glared at you.

"Castiel is back now. You don't need me."

"Of course I need you, Y/N. Don't get me wrong, I am over the moon that Cas is back, he's my best friend. But you were never a replacement for him. It hasn't gotta be one or the other, has it?"

"I..." you honestly didn't know what to say. You took a peak at Castiel, who only looked sad, before taking the risk and gazing up at Dean. To your horror, he was crying now too. But why? Had you upset him? How?

"Y/N, you are not the Angel I knew when I trusted you with this task. You've changed, like I have changed. Humanity teaches us many lessons, and I can see you've learned a lot." Castiel's wise words echoed into your vessel's brain. "I know its hard, but if there is one thing being on this Earth, and dying on this Earth, has taught me, its to be honest. Say how you feel, Y/N. Name it."

As you sobbed, you looked at him and he responded with a soft smile and nod, before sliding out the door back towards the kitchen. You whimpered as you caught Dean's eye, his face a contortion of confusion.

"Love," you breathed. "It's love I feel. I didn't know what it was, not for a long time. But now I know. I love you, Dean."

Dean's jawed dropped, and for a moment it felt like the universe froze. But then he took a step forward, and his hand took yours. "You do?"

You nodded, tears streaming. "I realised thats what it was when Castiel came back. But I figured you couldn't love me, not when I was just a placeholder for him. Thats why I had to leave."

With a sigh, Dean reached up and wrapped him arms round you, drawing you in close. He rested his chin on your head as you nestled your face into his flannel, just as you had dreamed.

"I love you too, Y/N." You wouldn't have believed your ears had you been human, but with your Angel hearing there was no mistaking it. He planted a kiss on your head before you pulled away, gazing up at him.

"You do? But...how?"

He chuckled. "All too easy. After Cas died, I could've gone down a very dark path. The only reason I didn't was because of you. Y/N, you pulled me back, you got me on the straight and narrow. You were never a replacement for him, you are something entirely different. You were exactly what I needed. Hell, I still need you. I've just got my best friend back. Don't make me lose the one I love now."

You nodded greedily, knowing now it all made sense. Castiel hadn't chosen you because you were a fighter, or because you were a peacemaker. There were plenty of other Angels he could have chosen if that was the case. No, he chose you because he knew the type of person Dean actually needed deep down, and he saw that in you.

"C'mon, Sammy's making enchiladas. I wanna eat some, and I wanna watch you and Cas watch us eating them. Lets go." He scooped an arm round your neck as he guided you down the hall, grins across both your faces.

Heaven could wait - this was your home now.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x yn #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x guardian angel #dean winchester x angel reader #spn #sam and dean #sam winchester #spn x reader #dean winchester x y/n #spn fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #dean fanfic #supernatural dean #dean x reader #dean x yn #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #dean winchester oneshot #spn oneshot

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes And Romance 🥰🐞 - Part 14

Dean x Fem/Reader

Part 14🥰🐞

A/N: This might be triggering for people suffering from PTSD!💓 Side Note: thank you all so much for the support. Much love, my bugsies 🥰🐞

Warnings: hospital scenes, trigger warnings, sadness, violence, swearing, PTSD triggers, suicidal tendencies, drug use,🥹

......

The tear stained note, was short, when Cas read it, "Sorry Mom, I need some space, will call I promise, Love you" , shaking his head in disbelief.

In a soft low voice, Cas told Dean he could enter the house.

The broken ceramic pieces still scattered all over the open plan kitchen, Dean searching for her, the look in his eyes took Cas by surprise, it was filled with hurt, fear, sadness and guilt. He just handed Dean the note, he expected his best friend to have one if his outbursts of anger, but instead, all Dean did was crumble up the note, looked at him with bloodshot eyes, saying, I've lost her again Cas, his voice was low, barely audible but shaking.

Of course he tried explaining to best of his knowledge, that she didn't really mean to say all those things, it was merely because she was suffering from depression and the trauma but of course his friend didn't really believe a single word he spoke.

Eversince that day, he would check on Dean occasionally, finding out how he has been doing, he'll always get the same answer, just fine, never been better.

One night about 2 months since she left, he went by Dean's house, he just had a feeling he should check on him, walking up to the door, he could see the image of the once strong man, sitting at the table, bottle of whiskey, nearly finished, what looked like photos scattered out in front of him, the chain with the diamond ring in his one hand, but what really scared him was the gun in Dean's right hand, he didn't knock, he just barched in, making Dean look up from where he sat.

Not a single word was uttered at that moment, He just took the weapon out of Dean's grip, tossed it to the side away from them, begging him to talk to him. The only words that ran over his whiskey lips, was that he was tired, he misses her, and he tried searching for her, but she withdrew all her money at a gas station two towns over, and well as for her phone, she threw it in the closest trash can, she only called back home about three times from a damn payphone, Caroline said when they spoke her words seemed few and sort of slurred. I reviewed the cameras man, you should've seen her, his eyes filled with sadness, the body he came to know like the back of his hand was now only skin and bones, she seemed high Cas! Like she's using, she's doing drugs because of me.

Dean stood up, running his hands over his face. I did this Cas. If only I caught the bastard sooner. That night was the breaking point for Dean, and if he didn't show up, Sam would've lost a brother and their parents a son.

He explained to Dean that what very few people knew, is that its not just the trauma victim, but their loved ones that also get affected by it. He didn't leave his sight that night, promising Dean that he is there for him every step of the way and that they will get through this.

Its been almost a year now, and Dean has gotten better, he has healthier coping mechanisms for the dark days, and when those doesn't seem to work like it should, he throws himself into work, and taking care of Bobby, making sure he gets to physical therapy. Of course every know and then he sees Dean subconsciously play with the chain around his neck, still keeping his eyes and ears open for a clue of where she might be, hoping she'll just show up one day, and say she's sorry, and he knows for a fact Dean will take her back in a heartbeat. He knows that it isn't either of their faults that this messed them up so badly but, it still breaks his heart that all of this happened to two of the most generous, loving people he knows.

...

Its been three months since she left, the images replaying over and over. What am I even searching for, what was even the real reason why I left, fumbling in her handbag for some of the painkillers she bought by some sketchy looking dude at the corner, the only way of making the images of every damn thing disappear is by getting high, is it wrong? Hell yeah I know it is wrong. But really do I even care anymore.

More coffee comes a deep voice, looking up you can tell the man had gone through hardships in life but the smile on his face met his eyes. Yeah, thanks you said, your voice doesn't sound the same anymore, its gotten slower and well it sounded like you had given up on life. He just nodded and refilled your cup. Something to eat, the voice came out a little sweeter than before.

No thanks, you didn't really felt like eating, everything made you nauseous. How did I get to this point, a junkie who can't wait for her next fix, who's living out of her car, driving from one town to the next. Maybe it was a wrong decision to drive off that day, thinking back to the first time you felt high, you were about to towns over, tired off driving and crying, and in all honesty the pain in your leg was driving you crazy, busy searching through your bag, seeing the antidepressants and opioids the doctor and your psychologist gave you, with clear instructions on how to take them, you just took some, washing it down with an energy drink you bought at the fill up station. And that combination felt amazing.

For the first time the images in your mind weren't so scary, and you felt good, real good. Early morning came and the effects wore off, you made a promise to yourself that you won't do again. After you freshened up you might've took some more, for the pain of course, just saying that to make yourself feel better, that day was also the last time you spoke to your mom, just stating your okay and she shouldn't worry and you loved her. You could tell she was concerned and crying on the end of the line. But there was nothing you could say to make her feel better. If there was you would've tried it yourself. You just hang up the payphone, throwing your cellphone in a trashcan close by, you knew Dean had the resources to trace your phone, and you weren't ready to be found.

Over these past few weeks the using got more, wanting to feel the effects for longer, you started popping pills more than once a day, and before you knew it, the pill bottles were empty, and it ain't exactly over the counter drugs, so you drove around searching for someone who sold them, at first you were scared but know your just desperate. Taking any pills you can get that will do the trick.

The guy who sold this last batch to you, told you to take one, and it will make you feel good, and at first you did, but that didn't just quite cut it, so you took another two, swallowing it down with your black coffee.

After a while you started to feel Nauseous, walking as fast as you can to the bathroom, not really seeing how the man from the diner that refilled your coffee were watching you, after closing the door behind you, you could tell something wasn't right, everything started to look it was swimming before your eyes, you felt like you were burning up, sweat coming from your forehead, your legs felt weak and just gave in underneath you, you felt your head hitting against the basin and then the floor, your body started to shake violently and then it all went dark...

#spotify #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #benny lafitte #castiel spn #dean winchester imagine #eileen leahy

[bobwess]

May I offer you another fanfic?

[In this trying time? One-shot. Finale fix-it. SPN. Deancas.] (D'yer Ma'ker also on Ao3)

(It got a polishing before it went on ao3: this is copied from my fanfiction net account so there may be slight editing errors or repetition.)

Sam had been walking past Dean's room when he heard the phone ring. He considered letting it go to voicemail, but Dean wouldn't be back from a breakfast run for another half hour, and if they knew Dean's number, someone could really be hurt.

The younger hunter froze when he heard the voice on the other end. "Cas?"

"Sam…"

"How-?"

"Jack brought me back." There was a pause that sounded like Cas was struggling to describe whatever just happened. "I still don't… I'm a bit more than an hour away. I wanted to let you know-"

"No, Cas." Sam said firmly, feeling a wave of concern. "Don't… not uh… not here."

The angel on the other line went notably quiet.

Sam closed his eyes. "I mean… let me come out and meet you. Where are you exactly?"

"Fairbury."

"Nebraska?"

"Yes."

"I'll come to you. Open the phone book and meet me at the first motel on the list."

Cas paused again, but finally he let out his breath. "Alright."

.

Sam pulled up outside a bland motel with a sign that looked like it hadn't been touched since the fifties. He clocked the familiar tan coat right away, and he picked up the pace. He grabbed a bag from the back of the car and took a deep breath to ground himself. It didn't help.

Sam only began to relax half way through testing him. Silver, holy water, borax. He kept at it until he was running down every test he'd ever heard of, including several he'd only recently read about in Men of Letters texts.

Cas was quiet during each step, obeying each request with an expression that reflected understanding for the scrutiny.

Sam looked at him warily. "Your grace…"

Cas nodded, pulling enough grace that his eyes reflected a soft blue instead of the glowing red Sam was worried about.

The younger hunter let out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Sorry, man."

"How long has it been?" Cas brushed it off.

"Almost two and a half months." He sat down on the chair opposite him. "We didn't think you were coming back." Sam frowned. "At first we thought maybe Jack would bring you back, but he didn't answer our prayers and… well, we sort of thought that was it."

"It took him some time to figure out how to get in there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, okay."

Cas considered his next question for a moment, not sure what answer he wanted to hear. "Dean didn't want to-"

"I didn't tell him." Sam cut in. "I left a note saying I was going out for a bit."

Cas gave a short nod. "You didn't want to tell him before you knew it was me."

"He just barely has started to come to terms with it." Sam admitted softly. "I couldn't undo that if…"

"If I wasn't me."

Sam nodded.

Cas bowed his head. "I have to talk to him."

"Yeah." Sam said softly. "Let me break the news to him first."

Cas studied him for a moment. "Alright."

.

It was after midnight by the time they reached Lebanon.

Cas looked up at the decaying factory looming overhead as Sam pulled to a stop in front of their recessed entrance. He felt something in him stir before he swiftly clamped down on it, trying to focus on the facts.

He was home.

His resolve immediately wavered. Was he home? He left Dean with his last confession… the chances they could go back to the way things were felt slim. He didn't think Dean would ask him to leave; Dean would feel too guilty. It would be up to him to determine if it was uncomfortable enough he should go anyway.

Cas shoved it down again. No use speculating. It was time to just see what happened. He followed Sam down the cement steps and through the heavy metal door. He closed his eyes, feeling the sound reverberate through the map room and library, the sound so familiar it almost hurt. He hadn't realized how much he ached for this. To be here again. To come back.

He must've hesitated just too long, and Sam caught on. "He's not here."

Cas looked at him.

"He's, in his words, bar hopping and looking for chicks."

"Oh."

Sam rolled his eyes. "He has the impala parked about a mile into the woods." He started down the stairs ahead of Cas. " It's, what, 2am? If he hasn't drank himself unconscious by now, he will shortly."

"He-"

"Every night for a month now."

Cas shut his mouth, taking in that new information. He felt a small shudder down his spine as he tried to sort it through. "I see." He settled at last.

"Come on. Make yourself at home." Sam threw him a sheepish glance. "I am going to head to sleep if that's alright. It's been a long night, and I'd like to be back from my run in time to talk to Dean."

"Of course." Cas said easily.

"Alright." Sam stopped, giving Cas one last long look. "I'm glad you're back." He said. "Good night."

After Sam left, Cas stood for a moment, completely unsure of where to go or what to do. It felt almost made up, as if this was perhaps just another torture, another illusion dreamed up by the empty. But he knew it wasn't. The empty could only show him sins of his past, and this definitely didn't happen before.

He stopped in the library, eyes finding the table almost immediately. He took a step forward, following the new additions to Sam and Dean's name carved into the wood. He felt his chest clench, and for a moment he was horrified with the strength of the emotions that came from seeing it.

It felt like something, something he couldn't put a word to.

He decided to leave it for a time he was better equipped to deal with that.

It was by instinct that he found his way to the room Dean had dubbed his. He had initially thought it was silly, Dean giving a room to him when he was an angel. Deep down he knew Dean was compensating for throwing him out when he was newly human. He had forgiven Dean for that a long time ago, but he knew that would not slow Dean's insistence on torturing himself. Thus, he accepted the room without argument.

Inside was still mostly bare. There was a thin layer of dust that confirmed no one had been inside in weeks, but still it was clear that someone had been in at some point after he had died.

The bed was pristinely made; In fact the whole room was neater than he left it.

Hung carefully over the chair was a green jacket with a rusted bloody handprint on the shoulder. On the desk was a straw hat, and a mixtape with a hand written label. Tucked underneath was a photograph Dean had forced Sam to take.

"Texas Rangers." Dean had said, clearly beyond pleased that they had been mistaken for such. "Come on, Cas. Give us your best blue steel." He hadn't known what Dean meant, but he did his best to mimic his expression, and it must have done alright because Dean seemed pleased with the result.

Cas recognized that this was the type of memorial that Dean might put together in lieu of a headstone. He ran his hand over the sleeve of the jacket, vaguely remembering grabbing Dean's shoulder and pushing him from danger. He hadn't noticed the mark he was leaving behind.

His expression settled into a sad smile. The irony of his first and last contact mimicking so closely was not lost on him. The symmetry was almost poetic, though he supposed it was somewhat spoiled by his return. He knew Dean wouldn't think of it that way.

He retreated once more, deciding to walk the halls and reacquaint himself with this place he hoped he might still call home.

.

Dean sprang awake, jumping upright so fast he caught his side on the steering wheel, causing a sharp bite of pain to shudder up his ribs. He hissed before taking a minute to try to slow his breathing to a more reasonable pace. He scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to blur the memory of the dream.

He took a final shaky breath before straightening up on the bench. He looked around, trying to find a landmark, something to focus him. The steel walls of the car felt like they were getting closer, crushing in on him.

Dean decided to take advantage of the adrenaline rush to find his way back home. He wasn't sober, but was guilty to admit head driven in worse shape before.

When he saw Sam's car outside he pulled around into the garage. Walking inside, he considered briefly going to his room and trying to get a few more hours of restless sleep, but decided against it. He was still too wound up from his rough awakening. He instead turned and headed towards the kitchen on auto-pilot.

The gentle hum of the industrial fridge somehow felt oppressive. He considered not for the first time that he should really invest in a pair of headphones that could play nice with his phone. Sure, they wouldn't be as good as the ones for his laptop, but honestly the silence was killing him.

During the day he could fill his time. Talking with Sam, occasionally taking a case. But there were too many moments with too much room for thinking. That wasn't good for him. Or at least not when he was in a mood like this.

It took a moment to realize he was staring into the fridge, the cold seeping out sending a shiver up his spine. He vaguely looked down, noticing for the first time that he had left without a jacket; No wonder he had felt cold in the impala. October was bringing the first whispers of cold.

Right. Still staring into the fridge. Moving on auto-pilot Dean began piling things on the counter. He turned on the stove, staring at the flame for a second before he remembered to grab a pan and put it down to heat up.

He felt like he was swimming. Like his body was moving on its own. He was just a passenger, drifting with the tide.

And apparently making breakfast.

He set a carton of eggs on the counter.

Normally he wouldn't be doing this until a more reasonable hour of morning. Though, he reasoned, normally he wouldn't have stumbled back in until almost seven. He usually timed it to try and get back while Sam was out on his morning run.

Maybe this was better. If he hurried, maybe he could eat and be done before Sam ever woke up. Catch a few more hours of… well, probably not sleep, but he could lay down on his bed with his headphones on and block out the world for a bit. Then he could emerge and they'd start their day. Maybe he'd look for a case. Maybe he'd try to find something else to do. Maybe Sam would be up to a day outside the bunker.

No, he remembered. Sam had plans to go to Eileen's for a few days. Fine. Case it is.

Dean had been taking more cases on his own. With Sam backing up Eileen, he didn't feel he had a choice. Sometimes he told Sam before he left, other times he'd call with an update from the road. Sometimes he'd never tell him at all. He was aware it probably wasn't the best practice, but he really couldn't stop himself.

He looked at the pan, and then at the stove, frowning as he realized the pan was way too hot. He sighed, turning down the heat, resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to wait for it to cool again before he could add the eggs. Waiting again. Yeah, maybe I'll buy some headphones tomorrow.

.

Cas was so far lost inside his thoughts he was surprised to have completely missed hearing the obvious signs that Dean had returned. He was entirely unprepared to turn the corner of the kitchen and find himself within feet of the hunter.

Dean's back was turned to him, and he froze, with no idea what to do.

"What the hell are you doing up so early?" Dean asked, assuming the figure behind him was his brother. "Nevermind. You want eggs?"

Cas opened his mouth but he had no idea what to say.

"Just gonna stand there and-" Dean turned, green eyes meeting blue, and a deafening shock split through him, as a fresh wave of adrenaline took hold again. He moved back, bumping the stove, hissing as his arm swung back and into the searing hot pan.

"Dean-" Cas said, acting on instinct and reaching out a gentle hand. He had just grazed Dean's arm with the intention of healing him when Dean wrenched out of Cas' touch, quickly rounding the kitchen counter, keeping it between them.

Dean reached back for a gun, coming up empty, and cursing his stupidity for ever leaving the bunker unarmed. He acted on instinct, grabbing a knife from the butcher's block and holding it at the ready. "You're not here." He accused, so quietly Cas wouldn't have picked it up without his angelic hearing..

"Jack brough-"

"No." Dean cut him off. His voice betrayed a bone deep exhaustion, but it was firm. "Jack brought everyone back months ago. Not you."

"It took him time."

"Bullshit."

Sam had been readying to head out on his morning jog a bit early when he heard the voices. "Shit." He had been hoping he'd have more time before Dean was home… he needed to break the news himself. Too late now. He hurried his step, walking in just as Dean tightened his hand on the knife, gauging whether or not to use it.

The air felt fragile, and he took care to walk into the room slowly. "Dean, put down the knife."

Dean didn't move, keeping his gaze directly at Cas.

Sam put his hands up slightly, trying to diffuse some of the tension. "It's him. I've run him through every test we know how to do."

"No, Sam. It's just Lucifer." Dean closed his eyes. "It's just a dream."

Sam's face scrunched. "No Dean, it's not."

"It always is." Dean waited. Every night he has the nightmare. He gets the call and goes running. He's on a case and he sees him. A hundred variations on getting Cas back, and it's always Lucifer.

"Not this time." Sam shook his head. "It's him."

No one moved, the blanket of silence punctuated only by the gas flame of the stove and the old fridge.

Both Cas and Sam flinched when Dean threw the knife onto the metal table, the sound feeling as loud as a gunshot after the extended quiet. "No." He repeated firmly. "It's not." Ignoring Sam's repeated pleas to stay, Dean turned on heel and left.

Sam watched him go, debating on whether or not to follow him, but he didn't really think it would help any. Dean needed to calm down, and maybe sober up before it would do any good to try to explain. Feeling suddenly exhausted, he made sure to switch off the stove before sinking down at the table.

"He's just…" Sam struggled to find a way to word it. "He's covering for how freaked he is."

Cas stared at the door, feeling an almost unbearable wave of disappointment. He blinked a few times, watching Sam sit and deciding to sit across from him.

"Dean has been pretty messed up." Sam looked over at him. "A couple of days after you…after you two faced Death, Lucifer got into the bunker. He called Dean's phone using your voice, asking to be let inside."

Cas closed his eyes. "Jack neglected to mention that in his summary of events."

"I think it's going to take a bit of time to really believe it's you." He sighed, taking a moment. "Cas, whatever happened down there. He couldn't get past it."

"Did he-"

"No, he never talked about it." Sam confirmed, guessing where the question was going. "And it's not my business, but Dean's barely had a handle on it." He shook his head. "He's covering now… and that's good. It's progress. Right after… well. I was worried about him." He gave a short humorless laugh. "Who am I kidding, I'm still worried about him. He's grinding. Case after case, without me most times."

"Alone?"

Sam nodded. "And when he's here… He calls your name sometimes, when he's dreaming. He won't talk about them but…" He sighed. "We didn't think you were coming back. After the phone call. After Jack brought everyone back but you. We really didn't think you were coming back."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to tell me that."

"I'll tell him too."

.

Dean didn't allow himself to process a single thought between the kitchen and the exit. It was only after the bunker's main door clang shut behind him that he realized he had no idea where he was going.

With the impala in the garage, he didn't have a real course of action. He could hot-wire Sam's car, but he didn't really know where to go. He stumbled slightly, balancing himself against the cool concrete for a second. Still drunk. Also a reason not to steal Sam's ride.

He shivered slightly, realizing he had still failed to grab his coat. Oh well. It's not like you can do anything now.

Nothing made sense.

It was Lucifer. It was always Lucifer. That never changed. He never got away before it happened. He had never made it outside, to be greeted with the painful lack of wildlife sounds, to feel the uncomfortable cold against his bare arms.

It was always Lucifer.

But this time it wasn't.

Deep down he felt something give. This time it wasn't. It happened too differently. It felt too real. He ran his fingers over his arm. His blistered skin barely registered over the sheer panic he felt coursing through his body. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears.

Jack brought him back. It took him time.

No. He thought. It isn't true.

But it was.

Cas was back.

Static filled his head, that looping thought the only one that stuck.

Cas was back.

Cas was back.

He didn't know what to do with that. He couldn't do anything with that. It couldn't be. Impossible. Never going to happen.

It's real.

.

Sam decided to forgo his morning run, wanting to be there to run interference whenever Dean finally decided to come back inside. Once changed, he settled into the library to listen for his brother's return. It didn't come.

So he read. And read. Occasionally he'd glance up at the entrance, waiting as if staring at the door would will it to open. But it didn't.

At half past two, Sam glanced at his watch, frowning, feeling a small twinge of concern, followed quickly by a swiftly settling dread. His car. He acknowledged for the first time there was a high possibility his brother wasn't there at all.

Sam pulled himself to his feet, trying to force himself to be casual, setting aside the book and stretching. He fought to keep his pace slow and steady as he traced Dean's path out of the bunker, stepping into the chilled mid-afternoon air. He blinked a few times, the sun somewhat blinding. He looked around, squinting against the light reflected back against the lingering dampness from the morning frost, making the ground almost glitter. His gaze finally found his brother.

Dean had clearly broken into his car, but he hadn't gone anywhere. Instead both rear doors were wide open, and Dean was laid across the bench seat on his back. His legs were crossed, feet hanging out the other side, and his head rested in the door frame closest to him. He was staring up at the car roof. "Dude… you're letting bugs in." Sam muttered before he could help himself.

"Too cold. Not many bugs." Dean said absently, shifting slightly to try and wrap his arms a little closer to his chest.

Sam sighed, walking up and leaning against the closed driver door. He resigned himself to quietly waiting for Dean to say something.

"You're sure it's him?"

"Completely."

Dean closed his eyes, a hand coming up to push back his hair and rest on his head. He took a slightly unsteady breath, letting it out slow. He didn't open his eyes. "How?"

Sam scuffed the dirt with his shoe, resting his heel against a small rock. "He says Jack got him out. That it took him a long time to figure out how to get in."

"Mmh." Dean took another slow breath, trying to pull his head back from the weird detached static that had yet to fade. Sam repeating Cas' earlier words didn't make it feel any more real.

"I really did everything. It's really him."

"I know." Dean heaved himself upright, swinging his legs around to face Sam, sitting on the edge of the seat. He had finally come to terms with it. "Don't know what to do about that."

"You could try talking to him."

"Yeah." But Dean's tone made it seem unlikely he would seek out doing so.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

Sam pushed himself off the side of the car. "Alright. Well. Close the doors when you head back in."

"Mmhmm." Dean frowned. "Thanks. For checking him."

"Yeah."

Dean let his thoughts wander again as he listened to the door to the bunker swing shut again.

.

His hope of avoiding Cas for the time being evaporated the second he pushed open the door to his room.

There, standing in the middle of the room, was Cas. Looking exactly the same as the day he left.

"Dean." He sounded a little unsure, clearly second guessing his decision to meet Dean there.

"Cas." He was unable to put any tone into the word, body completely still, standing in the doorway.

"I thought we should talk."

"You thought wrong." Dean forced himself to move despite his brain screaming at him to not. He walked over to his desk, sitting down at the desk and hoping Cas took the hint. He opened his laptop, pulling up the article he was reading before and tried to be convincing that he was reading it.

Cas didn't leave. "Dean-"

"I said you thought wrong." Dean repeated, firmer this time, and with an edge.

Cas hesitated, staring at the back of his head. "I'm sorry."

The hunter stood so suddenly Cas almost jumped. "I had nothing, you asshole. The empty came and took you, and I didn't even have a body to burn." He clenched his fist. "All I had was my coat with your god damn hand print on it. And I-" he broke off.

"Dean…" Cas said softly, reaching out.

Dean flinched, dodging his touch. He took a moment to breathe, trying to hold on, trying to keep that barrier up, to deflect, dodge, run. He could do none of it.

Dean's shoulders slumped, and he instantly felt so defeated. He couldn't look at Cas when he spoke again, instead keeping his eyes intently on the floor. "It didn't feel real… I… every other time, when we didn't have a body, you… you always came back. When Lucifer… the second time he… I. After Jack was born. When we burned you, it felt real. This time… I don't know, I let myself hope." He shifted his gaze to the wall. "It was worse. The hope. When it finally faded."

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck you."

Cas closed his eyes.

The fire returned. "Fuck you, and your sorry. Fuck you for every single time you died." He resumed pacing. "Fuck you for every time you left. Fuck you for every time you lied to my face." He rounded on the angel. "Fuck you for dumping that on me and then just letting it take you."

"I never meant-"

"Go to hell." Dean spat.

Cas gave a small sad smile, attempting to breathe some scrap of humor into the situation. "Again?"

Dean wasn't phased, and his cold glare never wavered. "You kept it from me."

"Which part?"

The hunter reacted violently, swiping across his desk and dumping everything to the floor, bottles and lamp breaking on impact. "Everything." He kicked the last intact beer bottle into the wall with enough force that it too shattered. "You knew about your deal for over a year." He came to a stop in the middle of the room. "I forgave the kid, whatever. Jack was just doing whatever you said to do."

"I didn't think-"

"Yeah, you never do."

"I didn't think it would ever come to claim me." Cas finished.

Dean stared at him, expression set.

"True happiness should be inaccessible to an angel." He said softly, trying to make Dean understand. "I could feel it… but I knew… I thought I knew that it would never be enough to claim me when you couldn't-"

"When I couldn't what, Cas?"

"You know what." Cas' quiet words were such a contrast to the harshness in Dean's tone.

"And what about me? Hmm? You were so busy thinking about yourself you didn't think once about me."

Cas looked startled by the accusation. "Dean… of course I thought about you… that's why-"

"That's why you kept it from me."

"You couldn't do anything to get me out of that deal. I wouldn't have let you risk Jack's life like that."

"Not the deal." Dean hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh." Cas said softly, realizing he meant what he had confessed. He was quiet for a moment. "I never intended to tell you. I am sorry that I had to in such a way."

"You didn't think I deserved to know; Didn't think I deserved to figure out what to do with that?"

"There was nothing you had to do." Cas said softly.

"I deserved to make the choice."

"Dean-"

"I killed myself. Did you know that?"

Cas' eyes widened with confused concern. "What?"

"The last time you died, after Jack was born." His flat tone didn't soften. "I killed myself on a case, and I asked Billie to keep me dead."

The angel was silent, looking at Dean with an unreadable expression.

"So don't tell me how the fuck I feel."

Cas opened his mouth, but he wasn't sure what to say. The room closed in on them, the silence almost smothering.

"Whatever. I need some damn air." Dean said quickly, turning and starting towards the door again, this time planning on heading towards the garage. He needed to put some distance between himself and the bunker. A few states ought to do it.

"Dean…" Cas put his hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean whipped around, fist flying and hitting Cas square in the jaw. Cas hardly flinched and Dean had to suppress a reaction to the shooting pain in his knuckles. "You left." He repeated, raising his hands and roughly shoving Cas.

The angel stepped back, eyeing him carefully, guilt washing over him again as he watched Dean come undone.

The hunter couldn't help the warmth growing in his face, the moisture he could feel collect at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I'm sorry." Cas said again quietly.

The tears fell. "I love you."

Cas' brows furrowed. "You-"

He was cut off as Dean stepped forward, roughly grabbing him and dragging him into a desperate embrace. The kind that always followed when Cas came back from the dead. But this time didn't end in an awkward pat on the back and a hasty retreat. This time the hunter hung on for dear life, as if worried Cas would disappear the moment he let go.

Tentatively Cas raised his arms, wrapping them around Dean's back. He let the side of his face lean against Dean's head, his mind settling into a dizzying static as he failed to process what was happening.

"You were gone so fast." Dean whispered, not pulling away. "I didn't get to say it." He tightened his grip. "I never knew you-" his voice broke. "I didn't think you-"

"I have loved you for a very long time."

"You're an asshole." Dean breathed, feeling another hot flash of anger jolt through him, but he couldn't step back.

Cas pulled his hand up and cupped it at the base of Dean's head. He gave themselves just enough space for Dean to look up at him before he pressed their lips together. He tensed slightly, waiting for Dean to realize, to pull away, to take it back at any second. He greedily tried to memorize every detail. The curve of his mouth, the hot flush across his cheeks, the taste of the salt from his tears.

Dean broke the kiss, but instead of moving away, he just put his head down to lean on the angel's shoulder. "I love you, Cas." he repeated, his voice barely audible.

"I didn't know."

It was Dean's turn. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

Dean pulled back from the hug, but kept Cas' coat balled tightly in his hands, preventing him from moving. "I can't-" He choked. "If you leave again… if you die, I won't survive it."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Dean swayed slightly, feeling light headed as the last scrap of adrenaline fizzled out. "I need some air." He breathed, repeating his earlier sentiment.

Cas gently untangled Dean's fingers from his coat. He kept his hand on Dean's arm, starting to lead him towards the bunker door. Wordlessly they navigated the hallways and map room before finally climbing the stairs and opening the heavy metal door at the top yet again.

Dean didn't visibly react until the crisp evening air finally hit his skin, causing an involuntary shudder. He took a moment to appreciate standing in front of the bunker twice to get his head on straight. He took a few steps away from Cas, turning and slowly leaning back against Sam's car. "Fuck."

Cas stayed standing, a few feet in front of him, careful to give him a little space.

Dean raised a shaky hand and deliberately ran it under both eyes, efficiently wiping away the last tears from his face. He took a deep breath, watching his breath glinting in the last weak rays of sunlight. "I didn't think you were coming back. I thought this was it, man."

"I did not think I would either."

"If this isn't real-"

"It is." Cas cut in, desperate to end that line of thinking. "I am." He debated with himself for a second before walking to lean on the car next to him, abandoning his earlier concerns about crowding Dean. He was reassured when Dean immediately rearranged himself to lean against his shoulder. "I'm really here."

"Yeah." Dean breathed. "It's just gonna take me a minute."

"Take all the time you need." Cas shifted and put his arm around Dean, pulling the hunter a little closer to him.

Dean closed his eyes, breathing him in. "Do you think we can really have this?"

"If you will allow me to give it, you can have every part of me. Anything you ask of me, if it is in my power, I will not hesitate."

"Okay, no need to write a damn poem." Dean replied, rolling his eyes, but it had the desired effect. A small smile danced on his lips, and the tension had bled away from his shoulders.

"I meant what I said, Dean. Before I summoned the Empty."

"I heard you."

"I love you."

"I love you too." Dean was surprised by how natural that felt to say already. He closed his eyes again, feeling a spike of adrenaline as his mind latched onto the possibility that this actually was a dream, soon to be a particularly cruel nightmare, and this would all be ripped from him.

Cas noticed the shift, but decided it wouldn't help to just repeat himself. He changed tactics, aiming to distract. "You added our names to the table."

Dean looked up, surprised by the leap in conversation. "Yeah."

"It is a touching gesture."

"I thought you'd appreciate the irony. Using your full name." Dean said with a weak but genuine smile. "Sam said the ending, -iel or whatever means 'Of God'. Jack's God now. Thought you would want the title back."

Cas' expression was warm. "I do appreciate it."

"Sorry I shortened your name so early."

"It turned out to be somewhat prophetic." Cas said. "And besides, in your words…" He looked up, as if he were searching his memory for the exact quote. "Chuck is kind of a dick."

Dean barked out a sharp laugh, feeling the last shred of tension unclench in his stomach and he leaned back fully against the car. "Yeah, you got that right." He shuddered slightly.

Cas slipped out of his tan coat, handing it out towards Dean. "You are cold." He said simply, acknowledging that Dean had begun to shiver in the rapidly cooling temperatures.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he accepted the offering. He considered making a jab at him about sappy romances but he felt too genuinely touched by the gesture that he held back. He cleared his throat. "You saw Jack?" He waited for a nod. "He's good?"

Cas nodded. "He is well." He looked up towards the horizon, as if he could catch a glimpse of their surrogate son. "He is doing good out there. Fixing the mess Chuck made of heaven and earth."

"Good." Dean said softly. He frowned. "I miss him sometimes."

"He will be back."

Dean looked over at him.

"When he finishes, he'll be back. For a little while at least."

"Good."

"He told me to tell you he said hello."

Dean snorted. "Right." He made a big show of looking up at the sky. "Hello." He replied. "Give us a warning before you pop in, I'll throw some burgers on."

Cas laughed quietly. "I'm sure he'll like that."

Dean settled back again, taking a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed Cas' hand. He used it as an anchor, preventing him from drifting back into fear. "Tell me more."

"About-?"

"Anything." Dean admitted. I just want to hear you talk. I just need to hear you talk.

Cas caught the meaning. "Alright." He began. "Pick a century."

"What?"

"I will tell you all that I remember."

Dean tightened his grip on Cas' hand. "1800s. The wild west."

"I expected you would request that."

"Yeah yeah. Now spill."

As Cas launched into his story, Dean simply laid his head back on his shoulder, listening to the smooth cadence of his voice, and letting the feeling of the coat around his shoulder and the angel at his side warm him from inside to out.

He could get used to it. He would get used to it. He could have this. They could have this.

Dean tried to keep track of what Cas was saying, but really he was just relieved and surprised he was there at all. That this was happening.

Cas was back.

It was real.

#ao3 is down #I'm Bob Wess on fanfiction . net if y'all desperate

[mlobsters]

supernatural s8e16 remember the titans (w. daniel loflin)

hint of leg, gasp

i've seen this painting before

why does this wackadoodle war room thing have a sink in it? other than give the ability to have dean walk in on sam hiding being sick

appreciate all the angles so we can set the extent of the set. she's fancy

DEAN So, no word from Cas, Kevin's taking his sweet little time, and you're acting cagey. We need a lead before I start climbing these walls.

scraping at the bottom of my brainpan to remember when we last saw cas and if we're reconciled or still mad

you're lookin extra pretty today, padalecki. i like the shorter side bang action

bird ate the liver ha ha so it is indeed gonna be a thing, okay

SAM Could be looking for a witch, yeah. You know what? He's parked here. He's safe. Maybe we should just get another room until we can figure this out. DEAN All right, but you're the one going full-cavity for the hex bag.

excuse me what

SAM Well, that's not – never mind. Um…We need to think. Dean, what do we know of that has Jason Bourne fighting skills, dies a lot, and has a history with violent women? DEAN I don't know – you?

all right that was pretty great. i'll take it!

before dean answered my thoughts were the old guard

first one because it's a pretty shot. second and third, dean with the death glare at the family

DEAN Okay, so who is this guy? SAM Best I can tell? Prometheus.

LOL okay. so *literally* prometheus

SAM I'm guessing Artemis, Zeus' daughter. She's been known to carry around weapons like that dagger. They're nasty. They'll kill Immortals dead.

need to add that one to the collection. this is silly

DEAN Wait. I'm sorry. You just discovered that you have a seven-year-old son, and you want to walk away?

jealous/projecting much

okay so i thought i knew her voice, she was in the replacements! big soft spot for football and football movies and this one doesn't age well (replacement players aka our heroes are scabs) however if you take that aspect away, it's sweet and funny and there was a line by gene hackman in it that was such a good visual for my perpetual anxiety

Jimmy McGinty: Like a duck on the pond. On the surface everything looks calm, but beneath the water those little feet are churning a mile a minute.

the replacements (2000) brooke langton as annabelle farrell

now i have soft feelings for this rando lady because of it lol

i really think being a fan of teen wolf was good preparation for these later seasons of supernatural. plot that makes me roll my eyes regularly, no problem. it's no ~75 year old computer behind a wall in someone's fancy lake house being the only thing keeping a hit list of supernatural creatures active

handy they had a magic trap for a god.

*nodding sagely* yes, longbow of diana, of course

SAM You know… I'm starting to think maybe I was being naive. DEAN What are you talking about? SAM When I said that I could just will myself into coming out of these trials unscathed. DEAN No, no, no. Stop with the sullen emo crap, all right? That's – you're not gonna die like Prometheus. SAM How do you know, Dean? Bobby, Rufus, now Prometheus – you think any of them chose death? No. The life chose for them. DEAN Yeah, well, you promised, okay? You promised to live a long, Clark Griswold life full of prostate exams and colonoscopies, all right? You're not welshing on that deal, not on my watch. If you die, it's gonna be because of something normal.

i don't understand the leap of logic to dying like prometheus but okay we're talking, that's always good. now would also be the time to say hey by the way i'm coughing up/spitting up blood

also dean, why don't you have to promise to live a long life (oh right because you won't)

DEAN Cas, you got your ears on? Listen, you know I am not one for praying, 'cause in my book it's... it's the same as begging. But this is about Sam, so I need you to hear me. We are going into this deal blind... and I don't know what's ahead or what it's gonna bring for Sam. Now, he's covering pretty good, but I know that he is hurting, and this one was supposed to be on me. So, for all that we've been through, I'm asking you... you keep a lookout for my little brother, okay? Where the hell are you, man?

💔okay so i'm glad dean is aware that sam's hiding that he's in pain/sick/whatever and just isn't pushing him on it. pullin out the little brother again so soon

(insert joke about dean begging here)

something about this mushy music has me feeling twilight or hunger games and i'm not sure which. ugh. bella's lullaby / rue's music (but that doesn't even have piano but it does have that plucked acoustic guitar like day before yesterday's s8e14 princess bride-esque music)

fucking fine, i listened to this again and the music is making me twitchy. why is it ringing this bell??? it's the little melody at the end around 30 seconds left. is it a theme used elsewhere in this show? is it just too similar to something else i'm thinking of? motherFUCKER. the score on this show is generally is such a nothingburger that it's in one ear and out the other for me.

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 8x16 #andrew loflin #the replacements #spnhiky #hiky #brooke langton #spn musical score #spn mushy music

[luthieny-is-sherlocked]

I posted this little story on ao3 some time ago and I decided to share it here too. So I hope you enjoy it 😊

Nothing worst than nothing

Fantasy can hardly conceive crueler entities than that indifferent and impenetrable Universe that greets no one. There is nothing worse than nothing.

Alejandro Dolina - Crónicas del Ángel Gris

*

Castiel spent more time than usual without speaking and absorbed in his thoughts since he had returned from The Empty, but every time Dean tried to ask him about it, the Angel diverted the subject or even ignored him completely.

While that was one of the most obvious changes that everyone in the bunker had noticed, Dean was also aware of the emergence of a new series of small, almost compulsive behaviors: Cas seemed unwilling to go into totally dark rooms, and if he did, it was reluctantly and breathing in a precisely controlled way; if they were together, no matter where, he was so close to him that the backs of their hands were constantly brushing, and Dean was convinced that it had to do with the need to corroborate that he was not alone; every once in a while, when Dean returned to the bunker after a hunt or shopping and no one but the angel was there, he would find him curled up in one of the library chairs, playing soft music. Castiel had said it was relaxing, but the tension in his shoulders and the alertness in his blue eyes told Dean something else: maybe he couldn't be completely silent anymore.

Dean understood that he had to give him space and not push him, but the knot that formed in the pit of his stomach every time this happened was almost so tangible that he couldn't help it. He wanted to help Cas. He had to help Cas.

So one night he decided he had to take matters into his own hands before it got any worse. He just had to think about how to approach the subject.

Sam and Jack were out of town doing research on a spirit that seemed to be haunting a commercial building, so it was just the two of them left in the bunker.

Dean was in the kitchen busy with dinner preparations when Castiel approached him with stealthy steps. Without saying anything, he leaned against the counter and fixed his blue eyes on the floor.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" Dean asked, stopping what he was doing to focus on him completely.

The angel shook his head almost imperceptibly, but his lips seemed sealed. With a sigh, Dean wiped his hands and decided to mirror his posture, close enough that his entire right side pressed against Cas's left.

"Talk to me, Cas. Please," he begged in a soft voice, not losing hope that this would be enough.

It took a few minutes of silence but when Castiel decided to break it, he did so in a way that seemed so vulnerable that Dean was sure he heard his own heart break.

"Is this real, Dean? Are you real? Am I really here?”

Dean closed his eyes for a second, Cas's suffering echoing in his own mind. When he answered him, he did so with as much calm as he could muster.

“There's nothing more real than us right now, Cas. Nothing more real than you and me in the kitchen of this bunker, side by side, just like we've always been since the moment you gripped me tight and raised me from perdition”

The man put aside all the doubts he felt to allow his right hand to wrap around the angel's, intertwining their fingers in a natural and intimate gesture. Perhaps this was a good time to speak clearly, to open the door to all those feelings that they both knew were there even though they didn't dare admit them.

Dean took a deep breath and looked at his companion, meeting that pair of bright eyes already fixed on him.

Blue against green.

Or, even better, blue and green.

He gave Castiel's hand a light squeeze and, as if that simple gesture had given him the courage he needed, the angel spoke again:

"Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I'm still trapped in the Empty," he explained. His steady voice perhaps did not reveal what was happening inside him at that moment, but the pain and sadness were clearly reflected in his eyes. “The darkness, the silence, the loneliness... At times I feel like they are going to catch me. That they are going to crush me and take me to nothing again. And trust me, Dean, there's nothing worse than nothing .”

Dean wanted to ask why he hadn't confided that to him earlier, but he bit his tongue because he knew how difficult it was to talk about such terrible personal experiences. And Cas still wasn't the best at dealing with his own or others' emotions.

“No one is going to take you away from us again. That filthy entity will drop dead at my feet if they even dare to lay a hand on you, Cas.”

Dean knew they were both aware that they had no idea how a creature like that could be killed, but that didn't mean his promise wasn't serious. Because if necessary, he would find a way to fulfill it. He would do more than he could in order to keep the angel by his side. His angel.

“You know? Those days without you were…terrible. Unbearable. The only thing I could think of was how to bring you back home, because I wasn't willing to accept your death,” he told him. And as he spoke, he leaned forward, impossibly close to those blue sky eyes. “I'm not losing you again, Cas. Your family needs you here. I need you here... because I can't be happy if you're not by my side. I hope that’s clear.”

And then he saw him smile. It was a smile that barely lifted the corners of his lips, but it was there nonetheless, wrapping warmth and calm in every feature of his face.

And Dean? Oh, Dean returned the gesture. Because it didn't take much more than that for his soul to rejoice. Nothing made him happier than seeing Castiel by his side, happy, safe, alive.

Cas was the one who had the courage (or the nerve enough) to close the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time with the softness of a caress and the yearning accumulated over the years.

United hands, happy hearts, souls in peace.

Castiel was right: there was nothing worse than nothing. But there, in the kitchen of the Men of Letters Bunker, they had something.

They had much more than that.

There, in the kitchen or wherever they were, they had something bigger than that Universe so full of everything and nothing at the same time: they had a family, they had compassion, they had empathy, they had each other, they had a home.

And, most importantly, they had love.

They had plenty of love.

*

Here's the link to ao3

#destiel #supernatural #castiel #deancas #dean winchester #casdean

[lulu-zodiac]

Heyy!

Which scenes, according to you, are the most underrated jacting joices scenes? I personally think the soft voice even when it is supposed to be an angry scene. I know people have talked about this before but I think it isn't being talked about that much. The way Jensen's voice softens at the end of an "angry don't-do-anything-stupid" lecture Dean is giving to Cas. Dammit Jensen you're supposed to act angry here!

-🤠

oh boy, you should NOT have asked me about this lol. i could go on about jacting joices for literal hours (and to be fair, i kind of have).

personally, i think that ALL the jacting joices scenes are wildly underrated. but these would be my top 11:

1) the Fist Clench (pt1)

okay, i know this one is probably one of the best-known jacting joices scenes, but i felt i couldn't make a post about jacting joices without including it because HOLY HELL WHAT EVEN WAS THIS. also honestly? although it's talked about quite a lot, i still think it's underrated for how completely insane it is. jackles literally chose to play dean getting fucking visibly turned on by the return of a man he's just spent the last year searching for, and the producers just rolled with it.

2) the Fist Clench (pt2)

oh man this moment is fucking everything. there was absolutely NO REASON for jackles choosing to quietly clench his fist after dean touches cas. absolutely no reason at all. but he did, and it says so much. the crushed yearning in this scene is absolutely wild, and purely down to jackles and his wondrous jacting joices.

3) literally any scene in which dean interacts with people from the LGBT+ community

i mean. okay. just click through this post. the goddamn nuance of expression jackles gives dean when he's faced with LGBT characters is SO CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. the fear, the defensiveness, the hope?? jackles chooses and has has always chosen to play dean in a way that is profoundly suggestive of dean's struggle to accept his bisexuality, and, as a bisexual who spent a lot of time in the closet, it is entirely too realistic.

the jacting joices in this scene with charlie are absolutely everything.

4) this entire scene with dean and aaron

i know i basically covered this above, but i feel like this scene deserves its own moment because jesus christ. the jacting choices here are a LOT. if anyone was in any doubt about dean's sexuality before this scene, they certainly weren't afterwards. jackles really said i'm gonna play dean bi and went all out and i'm so here for it.

5) dean's expression the first time he hears cas's name

gif credit: @theplushbear

okay THIS SCENE. this might just be my favourite jacting joice of all time. because holy shit, the wide-eyed, vulnerable recognition?? the pure, unguarded hope in his eyes when he hears cas's name for the first time?? absolutely insane. this is an expression unlike any we've seen dean wear before, full of this hopeful, fearful kind of reverence that is just absolutely stunning.

jackles, you did this. you set destiel up before cas even walked into that barn.

6) any scene where dean touches cas

the fact that jackles chooses to always play dean touching cas in ways that are so soft and tender and lingering, even amidst violence, will never not make me loose my mind. here are some further complications just to help you lose yours too.

7) LITERALLY EVERYTHING IN PURGATORY

i don't really think i need to elaborate on this, do i??

8) this fucking scene in heaven can't wait

the performative masculine bravado? the barely-concealed, agonised yearning? the way dean's smile slips off his face the moment cas looks away? the way everything about dean's body language and expression just screams heartbreak and regret???JACKLES I AM ASKING YOU TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF (also: thank you).

9) dean watching dr sexy fuck someone

okay, jackles. i mean. just. okay.

10) all of the (many, many) moments dean checks cas out

i know we talk about it a lot already, but i feel like it can never be talked about enough just how many goddamn times jackles chose to play dean blatantly checking cas out. in ways that were like, completely unrelated to anything else that was going on in the episode. just for the sake of it. god bless the jacting joices.

11) dean's reaction to cas's confession

the jacting joices in this scene are so, so underrated.

the silent disbelief and agony and hope are so beautifully acted i'm literally just tearing up looking at gifs of it.

i know we all wanted dean to respond to cas's confession, but honestly? the jacting joices in this scene speak as loud as dean's words ever could. the way you can see dean wordlessly pleading for it not to be true because means they've wasted all this time combined with the helpless hope of realising what he's wanted for so long really belongs to him. just. wow.

i mean, the conflict, the depth, the nuance of dean's expressions?? jackles deserves so many awards for literally everything about this scene. god bless his jacting joices for giving us the reciprocal confession we were denied out loud.

sorry this ended up being so insanely long! clearly i have a lot of feelings about jacting joices...

i love your observation about him using a soft voice when speaking to cas, even when it's an angry scene. that's honestly not something i picked up on before, but you're absolutely right.

thank you so much for giving me the excuse to ramble about jacting joices all evening! <3

#honestly i could easily have made this so much longer #i may need help #sorry it took me a while to answer this #life has been busy #also sorry i think the formatting of this is fucked a bit #cowboy anon #destiel #jacting joices #jensen ackles #heller jensen #deancas #destiel meta #spn #supernatural #asks #my posts: destiel

[chocolatecakecas]

Quality Family Time: Baby Jack ficlet

for the bah discord besties<3

In Dean's humble opinion, the week was off to a pretty good start. Sunday, he and Cas took Jack to the library and let him go wild in the children's section, then let him run off his "excitement about literature" in the park, ending with lunch at their favorite diner, which is Dean's humble opinion qualifies as a pretty great Sunday afternoon. And then Sammy and Eileen finished up their hunt earlier than expected, and they even brought back Claire and Kaia as a surprise. Meaning they got to all have a much-needed family dinner, movie night, and catch up with the girls. And they decided to stay for a few days, which meant extra babysitters, which really meant, he and Cas could have their date night this week. And of course it also meant Dean had a few days to just hang out with his family, watch some movies, watch his kids bond, run some stupid errands, cook some big meals. 

Now it was Wednesday, and Dean was spending the day with Eileen and Jack, while the others opted to help Sam with the supply run. Eileen was getting a movie queued up for Jack's nap, while Dean got a start on some laundry.  

(read the rest under the cut)

He was currently running out to the garage to grab the blanket he keeps folded in Baby's trunk, smiling fondly at the memory of Monday's date night.  

So yeah as far as Wednesdays go, Dean was having a pretty good one.

At least, he was.

Dean's stomach dropped as he flicked the lights on, barely registering the clang of his keys hitting the floor, standing frozen in the doorway.  

He's hallucinating, he must be. There's absolutely no way that-

He squeezed his eyes shut, counting to ten while he tried to will away the hallucination with his mind. But unfortunately for Dean, he didn't have that kind of mind power, because that thing was still sitting there when he opened his eyes.

Fuck.

Forcing his feet to move, Dean stepped further into the garage, reaching out a shaking hand as he inched forward. 

He'll just touch it and his hand will go through it, and he can blame this hallucination on that questionable burger he ate at some local joint they all went to last night. It'll be fi-

Dean's blood turned to ice as his hand connected with cool metal. He quickly jumped back in shock, jaw hitting the floor.

Because last time he checked, Dean didn't leave an 18 foot long Lightning McQueen sitting in his beloved Baby's parking spot. 

He tried to speak but all that came out was an incoherent squeak, as he raced around the car inspecting every inch of it.

He couldn't get any of the doors open or the hood for that matter, but as far as he could tell it seemed to be a real car, despite being a cartoon look-a-like. 

Well, at least it wasn't talking. 

"Ka-chow"

Dean slumped over onto the roof of the car, banging his head, fists following in defeat.

Because there was a Lightning McQueen look-a-like with a toy voice box, parked in the garage of their super top-secret underground Bunker, in place of one of his most prized possessions. 

Maybe he spoke too soon about having a pretty good Wednesday. 

Why is this happening? How did this thing get in here? Where is his Baby? Is she alright? Can he even get her back? How the hell did this ev-

Son of a bitch. 

"Jack!" Dean called, voice coming out more strangled than he'd care to admit. 

Of course. Cars had become Jack's new obsession over the past week, they first watched it on Friday night and he's insisted on watching it at least once a day ever since. 

Dean groaned scrubbing his hands down his face. There's truly never a dull moment with a half-Nephilim toddler. 

Jack probably didn't even realize what happened. Sometimes his powers react before his mind can catch up with them, like when he subconsciously made all of his toys come to life after Toy Story became his favorite movie. The kid probably didn't even know about the Cars wannabe parked in the garage, besides his kid would never tamper with Bab-

"Dee! You found Lightning!" 

Dean's jaw once again found its way back down to the floor. His own kid.

He turned to see his four-year-old come bounding into the garage, practically bursting with joy.

"What the hell"

Dean tore his gaze away from Jack to see Eileen frozen in the doorway, who's jaw also joined Dean's on the floor. 

"Look see it's just like Lightning, Dee!" Jack cheered as he ran over to check out the car, regaining Dean's attention.

"Uh...ye-yeah buddy. I-I can see that bu-" Dean began sounding pained, only to be cut off by Jack.

"It's a real car, Dee. You can drive it! And look I gots all the stickers on it too"

"Yeah kiddo, bu-"

"And it can talk too! It says all of Lightning's things! Do you like it Dee? Where you surprised?" Jack asked as he wrapped himself around Dean's legs, smiling up at him without a care in the world.

Dean still mostly in shock, glanced up at Eileen who looked to be in the same boat, except she was holding back barely contained laughter. 

Great no help from his best friend, traitor. So Dean shakily knelt down placing his hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Listen, Squirt. I was definitely surprised. But yo-"

"Oh my god"

Dean's head jerked up to see Sam, Cas, Claire, and Kaia now standing with Eileen in the doorway, dropped grocery bags spilling out onto the floor. All of them too stunned to move, except for Cas who luckily must have noticed the distress in Dean's eyes.

"Jack, Baby. What is this?" Cas asked, quickly making his way over to them, quickly kneeling down beside Dean.

"I made Baby into Lightning! Ta da!"

"Wait, that thing is my Baby?" Dean asked voice cracking. 

And of course, that's what did it.

Sam doubled over in laughter, Eileen, Claire, and Kaia quickly following, and Cas was beside him, clearly trying to conceal his laughter.

"God this is the best thing I've ever seen" Sam wheezed in the background, and if Dean weren't still reeling he'd walk right over and punch him. 

Cas placed a grounding hand on Dean's shoulder, all while trying to bite back his smile. Well, Dean appreciated the gesture, at least he was trying to be considerate, unlike some people he knew.

"Bug, do you remember what Daddy and I told you about using your powers?" Cas begins, trying and failing to sound stern.

"That I can't make my toys be alive! And I didn't Baby isn't alive, and she's not even a toy!" Jack explains with a smile. 

"Yea-yeah Squirt, but the second part of that little talk was that you shouldn't use your powers unless you ask Daddy, or me, or Uncle Sammy or Aunt Eileen, remember?" Dean supplied after he finally got his gears spinning again.

"Ooooohhh. Oops, sorry!"Jack shrugs and he even had half a mind to at least look a little bit sorry, but it's drowned out by another fresh wave of laughter.

"I'm so glad we decided to stay longer, does stuff like this happen all the time?" Kaia laughed behind him, as Claire wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Oh I'm so glad my distress is amusing to all of you!" Dean shot back, voice still a little unsteady, which only caused them to laugh harder. Cas met his eyes, as he squeezed his shoulder, scooting closer.

"Squirt it's okay, just uh don't do it again....now where exactly is the real Baby?" Dean asked cutting right to the chase, not missing the look Cas gave him for glossing over the whole "don't use your powers without asking" lesson.

But there was time for that later, because right now his Baby was currently a firetruck red cartoon racecar with eyes.

"That is Baby. I just made her look like that, it's her. See!" Jack explained jumping up and dragging Dean over. Everyone else followed suit, Sam giving him a shit eating grin as he handed Dean the discarded keys.

To Dean's surprise, the key unlocked the car just like baby, and the interior looked exactly the same.

"Wow kid, this is honestly pretty cool" Claire complimented with a low whistle, which earned her a death glare from Dean, only making her laugh harder.

Unbelievable. All of his kids have it out for his car today.

Dean heaved a sigh as he watched his family examine every inch of the car, not bothering to hold back their laughter at this point.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we didn't watch How to Train Your Dragon" Cas quipped wrapping Dean in his arms as he pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Dean flopped over and laid his forehead on Cas's shoulder, letting a soft laugh escape.

"Yeah well, at least my car wouldn't have been caught in the crossfire" Dean groaned back, feeling Cas' laugh rumble in his chest.

"Yes I know this is a tragedy, clearly the real live dragons would have caused less damage-well less emotional damage anyway"

"Woah, look at that, he's got jokes. Alright everyone step away from the racecar" Dean smirked, yelling that last bit as he pushed away from Cas' chest. He made his way over to Jack who was currently in the driver's seat (keys nowhere near the ignition of course), showing everyone how the horn says McQueen catchphrases now.

"Alright Houdini, while the Lightning McQueen trick was very cool, and we've reminded you that we don't use powers unless we ask. It's time to turn him back into Baby, capiche?" Dean said in the most no-nonsense tone he could manage as he kneelt down to Jack's level.

And of course Dean's very logical, very simple, very warranted request resulted in an uproar from his family.

"Wait you aren't even gonna take it for a spin?"

"You've literally got thee Lightning McQueen sitting in your garage"

"Dean c'mon one dri-"

"Nope. Not happening. Now way am I driving that thing" Dean cut in, flinging his arms out for emphasis and effectively silencing the traitor-his family.

Then he felt a little tug on his shirt.

"Please Dee? One time, then I change Baby back?" Jack asked with his best puppy dog eyes, and Dean quickly made a mental note to kick Sam's ass for teaching him that.

And as he slowly tilted his head back up, he was met with four pleading faces, all hovering around the car He desperately turned his gaze towards Cas knowing he'd be the voice of reason, he'd neve-

"Well, it would be a waste not to take the car for at least one ride" Cas shrugged almost sheepishly, barely hiding his grin. Dean stared back into his eyes trying to will him to change his mind, but he knew it was pointless.

Dean sighed his defeat, running a hand down his face. Damnit

"Fine, one drive-and I mean one. Twenty minutes tops" He shouted, throwing his hands in air in exasperation as everyone cheered.

And when Dean found himself driving back to the bunker four hours later, he and failed tried to hid his smile. He glanced in the mirror at Claire and Jack passed out, while Kaia and Sam held a whispered conversation in the magically (which Jack may or may not have had a hand in) stretched out backseat. Eileen turned in the front seat joining the conversation, as Cas sat in the middle, pressed up against Dean.

Cas gave his hand a squeezing, shooting him a knowing smile, which only earned a nudge from Dean.

So yeah, maybe Dean did almost have a heart attack earlier in the day. And maybe he did have to let a bunch of annoying people in the next town over pose for pictures with the car when they stopped for dinner. And maybe the horn said "Ka-chow" and "I am speed". And maybe the drive was more than twenty minutes. But in Dean's humble opinion, it was still a pretty good Wednesday after all.

Lightning McQueen be damned.

Tag list pt 1:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @angeltiddies @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@athenixrose @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @thiscowboyisbisexual @carverera @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie

#a very normal fic. nothing weird here at all #very normal<3 #i actually think im really funny #im fine<33333 #nothing strange. just baby jack and a fambly #bec writes #baby jack truthing #destiel fic #destiel #plantdadcas #dean winchester #seraphcastiel #rambleoncas #userzaddy #uservilma

[wormstacheangel]

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 all of these are short so enjoy <3

Dean wasn’t sure where he stood with Cas, and he hated every fucking second of it.

He looked at his watch again, it’s only been a little less than an hour since Cas and Sam left on their stupid double date, but he already felt like he was crawling up the walls. He was pacing the room, trying to figure out what he could have said to stop Cas from going and wondering why Cas accepted the damn date in the first place.

Was he not enough?

It hasn’t even been three days since Dean finally said the big L word to him. Did Cas not hear him? Did he think he was fucking joking? Was the tongue down his throat not enough proof that Dean was over the fucking moon to finally have Cas. Have him in a way he never thought was going to be possible for them.

Why? Why did he go?

Maybe he was a lousy kisser? No. No, he’s an awesome kisser! But what if-

Dean jumps at the sound of his ringtone and answers it without looking at who it is.

“Dean.” He heard the familiar annoyed voice call his name in a low growl. “Stop.”

It took a second for Dean to understand what was going on. “Cas? Dude, why are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be entertaining your stu-your date?”

“I can’t. You are being insufferable.”

Dean was taken back by the words. Did he actually send all those texts he thought about sending?

“I know you tend to forget, Dean, but I can feel your longing, and it is distracting.” Oh! Oh. Shit. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What the fuck do you think is wrong? That’s what Dean should have said but instead, “Nothing.” He is a coward, first and foremost. At least, when it comes to Cas, he was.

“You are giving me too much of a headache for it to be nothing.” Cas sighed, and Dean noticed the background noise quiets down on Cas’s end. “Are you okay? Should I come home?”

Yes! “No!” Dean quickly waves him off as if Cas could see him. “Stay. Have a fun time with your um, with your date.”

Cas doesn’t say anything for a long 20 seconds--Dean had to check if he hung up--before he sighs. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye.”

No. Not, goodbye. “I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll wait up for you so we can...talk. About you finally having your first date. Look at you, back from the dead and in the game. Good on you, Cas.”

“I would like that.” Silence again. Dean was about to hang up when he heard, “It’s not my first date.”

“What?”

“You said this is my first date, but it’s not.” Dean was about to tease him. To remind him that the date with the reaper or the one with him as a babysitter didn’t count but Cas beat him to the next words. “I like my dates with you more.”

Dean’s heart skips, and he thinks he misheard him, but before he can ask Cas to repeat it. The line goes dead, and Dean is left pacing the floor again. Wondering if the heat on his cheeks was ever going to go away.

“Am I--Is Cas...Am I being played?” Dean fell into his bed with a groan. Still left confused on where he stood with Cas.

--(More under the tag)

Cas is doing it again.

He’s acting as if he didn’t just come back from a date with this...Lucy person and pretending that everything is so damn peachy. He was sitting on the other side of Dean’s bed, once again head resting on Dean’s shoulder as if it had now become a nice habit of his. He welcomed the weight, the warmth of Cas pressed beside him, of course. He is just so damn confused.

“You know,” Cas looked up at him, his nose pressed to Dean’s jaw. “You’re the one that asked how my night went. So I sort of expected you to, you know, listen.”

He was listening. Listening to every damn word Cas spoke because, of course, he didn’t miss a single detail. He talked about the food, bland he described it, and Eileen picked off his plate. He talked about how Lucy laughed when he didn’t say anything funny, and Sam insisted that it meant she liked him. He talked about how he wasn’t sure if he liked these fancy places; he was used to the noise of diners and kind waitresses refiling his coffee when he didn’t need to ask.

But just now, he was just rambling on about how smart, kind, and great Lucy was. Did he use any of those words? No, but he might as well be kissing the floor she walked on by the way he talked about her.

“Dean?” Cas reached over, the palm of his hand laying flat on the side of Dean’s face. “You okay?”

Yes. “No.”

Wait. He was supposed to say the opposite.

Cas sat up to look at him better, and Dean missed the weight of him already. Wanting to reach over and pull him back in, he also might as well say what he thought so they can move on from this because he was so fucking tired of this.

They are so close, and shit will not happen if Dean keeps rambling in his head instead of talking out loud. Like Sam says--or better yet, what he is trying to drill in his head--communication is the key to a healthy relationship. Right now, he just wants a fucking relationship.

Dean looks at Cas; sad sky eyes stare back at him. Filled with questions that maybe he was also afraid to ask, but it’s Dean’s turn to make a move this time. At least he thinks so. He wasn’t sure when they started taking turns, but fuck, he missed Cas tonight and hates that someone else got to have a romantic night with him.

Without another thought, Dean pulled at the stupid bowtie and dragged Cas forward until their lips met for another long-awaited kiss. The tug may have choked an actual person, but luckily, Cas didn’t seem to find a problem with it as he moved closer to deepen the kiss.

Tell me you didn’t kiss her. Tell me you don’t want to see her ever again. Tell me you want me. Only me. Tell me...tell me you love me.

“I love you.” Dean hears himself say. It was desperate as his grip on Cas tightened; he could feel his fingers dig into Cas’s waist as he pulled him forward until his whole weight was on top of him. Cas starts to pull away, probably wanting to look at him again, but Dean keeps his eyes closed as he cranes his neck up to catch Cas’s lips. Wanting to feel, to pretend, that Cas only was his.

Cas kisses back for a second or two, longer, but it didn’t take much strength for him to pull back to look at Dean. Eyes filled with concern as he let Dean roll him into his back.

“Say it back, damn it.” Dean starts undoing the bowtie and fumbles with Cas’s buttoned shirt as he noses the stubble on the angel’s jaw. “Cas, say it.”

“I love you.” Cas takes Dean’s face between his large hands and forces him to look at his sad eyes again. “I love you, Dean. So tell me, what’s wrong?”

Dean didn’t try to pull away; instead, he fell against Cas’s body. Laying all his weight on him, knowing damn well Cas could take it, he probably weighed nothing to him. Like a feather.

Dean’s face tucked into Cas’s neck as he felt those fingers in his hair, soothing them before he rubbed his back. Probably trying to figure out which one was more comforting, but for Dean, any soft touch from him will do.

This is stupid. Desperate. Pathetic. But he needs to ask.

“Am not enough for you?”

“What?”

Dean doesn’t move from his hiding spot. Not wanting Cas to see his face as he talks. “Why’d you say to a date with someone else? I thought we were...I know I’m not good at all this, but I thought we were--at least, I was trying.” Dean shoved his face closer into his throat until he could feel Cas’s heartbeat against his nose. “I was trying, Cas!”

“I know!” Cas’s hands tighten on his Dean’s shoulders as if he was going to push him away, but then he stopped himself. “I only said yes because I figured it was what you wanted.”

“What?” Dean mumbled into Cas’s skin before he pushed himself up just enough to stare down at him. Repeating himself. “What?”

“The day after we kissed, you ignored everyone, including me. I thought you were...ashamed. Maybe you wanted to keep things private. So to keep Sam from suspecting us-”

“You said yes to a date.” Dean finished for him while Cas slowly nodded. Looking at him as if fighting with himself to not read Dean’s thoughts. Probably best he didn’t. He’ll just hear screaming. Dean sighed in relief as he fell into Cas again, relaxing as Cas’s arms wrapped around him. “Dumbass.”

“I didn’t mean to make you doubt my feelings for you. But to be fair, how can you possibly doubt my feelings for you? I died so that I can say them.”

“Actually, I thought you changed your mind cause I sucked at kissing.”

“You do not suck.”

“Thanks.” Dean chuckled, kissing Cas’s bare chest. His cheeks were warming up as his mind just caught up with his action. “Sorry.”

“I should be the one-”

“No, Cas. Me. I made you think I wanted to hide us.” Dean lifted his head again, looking down at Cas, who gave him a soft, warm smile. “I don’t. Maybe I was a little nervous, but that’s cause you kept acting like me holding your dumb hand was like...normal or whatever.”

“I thought if I make a big deal of it, then you’ll freak out.” Damn. Got him there. And yet, he still freaked out. “But I see now that we should have...talked about it?”

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled as he realized how stupid they both had been. “Yeah, that probably would have helped.”

Cas surprised him by reaching up to give him a hesitant kiss. His eyes were bright as they sparkled when Dean met the familiar gaze.

“We can um,” Dean clears his throat nervously as he keeps his eyes on Cas. “We can talk later.”

“Later. Later is good.”

“Good.”

Cas reaches to kiss him again, bringing him down until they are lost in each other.

--

The next morning Dean woke up with a spring in his step, and Sam noticed right away.

“What’s up with you?” He raised his eyebrows at him, teasing him with a smile. “Had a fun night with Scooby?”

“Watched Animaniacs, for your information.” Dean poured two cups of coffee. “And no. I had the most perfect company last night.”

Sam opened his mouth before squinting at him. “Did you-? Wait, did you bring a girl over to the bunker?”

“No!” Dean said just as Cas walked in, wrapped in nothing but Dean’s robe. “There you are. Thought you were gonna follow me.”

Dean walked over to hand Cas his coffee, kissing his cheek before walking back to get his own cup.

“I was. You neglected to tell me I wasn’t wearing clothes. So I had to go find something to cover up.” Cas sat in front of Sam who stared at them with wide eyes. “Morning, Sam.”

It took Sam a few seconds before he muttered. “I hate you guys. I mean, congratulations, but fuck you. Didn’t need that image in my head so early in the morning.”

Dean sat beside Cas, shoulders bumping, before he looked at Sam over the rim of his cup. “Now you can stop trying to set Cas up on dumb dates.”

“I had a fun time last night, Sam. Thank you.” Cas quickly said before looking back at Dean. “But I think I will just continue dating your brother instead.”

“Okay,” Sam got up, giving them both a tight smile and a thumbs up. “Congrats again. Next time wear underwear, Cas.”

“Stop looking at my boyfriend!” “I couldn’t find it.” Dean and Cas say at the same time.

Dean finally knows what Cas is to him.

“We should hurry if we want to beat the kids to the diner.” Cas gets up, kissing the top of Dean’s head as he goes. “I like this.”

“Me too.” Dean reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers together as he pulls Cas down for a kiss.

Best friend. Boyfriend. The light at the end of the tunnel.

“Love you.” Dean whispers against his lips, making Cas smile into the kiss.

“Love you, too.”

Everything. He’s everything.

#i kept thinking of chandler saying 'i scared you! im lonely and awkward and desperate for love!' #and we got this monstrocity #prob not what you guys wanted but I thought it went well lol #deancas #destiel #wormstachewrites #fic #thanks :)

[sir-elyan]

Are You Happy? (Save Them Some Pie)

HAPPY 42ND BIRTHDAY, DEAN!! this is my gift to him for being my comfort person that i would hug on sight if given the chance 💗 love you dude, may you indulge in copious amounts of pie. ~ 1.5k words.

also dedicated to marlo ( @heller-jensen ), jace ( @thiscastielhasflown ) and dee ( @castee-yel ) thanks for bein real ones <3

[READ ON AO3]

The day had already started out weird enough.

Dean had woken up drenched in sweat, mind racing with the last lingering thoughts of a nightmare. A vamp nest that he and Sam had been hunting, Dean dying in the most ludicrous way possible, and driving Baby down a long road for an indiscriminate amount of time in a supposed heaven that his father (his father) also co-habited. Needless to say, the dream had come out of nowhere, but it was easy enough to forget once the smell of bacon made its way into his room.

Breakfast was hardy and quick, with enough coffee to fuel him for the rest of the day as he skimmed the internet for a possible case. He had the itch, but apparently, looking around at the three sleepy faces around him at the table, no one else did.

He packed up anyway, preparing for what would likely be an easy salt-n-burn; he’d be gone for only a few hours, tops. On his way out, Cas stops him before he can scale the stairs, arm gripping his shoulder tightly. There’s a memory, briefly—the same hand, the same shoulder. Blood.

Dean looks down at it. Back at Cas.

“…Yeah?”

After a moment, Cas lets go. He steps back half an inch as if he had forgotten himself. “Just…be careful.”

Dean nods, moving to leave again, taking the awkwardness as both a Cas thing and a morning thing and content to leave it at that. 

“And,” Cas says. Dean turns back.

“Come home.”

//

Dean picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dean, hey! It’s, uh. It’s me. Krissy?”

Dean feels himself begin to smile, mindful of the road ahead of him. He balances his phone on his thigh while he drives.

“Hey, kid! Long time no call. How are you? Everything okay?”

The case had been as easy as Dean had suspected, but he had that familiar muscle ache and heaviness to his eyes that solo cases usually gave him.

Besides that, he was getting a little confused about all of the calls he’d been getting today. Before Krissy, it had been Garth, and before that, Claire and Jody and…

“Uh, yeah, dude, everything’s good. Um. How are you? How’s Sam and that angel of yours?”

Dean swallows to keep from choking, or potentially crashing the car.

“They’re good. Yeah…good.” Alive, he wants to say, back from the dead, probably in the DeanCave watching Scooby Doo without him. “Sorry, Krissy, ah,” he steps off the break to make a left, “I’m actually on my way home right now. Was there something I could help you with?”

There’s a pause, and Dean chances a glance at his phone to see if the call had dropped off. It hadn’t.

“Krissy?”

“I,” she huffs in what sounds like a laugh, “Nothing, Dean. You get home safe, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“And hey,” Krissy says, before he can say his goodbyes, “Uh, make sure you save some pie for everybody else.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow a bit, but he laughs. “I will. Take care of yourself.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Ba-bye.”

//

Dean’s still mulling over the pie comment when he nearly falls down the stairs, squinting into the darkness of the Bunker.

“What the hell?” he asks, voice hoarse around the high note. “Guys?”

When there’s no immediate answer, Dean’s instincts kick in. He pulls out his gun and gently drops his bag, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust so he can try for the stairs.

Before he can, though, the lights kick back on. His gaze locks onto the scene below, and Dean slowly lowers his gun.

“Happy birthday!” Jack says, the sound of a party horn whining shortly after. Beside him, Cas pulls the string of a party popper, and he jerks as bits of confetti fall around him and into his hair.

Skeptically, Dean starts descending down the stairs.

“You…this…” he manages.

“It’s your birthday, dumbass,” Sam says, swooping forward to slap a party hat on Dean’s head as soon as he’s made the landing. He smiles.

“Oh…kay.” Around them, the Bunker looks pretty normal. The only difference is the array of pies on one of the library tables, next to what looks like home made rice krispie treats, and a couple of birthday-themed plates and napkins. That, and the confetti from Cas’ party popper that litters the floor. “Are you sure?”

Cas frowns at Sam. “Sam was certain. I can’t imagine he’d get the day wrong, but he has had quite severe brain trauma over the years. Perhaps…” Cas reaches out to Sam’s head, probably intent on searching his brain for said trauma, or for the date of Dean’s actual birthday. Sam swats his hand away.

“Hey, no. My trauma is fine. Dean,” Sam redirects his attention to him, “It’s today. Did you really forget?”

Dean shrugs, trying to piece the day together from the beginning. Shitty dream, good breakfast, the three of them weirdly insisting on staying at the Bunker…the calls. Save some pie for everybody else.

He laughs. “So that’s what she meant.”

“That’s what who meant?” Jack asks. He’s wearing a party hat, too, with ridiculous stripes of blue and pink and purple patterned onto it. It matches the one currently strapped to Dean’s own. He shakes his head.

“You’re telling me all of you knew? This whole time? And…and…” He looks around again, pointing vaguely at the table and the confetti. “You put this all together for me?”

Sam shoves his arm playfully. “Course we did. Now quit pouting and come eat some pie.”

//

Sam is fast asleep, sprawled out on the couch hours later with one of his hands brushing the floor. Dean thinks he spots drool on the pillow underneath him. 

Cas has been quiet next to Dean, at least since Jack had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago and hadn’t come back, thoughtfully tracing the lip of his beer bottle with his finger. 

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks, because he wants to know.

Cas continues unbothered. Scooby Doo reruns play in the background. Dean almost repeats the question, but Cas eventually lifts his gaze to stare at him.

“Are you happy?” 

Dean presses his mouth shut. Licks his lips. He takes just as long to answer.

“You know what,” he smiles. “I think I am.”

Cas smiles back at him, soft and genuine. The skin around his eyes crinkling tells more than the gentle upturn of his mouth. 

Dean swallows, nervously putting his beer down and turning it a few times until his fingers are wet with the condensation. 

“What, uh. What about you?” He swallows again. “You happy?”

What he really wants to ask, though, is if they were good. If, after recent events, they were still the same. If Cas was still fine with “just being.”

He’s quiet again. Dean thinks he deserves that, and tries to pay attention to the TV, but the voice in his head is too loud. Cas has to tap his knee to get his attention again.

“Hm?”

“I was saying,” he moves his hand back, “that I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift.”

Dean stares at him. “What are you talking about?”

Cas looks confused, like he’s about to repeat what he just said. Dean stops him short with a wave of his hand. 

“Dude, you just got back from the dead, alright? That’s—that’s gift enough to last me a lifetime. Don’t worry about a gift.”

Cas frowns, and Dean rolls his eyes. It’s another few moments of tense silence, until Dean breaks it, his heart pounding in his chest.

“But, uh,” he says, “I might have a gift for you.”

“Dean, we don’t share a birthday. It’s not customary to gift me something, especially when I haven’t given you—“

“Cas,” he groans, officially putting his beer aside and facing him. Cas’ features are lit up with the colors of the TV. Dean reaches a hand up to pluck confetti from his hair, a green piece that he’d been eyeing all night. Hesitating, he lets his hand fall to Cas’ face, smoothing over his cheek and jaw. The TV paints his cheekbone purple. Dean brushes his thumb over it. “Just...shut up and let me do this.” 

Cas tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in that way of his, and Dean thinks he looks perfect. When he dips forward and presses their lips together, it’s perfect, perfect, perfect. He’s warm, his face is burning, eyes almost watering when he pulls away.

Dean lets his forehead rest on Cas’, heartbeat still crazy. He closes his eyes. “We can have it, Cas. This. We can have this.”

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands, lifts it a little to bring them face to face again, so that he’s looking into Dean’s eyes.

“I’d like that, Dean,” he says, and his eyes are wet, too. Happy, Dean thinks.

“Your gift to me?” Dean manages, smile wobbly. He’s teasing, trying to bring down the weight of this without getting rid of all of it. He likes this type of adrenaline rush, different from any hunt he’s been on. Better.

Cas smiles. “I think technically it was you that gifted me, but, yes. My gift to you, if you’ll take it.”

“Gladly,” Dean says.

Cas hums back, brushing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. “Happy birthday, Dean.” He leaves a kiss on his forehead.

Happy. 

Dean thinks, for the first time, as he pulls more confetti from Cas’ hair, that it actually is. 

—

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-lamp @jellydeans @writtenmemxries @cestladean @randomblabbling @fluffiestlou @dreamnovak @weird-dorky-little-d @depressivedemonnightmaredean @castiels-pussy @friedchickenangelwings @galaxycastiel @destielle @dickspeightjrs @on-a-bender @organicpurplepants @casbelieves @samuelswinchester @spacegirlstuff @seffersonjtarship @winchester-novak @professorerudite @squintingg @holmesemrys @imnotrevealingmyname @mishha @good-things-do-happen-dean @angxlsgrxce @casandeans @castielscrookedtrenchcoat @destiel-in-its-natural-habitat @gracelesschoice @superduckbatrebel @iheardyourprayer @top13zepptraxx @that-one-fandom-chick @scoobydean @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh @maxguevra @cursed-or-not @i-think-im-humanbut-cant-besure @blazeinthedark @madilineskingdom @awolfnamedaliac @castee-yel @tearsofgrace @credentiast @fivefeetfangirl @my-favourite-hellatus @gray-is-neutral @sunflower-vol-28 @ensignabby @ar-bi-trary @lulu-zodiac @y-yo-a-ti-dumbass @castielology @nguyenxtrang @hermit-cas @supergaycas @deancasology @miadeline @save-the-sloths @goblinwritergay @theroguetranslator @imals18 @downtherabbitholeproductions

#fluff i think !! #again im bad at fluff but i tried!! #also wrote this SO quick so im sorry if it literally sucks lmao kdchdc #happy birthday dean !! #castee-yel #dee im trying out your tag!! :D #en joyyy #destiel #dean winchester #rambleoncas writing #oof its been a while since i've written somethin on her #e #skdfnsdjf #oops fucked up thAt tag lmao #supernatural #spn #roc original #b*destiel #my post #bookshelf

[sodomitecastiel]

Do you have any recommended spn fics? To be restored is consuming all of my non fenario brainspace

This is in no way an exhaustive list - @jewishcharliebradbury is the one to go for that - but these are some favorites of mine, please always heed their tags just in case!

Putting it under a readmore because I'm a wordy bastard:

Sky Verse by starandrea: Angelic civil war! The crispest, most in-character dialogue! Vast, sprawling worldbuilding! Dean and Cas get together and are very bad at it for a long time! This series obsesses me the way other people are obsessed with dta (which I have not read for fear of commitment but fully intend to eventually).

To Be Restored by serenetyfails: You mentioned this one already but it's worth repeating - it's my favorite trans spn fic that I didn't write myself. Cas's transmasc identity is handled so carefully and so competently, Dean flips out in a way that's both in character and still kind to him, and Sam and Rowena are wonderfully fleshed out. I think many people would look at the premise and worry it's either misogynistic or fetishy, but it's neither, it's such a love letter to Cas's well-earned masculinity. Also, I'm obsessed with Rowena knowing and being buddies with a lot of trans women witches :)

Talk Therapy by shara: This is one of my favorite 'Dean is bad at asking for things' fics, it deals with his inability to want things past what he can give to others really well. I also appreciate that not everything in their relationship is fixed just because they're together, although the amount they love each other is always obvious.

Epilogue by JayneL: A weird little time travel story that is NOT a fixit for endverse, but is exceptionally kind to endverse Cas anyway. It aches very badly. I remember it being pretty trippy but also having to sit and look at the ceiling a while after reading it.

The Love Story of the Runner Up by Margo_Kim: Cas dates a normal human man with a good soul for a little while before he gets with Dean. Both of them know it isn't for forever, but they look after each other anyway. Told through the lens of story-swapping between gay friends and written with so much care & love. (You can thank @okologie for finding this one and making me read it despite my reservations.)

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo: Everyone recommends this fic but it's for a reason. Probably the best post-retirement fic there is, and definitely helped me form the neural connections to write Fenario, haha, I can't recommend this one enough. The complicated Dean and Sam issues are held with just as much weight as the Dean and Cas ones, although both are handled gently.

you and me in the war of the end times by stickthelanding (@tallahasseemp3): Alma knocked it out of the park with this one. THEE shotgunning fic. I've reread it more times than I can count, it has the loveliest atmosphere. I want to gnaw on this prose, said with love!

A Drinking Song by Balder12: Endverse snapshot. This one is mostly just bone hurting juice but it's one of my favorite characterizations of them - sometimes I find that endverse stories either make Cas way too soft or fucked up in a way I find goes too far in a direction I don't agree with, this one feels pitch perfect.

Everyone Is Trying to Get to the Bar by Balder12: All time fave angel true form fic!!! It's deliciously weird and fun, definitely a mind-melter. I only read it the once but sometimes I think about it and get a funny little shiver.

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara: This is another 'universal favorite', but also for good reason. Extraordinarily tender, it's my personal favorite Cas-grows-a-garden post canon story, especially because it manages to write a jealousy plotline that doesn't make me want to bite and kill. Dean's voice is exactly right and everything unfurls with this tender inevitability, idk how else to describe it! It also ends on a final image that's so lovely it's seared into my brain.

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx by pantheon_of_discord: Nobody does vignettes like supernatural writers. I love the way the road feels in this one, and how carefully picked each moment is. A string of pearls, this fic.

There's Only One Sure Thing That I Know by blinkiesays: Dean and Cas get trapped in the midwest by a curse that doesn't let them leave the state, and they want to break it until they don't. Being trapped gives them an excuse to want to settle down, but the route they take to get there is, of course, circuitous. This one hurts a little because it takes place while Sam is dead, but it isn't gratuitous in its sadness. Sweet and melancholy.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo: FAVE FAVE FAVE FAVE. I push this one at everyone I can. I'm extremely picky about 'Dean's self loathing' fics, mainly because I think it can veer easily into melodrama, but this author weaves Dean's self hatred and his anger together very seamlessly, in a way that feels real to the show. Also, Cas is perfect.

sweeter coming from my hand by perilously: A story that I liked before Nov5 and withstood the test of time!! Dean and Cas get married/soul-bound in order to both remove the Mark of Cain and fix Cas's grace. Features a formative scene for me where Cas expresses worries about if he has a soul and Dean raps knuckles on his chest, going, "knock knock, sounds like a soul in there." If you like this one, perilously has many good fics that are just as in character.

On Labor by a_good_soldier: I very nearly couldn't finish this one, but not because it's bad, haha. The premise just makes me want to tear my clothes in mourning - Dean knows Cas is in love with him, after getting him back from the Empty, and decides that he should give him what he wants without realizing that he wants it too. Dean performatively dating Cas while trying to talk himself into liking it (not knowing that he does actually like it) is exactly the kind of convoluted bullshit Dean's internalized homophobia would do to him. Nauseating and spectacular. Sticks in your brain for weeks.

canticles by 2street2car: An excellent 'weird girl best friends' fic. After striking out at the brothel, Dean decides to treat Cas to the "first date experience" himself, since the guy might die the next day. To sum it up succinctly: the rituals are intricate. And dirty dancing is referenced!

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon: As the author states themself, this fic is a love letter to California - it's a road trip casefic that's so rooted in place, the setting is rich and lush and the atmosphere makes me ache, and not just because it's set in my home state! I saved this one for last because this is another prolific author who has many stories I come back to again and again (Sweet Home and Love: A Retrospective are particularly good), they really don't miss. Usually when I read fic, it's a mad dash to the finish, but I took my time with this one. I highly encourage you to do the same :)

#dear god. ok. this got long #if u want more recs i mean it alie is Thee fic reccer i trust #but these are some gems i carry around w me :) #nathaniel.txt #answered #fic rec

[clairenatural]

destiel, some sort of au, 1.4k of pre-marriage stress turned to fluff that I wrote at 4am. enjoy!

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, and Dean jerks his head up towards it.

Don’t be Cas, don’t be Cas, don’t be—

“Dean?” Cas calls.

Fuck.

He debates telling him to go away. He debates not answering. Neither will work.

“Sam send you?” He settles for instead, and he hates how shaky his voice sounds.

“Yes.”

“I told him not to.”

“I know. We decided I should come anyway.”

Dean almost laughs at that—at that absurd response to this absurd situation. It comes out more like a cough. He stares down at his dress pants, his shoes. They’re new. It’s all new.

When he speaks again, his voice is soft, and he refuses to look at the door. “What are we doing here, man?”

There’s a sigh from the other side. “Theoretically, we’re getting married, but—” a soft thump, as Cas leans against the wood, “—I suppose that’s really up to you.”

Dean grimaces. There’s no anger in his fiancé’s voice. No malice. Concern, maybe, but he’s doing a good job wrangling it back into the same even tone he uses with his panicked undergrads. Dean hates it, being talked to like some scared kid, but he is hiding in a bathroom at his own wedding, so. He suspects he deserves it.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, so quietly he’s not sure if Cas will hear him. For a long minute, the only response he gets is the swish of fabric as the other man slides down the door, the telltale clacking of dress shoes as he situates himself on the hardwood. Then—

“I love you,” Cas starts, and it’s so much more than Dean deserves at the moment that he suddenly feels like he might cry. “You know that, right?”

Dean blinks. “I—yeah. Yeah, of course I do.” He shifts, and suddenly the toilet seat is digging uncomfortably into his thighs. “I love you, too.”

“Good,” there’s another soft thump as Cas leans his head back against the door, and Dean hates how relieved he sounds. “Okay. So—” his voice is less steady, now, and a pang of guilt shoots through Dean’s chest. What is he doing. “If you don’t want to do this, we won’t.”

Dean had already pushed himself off the toilet seat, but now he freezes. “What?”

“We can go home, right now. We won’t get the deposits back, but I’m sure our guests would enjoy the free party, and we—”

“Wait,” Dean has crossed the room, now. “You’d do that for me?” There’s a piece of Cas’ coat peeking under the door frame. Dean stares at it. “And we’d—”

“Order pizza, and pretend it’s a normal Saturday, and talk about this in the morning.” It’s not the we’d be fine he was hoping for, but it’s better than he expected.

Dean sighs and turns, mirroring Cas in sliding down his own side of the door to settle on the tile floor. “You deserve so much better than that, man.”

He knows Cas is tilting his head. “Is that what this is about? What I deserve?”

Dean pauses. “No,” he lies.

“Okay. Is it about what you deserve?”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Dean snaps, and then immediately feels like the scum of the Earth.

Cas’ weary sigh will haunt him for the rest of his days. “I’m not. I’m just—I want to understand.”

I want to understand why you’re hiding in a bathroom on our wedding day. Why you’re doing this to me. To us.

Yeah, Dean does too.

Before he can respond there’s a flurry of footsteps, followed by a rushed whisper and what sounds like gesturing before the footsteps recede.

“Sam?” he hazards a guess.

“He’s just worried.”

“He always is.” Dean pauses. “Are guests getting worried, too?”

“…Yes,” Cas answers slowly, and then too quickly. “But they don’t matter. This isn’t about them.”

Dean groans, pulls his knees up to his chest, and buries his face in his hands. “’Course they matter,” he grumbles into his palms. “That’s why we’re here,” by here he means the fancy mansion estate Naomi had wanted them to rent.

“Dean, you know I would have married you in a courthouse.” He sounds puzzled, now, which is at least a nice departure from exhausted/crushed/dangerously calm.

Dean does not know. “What?”

Cas hums. “Or in a roadside chapel. Or in one of those Vegas Elvis churches.”

He feels incredibly dumb for not knowing this.

Cas is still talking. “And I would have waited 5, 10 years.” He pauses, thinking. “20, even.” 

Dean feels a little breathless. “You were serious, earlier? When you said…if I say no, we’ll go home. Just like that, everything’s cool?”

“Just like that,” Cas agrees. “Although ‘cool’ is a strong word.” At least he’s being honest. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “My point is, Dean, that I am already yours in every way that matters, and I will remain so for as long as you’ll have me. Wedding today or not.”

Dean groans and leans his head back against the door. “That simple, huh?” he grumbles, even as his brain is yelling yes, it is.

“I think that’s part of the point,” comes the reply, and there’s a smile in his voice for the first time in the conversation.

“...Me too,” Dean replies after a beat, and it’s as soft as his earlier apology but this time he knows Cas can hear him. “You gotta know that, Cas.”

“I do,” Cas confirms, and it’s less unsure than Dean was afraid it would be.

Dean starts to smile back but catches himself, instead dragging a hand across his face, because despite these warm fuzzies—“You’re still gonna regret this.” It’s a neutral remark. Like a fact.

He can almost hear the eye roll.

“You’ve been saying that for our entire relationship, and yet I am not the one hiding from our wedding in the bathroom,” Cas replies, and Dean would call him out for being a smartass if he didn’t have an irritatingly valid point.

“Yeah, but—” he starts a futile attempt to argue, but Cas cuts him off.

“I could sit here and list off all the reasons why I’m here—why I’m choosing to be here—but I have some very well thought-out vows on the subject—” Dean is suddenly acutely aware of the paper tucked into his own suit jacket “—and I’m prepared to spend the rest of our lives convincing you that you deserve me, and I deserve you, and we deserve us.”

And that…..that actually sounds pretty good.

Okay.

Okay, yeah.

He rolls this over in his head for a moment before nodding and preparing to stand, to apologize, to—something. But Cas obviously takes the silence as there being something (else) wrong, because after a few seconds of shuffling his fingers slide under the door.

He’s (awkwardly, as much as the tight space will allow) holding his engagement ring.

He took off his engagement ring, and now he’s giving it back, and Dean’s not sure what could have gone horribly wrong in those few seconds of silence but this is obviously the other shoe dropping, already¸ and—

“Will you marry me?” Cas asks, voice muffled from where his face is obviously pressed against the wood.

Dean freezes. He stares at the ring. He remembers buying it. He remembers giving it to Cas in the first place. And now he's hiding in the bathroom on their wedding day and his perfect dork of a fiancé, who he will never deserve but who loves him so much anyway, is...proposing back.

He picks it up and puts it on his own finger, and it looks out of place and it doesn’t fit right, but suddenly he’s grinning so much that he doesn’t care. He stands quickly and yanks the door open, then reaches down to pull his startled fiancé up off the floor and into his arms.

“Yes?” Cas asks, pushing back just enough to be able to breathe, and suddenly the whole weight of the situation hits Dean at once. His grin falters.

“Yes—yeah, of course. I’m giving you the ring back, obviously, but—Christ, Cas, I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

Cas puts a finger to his lips, cutting off the babbling. “Wedding first, apologies after.”

Dean nods. Cas lets his hand drop but Dean catches it, presses a kiss to his fingertips, and links it with his own. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. Cas reaches out for his face with his free hand and smooths his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone.

“I love you,” he says, very seriously.

“I know,” Dean smiles, and it’s only a bit nervous. He risks leaning down to press a kiss to Cas’ forehead. “Come on." When he steps away he also steps forward, tugging Cas by the hand down the upstairs hallway. “Let’s go get married.”

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #fic #truly i do not know what this is #i wrote it at 4am so ur getting it at 4am #my words #1k+ words

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

a/n: I decided to make today’s a nifty lil college au :) so I just thought I would include this note!

“Cas?” Dean called through the apartment, “You here?”

No answer.

“Dammit,” Dean muttered, pulling out his phone and calling Cas. He hadn’t been able to find him anywhere since this morning.

This morning. It had been an accident--Dean had asked Cas about the schedule for the trip they were going on this weekend with friends, and Cas said he had a screenshot of it, so Dean had opened his phone, a normal occurrence, since they were best friends. They both knew each other’s passcodes and there were no secrets between them. Or so Dean had thought. 

Instead, when he got Cas’s photos, he noticed something he hadn’t seen before: an album named dean <3, which was full of just...pictures of Dean. Pictures he’d never seen--blurry silhouettes of him watching TV, him flicking water at Cas while they did the dishes, his back while he was hunched over a textbook at the kitchen table. 

Dean had stared up at Cas, who seemed to be able to read exactly what he’d seen from his expression (because of course Cas could, Cas knew Dean better than anyone). Cas had snatched his phone back and straight-up left the apartment. 

Dean hadn’t been able to find him anywhere--he wasn’t at their favorite coffeeshop, lurking in the engineering building’s labs (Cas was an English major, but he was also the president of their university’s beekeeping club, and the engineering professors let him build hives and boxes in the lab), eating at the union, lounging in the sunshine in the quad, or, now, in their apartment.

Dean waited for Cas to pick up the phone, and then realized that he could faintly hear Cas’s ringtone (AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long, which Dean had set as a prank and Cas had never changed) coming from Cas’s room.

“Jackass,” Dean muttered, hanging up and going to pound on Cas’ door.

“Go away,” Cas replied, voice muffled. 

“Nope.” Dean shoved open the door to reveal Cas laying face-down on his bed, with his honeybee blanket Dean had gotten him for Christmas last year (it was impossibly soft and part of Dean always thought about stealing it) pulled halfway over him. Dean went to sit on the edge of the bed and yanked the blanket off of Cas.

“Can’t you see that I’m mortified?” Cas said, voice still muffled, and Dean shoved him until Cas was laying on his side. Cas squeezed his eyes shut.

“What’s your plan?” Dean asked, “You’re just gonna never look at me again?”

“Why are you even here? You’re supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am?” Dean said incredulously.

Cas cracked open an eye. “You’re not?”

“No, asshole. I wanna know what you meant by having all those pictures. Was that a friendly heart? Or something else?”

“A friendly heart? Do you have a photo album of Charlie with a heart?”

“Cas, Charlie’s a lesbian. It would be a ridiculously unrequited love.”

Cas opened his other eye. “Okay, how about Meg? Benny? Jo?”

“...No.”

“Me either.” Cas rolled over to face the wall. “Thus, mortification.”

“I’m going to stab you,” Dean said. “Stop being impossible. I never said I was mad. You just left. For the record--” He unlocked his phone (his lock screen was him and Cas at a football game, which they mostly went to so they could hang out with friends and test their ability to sneak beer into the stadium) and went to his photos before shoving his phone into Cas’s face.

Because there was an album named cas <3 with the same kind of pictures. 

“Let’s try this conversation again--” Dean started, but he was interrupted by Cas sitting up and kissing him. 

Well, this worked too.

Maybe even better than talking.

#maypromptseries #offbeatwrites #prompt: photographs #sorry this is SO cheesy!!!!!! #uhhh how do I tag peopel #people #flowersforcastag #userstarry #usershey #kashmircastiel