#is them retiring to a bobby like life where they help young hunters

[demonmary]

so. john kills mary au.

important canon notes : there is no yellow eyed demon. john and mary were heaven-arranged with the help of anna as mary’s protector to make sure that sam and dean were conceived.

once sam is born, anna’s watch is ended officially. but she’s fallen for mary and mary for her so she stays close by. she does not trust john. things are getting more and more volatile between him and mary. he’s getting physical. anna has been warned not to interfere, mary’s safety isn’t important anymore - sam and dean are already born. heaven stepped away.

so one night - things get bad. john is off the fucking rails and he’s dead sober and that’s worse somehow and god. he’s angry. and mary’s never seen him like this before and she’s scared and he’s so mad. and he has his hands around her neck and she’s dying. she’s dying. she’s dying and she doesn’t know why but she’s praying too. and with her last breath she calls for anna but it’s too late.

when anna gets there it’s hell. she sees john’s anger and she matches it. she doubles it. she sees his fury and she turns it righteous and she’s screaming with her true voice and john’s bleeding from the ears and crying blood and she slashes at his face with her angel blade and cuts him from cheek to forehead and he doesn’t even know what hit him. one minute he’s standing over his dead wife’s body and the next he’s pinned to the ceiling and this angel is going to kill him. she’s in his head too - replaying scenes of death and destruction from the war mixed in with mary in her wedding dress. the first time he split mary’s lip. mary in the hospital bed with dean in her arms. the time he threw mary down the stairs. mary with child. the first time he strangled mary. mary mother mary. mary dead mary. he can’t focus through the pain - the cut on his face burns like fire and he’s held to the ceiling by anna and the screams couldn’t get louder and then they do. anna loses focus on john and he falls to the floor and there’s burning blue white pure light and wing flashes and angel blades clashing and then john is burning. the room is filled with smoke but it’s. otherwise empty. anna’s gone. whatever came and took her is gone. and there’s just fire. john runs out of his room with mary and leaves her body behind and finds dean in sam’s nursery with him , hiding from the noise and crying and he tells dean to run. and they run. sam still in deans arms even though john’s there to carry them both.

john throws himself into hunting. not to avenge mary but for his own revenge. against the angel that dared to interfere. against the angel that left him scarred. against the angel that he tells sam and dean killed their mother. he keeps his boys close for a minute while he’s on the run from the law bc of the whole. strangled his wife and burnt the house down thing. there’s no I Need To Protect My Kids From Monsters delusion. really - he knows they need to be protected from him, actually, especially so young - so as soon as he meets bobbyandrufus he dumps the boys at the salvage yard for as normal of a childhood as two mostly retired hunters can give ‘em.

sam is actually really into the lore from a young age. he never knew his mom - not really - so he throws himself into learning as much about their family line and angels / the supernatural as possible. he digs into bobby’s stuff all the time , “helps out” with research even tho he’s soooo little. he asks so many questions.

dean doesn’t give a fucKkkkk about that. he’s enrolled in school and loves it. he’s playing sports. he’s making friends. he’s living his best little boy life. until he’s 12 and john deems dean old enough to enlist into john’s war on heaven. deans pissy at first because. this isn’t his life, where’s sammy why can’t he finish the school year . but john makes sure he knows the stakes. makes sure dean knows this is about killing that angel that burned down their family home and scarred john and sent them running. and dean is like yes. we have to avenge mom. and john is like ???? OH. oh yeah. oh yeah her too. this is about your mother obviously yeah. the angel that killed mom. since i didn’t do that that’d be crazy.

and for four years - dean and sam are separated while john trains him. and thinking about the little dean that leaves bobby’s house with a little suitcase waving goodbye to sam. and how different dean is when they come back four years later for sam. and how resentful of being left out and behind and deserted sam would feel. how he doesn’t even recognize the soldier their father turned dean into. they know not to ask about mom because john gets mad but they don’t start picking up on how Off it all is until they’re older.

canon timeline picks back up. john hunting with kids in tow. obviously no azazel , no psychic sam, - focus on anna and angels. for the most part he never encounters any bc john is shit at hunting. but once sam fucks off to college (major in theology!) he and dean stay in touch behind john’s back. sam is doing research for dean - they start picking up that john is hiding shit from them. stanford era dean hunting alone, but calling on sam for help tracking down anna. he finally figures out how to summon her

ohhh the confrontation there is soooo juicy good to me. anna in a ring of fire, dean standing across from the thing he thought killed his mother. he needs to be sure before he calls john so he calls her out. anna cannot remember the last time she was this angry (lies. it was when she was too late to save mary. it was when she was stopped from avenging mary’s death and punished for interfering). anna’s face falls and she’s sick at the thought of mary’s sons growing up thinking she was the monster. growing up idolizing their father. raised by a murderer. she sees mary in deans face though and she calms herself down and she. explains to him everything. she shows him. everything. and here’s how dean kills john can win. i've also thought about how that Confrontation would go. wild things wild thoughts perfect horrible aus

#john kills mary au #long post #abuse tw #lets talk about this i want to talk about my aus lets talk about my aus #zo.txt #my post about this au got more notes than a lot of my silly posts and it was literally just “john killed mary au” basically #maybe this isn't as niche as i thought it would be

[tearsofgrace]

cuz… cuz everyone knows john and mary are fan favorites

#salt #wtaf #like #BRUH #give us eiTHER the young sam and dean reboot #or preferably #a post canon #dean gets resurrected #sam isn’t even in it #dean and cas hunt for a while #then the end of the series #is them retiring to a bobby like life where they help young hunters #also they’re in love #BUT NO GIVE US A FUCKING JOHN AND MARY REBOOT WHY DONT YOU #WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY EVEN GONNA DO #SHOW US JOHN THE ABUSIVE MECHANIC?? #THIS ISNT A GODDAMN SHOW #GO RUIN CANON MORE THAN YOU ALREADY HAVE

[dotthings]

Let’s talk about why Dean dancing with a lamp is subtext, but it’s subtext that supports textual arcs. Dean dancing with a lamp is not random. Meta on why Dean dancing with a lamp is part of the build of a textual arc for Dean, thematically, which also connects to his relationship with Cas. This symbolic moment being tacitly about Destiel will only feel like reaching if you ignore context, ignore canon, ignore long arcing, ignore textual material surrounding it. This isn’t just me talking about a ship, this is an important arc for Dean himself emotionally and the way canon’s working, Cas has become the star player in this specific emotional Dean arc about yearning. 

Here are some canon quotes. I could just leave these here and not write another word of meta because the canon wrote it for me. But I’ve added some further commentary to spell out clearly what I’m getting at.

Dean in 8.14 “Trial and Error” by Andrew Dabb:

“You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't. But I tell you what I do know – it's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get.”

Dean in 10.16 “Paint it Black” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:

“You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it....Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.”

Sam and Dean in 11.04 “Baby” by Robbie Thompson:

SAM: Really? You don't . . . Ever want something more? DEAN: I'm sorry, have you met us? We're batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don't ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But . . . Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

Sam and Dean in 13.23 “Let the Good Times Roll” by Andrew Dabb:

DEAN: But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls. SAM: You talking about retiring? You? DEAN: If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah. And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man.

Sam and Dean in 15.08 “Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:

DEAN: Look, man, I didn't want to say anything, okay, 'cause I was kind of in in a bad place, and, uh, yeah, I didn't want to jinx it or whatever, but, you know, I tried the family thing, right? SAM: Yeah, me too. And that's not for us. DEAN: No, not really. But I'm just saying if it was to work, Eileen, you know, she gets it. She gets us. She gets the life. She's hot. SAM: Dean. I mean, I'm not even- DEAN: Look, all I'm saying is you- you could do worse, okay? And she could certainly do better. Like, so much better. I'm happy for you, Sammy.

Dean and Garth in 15.10 “The  Heroes’ Journey” written by Andrew Dabb:

DEAN: You know, I gotta say, aside from pincushion in there… this is pretty nice. GARTH: Yeah, better than I ever thought I'd get. I mean, hunting -- I figured I'd be dead before I'm 40. You know, go out young and pretty. But now I've got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out.

Dean in 15.10 “The Heroes’ Journey” by Andrew Dabb:

Dean, wistful, watching through the window as Garth and Bess dance: You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be.

Ok, let those roll around in your brain for moment. 

Now: CONTEXT. CONTEXT. CONTEXT.

There’s this long running arc about maybe Sam and Dean could each find a significant other, not white picket fence, but...something, with someone already in the life, who gets their life. There’s Dean’s move from despairing and believing the only ending he could have, the only ending any hunter could have, is dying with a gun in hand, to Dean’s enthusiasm for the concept of retirement, Dean’s wistfulness about finding a significant other, for what he thinks he can’t have, and he starts the cycle all over again, if he can’t have it, then he wants Sam to have it, so Dean encourages Sam with Eileen. Saileen, the Dean-blessed, Dean-approved Sam ship. Dean ships it. And that is how the canon is trending, complete with Sam and Eileen kissing goodbye and saying “this is real” and even God himself saying their feelings were real, “that was all you,” even if God manipulated events around them. Which is an overt mirror to Dean and Cas and Dean’s expressly stated doubts about what’s real and what isn’t, and Cas telling Dean “we are.” 

Much the way Sam has been witness to Destiel, and has often pointed out Dean’s Cas feelings. Dean’s got a front row seat to Saileen and approves; Sam’s had a front row seat to Destiel and approves. 

Let’s throw in Robert Berens’ work in The Trap here, since that’s relevant to this specific topic as well, because why did Sam and Dean in the potential future timeline where they’d killed Chuck give up and cave in to their vampire instincts? The world being overwhelmed with monsters...and losing Eileen and losing Cas. It’s right there in the dialogue. I’ll give you the quote and everything:

Sam and Dean in 15.09 “The Trap” by Robert Berens:

SAM: You want to quit? What's happened to you, Dean? Ever since -- DEAN: Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we've ever cared about? Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy? Ever since I had to bury him in a Ma'lak box? Ever since then? Yeah. You know why? 'Cause the monsters -- they're everywhere. Everywhere! What we do -- it's not even Hunting anymore. It's whack-a-mole. We don't even save people. Every friend we've ever had is either dead, or they got wise and they packed it in. SAM: Jody's still fighting, and Bobby -- DEAN: Bobby has a death wish, and you know it. And Jody -- ever since what happened to Donna and the girls, she does, too. And after Eileen... so do you.

“Ever since” Dean had to bury Cas in a Ma’lak box. “After Eileen...so do you.” 

So there’s this canonical long, long thread across multiple authors (and those weren’t even all the quotes, I’m sure people could dig up more) about Dean in particular yearning towards finding a significant other, some contentment, with someone who already is in the hunting life, who gets it, who understands.  

An episode that flat out shows how losing their significant others is the final straw that rips out Sam and Dean’s last will to fight, and they lose themselves, and after they’re turned into vampires, they just...give into the darkness. Where Sam gives up their shot at destroying the big bad because losing everyone they love is too high a cost. Where losing Cas makes Dean lose hope, where losing Eileen sends Sam into a death wish mindset. Sam and Dean don’t just need each other. That’s not canon, it never has been.

And then right after that, along comes meta episode The Heroes’ Journey. Sorry if you don’t like The Heroes’ Journey, but it’s what the canon did, it’s textual, along with everything else I’ve pointed out here, and in among the crackish humor are some real emotional narrative points. 

In The Heroes’ Journey, Dean gets to see Garth’s life. Garth found his significant other, Bess, and she’s another werewolf. Now, Garth’s life resembles the traditional white picket fence idea a lot more than what Team Free Will are headed for. Garth has a big house with a porch, and he’s a dentist. He’s also a werewolf and his wife is a werewolf and his kids are werewolves because Bess is a pureblood werewolf, Garth didn’t exactly leave the life, and he helps Sam and Dean on a case. But nothing’s been indicating to me that anyone in Team Free Will is headed for that kind of settling down, with a house, becoming a dentist. However, the canon has been practically shouting now, as we near final episodes of SPN, to make the point about a desirable outcome--some kind of stability, contentment, and a significant other. Dean gets a front row seat to seeing a hunter can have that. Garth’s a hunter who turned into a werewolf and he can have that. 

When EP’s talk about how they aren’t headed for a white picket fence or driving off into the sunset or settling down, none of that rules out them finding...something...with someone, and some form of stability and contentment.  Nope, I can’t really imagine them in the suburbs becoming dentists. But canon sure is putting up big neon arrows to...something. Think outside the box. This isn’t about the white picket fence. 

And in The Heroes’ Journey, Dean, conked out on the good gas so Garth can fix his teeth, has a trippy dream where he dances with a lamp.

Rewatch the ep. Look at how the dance is choreographed not just the use of light, because that’s a clue too. The whole dance could have been Dean and Garth being dancing bros, but Garth fades off the stage, and Dean dances alone...until he grabs the standing lamp. In a season where Dean and Cas’s relationship is an A-plot, define it how you like, it’s A-plot. Their breakup and their reconciliation, which played like a marital breakup and reconciliation, are tied to major mytharc beats. In a season where a long-running textual theme about Dean’s developing hope for retirement and his wistfulness about “things...people...feelings...” is getting further play. Where Dean and Cas’s relationship continues to be one of the show’s most central ones.

Dean dances with a lamp. While his emotionally fraught, intense close relationship with Cas--A BEING MADE OF LIGHT--has a long-running arc and recently more and more textual level content spelling out the sublimated romantic interest in small words, while there’s an arc about Dean’s yearning for that stability, contentment, a significant other.

CONTEXT. 

We don’t think Destiel’s “going canon” because Dean dances with a lamp, it’s that Dean dancing with a lamp is kinda loud serving as reflection of canon textual arcing. Sometimes subtext adds a layer. Sometimes subtext is directly tied to the surface layers, an echo, a highlighter.

I’ll just be over here, crying because Dean danced with a lamp.

#Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #Destiel meta #spn meta #spn #supernatural #Saileen

[sinnabonka]

YES. Sam & Dean get yeeted out of heaven by a vengeful Chuck. Castiel disobeys Jacks order not to get involved and heads straight to earth to find and protect them (from Chuck & the few remaining Naomi loyalist angels intent on revenge.) TFW reunites! Stuff happens! (Fight scenes probably!) In the end Dean & Sam are faced with the choice of returning to heaven or living on. The choice is harder for Sam because he's torn between wanting to return to heaven (his wife/kids) or starting over again.

Okay, nonny, I’m not sober enough to write you a fic, but not drunk enough to not have this conversation either.

So.

If we are talking about Sam and Dean coming back to Earth in 2025, we should consider them rewriting the future, and Sam kinda reliving his life, you know?

I bet he still ends up marrying Eileen, but with Dean still around, naming their kid after him seems stupid (like it was not stupid in the first place lol, burn those damned overalls), so they name him Robert. Instead of calling him Bobby, though, they call him Rob. There’s only one (well, actually, two) Bobby in their life and it should stay this way.

Also, with Dean around, Sam is not mourning him for fifty years, he has better things to do with his life. He finishes what they’ve started, builds the network of hunters all over the world.

Maybe he’s working with politicians toward the total supernatural awareness (people are taught about monsters, angels and demons etc in schools, everyone has a basic knowledge about this stuff, like how to exorcise a demon, how to kill a ghoul, what sulfur smells like lol).

Maybe he talks Garth into organizing a monster support hotline, so everyone turned receives a guidance on how not to be dangerous to humans, how to live their lives the fullest without hurting anyone and, most importantly, themselves.

Maybe when Rob is all grown up, Sam passes him the whole thing and retires, travels around the world with Eileen in a R.V. or something.

What about Cas and Dean? They spend the first few years helping out Sam with the hunter network, teach young hunters, occasionally get involved in bigger things in the field, but unlike Sam, both of them treat it as a temporary gig. It’s the life’s work of Sammy, not them. They are just helping out the family.

They move to the small city somewhere with a mild climate and lots of greenery. Dean gets a job in school, gets to teach phys ed or shop class or something. He likes this job, because he gets to spend time with kids (kids are simple, they are true, and they listen and absorb everything he’s got to say) and this thing he’s doing with their heads is meaningful.

Sam could feel like he has to save the whole world, but Dean is fine with saving a few troubled teens here and there. When he’s not teaching, he’s sweating his ass off in garage, fixing exclusive muscle cars.

Cas gets into gardening. After a while his garden is big enough to start selling some fruits and vegetables on the market. He keeps the best ones for Dean to cook something with, though. Of course Dean bakes, when he gets in the mood, and in this life he gets all the pies he wants.

Jack visits occasionally, and when he does, Dean can’t contain himself, and with his hand tightly wrapped around kid’s shoulders, he’s telling every single neighbor (or even a stranger, who cares) that it’s their son.

He never corrects people who assume Jack is away to high school or college, because where Jack is, he’s got lots of learning to do, too.

A bunch of angry angels find out about Chuck being the reason every single sick shit ever happened, and so they kill him and make a deal with the new Death for them to shove him into the empty. That’s all on the topic of Chuck Shurley.

With everyone aware of angels, demons and all other flavors of supernatural, the world becomes what it has never been, a safe place. This is the world Jack promised Cas, the one where all creatures live (or at least try to) side by side in peace and security, and it is built by the hands of Winchesters. By the hands of humans themselves.

#spn #destiel #supernatural #deancas #saileen #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #the15yearshow #destiel fanfic #destiel ficlet #kinda #spn fic #chuck shurley #spn alternative ending #sinnabonka writes #sinnabonka answers

[barryallenisravenclaw]

This whole show they've been trying to show how Dean is similar to John (doesn't talk feelings, focus on the job, puts family before self)

when he's actually way more like Mary (caretaker role, craves domesticity and getting out of hunting, has literally died to save Sam (tho John did that too for Dean ig))

They even paralleled him to Ellen a little (when he had that dream of opening a hunter bar)

But with the end of the show, I realized something. They ended up making Dean more like Bobby than either of his biological parents.

Bobby wanted kids but was scared to have kids of his own because of what an abusive ass his own dad was to him and his mom. Dean clearly wanted kids as evidenced by every interaction he had with one, but something never shown on screen caused him to lash out at Jack for the possibility. Still, Bobby half adopted Sam and Dean and the boys all adopted Jack.

Bobby was an alcoholic, far more so than we ever saw John drinking. Dean is also quite clearly dependent on alcohol in tough times and we see them berating each other about this various times throughout the show.

Bobby himself sacrificed for Dean when he started using a wheelchair. Dean sacrifices his well-being for family constantly.

The way Bobby views himself is similar to Dean, too. A large part of Bobby's mental health issues are centered around the idea that he's a grumpy old coot who could never be of use to anyone so he might as well yell at anyone who comes close and do the only thing he's good for in his old age- help other hunters from his home base. Bobby also has a mountain of regrets that we see in his death episode including, but not limited to, his perceived guilt in "failing" other hunters and getting them or their loved ones killed. Dean definitely has that same guilt riding in his head, but if we take out the age-related terms my first point also reflects Dean's state of mind. Dean doesn't view himself in any form of positive light, largely seeing himself as just another grunt for the hunter army who will one day inevitably die for the cause

(Which is why I hated the finale so much)

But if we ignore the finale and think about where it should have gone, where it appeared to be going, we see more similarities there too.

Bobby became a hunter when his wife Karen died from demon possession and he was so bereft that he never remarried. Dean's most significant other, Cas, died due to a supernatural entity, too. Dean was so upset each time Cas died that we saw a marked decrease in his flirting and one night stands until it all but disappeared as he (we assume) finally realized what his true feelings were. Cas's final on-screen death left Dean once again with no purpose but to continue to hunt and one day die for the cause as he always expected.

But (no offense Jackles) Dean isn't as young as he used to be. If we move ahead five years (again, ignoring the finale), ten, fifteen, the only way for Dean to continue to hunt would be to become the new Bobby. This is even a concept which has been brought up by other characters Garth within the show, proving that it's not only possible, but highly probable that without some other motivation or drive in life, Bobby is exactly what Dean was going to become.

TL;DR Bobby is what Dean would have become if he had lived past the finale without Cas. We know that Bobby was depressed, suicidal for a time, and therefore living that exact life in that exact way is not something the audience should cheer for. Instead, we should see him being a happy version of Bobby, someone who can do what Bobby did but alongside a man he loves and therefore living a life he enjoys.

THAT SAID:

I think Sam has a much stronger connection to being the "new Bobby" and Dean should have legit retired in a small town with his husband Cas and they all lived a long happy life.

Pretty much everything I listed about Dean's similarities to Bobby can be said for Sam too, just with less development for the "happy Bobby" idea because they didn't develop Sam/Eileen enough on camera.

EILEEN SHOULD HAVE HAD SO MUCH MORE SCREEN TIME!!!

Edit: FUCK and Ellen is a widow, too, all grumpy and shit since her husband died and protective as hell about their kid! Dean does That Too!

#anyway rant over #most of this made sense #right? #supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #castiel #spn meta #bobby singer #sam winchester #eileen leahy #sam x eileen #legit tho tell me if I'm wrong #they paralleled this to both brothers so hard #and I'm not enough of a #Sam girl #to have noticed that aspect immediately #but I stg #that's literally what they were planning for the ending #dabb could not have fucked it up this hard #his hand was tipped i say #tipped!!!

[darkfannibal]

I realized something. After 15x19, I want to see Dean grieve Cas, and look for ways to get him out of the Empty. When he realizes there isn’t anything he can do, I want him to move on and live (no piece of rebar, fuck that).

He would start out drunk and sad, being frequently admonished by Sam about his bad habits. He would cry out for Jack to bring him back, but after a while, he’d realize it doesn’t work that way. So he takes what Cas said about him to heart, he decides to become the man Cas told him he is.

At first he and Sam continue hunting monsters, working together with Eileen, Jody, Donna and all of the others. They take down a lot of them, but after a while Sam and Eileen decide to focus on building a family too.

Dean is over the moon when Eileen announces she’s pregnant, and when Sam decides to name their little girl Cassandra, he doesn’t know how to feel. When he first sees his niece, he just knows he’ll love her more than anything.

“Hey Cass,” is the first thing he says to her, and it almost doesn’t hurt anymore.

The three of them stop hunting, leaving the bunker and its legacy in the capable hands of Donna and Claire. Dean often stops in to help them out with some of the more taxing hunts, while Sam and Eileen are only a phone call away when there’s research to be done.

Dean has a steady job first as a mechanic, but as he shows real promise and he knows how to deal with people, he finds himself taking on more and more responsibilities as his boss thinks about retirement. He once helped him get rid of a poltergeist and as a thanks, his boss leaves him the business. Business is blooming, for a few years Dean’s focused on his work and his life.

He often checks in with Sam and Eileen. He takes Cass on trips to Disneyland and The Grand Canyon, and they have loads of barbecues and family outings.

He forms a special connection with Claire after telling her exactly what happened to Cas in the bunker. For a while the two of them did more research on the Empty, but they still come up with nothing. That is when Dean truly accepts that Cas is gone and won’t come back. In a way, Claire’s the only one who understands how much losing Cas has hurt him, so she’s the only one he talks to sometimes.

Life goes on. Dean finds peace and happiness in his job, his family and friends. He’s an awesome uncle to Cass, often helping her hide things from her parents, but never the serious stuff. When he catches her outside smoking when she’s 16, he does tell her off and gives her a lecture about how bad it is for her health. She shrugs, but Dean never catches her again. Whether it’s because his words hit home or that’s she’s gotten smarter about hiding it, he never knows.

At 76, he dies of a heart disease, surrounded by the people he loves the most. Sam and Eileen are there, and so are Cass and her girlfriend and Claire and Kaia (who have been married for a while). It’s a sad and tearful goodbye, but Dean knows his body is done for, he’s ready to let go. After all, he succeeded in being the man Cas believed him to be, and Claire tells him again right before he passes away.

His family throws him a hunter’s funeral like the one Asa Fox got, with lots of people telling stories about him, good music and lots of beer. Many of the stories told center around young and reckless Dean, the one who would have given his life for anyone, but Sam also tells them about how Dean grew old and happy, because of this one angel who saw his value and fell irrevocably in love with him. It’s a goodbye and a celebration of his life, just like he’d always thought it would be.

While Sam and the others are celebrating, Dean arrives in heaven. There’s Bobby welcoming him with a beer. Bobby looks as old as he was when he died, but when Dean looks down, he sees a younger version of himself. Bobby then explains to him that your subconscious chooses the form you take in heaven, and that no one knows how it happens. Jack has kept his word and leaves everyone to their free will, he’s hands off. He does pass by the Roadhouse every other week to try out one of Ellen’s delicious home made pies though.

When Bobby tells him Jack rebuilt heaven and Cas helped, Dean shuts down. He can’t process the emotions coursing through him at the thought of Cas being saved and not coming to see him. Bobby can see the anger build up, but he puts his hand on Dean’s arm to calm him down.

“That’s the one thing Jack changed, Dean. Angels are no longer allowed to come down to earth, not even for a visit, unless they are prepared to fall and start life as a baby, effectively wiping out all their memories of their angelic existence.”

Bobby looks to his side, where the door to the Roadhouse opens and Cas appears.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Bobby takes a long swig of his beer and gently pushes Dean up from the bench.

Dean’s face falls when he notices Cas for the first time. He takes two large steps and flings himself into the angel’s arms.

In the 35 years since their goodbye in that store room, Dean has accepted that he could and wanted to fall in love with a man. He even had a few short relationships, both with men and women, but he has always known they would never live up to the memory of Cas so he just never bothered with romance anymore and ended up finding happiness in other things in life. But now, there’s no need to deny himself any longer like he did when he was young. He gently cups Cas’ face and kisses him like he’s wanted to do for years.

When they come up from the kiss, Cas rests his forehead against Dean’s and smiles softly.

“Nothing is worth losing my memories of you, so I chose to remain here and wait for you. I’m proud of you, Dean.”

They both smile and hug again before making their way into the Roadhouse to reconnect with their friends and family.

Dean knows Sam, Eileen, Cass and Claire will be along when their time comes. They have all the time in the world. He grabs Cas’ hand and tangles their fingers together so no one would get the wrong idea. He’s lead a happy life, and now he’s entering the next chapter and things are definitely looking good.

#destiel #finale fix it of sorts #still ignoring 15x20 but I still stole a few things I liked #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #disgustingly happy ever after even for me

[sylvanfreckles]

If You Love Me (FebuWhump 28)

Fandom: Supernatural Summary: Jack brings Dean some good news: Castiel has been resurrected and wants to return to earth. To do so he has to voluntarily give up his grace, through one thousand selfless acts that will eventually earn him a place in heaven. But selflessness isn’t easy...sometimes it’s downright selfish.

Prompt: “You Have to Let Me Go”

(It’s Destiel, it’s fluffy, it’s angsty, it’s everything I wish the finale had been. Canon divergent from before the boys head to the pie festival.)

(I don’t understand formatting on here too well, this is a little cleaner over on AO3)

* * *

This is gospel for the fallen ones

* * *

Dean's dreams were dark places lately. After losing so much...after Cas and Jack and the way the world just seemed to slip apart at the seams around them, there just wasn't much to smile about. So it was unusual that he fell asleep and found himself in a quiet meadow. It was just the kind of thing he used to dream about when Cas needed to dream-talk to him (he can't be gone he can't be gone).

It was...nice. The sun was warm on his face, reminding him that he hadn't really left the bunker in a while except to walk Miracle. Maybe...maybe this could be a message. There was still warmth and brightness in the world if he knew where to look for it. Maybe he should drag Sam to that pie festival in Akron, get some fresh air and a change of scenery.

“Hello.”

He spun around and was wrapping his arms around Jack before his mind really caught up what he was doing. Jack hugged him back, a little awkwardly (like Cas had...not Cas please, god, not Cas). “Damn, Kid, it's good to see you,” Dean huffed out, pulling away enough to get a good look at Jack's face. “Apotheosis looks good on you.”

At Jack's puzzled look Dean slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, I can look stuff up, too.”

“Right. Um, anyway, this is a dream.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He wrapped one arm around Jack's shoulders. “So, any reason you're popping in here and not visiting us in the bunker? Not that it's not great to see you, but Sammy's missing you, too.”

“I had something important to ask you,” Jack explained. “Just you...I don't think Sam needs to know until you wake up.”

Dean's eyebrows shot up. “Well, I'm all ears.”

Jack's mouth opened for a second, like he was going to contradict Dean (“I was never in...your...” why won't it stop). “Castiel is back.”

For a second, Dean was sure this wasn't a dream. He must have died in his sleep and gone to heaven, or been taken by a Djinn in a hunt. Or...or this was hell. Or a nightmare. There was no way the real Jack was actually here saying this.

“It's true,” Jack continued. He'd slipped out from under Dean's arm and stood facing him. “There's just...a problem.”

A problem. Of course. That made more sense. “What, uh, what's up?” Dean asked. His voice was cracking but he ignored it, focusing all of his attention on Jack.

“I had to close heaven,” the young entity explained. “It was better this way...between the remodeling and the new fledglings, it would only endanger earth if angels were still allowed to pass back and forth unhindered.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” Dean held one hand up. “You...remodeled heaven?”

Jack nodded. “Everyone's together now. As it should be.”

Well, hell, that sounded a lot better than before. He hadn't really been looking forward to an eternity in his own private holo-deck anyway...a big, giant party sounded like a good deal. “So what's the problem?”

“Well...Cas wants to come back to you.”

Suddenly, the field around him was far too bright. Dean swallowed and looked away, fighting back the tears that prickled at the edges of his eyes. There it was...this was the nightmare again. Things like this didn't happen to Dean Winchester. He didn't get a happy ending.

“Dean,” Jack's hand on his arm pulled him back. “He can only return to earth if he gives up his grace.”

Oh. Dean swallowed and nodded. Of course. If Cas gave up his grace he'd be human again. That hadn't exactly gone well in the past. “So, what, you want me to tell him to stay up there?”

“It's not that simple.” With a sigh, Jack turned away from Dean and there was suddenly a park bench in the middle of the field. A simple, black iron thing that hadn't been there until Jack wanted it.

He sat down and awkwardly patted the bench for Dean to join him. “You see...if he stays in heaven he'll remain an angel. But if he returns to earth and loses his grace, he still wouldn't have a soul.”

Right. Angels weren't given souls. “So you're saying...”

“If he doesn't have a soul he'll go back to the Empty at the end of his life,” Jack explained.

Dean felt his heart sink. For one brief, shining moment he'd had the vision of growing old with Cas. Retiring together, maybe running the phones and lore the way Bobby used to, training up younger hunters to follow after them. But he couldn't ask for that, not at the cost of Cas's eternal peace.

“There's one thing, Dean,” the young entity interrupted before Dean fully lost it. “We don't have an Occultum, and he never had a soul to begin with, but there is a way for him to earn one.”

He met Jack's gaze, staring into the light blue eyes that still seemed so young. “How?”

“If Cas can perform one thousand selfless acts before he dies, he'll have earned an eternal rest in heaven. He'll lose his grace gradually, until he's nothing more than a mortal, but he would gain a soul in return. The question is...do you want him back under those conditions?”

He wanted Cas back under any condition. Angel or human, pissed-off demigod or nerd in a trench coat. Any version of Cas, any fraction of him...but this couldn't be about Dean. “What does he want?”

Jack's face relaxed in a smile and Dean could have sworn the kid winked at him. “I think you know.”

Dean felt his cheeks grow hot and cleared his throat, trying to cover his embarrassment. “Well, y'know, if this is what Cas wants.”

“Dean,” Jack's hand on his shoulder left a tingle like static electricity racing through his body. “What do you want.”

He had to look away. The shining earnestness in the kid's face, so much like Cas's. The horrible, bright, unbearable hope that was suddenly burrowing up in his chest. This couldn't—good things don't happen. Not like this.

But Jack was waiting for an answer, and Dean realized he couldn't edge his way around this question anymore.

“Yes,” the word rushed out in a sigh. “I wish I could...I never...and then he was gone and I couldn't...and I've give him my soul if that meant he could just come back. Just...even just for a second.”

Jack's face split in a beaming smile, revealing the gap in his teeth that made this almighty ruler of the universe look like a twelve-year-old kid. “Then let it be so.”

* * *

This is the beat of my heart

* * *

“Okay,” Dean shuffled the papers into a loose stack and tucked them under one arm. “So, me and Sammy'll go check out the woods, and Cas can head back to the hotel and do some more research, sound good?”

“Dean.”

“No arguments,” Dean held a finger up in front of Cas's face. “You've only been back for a few months. Still need to get your sea legs.”

A flicker of confusion crossed his...his Cas's face. Sam interrupted before another episode of 'The Dean and Castiel Show' started (as he called it). “We don't even know if there's anything out there,” he countered. “The hikers who disappeared were all traveling alone, we'll be fine if we stick together.”

Dean kicked at his brother to shut him up, but Sam knew it was coming and side-stepped it. “Still, I'd feel a lot better if someone stayed back to keep looking into this. Might find something we missed.”

“Then it would be best if Sam stays behind,” Cas suggested, with a nod toward the younger Winchester. “He's the most experienced with computer research.”

The way Cas said computer like it was a dirty word brought a smile to Dean's face. Even after all this time, his...his Cas didn't quite have a handle on technology.

But no. That was a terrible idea. “No, I need Sammy with me to help me track,” Dean replied.

“Dean.” Cas was shooting him his I used to be an angel-of-the-lord and I dragged your soul out of hell, I can handle this measly human task look. Except this wasn't doing the laundry or buying road trip snacks. This was a real, dangerous hunt.

“Why don't we all go together,” Sam broke in, apparently realizing that the other two were more than willing to stare at each other until someone broke down. “This thing has only attacked people who are alone anyway, we'll be safe as a group.”

Well, he clearly wasn't winning this one. Dean let out a long-suffering sigh and dug in his pocket for his car keys. “You're staying in the middle,” he warned, pointing at Cas.

* * *

But they haven't seen the best of us yet

* * *

“Morning, Sunshine,” Dean smirked over the rim of his coffee cup. As an almost-human, Cas had the most magnificent bedhead first thing in the morning. It reminded him a little of when they'd first met, when Cas had that crazy, windblown look like an angel who'd never heard of a comb. “How'd you sleep?”

Cas slid into the chair across from Dean and rested his elbow on the table to prop his chin in his hand. “I'm afraid sleeping is still an adjustment.”

“Yeah, well, you'll get used to it,” Dean said with a smile and shoved the coffeepot over. “And there's always caffeine.”

“Or I could sleep in your bed.”

Dean had been in the middle of swallowing when Cas made that statement, and he spluttered the coffee right back up into his mug and all over his hands. “Cas, that...I thought we were....” They were taking it slow. There were a crap-ton of issues to deal with, between Cas's less than fond memories of the last two times he'd been human and Dean's own dump truck load of shame. While Dean never had any doubt that Cas had meant everything he said before the Empty took him away, there was the very real issue that Cas hadn't expected to survive that confession.

Where did that leave them now?

In the midst of his panic Dean finally noticed the mischievous smile Cas was trying to hide behind his own coffee cup. “You little sneak!” Dean dipped his fingers into his cup and flicked lukewarm coffee at the other man.

Cas laughed and held a hand out to block the droplets of Dean's coffee. “My apologies,” he said, though he didn't sound the least bit sorry. “I didn't expect you to be up so early.”

“Had to get into town to grab the morning post,” Dean announced. He proudly slapped his hand on top of a stack of newspapers, pulling the topmost one off to unfold in front of Cas. “The society pages are a great place to find all kinds of charity events and stuff. Hey, did you know Lebanon has a soup kitchen once a month? They take donations all the time, then provide a hot meal and bags of groceries for people in need.”

“That's...wonderful, Dean,” Cas, face screwed up in confusion, craned his neck to see the print Dean was gesturing to.

“Wichita has a bunch of stuff coming up, too,” Dean added as he piled another paper on top of the first. “There's a fundraiser for an animal shelter—I know you don't really have money, but they're also asking for help running the phones and stuff. There's, like, three nursing homes, and I know they never get enough visitors. Oh,and they're always asking for help at the adult education center. You'd be great at that, most of those guys are just looking for some encouragement.”

“Dean,” Cas lunged across the table to rest his hand on top of Dean's, stopping him. “What are you talking about?”

“Selfless acts.” Really, it should have been obvious. “Jack said a thousand selfless acts, right? What's more selfless than charity?”

Cas smiled, affection softening his eyes. “I don't think it counts if I do it like this.”

Dean twisted his hand just enough to brush his thumb over Cas's. “You don't know that for sure.”

Sighing, Cas pulled his hand away and took one of the papers off of Dean's stack. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.”

* * *

The fear of falling apart

* * *

They'd gotten maybe a dozen yards into the woods at the edge of town when they found fresh tracks. Then a dark shape darted across their path, and they were after it.

“Werewolf?” Dean called over his shoulder. He and Sam were desperately trying to keep Cas between them, to protect the former angel from harm, but they hadn't counted on Cas having better stamina than either of them.

“The tracks are too canine,” Sam replied. “Skinwalker?”

“It ran on all fours,” Cas added. “Look,” he added, crouching next to a track on the path. It was definitely a canine track, about as large as a man's hand.

Dean let out a whistle. “Big dog.”

“Some skinwalkers get that big,” Sam suggested. “Did you bring silver?”

Dean patted the stock of his rifle. “Always come prepared, Sammy. Cas?”

Cas held up his angel blade.

“Dude, come on,” Dean groaned. “I gave you a gun.”

“I left it behind. This is all I need,” Cas insisted. When Dean groaned again his face hardened and he set his jaw. “I haven't lost all of my grace yet, Dean. This is sufficient for me.”

“Yeah, well, we're setting you up with a nine millimeter and some practice targets when we get back,” Dean countered. “Come on, let's move.”

The prints were becoming more frequent now. Dean desperately wanted to send Cas back to the car, especially knowing he was only armed with his blade. But that meant either sending Cas back by himself (and this thing was taking out solitary hikers), separating the brothers so one of them could take Cas back (again...solitary hikers), or all heading back together (leaving this thing to keep picking off hikers). The only option at the moment was to keep Cas with them and just watch his back.

Dean held his fist up to halt the others and backed off the path toward the undergrowth. He could barely see the shadow of something ahead of them...something big and dark moving around in the bushes.

He peeked over his shoulder at Sammy and jerked his head toward the shadow. He braced the rifle to his chest with one hand, and with the other gestured for Sam to move to the other side of the path to get a different view of it.

Sam, who'd been furthest back, crouched low to hurry across the path to the faint shelter of the trees on the other side. He eased forward, shotgun braced against his hip, while Dean tracked his progress, ready to aim and fire if this thing charged at them.

There was a bellowing roar from the path ahead of them. Sam scrambled backward, firing his shotgun from the hip in the direction of the creature charging. Dean heard the thing yelp as Sam's shot hit, and he was rolling into the path, coming up to one knee, sighting down his rifle for the dark shape moving through the bushes.

It charged him, fast, and Dean was barely able to get a shot off before he was bowled off his feet. The bullet thudded into the creature's shoulder and it let out another shriek of pain before a massive, clawed paw was swiping at Dean's face and chest.

Then Cas was there, still preternaturally fast despite how mortal his blood was these days. He caught the beast's swipe on his angel blade and easily parried, his strength still so much greater than a normal human. Dean scooted away to bring the rifle around again, but the creature knocked Cas aside and took off down the path.

“Don't!” Dean started, but Cas was already taking off after it. Dean shoved himself to his feet to follow, Sam on his heels, and they burst through the shadowed depths of the forest path just in time to see Cas tackle the creature on an old suspension bridge.

“Oh my god...” Sam's voice sounded numb with horror, and Dean had to agree. Cas was fighting a thing that looked like a wolf, but only if a wolf was bear-sized.

And Cas was...winning. He scored a few harsh slashes up the creature's chest and carved a furrow across its face. The wolf-thing snarled and leaped for him, but Cas ducked under and caught the thing in the stomach with his shoulder, heaving it up and over the side of the bridge.

“Cas!” Dean pelted forward, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. Cas glanced over at him...just as a paw shifted into a large, meaty hand to seize him by the wrist and drag him over the side of the bridge.

Dean could vaguely hear himself yelling as he ran onto the bridge, ignoring the way it shook beneath him. He could just see Cas's fingers twisted in the rope that ran across the bottom of the bridge, and he slid onto his belly to stick his hand through and grab Cas around the wrist. “Hold on!”

The skinwalker still had a hold of him. It had fully shifted now, to a large, muscular man with a feral gleam in his eyes. He had both hands wrapped around Cas's wrist and was swinging back and forth under him, as though to use the former angel to get the momentum to swing back onto the bridge.

Cas met Dean's eyes, face set in a determined line. “Don't you dare,” Dean snarled. He dug his fingers in and squeezed as much of himself through the gap between the bridge's railings as he could. “Don't do this to me again.”

“Dean. You have to let me go.” Cas's voice was calm, too damn calm for this. “It's all right.”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “No, I—I need you.” I love you.

Cas smiled. “I know.”

Then he was pulling out of Dean's grasp and falling down, down, down to the river below.

* * *

Don't try and sleep through the end of the world

* * *

“Come on, man,” Dean coaxed. “This one's really good, I promise.”

Cas let out a tired sigh and twisted to stare at Dean. They were huddled up on the library couches, Cas with an ancient illuminated text open on his lap and Dean poking through Sam's laptop for some kind of extra-selfless deeds they could do. Maybe if it was good enough it would count for three or four.

“I appreciate the assistance, Dean, but I believe your plan is flawed.”

“Yeah, well, how do you know?”

In reply, Cas held his hand out. Just a few days ago they'd taken a simple salt-and-burn near Kansas City (after handing out water at the mini-marathon to support the children's hospital), and the ghost had been powerful enough to send a shard of glass straight through Cas's hand. Any normal human would have needed medical intervention and weeks of recovery, but the wound had slowly closed up until there wasn't even a scar left.

“Jack said I would lost a fraction of my power for every selfless act,” Cas explained gently. “I'm still very much an angel, Dean.”

Dean stared at Cas over the top of Sam's laptop, before gently closing it and setting it aside. He chewed his lip for a moment while he considered what to say. “A thousand is a lot, man. Maybe...maybe you just haven't noticed.”

“It's just going to take time,” Cas replied, resting his hand on top of Dean's. “We have plenty of that now.”

“So, what, you gonna hear a bell or something? When you're all done, I mean.”

Cas shook his head. “I'll know when I haven't heard the voices of my brothers and sisters in over a year.” Catching Dean's puzzled glance, he went on. “The last thing I'll lose is Angel Radio. Some of the other angels have agreed to contact me periodically, and when I can't hear their voices anymore is when we'll know I'm fully human.”

Dean stared down at their hands, watching Cas's thumb move back and forth over his knuckles. “I still think we should keep trying. I mean, all this charity stuff is pretty selfless anyway, right?”

To his surprise, Cas threw his head back and laughed. “Selfless deeds for a selfish reason? Is that what you're saying?”

Dean had to grin, too. “So we're selfishly being selfless?”

Cas's smile grew more affectionate. “How selfish of us.”

* * *

‘Cause I won't give up without a fight

* * *

“Sammy! Take that side!” Dean waved his brother back and stumbled the rest of the way across the bridge. The river wasn't too far down...the water was deep...the current wasn't too strong. Cas was still partially an angel. He could survive this...right?

“Cas!” Rifle bouncing along his back, Dean shoved his way through the undergrowth, trying to reach the river. The suspension bridge had only been twelve or fifteen feet in the air, mostly just a shortcut for people who didn't want to take the longer path down to the footbridge.

He ran along the riverbank, stumbling through the mud, eyes open for any sign of Cas or the skinwalker that had dragged him over. Sam had reached the riverbank on the other side and was moving parallel to Dean, calling Cas's name as he went.

The back of his mind was racing through scenarios. How cold would it get at night this time of year? What kind of wounds could Cas get from falling into the river? Could the skinwalker have survived, too?

“Dean!” Sam's voice broke through his thoughts.

“I see it!” Dean called back. There was something on the riverbank ahead...something big and dark. Slinging his rifle around into his hands, Dean slowly approached, ready to take a shot if it was the skinwalker.

It was big and hairy and naked. And not moving. Dean risked a glance across the river at Sam, who shook his head. No ideas. He slid forward carefully and nudged it with his foot. It didn't move. He pushed harder and the thing rolled over onto its back, sightless eyes staring up at the sky, a diamond-shaped hole in its chest.

Cas had gotten the skinwalker. Dean let out a sigh of mingled frustration and relief. At least they knew this thing wouldn't be hunting down any more hikers, but it didn't answer the question of how far their missing angel had gotten. Or what kind of shape he was in.

Sam was already moving down the river and Dean picked up his pace. If the skinwalker had been washed ashore here, maybe Cas wouldn't be too far away.

Dean saw him first. Around the next bend of the river the bank on his side smoothed out into a kind of beach area, where sand and silt had been washed down the river and collected in the curve. There was a figure sprawled on the gritty sand, half out of the water, still recognizable even in the second-hand hunter's threads they'd been giving him.

“Cas!” Dean ran through the mud, dropping his rifle when his shaking hands wouldn't loop the strap over his shoulder. He crouched down and grabbed the former angel under the arms and hauled him out of the water, then collapsed on the beach to cradle Cas's head and shoulders against his chest.

“Come on, Sunshine,” Dean murmured. He wiped at the mud smearing Cas's face, rested his hand against his neck to feel his pulse. “Please...”

Cas's pulse beat strong against his fingers, and Dean let out a sigh of relief and lowered his head until his forehead was pressed against Cas's. “You said you wouldn't leave again, man,” he whispered. “You promised.”

Cas stirred, his eyelids fluttered. Dean pulled back just enough to watch those bright blue eyes squint open. Dean let out a sigh of relief. “Never thought I'd be glad you're still mostly angel,” he muttered.

His...his Cas...managed a weak smile, his voice breaking in a whisper. “I must be too selfish.”

* * *

If you love me

* * *

And thus ends this year’s FebuWhump! I hope you all enjoyed, and I’ll be compiling the master list shortly.

(And if you have the song stuck in your head now, imagine how the last two months have been for me)

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday28 #you have to let me go #supernatural #dean winchester #jack kline #castiel #sam winchester #canon divergent/alternate ending #angst #fluff #grief #destiel #jack is new god #everyone lives #happy ending #human castiel

[cassiecasyl]

there is peace

I’m slowly freaking out over tonight’s episode so here’s some unedited fluff.

---

The smell of pancakes wavered through the bunker, promising warmth on a grumpy morning. Dean shovels into the kitchen with bed hair and drowsy eyes, only being fueled by the thought of coffee. Sam looks up from where he is standing at the hearth, chuckling slightly. “Late night?” he teased, fully aware of Castiel’s nod. Dean only grumpels. 

The ex-angel was quick to prepare a cup of the energizing drink, and was thanked with one of those half-awake smiles he loved. There was warmth all around, and the bunker finally, after all those years, felt like a proper home. “Good morning, Dean,” Jack said, completing his trademark greeting by raising his hand.  

“Mornin’, kid,” Dean responds, taking a sip. It was always a nice surprise when the nephilim (god?) popped in to spend some time with them. Sam announces the pancakes to be finished and so, one by one, they gather around the table. 

“Did you hear about Claire?” Sam asks, probing to see whether his brother was already among the living, “Her and Kaia took out a nasty nest of vampires down in Quebec. Turned out fine though.” 

“That’s good,” Dean answers, subconsciously leaning against Cas next to him, reveling in the ex-angel’s body heat. Their breakfast goes on like this, with trading little stories and news about fellow hunters. 

Because, despite them still living in the bunker, they had retired from the life. Now, they served as back-up and source of information, always happy to help fellow hunters. They were like Bobby was to them in a way, and Dean wore a sad smile when he thought about it. It was nice though. Sometimes, hunters stayed over when they had a case nearby or no place else to stay. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Eileen complained as she walked in. 

“You looked so cute, I didn’t wanna wake you,” Sam said and signed in apology, and Dean laughed. He prepared a clever quip to tease his brother about being a hopeless romantic, but it died on his tongue as he caught Castiel’s gaze. He was the same now, he remembered, and there was no shame in it. 

“I’ll show you who’s the sleepy head next time,” Eileen retorted, making the table laugh. 

“Parker’s kids will come by next week,” Castiel told Dean with this homely smile he now always wore. It was so domestic Dean wanted to die but he loved it with all his heart.

“Nice! I hope Robin’s ready for a car lecture. There’s a link I need to fix in the impala…,” he rambled on, having lost Castiel already. Robin was a lot like Dean with his interest in cars, and it warmed Castiel’s heart every time he saw them together. 

The Parker kids reminded Dean of him and Sam when they were young, but instead of them, they weren’t forced into being a hunter as their only option. Their dad still hunted, but made sure his kids were safe, more often than not dropping them off at the bunker if needed. They learned the necessities to defend themselves, but nothing more, and were preparing to go to college with the help of Sam. Sometimes, Dean thought they were him and Sam if they had gotten the love and support they needed. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it wasn’t terrible either. Peace really did come in the end, he supposed.

Taglist: 

@aniridescentdreamer @nightmare-in-plaid @luciferstempest @gnbrules @starrynightdeancas

#Team free will 2.0 #destiel #sam and eileen #family #jack kline #domestic fluff #idk #why am i hungry

[bluntache]

yo , there are a SHIt TON of people here . let’s write together .

comment a verse , i’ll write something . this blog is official semi active !

xx. ‹ canon. ›

canon dean winchester. seasons 01-15. any canon divergences have their own verses below ie. endverse, etc.

xx. ‹ canon div. ›

anytime we write canon but we change something .

xx. ‹ end. verse. ›

canon dean winchester. end!universe setting. this is dean’s verse for anything related to the apocalypse, both in canon (end!verse) and alternate universes such as american horror story apocalypse or just apocalyptic au’s.

this dean fed into his dark desires after sam said yes to lucifer. using sam’s betrayal as an excuse to get his hands dirty without worrying about retribution or guilt. without any real ties to family or friends, dean allows himself to go very far into the dark hole of desire and destruction. using his brother as his excuse for his actions – we had to do it - or lucifer will win , mentality. he is abusive and toxic towards castiel as well as others .

xx. ‹ ordinary. ›

alt. universe dean winchester. this verse does not have supernatural components. dean is a baseball player, taking 18 hours at university, living in studio apartment he fixed it up and is renting to own atm, working part time at a diner as a cook, also working saturdays at a local autobody shop as a intern.

is a baseball player, taking 18 hours at university, living in studio apartment that was pretty trashy but he fixed it up and is renting to own atm, works part time at a diner as the cook, also works saturdays at a local autobody shop as a intern.

mary winchester was accidentally burned alive when a loose wire sparked upstairs in the baby room causing it to fill with smoke. incredibly baby sam had crawled from the room and woke up dean next door who started screaming when he saw the flames. his father screamed for him to carry sam outside and ran into the burning room for their mother. john was thought to have suffered from smoke poisoning due to believing he had seen a demon in the smoke and flames. after a month or so john gained custody of his kids again. sadly he was never the same and went on ‘hunts’ often. leaving the children unattended for weeks sometimes. when dean was 17 his father was busted when a hotel clerk called authorities after seeing dean break into a vending machine and notices the father had not returned. dean was not charged as the police believed neglect was apparent and john never came back. his body would lady be found near his car, police believed he tried to commit suicide since the smell of sulfur was in the area and the cars gas tank had been drained (as if left on until the engine died).

dean was given the impala and the news. sam had already been in foster care at this point and was integrating well. he was at a good school with a good family and while they invited dean over often dean knew he had to make sure his life turned around. sam encourages him to go to college and dean decided to after sams foster dad said he would help him talk to the college about financing.

dean made friends quick and while most didn’t connect dean to the death in the papers some did and offered a helping hand. he was able to find a studio apartment through a local ad and was offered it dirt cheap if he would do the renovations. dean accepted even though he knew the place was a dump and would take a lot of tlc.

the baseball coach spotted dean quickly and asked if he’d ever played sports. dean mentioned his training with his dad and easily knocked one out when practicing with the team. he was offered a walk on spot and a minimal scholarship of covering 12 hours of college credit per semester.

he picked up a job as fast as he could at a local dive joint that was desperate for a cook. they threw him in with no experience but the customers weren’t picky and he could cook most of the basic slop people wanted. he worked hard and the waitresses appreciated his take no shit demeanor if an unruly customer came in.

dean tries to reconnect with bobby but it takes. along while to find him again through the phone book. when he does eventually bobby offers him a place with him but dean declines wanting to stay close to sam. bobby’s known for coming to visit and watch the games. most people assume that’s deans dad and he’s happy to let them think it.

he’s going for his basics right now but has several paths he’s considering. photography, wielding, autobody or business. he keeps very little around him. he’s a minimalist and always feels like he’ll have to leave at any minute. afraid of commitment. desperate for a connection. very confident but got that southern gentleman charm. he keeps an old photo of his parents in his wallet and one of sam in the impala.

xx. ‹ pre. canon. ›

pre-canon dean winchester. this takes place prior to the pilot and generally is either teen or young adult dean prior to meet up with sam at college to find their father.

xxi. ‹ demon!dean. ›

canon dean winchester. deanmon era. anytime dean is a demon, or knight of hell. in this verse, he is typically devoid of emotions that drive him normally : such as guilt, etc. he still holds somewhat of a moral compass, killing those who don’t follow the rules or hurt children / rape women, etc. follows canon supernatural but most threads turn divergent fairly quickly.

xxi. ‹ dean smith. ›

alternate universe dean winchester. dean smith. a verse for dean in which he is dean smith, adopted successful child of ellen & bobby smith, loving brother to jo. he loves golfing and fancy suits. eats salad everyday & is a ceo of his fathers fortune 500 company which specializes in cars with new age technology , similar to tesla .

xxi. ‹ moc!dean. ›

canon dean winchester. mark of cain era. anytime dean has the mark of cain , he is drawn to violence and blood shed. he’s drawn to dark, terrible things such as killing, violence, hardcore sex, and other taboo things. he feeds off the energy and has trouble controlling himself . if castiel or sam is not around he’s likely to kill without pause.

xxi. ‹ purgatory ›

canon dean winchester. purgatory setting. anytime dean is in the realm of purgatory. can be canon divergent but typically written with benny or castiel.

xxi. ‹ michael!dean. ›

canon dean winchester. michael!dean era. anytime dean’s body is taken over by michael, or in which michael is sharing dean’s vessel with or without permission. covers both canon timeline and canon divergence regarding michael.

xi. ‹ coach. ›

alternate universe dean winchester. dean works at a high school or university (plot dependent). in high school threads, he is a head football coach and gym teacher. he sometimes teaches history or health depending on what the school needs that year. in university he is the asst coach, defensive coordinator, and sometimes teaches freshman fitness courses .

xi. ‹ hitman. ›

dean left his fathers house at 18 and went straight into the military. with his moms untimely death his father slowly lost his mind, beginning to believe in conspiracy theories, supernatural beings, and was becoming extremely paranoid as well as beginning to buy guns. dean knew he needed to get out if he wanted to gain custody of sammy somehow and he saw the army as his out. when testing on the exams the army found he had a certain aptitude for …. certain jobs… he started out as a contract hitman and cover up guy. after a while he retired from the military and went private with his time and money. he’s got one assistant and no other contacts. as far as the world knows, he’s still with the army. as far as the army knows, he’s off the grid. sammy is placed in foster care within one year of dean joining the army. dean is granted leave temporarily and sam is given to bobby singer while dean works , sending large sums in various forms during the times he is gone.

xi. ‹ witch. ›

alternate universe. dean winchester is a witch who is able to communicate with biologically living things that use photosynthesis . his brother sam , a pyrokenetic , tragically started a house fire that took the lives of his entire family minus dean who was found cocooned entirely by crisp , burnt foilage and limbs . the tree outside his window had inexplicably created a barrier between him and the fire. taken in by bobby singer , who’s deceased wife had (he found out later) been blessed with divine sight , he tried to learn and hone his skills . he eventually opens his own holistic apothecary where he offers mixtures based on the ailments of his customers . he known to be called upon by those who know his true nature for cures and consults.

xi. ‹ bounty hunter. ›

ffxv. crossover universe. dean winchester is a hunter without family. found among the remnants of what was assumed to be a freak house fire or arson, he was taken in and raised by hunters . after leaving their safety net and moving into a small cabin built by the lake not far from cindy’s shop, he stays there fending off wild monsters and animals. living as best he can in isolation.

sw. crossover universe. dean winchester is a bounty hunter. his mother was a bounty hunter as well but died while attempting a job. his father, worked for the first order / rebellion (you pick) but was caught in an explosion not long after , leaving sammy behind to join the first order / rebellion as a researcher and design specialist. dean refused to be entrapped by a label and left searching for meaning and his place in everything.

loz/botw. crossover universe. dean winchester is a hylian hunter on a mission. he’s heard rumors of a great hero and wants to learn the ways of the champion. his brother sam, inspired by the princess, travels with him and they document all they can find. together they hope to unlock the mystery to their mother’s disappearance. there father blames a dark spirit and talks about it constantly, convincing those in the villages he is mad. their mother traded her soul with the dark statue in hateno in order to pay a debt owed by her family. john, and his boys do not know of the statue and believe her to be dead or that she has abandoned them.

teen wolf. crossover universe. dean winchester is a hunters son and comes to beacon hills in order to aid chris argent in his hunting of werewolves. along the way he befriends allison argent and becomes intertwined with the complex story of the pack. he will not know of the pack in the high school unless you tell him . his loyalty will always be to allison over anyone else .

xi. ‹ dark!dean. ›

canon divergent. dean’s been fucked up since he can remember. if it’s nasty, he wants it. if it’s wrong, it feels right. he’s tired of babysitting and he’s tired of taking orders. veering off on his own more often than not, he’s got a secret. he likes blood on his hands, black blood, red blood, he’s not picky. he just wants the raw freshness of a kill on his hands. his weapon of choice is whatever is available but his knife is always on him. warm blood helps wash away the bad memories. and sometimes, it helps him forget the fire.

in this verse , the fire happens and all events still occur. however, dean is not the same as canon dean . instead he took the smarting abuse of his father one last time, citing to himself that the constant verbal and emotional abuse was enough to justify the bullet to the back of his head. he left him there. dressed it up real nice, like a present, even faked the scent of sulfur. ‘demons’ were real, so his dad said. dean figures his demons must be pretty real too, but now they’re dead, buried 6 ft under.

he gets off on dominance / power / and killing . he is not concerned with sammy staying alive unless it helps him in some way. after his father dies he gets a lot worse . sam (most times) turns into a conscious of sorts that he uses to guide his actions (wwsd? -what would sammy do) . he only does this if he needs to keep a low cover. when castiel comes along , dean finds him a pain in the ass but grows to enjoy him. over time he wants more and more to own the angel and to influence him to become more like him. deadly.

xi. ‹ anything but business‚ sheresists. ›

private verse with @sheresists .

#ooc.

[womanoflettersinthebunker]

Dean glared at the cane resting innocently against the bed as if it had personally stood up and insulted his parents, his brother, and his car.

It looked simple enough, it seemed to be made out of plastic with a rubber handle. He fought the urge to go over to it, pick it up, and throw it out the window or preferably in front of his car so he could run it over.

Instead he dragged himself to it and reached out to grab a hold of it, hating how the handle fit his hand perfectly, leaning it against the ground he used it as leverage to bring himself up, trying to keep most of the weight off of his right leg.

He ignored it as best as he could as he made his way to the front of the bunker where his laptop and books were waiting for him. He reached down and felt the outline of his phone in his pocket and after a moment of resistance pulled it out and checked the screen once more.

No new messages or calls.

Scowling he pocketed the phone once more and finally reached the kitchen, reaching out with his free hand to pour himself some coffee, leaning heavily on the cane.

It's been almost two years since he had been forced into retirement, in a sense. He still manned the phones and provided information and at times he pretended to be FBI or bosses or whatever was needed for other hunters to get into their crime scenes.

He was basically Bobby without the beard or the cap.

The worst part of all of this was the understanding that Sam would have to go out on hunts on his own, no backup because in all honesty neither of them trusted any other hunter enough. His brother was hunting alone and with no help and it was driving him insane.

He knew that Sam was an experienced hunter, the kid had saved the world multiple times during their short lives, but in the end, he was still his little brother. And still even after all these years he needed to be the one next to Sam to make sure that everything was okay and that he was safe. Sending him alone on hunts when against every last deeply ingrained instinct that he had.

And unfortunately, it was something that needed to be done. Regardless of how much he hated it.

He took a long drag of his coffee and sat down at the table with a barely hidden groan, even when he was alone he didn't want to give any hints that he wasn't at a hundred percent. Sam had slowly stopped with his mother-henning and Dean had no desire for that to be picked up again.

He clicked a random button on the laptop and it sprang to life, opening back to the articles he had been reading, a three missing persons case that prompted Sam to leave and investigate.

With no call or text in the last couple hours.

He was being ridiculous and overbearing and too codependent even for him. Sam was fine, he was either doing more research or talking to witnesses or police or even on the hunt itself and of course he wouldn't be able to call during any of those times because he was busy and-

Dean checked the phone again, just wanting to make sure that he didn't miss anything in the last few minutes.

Nothing new.

Dean tossed his phone onto the table and leaned back in his chair, sipping at his coffee as he skimmed over the articles once more in case he could pick something else out that he hadn't before.

Maybe this was good, some time apart for the both of them. It might even be a good thing if they didn't talk for a bit, branch out a bit more. They weren't married, they were just brothers, there was no need to touch bases every couple minutes anyway.

But maybe it also wouldn't hurt to just call and see what was happening either.

With that thought Dean nodded and snatched his phone back up, pressing the number 1 to rapid dial his brother.

Dean listened to the dial tone, counting them off. Sam almost always answered his phone between the first and second ring however this time, he didn't pick up.

Scowling Dean threw his phone back onto the table and drained half of his cup, a part of him wondering if it was too early to start adding whiskey into his coffee or if he could grab a beer.

But then he also thought about the painkillers that he might have to take later on and Sam had forbidden him from taking those with alcohol so maybe it was too soon to try.

Although he distinctly remembered the both of them taking pain meds with a mouthful of alcohol in the past so maybe Sam was just being a hypocrite.

His brother was a dick. A dick that wouldn't call or answer his calls or even text him. Just an all around dick.

Dean glanced at his phone once more. Nothing.

Absentmindedly his hand went down to his knee and lightly massaged at it, trying to push away the slowly growing pain. Ever since a wendigo had taken out a chunk of his leg nothing on that side had ever been the same, hence the cane and the forced semi retirement.

Sam would always remind him that it could've been worse, he could've died or lost more limbs or a whole number of things. In hindsight Dean knew that this was one of the better options, he still had his two legs, even if one was a bit lame at times, and he could move and be alive.

He just hated that he couldn't watch his brothers back anymore.

Shaking his head Dean minimized the window with the article and glanced through his email, answering a few other hunters that were looking for advice or lore or a new case their way. He put his phone to the side and only glanced at it every few minutes instead of calling so he had to call that a bit of success.

He managed to work for a few hours like that, answering emails and looking information up; Sam had started an online database with information to make it easier to find things. There were only the most common monsters for now but eventually Sam wanted to upload everything in the bunker onto the website.

Overachieving bastard that wouldn't pick his phone up to give his older brother some peace of mind that he was.

He answered a few calls, none from Sam let him add, and sent other hunters on their way. He didn't really like how young some of them sounded but pushed those thoughts away, none of them wanted anything from him other than information and it was none of his business how people were living.

He had started in the life as a kid on the road in the backseat of his dad's car, these kids were older than he had been.

And the now cold and old coffee didn't exactly wash out the bitter taste in his mouth at that regardless.

Glancing at the corner of his laptop Dean was surprised to see that it was so much later in the day, he had actually skipped lunch without realizing it, and he reached out to grab his cane to get into the kitchen.

He grabbed the phone instead and glanced at it once more. Still nothing.

"Goddamnit Sam." Dean grounded out as he stabbed the call button and brought it up.

Again all he had was to listen to the dial tone, this time he decided to leave a message.

"I know you're all happy to be out and away from me you dick but the very least you can do is text or something." he said. "Call me back Sam, or at least text me, let me know you're alive."

He gripped the phone tightly and fought back the urge to throw it against something in frustration. Even when they had to be apart on hunts they at least kept in contact with one another and made sure that the other knew they were alright.

This time Dean took the cane in hand and got up, going towards the kitchen and snagging his now empty cup as well. He poured himself another cup and looked around as he tried to figure out what to eat.

He actually wasn't that hungry, his stomach was too tied up to even think about food but he also knew that he needed to eat, he couldn't survive on just coffee anymore like he used to. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed some cold cuts, making himself a small sandwich; it required the least amount of effort.

He had taken one bite into the sandwich when his phone suddenly rang. Spitting it out he moved as quickly as he could, snatching his phone up and all but barking into it. “Hello?”

“Mr. Winchester my name is Tonya Willow, we found your brother unresponsive and he is in our custody.”

-----------------

Sam was quiet as Dean drove them back to the bunker, he stared out the window and his body was turned away from Dean.

"Sammy." Dean started to say, trying to find the right words. "Do you want to-"

"No." Sam injected, his voice brisk and to the point.

Dean nodded, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and ignoring the pain in his knee as he pressed the pedal.

They had finally reached their home and Dean brought them down into the garage, turning the car off. When he realized that Sam hadn't moved to get out he stayed as well, waiting for his brother to make the first move, whatever it was.

"Dean." Sam said quietly. "I don't want to hunt anymore."

Dean felt something close up his throat and he had to swallow, feeling as if he couldn't speak for a moment. "Alright Sammy." he said softly. "You don't need to keep hunting. We don't need to keep hunting." Left unsaid was that Dean couldn't hunt anymore whether he wanted to or now.

Sam nodded, curling slightly in on himself and nodding once more. "Okay." he whispered.

Dean reached out slowly, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder, trying his best to ignore how Sam flinched at his touch and pushed away any thought of why he would do so.

"C'mon little brother, lets get inside." he murmured, rubbing his thumb against Sam's shoulder.

-----------------

It was the lack of sound that caught his attention more than anything.

Dean had been on high alert for a while after the hunt, Sam still refused to tell him anything what had happened and no amount of prying would work. If it had been anything else Dean might've tried to loosen his tongue with some drinks but Sam had almost taken a vow of sobriety.

Again, he didn't want to think about the why and focused only on what was happening.

So Dean had been forced to stay outside of Sam's bedroom for hours on end at night when he slept in the hopes that sleep would help make Sam say something, anything, that might be able to help Dean to understand.

After a few nights of doing this he bit the bullet and opened the door, peering inside at his brother and careful not to make a single noise to wake him up.

Only to see Sam deep asleep with tear tracks running down his face, and for a second Dean swore that he was having a heart attack right there. Sam had always been the quiet one, the one to suffer in silence rather than bother anyone else with it.

A part of him fought that he should wake Sam up right then and there, at the very least to save him from his nightmares, he hesitated for a moment and came into the room completely, his leg barely dragging behind him.

Gingerly he sat down on the edge of the bed, he could already tell from the tenseness in Sam's shoulders that his brother was awake but kept his eyes closed pretending to sleep.

That was fine with him, Sam didn't technically need to be awake.

Reaching out Dean brushed his fingers through Sam's hair, his movements gentle and as soothing as he could be.

He could remember doing this countless times when Sam had been a kid and refused to leave his side at times, they even had to share the same bed when they were younger because Sam didn't want to let go. It was always a sure fire way to calm him down.

And more importantly to go to sleep.

Dean let his hand drift downwards to the back of Sam's neck, his thumb rubbing against the knot he could feel there. Slowly, bit by bit, Sam started to relax, the tension leaving his shoulders and back as the knot slowly released.

He wasn't sure how long it took for Sam to relax completely, in between one breath and the other Dean could tell that he had fallen asleep.

He didn't want to risk moving and possibly waking Sam up again, and maybe, just maybe, his presence here would help Sam a bit more. Give him something to hold onto at the least.

And in all honesty, there was no other place he'd rather be.

----------------

It did and it didn't get better after that. Sam still refused to talk about what had happened, still refused to even acknowledge that something had happened. Dean didn't trust him to just be on his own at night anymore so every night he would stay by his brothers side.

At first Sam had complained about it, said something about them being adults or some crap like that, Dean had zoned out after a few seconds and didn't listen to whatever he was saying and continued to do the same.

Dean was sure that the first time he had climbed into Sam's bed Sam would've pushed him out of it if it hadn't been for his leg.

He had also fallen asleep easily once Dean had started to pet at his hair so that was a bonus as well.

And in all honesty Dean had started to sleep a bit better as well, knowing that Sam was close by and safe was more than enough for him to be able to sleep peacefully.

The moment when Sam would have a nightmare Dean would wake up, always attuned to his little brother's distress and he would calm him down, sometimes he'd hum something, more often than not it was either 'Hey Jude' or some sort of rock song from the radio that they had grown up listening to.

He wasn't sure how well it was working but it was something, it was all that he could do, and he hated admitting it to himself but he also knew that it wasn't enough, he needed to do something else.

He needed to do something for his brother.

-----------------

Dean knew that there was something else that Sam needed, something that he couldn't give him and so, he set out to try and find it.

In the end he went to the path he had, reluctantly, gotten good at. Research. The problem had been keeping it a secret from Sam, they had become open books to one another lately and keeping a secret had become harder.

They had also agreed that they wouldn't keep secrets anymore, not after Gadreel, not after the mark, not after everything that had happened. So while it did leave a sour taste in his mouth, he tried his best to ignore that by using the excuse that what he was doing was for Sam's benefit.

When that started to sound in his head like what he had said about Gadreel he just stopped thinking about it and continued what he was doing.

It took a few days of research, done late at night or when he was in the bathroom, those few short minutes that he was alone. Sam had started to regress more with each passing day, refusing to even leave the bunker without Dean being there with him.

Finally when he thought he found the perfect one he had nodded and glanced up at Sam, closing his laptop after sending another email. "Hey Sam."

Sam gave a small grunt of acknowledgement, not looking up from his own laptop.

"I'm thinking about going to town." he said, noting the small bit of fear that shot over Sam's face. "Wanna come with me? Get some supplies?"

Sam looked relieved and nodded, closing his laptop. "Sure."

-----------------

He had planned to go shopping, they really did need to stock up on supplies again, but first, he made a small detour to another building and ushered Sam inside.

Dean led the way, seeing from the corner of his eye Sam looking around. The only sound was his cane and Sam's footsteps.

"Dean, where are we?" Sam asked slowly.

"Just somewhere." Dean said vaguely. "We need to pick something up here."

"Thought we were getting supplies."

"We are." Dean confirmed. "We're getting something that we need."

They passed by a few offices with windows that they were able to look into and Sam could see people sitting in there with animals.

"Dean." Sam said his voice lowering in wonder, the same that he had when he had been younger and Dean couldn't help but smile at the nostalgia. "Dean."

Dean glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him as they reached the office they needed to and he opened the door.

To show a golden retriever sitting patiently in the middle of the room, her tail wagging behind her when the both of them came in.

"Good afternoon Mr. and Mr. Campbell." the therapist said with a smile. "Dean, I assume this is Sam."

Dean nodded and reached out with his free hand to shake hers. "Yeah this is him."

"Dean." Sam whispered, his hand going out to grip at Deans arm. "Dean. Is this..."

"This is one of our service dogs for patients that are suffering from various ailments." the therapist said gently. "Your brother told me about some of your experiences."

Dean reached out and took Sam's hand in his when his brother's face fell and he stared down at the ground. "Didn't tell her everything Sammy." he told him. "Just some."

"I would like to speak with you as well Sam, just to make sure." she said. "And if we believe that you need a service dog, we will provide one for you."

Sam looked from the dog to the therapist to back at Dean, eyes wide and shaking slightly. "Dee?"

Dean smiled and squeezed Sam's hand. "Yeah?" he said softly.

"Thought you didn't like dogs in the impala." Sam said, looking up his voice heavy and tears in his eyes as he managed a small smile.

Dean smiled back. "I think this time we can make an exception." he said. "But you're cleaning up the fur."

He had been sent out to wait in the hallway while Sam spoke with the therapist, thankfully there were chairs so he could sit down and put the cane to the side. He took his phone out and shot off a few more emails, trying his best not to fidget too much or get impatient. If time was needed then time would be given.

He wouldn't smile about it or be glad about it though but he'll be happy in the end.

Finally after what seemed like hours the door opened and Sam came out holding a small mountain of papers in his hands. And the dog followed after him closely.

Sam's eyes were red and puffed up a bit, a sign he had been crying, but his smile was as wide as anything and that just made it all the more brighter for Dean.

"So what's the name of the fur ball?" Dean asked, standing up and holding his hand out for the dog to sniff.

Sam smiled and laid a hand on top of her head, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing against her. "Jessica." he said softly.

Dean nodded and gave a smile of his own. "Yeah, that fits her."

-----------------

And slowly, things started to get better bit by bit. Jessica being there didn't make it all go away, Sam still had nightmares, but she did manage to make it a bit more manageable. By the time Dean would reach him, they had tried to start sleeping in separate beds again, Jessica had managed to help calm him down enough that they could actually either talk or Dean felt safe enough to leave him alone.

Sam had even started to leave the bunker on his own too, he had to take a different car though because he let Jessica in the passenger seat and Dean drew the line at letting a dog in the passenger seat. Backseat was fine, but not in front.

Sam would go into town, him and Jessica, to do supply runs or get their mail or even at times meet up with other hunters to give them artifacts or objects or get something that needed to be looked over.

And in all honesty it made Dean more willing to go outside as well, something he had avoided unless it was necessary. He had been a mixture of ashamed and embarrassed at the people seeing his cane but now, he learned to just tell them mentally to fuck off and he didn't give as much of a damn.

He could still be without the pitied looks from other hunters but he also learned to pick his battles.

Dean drank slowly from his beer, Sam had decided to lift the ban on alcohol for an evening but was still limiting him from too much, he was only allowed a single bottle. He tried to savor the taste but couldn't really find it in him to even like the taste anymore. He then slid the bottle to Sam and got himself a bottle of soda instead.

He ignored Sam's little satisfied smile and ignored the bottles of juices in the refrigerator as well, he needed something that wasn't healthy.

He was actually drinking some of those juices when he was alone, somewhat out of curiosity and somewhat out of boredom and needing a new drink but he'd rather not mention that to Sam now or ever.

Sam, annoying but loyal little brother that he was, didn't say anything and bought a variety of flavors instead.

He was also sure that if his liver could talk, it would be thanking him profusely for the change in drinks.

They decided to ignore everything else tonight as well, setting up their emails and phones for emergencies only. Dean cooked them dinner, steak and vegetables to pacify Sam, something that Jessica enjoyed as well once she got her cut of the meat. As always she was sitting next to and under the table to Sam, though she often would nose over to Dean and stare up at him woefully, and look too much like her master, for more bits of his steak.

Dean couldn't help but smile as he offered her another piece, his hand coming up to rub at her head, glancing up at his brother.

Sam smiled back at him, sipping his carrot juice, he had said that it was good for his eyesight and Dean would admit to himself only that maybe he'd be needing some of that soon.

“Never thought that it would come to this.” Sam said softly, spearing a piece of potato. “Never really thought that we'd be able to retire like this.”

Dean nodded, rolling the bottle in his hand. “Definitely didn't think that it would be like this.” He said, glancing at his cane, he had to admit that it was a good one. Both the handle and the post were heavy and comfortable, and could be used as a possible weapon. He had thrown it at the wall at one point in the beginning and it had made a hole in the wall to go through and he had thrown it long ways.

He could feel Jessica nudging at him once more for more scraps and he shook his head fondly as he cut her another piece and fed it to her under the table.

Sam was across from him, looking healthy and well rested, his entire body relaxed and at ease. They had no bags under their eyes and while their bodies did sometimes hurt when it was going to rain but they had no other pain to bother them anymore.

Dean nodded to himself and lifted his bottle up, angling it towards his brother. Sam looked amused for a moment before he lifted his bottle as well.

“We made it Sammy.” Dean said softly, his hands no longer having any callouses from guns and only from pens. “We did it.”

Sam smiled and tapped his bottle against Deans. “Yeah we did.” he said just as softly. “I'm...I'm really happy Dean.”

“Me too Sammy.” Dean said, bringing his bottle up to take a drink. “Me too.”

There really was no other place he wanted or needed to be, hunting, research, or farming, none of it mattered so long as Sam was with him. In the end, that was all he needed, he just wanted and needed his little brother by his side.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #SPN #366 #169/366 #366 day challenge #366 days of writing #to be settled #oneshot #spn summergen #supernatural summergen

[sydkn3e]

Lay Your Weary Head to Rest

“Had a damn good run, didn’t we?”

They’re the first words that either of them have spoken in hours.

Cas shifts in his seat. He reaches down, squeezes Dean’s hand. It’s frail, a little wrinkled, thin skin spread across sharp bone. He swallows; Dean hears his throat click. He looks up at him, furrowing his brow.

“We did,” Cas says finally, meeting his gaze. Those same wide blue eyes, the same look, even after all these years. Like Dean’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.

Dean gives him a smile, dropping his gaze to the bedside table when Cas smiles back. An old photo stares back at him, one that had taken them several tries to get right, with Dean struggling to set the timer and Jack hardly ever looking at the camera. They’d finally gotten one, though, of the four of them, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, smiles on all their faces. Cas and Dean in the middle, Sam to Dean’s right, Jack to Cas’s left. Dean’s gaze hovers over Sam.

“He knows?”

Cas nods.

Dean swallows. “He’s good?”

Cas leans forward in his chair, laying his other hand on top of Dean’s. “He’s happy.”

“Happy.” Dean huffs a laugh, rubbing a hand over his chest. “I’ll be damned.”

“It’s the very least what you both deserve.”

Dean closes his eyes, breathing in deep and letting it out slowly. He thinks of Cas. Of the day they saved him from the Empty. The day Chuck gave him his powers back. The day they said secret vows to each other one night after a rugaru hunt, and Sam’s knowing smile when they’d returned home.

He thinks of Jack. Of the first time he ever drove the Impala. The first time he went on date. He thinks of his inquisitiveness and kindness. He thinks of how the three of them raised a kid seemingly pre-destined for evil to be one of the most empathetic people he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

He thinks of Sam. Oh, does he think of Sam. He thinks of the Sam he saved from the nursery all those years ago, the Sam who ditched school and a loving girlfriend to help his family. He thinks of the Sam who saved his life numerous times. The Sam who beat Lucifer. The Sam who saved the world.

Sam died peacefully in his sleep just a few short years ago, with his wife by his side. He was happy. Dean was happy for him.

Dean opens his eyes. Cas looks at him, and he knows. They both do.

“It’s time.”

Cas lets out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

Dean blinks up at him. Cas’s eyes are glassy, his lips slightly parted. He looks the same as he always has, the same as he always will. A picture frozen in time.  

“You gonna be there when I wake up?”

Cas’s face contorts, eyebrows drawn together, eyes downturned in the corners. He tilts his head, leaning in closer, holding Dean’s hand between his own and pressing it to his lips as he speaks.

“Of course.”

Dean smiles and squeezes Cas's hand. He closes his eyes, and finally lets himself sleep.

----

When he opens his eyes again, Dean squints against a bright light. It fades slowly and he blinks, chasing away the black spots in his vision. There's a old door, light streaming underneath, knob old and tarnished. He reaches out it, turns it, and steps inside.

It's Rocky's.

Soft music from the jukebox fills the space, but Dean's focus is drawn to the man sitting at the bar, two chilled beers open in front of him.

Sam turns, laying an arm across the bar. He looks like his old self, devoid of wrinkles and gray hair. He smiles, sliding one of the beers to the stool beside him.

“There you are. We've been waiting.”

Dean's breath hitches and he swallows. Something in his periphery catches his eye and he looks over, seeing his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. His meets a wide- eyed gaze, a smooth face with faint freckles. A face he barely remembers. A face he hasn't seen in forty years.

He slowly reaches up, watching his reflection, and touches his cheek with a hard bob of his Adam’s apple. The skin feels as smooth as it looks, with some peach fuzz to go with it. Dean takes a step back and looks down at himself, almost laughing when he sees his old body. He’s wearing clothes he hasn’t worn in ages, old hunter flannel with jeans and thick boots. Dean feels...young, light, like him again. His hands look strong, not withered and trembling with the effort just to hold a damn cup of coffee. Dean almost wants to unzip himself just to see-

“Dude, do not look at your junk with me here,” came Sammy’s voice again.

Dean snaps his head up, blinks, and grins. It’s a little wobbly, and his eyes are blurry, but he walks up to his little brother slowly and stops just a few feet from him. He looks at him- really looks at him- and swallows past the lump on his throat. So many memories come rushing back his knees almost buckle. His death had been hard, of course, but not surprising. Few hunters got to grow old like they did. Settle down. Have families. Sam passing in his sleep had been a miracle.  

Dean finally slides into the barstool next to Sam and wraps his fingers around the beer. It’s cold and Dean bets it never gets warm.

“So,” he says, voice rough and unsteady, “this is…”

“Heaven,” Sam nods, taking a casual sip of his beer. As if he isn’t sitting in a bar in Heaven, looking 40 years younger, in a bar that doesn’t really exist. Then again, he’s had some time to get used to this.

“You, uh…” Dean licks his lips, running his thumb over the cool glass of the bottle. “You said ‘we’. Who, uh…”

“Everyone,” Sam chuckles softly, setting his beer down with a quiet thunk. “Bobby, Charlie, Kevin, Jo, Ellen, mom...dad.” He shrugs and turns in his seat, bracing an arm over the bar. “But I wanted some time with my brother first.”

Dean clenches his jaw and nods, his throat bobbing. He can’t think of all their faces right now. It’s too much and of course Sam knows that. Knows he wouldn’t have been able to handle all of them at the start, at once. That’s the real reason Sam insisted he go first and Dean is grateful his brother knows him so well.

“How are you...here?” Dean asks, finally looking up, taking in the face he hasn’t seen in years. Decades. “I thought in Heaven everyone stuck to their own little piece of paradise.”

Sam shrugs, rapping his knuckles on the worn wood of the bar. “Let’s just say you have it in with an angel who apparently has a lot of pull around here. Plus, I think Chuck kinda owes us one.”

Dean’s eyes suddenly glance around sharply, searching for that familiar blue tie and trench coat. Cas isn’t there, though, and Dean tries to push away the flutter of panic in his chest. Cas promised he’d be here when Dean “woke”. He’ll be here.

“Sammy, it’s…” Dean huffs and scrubs a hand down his face, then finally pulls Sam into a tight hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Sam says roughly, patting Dean on the back hard. The hug probably lasts longer than it should, but fuck if either of them care.

“How-how you been?” Dean asks, pulling away and finally taking a chug of his beer. It’s perfect.

“Really...really good,” Sam laughs, tucking some hair behind his ear. Dean doesn’t have it in him to poke fun at the length. Yet. “I kinda thought I’d get bored, you know? But...I dunno, man. It’s nice to just...be. Peaceful. Nice to know it’s finally done for us. Whatever happens down there...it’s up to the next generation now.”

Dean nods in understanding. Despite them “retiring”, a hunter never really stops. They slow down, sure, but never stop until their bodies just physically couldn’t keep up anymore. Or something ate them. Either way. Sammy and Eileen had married, moved into a beautiful house, had a kick-ass daughter and a dog. But even through that, Sam had still helped out where he could. Researched cases for other hunters, found cases and hunters to take care of it. Even joined a case every once and a while, but that had been rare.

Dean had taken longer to pass the mantle, so to speak. Habits die hard and all that. Him and Cas took over the bunker, made it a sort of way station and safe house for any hunter- or victim- in need. It was Cas’s insistence that finally made Dean give up active hunting. It had been surprisingly easy once he did. Domesticity had never been something Dean ever thought he could have, but with Cas...well, the angel always made things easier. And it helped that Cas always found interesting ways to keep Dean occupied.

He had always felt a bit anxious, though. Waiting for the next apocalypse, the next big bad to come and fuck everything up. Sam is right. It’s nice to know he’s done now. He can rest, knowing that all those nasty monsters aren’t his problem anymore.

“You think we taught him well enough, then?” Dean asks, spinning the bottle against the wooden bar.

“He's got this,” Sam says reassuringly. “And even if we didn't… Cas is helpin’ him. When he needs it.”

“Cas.”

“Yeah.” Sam looks over at him, tapping a finger against his bottle. “He was with you, there at the end, wasn’t he?”

Dean looks down at his glass and smiles, huffing a laugh. “Yeah. ‘Course he was.” He raises his head and catches Sam’s eye, finding his brother smiling softly at him. Dean coughs once and clears his throat, looking back down as he fingers the Cosmic Cowboy label on his bottle. “He, uh...he said he’d be here.”

“Dean.”

Dean snaps his head up, and there he is.

Cas is standing at the other end of the bar, with a case of Grackle stout in his bare arms. He’s wearing a Rocky’s t-shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and swept to the side in the way Dean had come to love over the years.

Dean slides out of his seat, grinning.

“Cas.”

Cas smiles widely, complete with eye crinkles, and sits the case on the top of the bar. Dean starts over to him and Cas rounds the bar, his arms wrapping around Dean’s waist when Dean throws his arms around him.

“It’s really you,” Dean murmurs into his neck, eyes swimming.

“I told you I’d be here.”

Dean swallows and closes his eyes. He thinks about how he’s never felt more at home, more content, more happy than he does at this very moment, finally getting to live peacefully with his brother and the love of his life. With all the people that ever made his life worth anything.

With the person who made him realize his life was worth something.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean lets out a gasping sob masked inside a laugh. “Love you too, Cas.”

Dean pulls back and touches a hand to Cas’s cheek, then claps him on the shoulder, squeezing softly. He looks back at Sam and runs a hand down his face, wiping away stray tears. He quirks a smile, tilting his head.

“End of the line, eh, boys?”

“I like to think of it as the beginning,” Cas says sagely, pressing his lips together into a smile when the brothers look at him.

Sam smiles, cheeks dimpling, and shrugs. “Nothing ever really ends, does it?”

Collaboration with my cowriter and soulmate @deanmon69 🖤🖤

#destiel #supernatural #s15 end prediction #happiest ending we could imagine #our writing #deanmon69 #team free will

[ajaegerpilot]

It wasn’t that Dean wasn’t happy to have his dad back, he was; he was over the moon about it. His mom was alive, his dad was alive, hell – Sam, Jack, and Cas were all alive. Dad had made up with his sons, was working on things with Mary, and he liked Jack. So Dean of course was . . . again, beyond thrilled to have his entire family back, pieced together. Things were great. That just left Cas.

It wasn’t that Dean wasn’t happy to have his dad back, he was; he was over the moon about it. His mom was alive, his dad was alive, hell – Sam, Jack, and Cas were all alive. In the evenings, they’d get together around the dining room table where Dean would serve proper meals for his family who would alternate pitching in.

Somehow, John being there grounded them into some sort of a structure; instead of everyone grabbing what they wanted from the fridge whenever they wanted it, they’d all get together for dinner. Being surrounded by his family like that was the closest Dean had ever gotten to a happy ending, or the happiest he’d been before the other shoe dropped. He woke up some mornings not believing it was real.

First thing, John had gotten himself acquainted with the Bunker, finding out what he could about his heritage, the Men of Letters, and what else he’d missed in the years he’d been gone. New monsters bumped in the night – angels and archangels, the Darkness and the Nothing. It’d be a push to say that John was jumping back in the saddle to hunt, even Dean was getting close to being too old for that, but it wasn’t like the man was ready to retire either.

Also, it was weird, seeing his mom and dad together again. Mary’d had difficulties enough fitting back together with this new version of her life, and the twenty-odd years that had passed without her, John included in them. They’d pumped the brakes a bit, which Dean could respect, but Dean kind of didn’t want to pay too much attention to it. He didn’t need to see them feeling things out again; they were his parents for Christ’s sake.

Sam and John had managed to make some sort of amends. Sam had been able to admit that he’d probably never be able to fully leave the hunter’s life, and John had managed to admit that he should’ve never dragged his kids into that life to begin with, that he should’ve found some alternative. And maybe those were just hollow words, but Dean could see it helped for Sam. The two of them weren’t suddenly buddy-buddy, but things were easier, a little lighter maybe.

It was an odd fit overall, Dean could admit, to suddenly be alive again and find the kids you’d raised had grown a family of their own. John liked Jack well enough, didn’t fully trust him which Dean could get – they still hadn’t told him about the whole spawn of Satan thing, thought better against that. But, given the kid was polite and curious and loyal as hell, he and John got along just fine.

And Dean of course was . . . again, beyond thrilled to have his entire family back, pieced together. John didn’t treat Dean like a kid anymore, which, granted, was a hard thing to do when they were roughly the same age. But yeah, there was a bit of respect there. Still a little weird, but that was ironing itself out. Things were great. So . . . that left Cas.

Initially, John seemed to like Cas. He was interested in the angels, and Cas had kind of shut him down. Told him that a lot of what Cas had been able to do had kind of – worn and torn over the years. Actually, overall Cas had been pretty cold to John. He didn’t like him for whatever reason. Dean didn’t take it personally. His dad could be pretty prickly, and Cas wouldn’t be the first person not to like him. In fact, Bobby still pretty much hated his guts.

The weird thing was, though, that John kind of dug the fact that Cas was withholding. In retrospect it was possible that it’d gone straight over John’s head that Cas didn’t like him, and that he’d interpreted Cas’s dislike as some sort of macho stoicism. Cas not liking you led to pretty brisk conversations, and John loved efficiency so. On the surface, John seemed to like Castiel so Dean’d hardly been pressed to convince Cas to change his behaviour.

But eventually something else gave. It’d been maybe the third hunt John had tagged along for – Jack and Cas in the backseat, John riding passenger-side (because as much as Dean loved his dad, and he did, he hadn’t even let his mom drive Baby, and fuck if he’d risk relinquishing her now). Once inside the place, Jack and John had split off, with Cas sticking around with Dean – one angel for each broken old man – and Dean had gotten his ass soundly kicked.

With the ghosts all salted and burned, Dean aching and bruised, Cas had reached out to help Dean back to his feet, to heal him the way he usually did. “You should be more careful,” Cas had lectured as Dean got upright again.

“Okay, yeah, says my backup,” Dean had grouched back, and Cas had actually smiled a little at that, carefully smoothing his hand across Dean’s arm with a gentle touch. It was always a little jarring, being healed, but it was pleasant too. Like getting knots out of your back through a massage that sat just on that edge of pain.

Getting healed had usually been accompanied by some sort of baggage for Dean, mostly because it meant that Dean had made some dumb mistake to get his ass in a state that needed healing, so he rarely felt he deserved it. But over the years Cas had worn Dean down to a point where healing was something – not routine, because Dean’d be damned if he’d say that he needed it often – but normal enough. And nice enough to enjoy.

That day, in addition to the warm buzz of Cas fixing him up, Dean felt good about the success of the hunt, so he’d let himself grin a little at Cas who’d looked away, smiling at himself. He’d been teasing Cas, of course, about being his backup. He and Cas worked well together; it wasn’t Cas’s fault that Dean’d gotten himself thrown ten feet into a brick wall. But the credit of putting Dean back together? That was all Cas’s.

And then John had rounded the corner and caught sight of Cas’s hand on Dean’s arm. There wasn’t anything weird about it, beyond the fact that Dean had been leaning into it and grinning sappily while Cas smiled right back. But still, Dean remembered himself, pulled back. But John had registered it. Every last inch of it. Round about that time, John started treating Cas differently.

“Cas gonna be joining us for dinner?” Mary asked, smiling over at Dean. There were two empty seats that evening, belonging to the two resident angels, leaving a gap at the head of the table and a gap to Dean’s right.

“Uh, him and Jack are off doing some angelic breathing exercises in the basement,” Dean explained, feeling awkward because John’s eyes had flickered up from his plate to watch Dean’s response. “They’ll uh . . . be done at seven and there’s plenty left over for Jack. Plus, Cas doesn’t need to eat, he just . . . likes to.” God, Dean felt weird, like he’d just listed out some intimate detail about Cas in front of his father.

“Oh, yes, I forgot,” Mary laughed to herself. “You’ve gotten yourself a pretty weird angel, Dean.” Dean couldn’t help but crack a grin at that, his mother’s warmth distracting him from all else. He wanted to tell her about the time Cas had eaten hundreds of hamburgers one Valentine’s day; how Famine had been fucking with him and how Cas’d insisted he could quit anytime because he was an angel. That had been one of the worst days of Dean’s life up till that point, but Cas had been pretty funny in retrospect.

Then John spoke up, moody, “Sure we should leave him alone with Jack?”

“What?” Sam laughed. “It’s not like Cas’s gonna accidentally drown him in the tub.” Out of the three of them Dean probably had the most practice being a father, but Cas was no slouch himself. Dean didn’t know the details of what he and Jack were up to, but it wasn’t like Cas would let Jack do anything dangerous.

“They bathe together?” John asked, eyes widening.

“What?” Sam repeated, laughter fading from his face, quickly drawing into discomfort. His eyes darted between Dean and Mary, then back to John, because there were no answers. All of John’s strange looks at Cas, how his attitude towards him had so swiftly changed, all clicked into place for Dean then.

“Listen, all due respect, but what the hell’s your problem with Cas?” he suddenly bit out, sick and tired of John’s bullshit.

“Nothing,” John said curtly. It was an obvious lie, and one that was undercut with some irritation, probably due to the fact that his opinions on Cas were even being challenged. “I’m sure he’s a fine man but he’s. Well.” John wasn’t denying it, and the way he spoke was so . . . disgusted. “He’s a little – off.” Off.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked.

“Language, Dean,” John said, voice harsh with warning.

“I’m friggin’ forty,” Dean said, getting to his feet. “And this is my house. Answer my question.” Jesus, if he’d ever talked to his dad like that when he was young – God help him. Sam shifted in his seat in a way Dean immediately recognized, obviously ready to stand with him in a fight if he needed it. He didn’t need it.

“Now I’m not saying anything,” John said coldly. “But there is something strange about him that – I’ll come out and say it – I don’t trust around my family.” Dean got so angry so fast he almost felt woozy.

“Cas is part of this family, and you might not like him, Dad, but that’s nothing new!” he said, almost yelling. “I mean – hell, half the time, this family hated each other! And you not liking Cas ain’t gonna change the fact that he’s one of us, so Dad –” Dean took a breath, “You’re just gonna have to get used to him.”

He felt flushed, jumpy, and pissed off. But John was not one to back down. “Oh, he’s family?” he asked, playing with his scotch glass, voice ugly with something Dean didn’t want to name. “How’s he family? You two get hitched when I was gone?” What the fuck?

“Jesus Christ, Dad,” Sam complained loudly, pushing his plate aside.

“John, that’s enough,” Mary snapped.

“I’m just saying,” John went on, holding up his hands. “If Dean’s sweet on him, at least that makes sense.” Dean’s mouth dried up.

“Enough!” Mary yelled. She looked beyond pissed. “John, get your coat. We’re going for a walk.”

Dean was cleaning up after dinner. John was weird about that too sometimes. Shooting Dean looks, just because Dean was washing the fucking dishes. They couldn’t exactly get a dishwasher installed in a secret bunker, so everything had to be done manually. Dean didn’t mind doing the work, but his dad’s judgement got under his skin. Especially after the argument.

His hands were still shaking a little. Which was weird enough, Dean didn’t usually get the shakes anymore. Sure, he was older, and yeah that had gotten heated, maybe too heated, but. Dean hadn’t thought it’d affect him like this. What Dad had said . . . clearly he thought Cas was gay. And when Dean defended him . . . he’d implied Dean was gay, too.

Dean could take a lot of shit from his old man, and always had, but he’d be fucked if he’d let John talk down about the people he cared about. Dean’s prime directive as a kid had been to take care of Sam, so when Sam and John had fought and Dean had had to pick a side it’d been pretty much impossible. Now Dean was older, he’d had a life without his dad. His dad would have to fit into it, not the other way around. Dean scrubbed the dish in his hand particularly hard.

Dean had heard Cas approach, his steps soft on the floor. Dean could appreciate him not sneaking up anymore, he was getting too old for the jump scares. “I heard you and your father had an argument,” Cas spoke up softly, regretful. “I’m sorry I was the cause.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a dick,” Dean sighed. Dean had thought it’d been different now, because . . . it sort of had been. Dean didn’t feel the need to look over his shoulder constantly regarding stupid shit like whether or not he was eyeing a guy for a second too long. There was a chance that this was, to an extent, because it had become second nature to him over the years, something Dean carried without even noticing. It just went out the window around Cas, apparently. “I just . . . forgot.”

Cas picked up a dish and dishcloth from the sink, scratching harshly at some food that had crusted up because Mom was apparently an inconsiderate roommate. “He is a dick,” Cas agreed, voice barely above a growl. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. He’d been right about Cas not liking John.

“Anyway, he’s just . . .” Dean went on, not sure how to phrase it. “Old-fashioned. Stars and stripes, that kind of thing.” For Christ’s sake, John didn’t even like the fact that Dean cooked – it was beyond bizarre the hang-ups he had, especially considering that Dean’d been cooking for Sam and himself since before he hit puberty. “It’s not like you’re actually into dudes he’s just . . . you get it.” Because Cas usually did.

“Right,” was all Cas said in response, apparently not too happy with Dean’s explanation. Dean glanced over at him, finding him frowning. Dean didn’t know what else to say. Cas squinted ahead. “Why do you suppose your father cares about my sexuality?” he asked. “Or yours?”

Dean couldn’t blame Cas for asking, but it was a difficult question. How could he explain to an angel, one that was apparently fine with gay people, that plenty of humans thought gay sex was weird, wrong, or gross? John’s view on the subject had never been something Dean had questioned he was younger.

Dean hadn’t believed in God, much less a God that gave a shit about what he did in the bedroom, but he hadn’t had to – he’d had his own family to worry about. Dean had just accepted John’s distaste and kept that part to himself. And it wasn’t that John had necessarily been a loudmouthed asshole about it, the way he’d been at dinner. When Dean was young his father’s views had been so self-evident that John hadn’t even had to say it out loud the way he had to now.

In his life, Dean’d had what he’d consider a healthy level of curiosity, especially when he was younger, especially when he was alone for the first time in his life after Sam had gone to college and Dad had been off on his own Odyssey. It’d just been some fun, some bullshit for Dean to forget about by the time the sun rose. He honestly hadn’t thought about it in years. He’d been doing a . . . he’d been doing a good job with that.

“Well, it’s not exactly standard practice, two guys,” Dean said, clearing his throat. At the end of the day, Dean had to believe that everything about John, even the sharp, fucked up parts, were about protecting the ones he cared about. And Dean could remember firsthand that . . . being with a guy was a ticket to misery and danger, especially when you could be with a woman instead. “He’s just looking out for his family, in his own way.”

Cas still wasn’t satisfied with this answer, though he’d gotten Dean to dig pretty deep. “But, why do you suppose he cares about me?” Dean felt himself start to get flustered because it seemed like Cas was trying to drive towards some type of point and Dean couldn’t see the end of the road.

He didn’t know how to put this nicely. Cas was a badass, but he was also really . . . gentle sometimes. Not feminine per say, but it wasn’t like Cas was ripping apart mountain lions with his bare hands 24/7. Softness hadn’t exactly been a valued trait in the Winchester household, as far as Dean recalled. It translated to weakness, and liking men was to willingly paint a target on your back.

“Dude, I don’t know. He just got back, maybe his brain’s cooked,” he said, trying to laugh it off. “Seriously, Cas, don’t pay attention to him.” Winchesters weren’t the most rational bunch when it came to family, and Cas didn’t need to worry himself over anything John said, he’d earned his keep. But Cas shook his head, effectively rejecting Dean’s suggestions.

“He cares,” he said, firmly. “Because I care, Dean.” He caught Dean’s eye, leaning in closer, like he hadn’t done in years, like he really wanted Dean to pay attention. “Because it’s so easy to care about you that I can’t hide it, as hard as I’ve tried.” Dean couldn’t hold Cas’s gaze. He looked down at the water in the sink, at the soap clinging to his arms. What the hell?

“Dude, saying shit like this is exactly why everyone thinks you’re gay,” he muttered. Why everyone thought him and Dean were together. He’d tried to tell it like a joke, but it was the truth.

“If your father ever makes you feel lesser,” Cas said, solemn as a soldier. “Just remember that I care for you so obviously that he noticed. You’re worth treating well. As long as I don’t make you uncomfortable, I don’t plan to stop.” Dean didn’t know what to say that. So, he didn’t say anything. Together, they finished doing the dishes in silence.

Mom and Sam had probably managed to chisel John down into something presentable. Dean had been too pissed for it, and the stony silence around the house the past while had been pretty harsh. But, eventually, John grated out over dinner one night, “Listen, Castiel, I want to apologize. I said some unfair things about you a few nights back.”

“Oh?” Cas asked, tone polite even though Dean could recognize he was pissed. “Like what?”

“It’s embarrassing,” John allowed, shifting in his seat with some shame. “I thought you were gay.” Castiel nodded, expression not betraying anything.

“You want to apologize to me for thinking that I’m attracted to men,” he observed.

“Yes,” John gritted out. “And I’m hoping that you can accept my apology.”

“Should I have found it insulting?” Cas asked, and he had a dangerous sort of stillness about him. He looked up at John and stared him dead in the eye. “You were right.” Sam choked on his water.

John was determined to apologize. “Sorry,” he said again, raising his voice and rising to his feet. Dean moved aside his chair, ready to spring into action. “Listen. You’re an angel and you possess vessels like a demon would. I shoulda figured there could be some sort of mismatch. It’s not your fault.” If anything, that pissed Cas off more.

“I can assure you, there’s no problem,” Cas started in.

“I’d have to disagree with that,” John said coldly, and this argument and chance to show up Cas in front of everybody was obviously what he’d been waiting for. Dean got to his feet, putting himself between the two of them in the conversation.

“Alright, Dad,” Dean called out, voice hard. “That’s enough. If Cas is gay, we –” but he couldn’t finish the sentence. He looked over to his side at Cas and blinked. He was gay? Cas’s expression of anger melted into something else under Dean’s eyes, to something horrified and pale. Sam let out a harsh laugh, cutting through the air.

“It’s okay to be gay, Dad, it’s 2019,” he said, a little snootily, standing up to walk over to Cas and Dean’s side of the table. He put his hand on Cas’s shoulder. “It’s not any of our business.” Dean’s mouth dried.

“Right,” he said, voice splintering in his throat. He swallowed. But the way Cas looked over at Dean, eyes wide, panicked like he was begging Dean to not change his mind about him based on this revelation. So, Dean put a pin in it. “He’s still Cas and he’s still part of this family and if you need to – if you need to take some time to accept that, then Dad – you better get started now.” He took in a shaky breath.

John looked at Dean like . . . like he was a goddamn stranger. Looked at him like he had that time Dean had nearly gotten Sammy killed as a kid. But now, with this underlying trace of disgust. Dean got hit with something like nostalgia, because he realized it wasn’t the first time he’d seen that look in his dad’s eyes.

Dean gritted his teeth and steeled himself. John could look at Dean anyway he liked, but he had to respect Cas. Seeming to realize this, John nodded and left the table, nearly knocking over his chair. Dean sank back into his seat. Mary apologized to Cas many times, but Dean hardly heard her.

Baby needed her tires changed for the winter, and Dean was getting comfortable working on that and other things on her that needed primping. It was easier than hanging out in the house where Mom was reconsidering her marriage, Jack was pacing around like a puppy left alone for the first time, with Cas and John avoiding each other, and Sam preening like he’d just announced himself president of the GSA.

It was easy to shut off and ignore all that was happening out here, easy to mute the thoughts Dean might’ve had on the subject. Well, not easy, but easier to deal with when those thoughts inevitably crept back in. This was a safe place to think about them when he did. And, Dean did.

So, Cas was gay. Dean didn’t know why he was surprised. The guy had never exactly been crazy about the ladies. Dean had chalked it up to him being an angel but, in retrospect, some of the horniest devils Dean’d ever had the misfortune of dealing with, Gabriel, Balthazar, had been batting for Heaven’s team so. That theory didn’t exactly hold water up to any sort of scrutiny.

Dean had just . . . never thought about it. Shrugged off all the comments. People didn’t get it, him and Cas. Hell, when he was younger, people had thought Dean and his brother were together sometimes. As if Dean was gonna start taking their opinions seriously now. Cas and Dean had a pretty unique relationship, given their history, and if people looked at it and thought it was some weird sex thing, that was their own problem. Dean liked women and so did Cas . . . or so Dean had thought.

Cas had some experience with women, not as much as Dean or even Sam but still, some. He could list them off on his fingers, and he only needed the one hand. First, Cas’d had that thing with Meg, which had never really gone anywhere, despite the number of opportunities they’d had to take it somewhere. He’d also been married at one point, to some religious nut that they’d never seen again and honestly, could probably still claim her promise ring if she needed to.

Then, more recently there had been Hannah . . . but she’d kind of been Cas’s relative, technically, so . . . Dean didn’t really know how far he could press all that. Cas’d at least had sex with women before. Or at least, with that one reaper – who’d shoved an angel blade through his ribcage immediately afterwards. If Cas walked away from that feeling like he was gay, Dean couldn’t really blame him.

Still. Dean felt like it was something he should’ve . . . he should’ve noticed. His best friend was gay. Dean felt like he’d cheated him somehow by not paying close enough attention, or too close attention to the wrong things. Memories of their night at the brothel all those years ago – and Cas’s shit flirting with Chastity, brought heat to his neck. God he was stupid.

Dean heard a knock at the doorway. He glanced up from his work at the tire, spotting his dad. “Son,” John said. And then softer, “Dean . . . I want to talk. If . . . that’s alright.” Dean felt a wave of dread card through him – Christ, what was this going to be about? Dean braced himself, turned away from the car.

“Yeah, Dad?” he asked, keeping his tone light and even, even while he folded his arms.

“I . . . wanted to . . . apologize,” his dad said. “About what I said about your friend. You and your brother are right . . . it’s none of my business. And if you guys trust him – well – I trust you. I’m fine with it now.”

“Maybe you should talk to Cas about that,” Dean said, letting himself be a little cold about it. Fortunately, John laughed a little, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

“Yeah, maybe I should,” he agreed. He amended, “I will. He’ll probably be thinking about killing me the whole time but . . . I will. I don’t . . . I don’t want us to fight. The way we used to.” Dean nodded, throat clenched.

“We never used to,” he managed to choke out. “You and me.” And not because Dean had never disagreed with him. But because he’d trusted his dad. Hell, he’d sided with him over Sam. Sam had left Dean, but Dean had left Sam too, in his own way.

“Yeah, I know, son,” John said, putting his hand on the Impala. His lips stretched into a small smile as he ran his hand along her. “You’ve taken good care of her,” he noted.

“Yeah,” Dean said, letting the pride burn in his chest, a low flame.

“You know, I’m just not used to this world,” John had to say. “A whole lot can change in twelve years apparently. And now, with – with the multiple genders, not to mention the marriage thing, I can’t keep up with all that. And, I’m sorry, but it’s just . . . not normal.”

And Dean couldn’t keep it in. “Damn it, Dad, what the hell even is normal?” he asked bitterly. “For this family, for us?” The way John had raised Dean and Sam, and he had the audacity to talk about what being normal was? “Cas is a good guy. If you bothered to find out, you’d know he’s given more to this family than even you or mom have.”

“And is it . . . is it that fucking bad? Really?” Dean couldn’t stop because it was rapidly become apparent to him how shitty the whole situation was. “I mean, Christ dad – things have changed since Ellen came out. Trump is president, weirder things are happening than two guys – or girls – getting it on.”

“And . . . you and mom were . . .” Dean’s voice was suddenly incredibly tight. But fuck if he was going to get teary-eyed in front of his father. He took a deep breath, and got himself under control enough to say, “You love her so much and . . . Cas deserves a shot at something like that and if he can only get that with a dude then fuck it. I’ll wave that rainbow flag because Cas deserves that much.”

John seemed to take just one thing from all that. “Listen, Dean . . . are you gay?”

Dean straightened himself out and said, “No, what the hell – we’re talking about Cas and your problem with him!”

John didn’t budge. “Dean. I don’t get it and I won’t,” he said. “But fine. You’re right. It’s a new world and my opinion doesn’t count for much anymore.” And then he said something Dean hadn’t expected. “Just want you to know that if you are . . . that’s fine by me, too.”

Dean wanted to defend himself but John just kept pushing on, saying, “I don’t want to think about it but, if you are . . .”

Dean could feel his throat constricting. “Dad, I still like women,” he said, because that’s all his brain kept looping around to. His father thought he was gay.

“Dad,” he said, knowing how desperate he sounded, “You don’t even know how many women I’ve been with!” The countless one-night stands in seedy motel rooms, Cassie, Rhonda, Robin – names he couldn’t even remember, guilty as he felt about it, and John had never even met Lisa. Just because Dean wasn’t with anyone right now, didn’t mean that he liked men. It didn’t.

The next look John gave him was sad. But at least he didn’t look so goddamn repulsed anymore. “It’s okay, son,” he said. “You’re a good friend. And I’m proud of you. I just . . . want you to know that.” Dean settled, some of the fight draining out of him. He nodded.

This wasn’t a hug and make up moment. Hell, John would probably call Dean gay if he tried to make it into one. Which was fine, because Dean didn’t want it to be. He let it hang between them, ugly and painful, until John, after what felt like hours, nodded and left, quietly closing the door behind him. Dean kept standing there for awhile. He thought about what his dad had said. He thought about it a lot.

Dean was in his room, lying on his bed with his laptop warm on his chest, just about ready to doze off. He’d had a big lunch earlier and he was feeling lethargic, eyes drooping shut by the time he heard Cas walk into the room. Cas hadn’t even bothered to knock. “Hey Cas,” Dean greeted, a little surprised by Cas’s sudden visit but not mad by a long shot. “What’s up?”

Cas hovered at the foot of Dean’s bed for a moment, looking conflicted but also relaxed somehow. Like he fit there alright. “Dean . . .” Cas said, in that gravelly voice of his. “Can we watch Netflix?” Castiel asked. Dean raised an eyebrow, but he made room for Cas on his bed.

“Sure, what’s your fancy?” he asked, moving his laptop off his chest and onto his lap, booting it up and drumming his hands across the keys like he was a hacker. Cas had never really spent that much time in Dean’s room but . . . they hadn’t talked one-on-one for awhile and Dean was missing it.

“Anything,” Cas said. “I’ll trust your judgement.” Well, that was a sore mistake. Dean put on Riverdale, just to gauge Cas’s reaction. Cas didn’t have any. He curled up next to Dean, leaning against the headboard of Dean’s bed, folding his arms to keep himself from falling off the side. He took care to maintain the few inches of space between him and Dean.

Cas had never cozied up on Dean’s bed like this, but Dean was too comfortable to insist they go to the living room to watch TV. Not to mention that his dad was probably there, and that’d be awkward. But now, even Sam or Jack, or Mary, being around, was not something Dean wanted to deal with. He was sleepy and Cas’s presence was warm and relaxing. Dean didn’t feel the need to involve others.

They watched quietly for awhile, as teenagers in their mid-twenties got themselves into hot shit, and Dean had started to doze off again when Cas stirred. “Your father apologized to me,” he spoke up. “Properly, this time. For the most part.”

“Hey, that’s good,” Dean said, cracking a lazy grin.

“I still don’t like him,” Cas said, frowning at Dean’s laptop. Dean chuckled, glancing up at Cas.

“Yeah, he’s a tough pill to swallow, but he’s my dad so,” he said. “I want you two to get along. Or at least . . . deal with each other.” He’d lived too long trying to mediate between the people he cared about, and really didn’t want to go through that again if he didn’t have to.

“I can try to do that,” Cas vowed, pulling at the blankets and pillows on Dean’s bed, shifting himself further down on the bed to make himself more comfortable next to Dean.

“You know,” Dean said, before his brain could catch up to his mouth. “Cas, I – that you’re gay . . . I’m cool with it.” They hadn’t had a chance to talk about it yet. Cas had withdrawn himself, Dean had been avoiding the house, not to mention how awkward the whole topic was. But Dean’d seen the look on Cas’s face, he’d been terrified. Dean had to tell Cas that it was okay and there was no time like the present.

“I know, Dean,” Cas murmured. “Or . . . I’d hoped.” He closed his eyes, settling next to Dean. He added, “I know gay men make you uncomfortable.” Jesus.

“Do I really come off like that?” Dean asked, shifting uncomfortably on his bed. Cas didn’t say anything. Because of course, Dean probably did. “I’ve been a real asshole,” Dean muttered and Cas, again, didn’t say anything. “It’s not like it has anything to do with me, right?” He looked over at the laptop screen, where Betty was being a weirdo once again. “None of my business,” he muttered to himself.

This time, when Cas didn’t say anything, Dean looked over at him. Cas’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t looking at the laptop, wasn’t looking at Dean. Dean’s mouth dried up. He didn’t know what to say. Eventually, he said, “Right, Cas?” And Cas started picking himself off the bed.

“Thanks for indulging me, Dean,” Cas said, already halfway out the door. “But I just remembered that Jack and I were going to spend some time together before dinner and I should go find him.” Cas was a shit liar.

“Hey, hey, Cas,” Dean said, suddenly wide awake, slamming his laptop shut and getting off the bed to follow Cas. “Hold on, can we . . . are you . . .”

“Dean,” Castiel said firmly, at the doorway. “I care for and respect you deeply. That will never change. Let’s leave it at that.” There was that same look on his face again. Terrified. Begging.

“Cas,” Dean said. Cas looked like a deer trapped in headlights. What the hell was Dean doing . . . “C’mere,” he said, soft like he was afraid Cas’d bolt. And Cas stayed and Dean, carefully, reached out to get his hands on either side of Cas’s face, just holding him there. God, Dean was too old for this. He bit the bullet.

Cas’s lips were surprisingly soft for how chapped they were. Dean had spent a lot of time wondering when he was younger what a trenchcoat-wearing salesman from Illinois was doing with a mouth like that but Cas suddenly moved, and put his mouth to good use. He wrapped his hands in Dean’s t-shirt and pulled him closer so they were right on top of each other.

“Dean,” Cas murmured when he broke away, looking up at Dean. Fuck, Dean felt a flush of panic chase through him.

“Cas,” Dean broke out, taking a step back and Cas let go of his shirt. “I can’t promise you – I can’t –” But Cas was looking at him with those wide blue eyes, looking so old and tired and – and scared but understanding that Dean cut himself off. “God,” he muttered to himself. “Screw it.” He grabbed Cas by his lapels and dragged him back to the bed.

Dean got Cas on his back and moved on top of him, nearly knocking his laptop to the floor in his haste. “Dean,” Cas gasped as Dean moved down from his mouth to his jaw, to his neck. Cas’s hands moved to the backs of Dean’s arms, gripping tight. “Dean, I don’t –”

“What, Cas?” Dean asked, moving up so that he could undo Cas’s tie. Cas was flustered, hair sticking up all over the place, eyes dark on Dean and lit with awe. It was a good look, Cas on Dean’s bed, trenchcoat bunched around his waist, his tongue wetting his lips as he worked to remember what to say.

“Shouldn’t we –” Cas got caught off with Dean’s mouth as Dean started working on his buttons, making room for himself there, a small moan hitching in Cas’s throat. Fuck Dean should’ve been doing this since always. Cas grappled with Dean’s arm with one hand and his other hand got control of Dean’s head, opening his mouth up. Dean could’ve melted against him.

Cas was actually a fantastic kisser, Dean had thought about it before, tons of times if Dean was going to start being honest with himself, and it was kind of blowing Dean’s mind. Just as Dean started to settle himself down onto Cas, anchoring him to the bed, Cas’s hands pushed him away. “Dean, we should talk about this,” Cas grunted out against Dean’s lips, sounding just as fucked up as Dean felt. “This is – you’re – what this means.”

“I’m a fucking dumbass is what this means,” Dean said, pressing a kiss to Cas’s jaw, then his neck, his collarbone. “And I’m a dumbass that’s going to make it up to you.” Cas’s hands on Dean’s face kept him from moving further. Dean looked back up at Cas, stilled, just enjoying the touch.

“I already knew that first part,” Cas told him dryly, but he was basically glowing beneath Dean. There was something else underlying it all, as he ran the pad of his thumb across Dean’s cheek, soft. “You don’t have to do this, Dean.” In response, Dean went for his zipper.

“Good thing I want to, then,” he said.

If John knew, which he almost certainly did, he didn’t talk about it. Likewise, Dean and Cas didn’t mention it. But Dean could bet that it was probably pretty obvious. The way Cas hung around after Dean, the way Dean tailed him in turn. There was an attempt to keep business and pleasure separated, but it was hard to manage with Cas so eventually they got figured out.

After a few days of acting supremely weird, Sam finally decided it was hilarious, and Jack had actually cried happy tears when he’d found out Cas and Dean were . . . kind of seeing each other, what that meant. And they’d still have dinner together most nights so, as it was, Dean really was living as best a life as he could hope for.

Tonight, Jack had been helping prep dinner but he’d run off with Sam to do research for a hunt out in Utah, so Dean was working alone. Or at least had been. “Hey, Dean,” Mary spoke up, smiling over at Dean, finding her way into the kitchen. “Mind if I give you a hand?”

“Of course, Mom,” Dean said, beaming at her. Mary rarely helped in the kitchen, mostly due to the fact that she was more of a liability than help, but it meant a lot that she was willing to give it a try.

“What are we making?” Mary asked, looking over the kitchen with a light in her eyes.

“Uh, pretty simple,” Dean said. “Just some soup, and I’m going to freeze some stock for later.”

“Oh wow, from scratch?” Mary asked, sounding really impressed. Dean couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, usually we just buy stock but since we had leftover chicken I figured I’d use it,” he said. “Wanna give it a shot?”

“Absolutely,” she said warmly.

“There’s some celery in the fridge, you can wash and chop them up,” Dean suggested. Mary nodded and obeyed.

Dean had no idea how Mary had ever put Dean under the impression that she’d known how to cook. It wasn’t like Dean was an amazing chef or anything, but he liked things to taste good and living here, really getting comfortable and building a home, had helped him build his repertoire of skills. She chopped up the celery in mismatched chunks and tossed them in the pot. When she was done, he handed her some carrots to work on.

They worked diligently, in silence, just the gentle chop-chop of knife on wood. He let her cut them up finer than she needed to. “I just wanted to let you know,” Mary spoke up after awhile. “That your father is alright with you and Castiel. But, if it ever comes to it, I’m always going to choose you, Dean. I’m always going to choose Cas.”

“You’d choose Cas?” Dean asked, surprised.

“Definitely,” Mary said firmly. She smiled. “You know . . . I’ve made some mistakes in my life. I have regrets. And one of them is that . . . I never got to raise you. And I don’t know who you would’ve been if I’d been around to help you grow. I know you still would’ve been a good man. But I think . . . I think if I’d been around, you would’ve been at peace . . . long before now.”

Jesus, at peace. “I mean, I . . .” Dean cleared his throat. “I’ve seen guys in the past. I knew on some level. It’s just. It’s never been serious.” He never took it seriously.

“I know,” Mary said.

“What do you mean, you know?” Dean asked, feeling grouchy. Mary grinned.

“A mother knows,” she said teasingly. “I just . . . know how hard your childhood was, what it’s like to grow up a hunter’s kid.” Dean nodded. “But . . . you’ve just been so happy lately. So free. And I think that’s Cas’s influence.”

Dean was choked. “Maybe a little,” he agreed, embarrassed. Maybe a lot. Mary smiled.

“When I met your father,” she said frankly. “I really saw a way out of my life as a hunter. That was half the reason I was so desperate to pursue him. And I love him, of course, and he loved me. And we tore each other apart over it. And now I . . . now I don’t even know if I’m going to stay with him. Life’s a crazy thing.” Dean nodded.

“It’s just good to have someone that . . . makes you less crazy,” she murmured. “Or at least someone you can be crazy with.” She carried on chopping her vegetables, smiling thoughtfully to herself. “I’m happy for you Dean, and so proud. I love you.” Dean’s eyes were stinging and she noticed. “Oh, Dean,” she said.

“It’s the onions,” Dean blurted defensively, wiping at his eyes with his free hand.

“Honey, put down your knife,” she ordered politely, and pushing away her own cutting board, she pulled him down into a hug.

“I love you, too, Mom,” he mumbled into her neck, clutching her back.

It was an odd fit, Cas and Sam and Jack and Mom and Dad and all the trauma they were carrying on their backs. But when they tried, they came together easy. And the end of the world could come, Dean was ready for it. That night they ate dinner, talked shop, made plans, and Cas kept his hand in Dean’s all the way through to the end.

#destiel #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #misha speaks #-_- sometimes u have to write 7k abt a plotpoint u kno spn isnt gonna do justice #food m #tbd

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 8x06: “Southern Comfort”

THEN: Garth Fitzgerald IV. Sam retired because he met Amelia and they had a normal life. Dean was in Purgatory. Benny’s his new friend, whom Sam immediately distrusts.

Kearney, Missouri.

RIP first victim. Decapitated.

Oh shit, here we go.

“You want to talk about Benny? Fine. Let's talk.”

“Okay. How about he's a vampire?”

Don’t talk to Dean like he’s 5.

“Don't pretend I don't get it. I know you had to do what you had to down there.” No, Sam doesn’t get it. He didn’t just “do what he had to do”. Dean genuinely befriended Benny after going through Purgatory together.

“And what about my friend, Amy? She was what? 'Cause you sure as hell didn't have a problem ganking her.” 

Amy had been killing people.

Benny hasn’t killed a single person since coming out of Purgatory.

You spent ONE DAY with Amy. Dean spent a year with Benny.

“He tell you he's not drinking live blood, or something? And you believe him. Wow. Okay.” HE KNOWS, HE’S SEEN BENNY DRINK FROM HIS BAGS.

“Yeah. I got a vampire buddy, and you turn your phone off for a year.”

“Don't turn this on me.”

You’re using Dean’s past year against him, he’s gonna turn around and do the same to you, regardless if it’s fair or not.

“Look, Benny slips up and some other hunter turns his lights out, so be it.”

“But it's not gonna be you, right?”

It is, actually, and it’s gonna be heartbreaking, so screw you very much.

At the crime house.

“Sam, Kevin's in the wind, okay, you're sulking around like a eunuch in a whorehouse, and I can't help but ask myself, when is decapitation not my thing?“ pfft.

Garth!!!

I really don’t get the annoyance they have with Garth??? That’s always been an issue of mine concerning the Winchesters.

Look how happy Garth is to see them again! What an angel!!

“Uh, you guys have no idea how much I missed you.”

“A Texas Ranger, Garth? Seriously? We're in Missouri.” Says the man who’ll say he’s a Texas Ranger in Kansas in S13.

Garth’s multiple phones.

Ringtone #1: “Jump” by Kriss Kross.

“Since when is giving advice your job?”

“Hold up. Are you the new Bobby?”

“You shut your mouth.”

“Yes.”

“You shut your mouth!”

I could honestly punch Sam and Dean for how mean they are to Garth. Garth’s been helping out as best as he could since three of the best hunters in the community either died or went M.I.A.

Scott Lew.

Eww. Green goo.

OHHH WHY DID GARTH HAVE TO TASTE IT????

Ringtone #2: “Wild Wild West” by Kool Moe Dee.

“One of those things rings Hammer, I'm throwing down.” Get ready to throw down then.

“Alcott” was carved into Chester’s chest.

“Do you remember anything at all about what happened? Um... Chester dying?”

“Not really. Bits and pieces, I guess.”

I get the joke too, Garth.

A visible negative reaction to the name “Alcott”.

“Sara had one night with him, whereas I was with Chester for 37 years.” And yet you couldn’t let go of her going to prom with him?

Lunch time.

“I was in Purgatory.”

“Like the Purgatory Purgatory?”

“No, the one in Miami.”

ohoho.

“Man, that’s balls.”

“That's not how you say ‘balls.’"

Why don’t you cool your damn jets, Dean?

“So, how’d you get out?”

I CAN’T STAND that passive aggressive move Sam does there.

Garth went to college and then dental school.

“Where'd you think I got my first case?”

“Let me guess - Tooth Fairy.”

“...Yeah. Man, I felt terrible when I ganked that SOB.”

I love that last line and the genuine sadness when Garth says it. Bless his heart.

Scott’s asthmatic, and he’s got ectoplasm coming out his ear.

HOT COFFEE TO THE FACE, GOOD LORD.

RIP Jeff. Killed by Scott.

“Sussex”

One of Bobby’s hats!

STOP BEING A FREAKING GATEKEEPER DEAN

“That's not how you wear it.” WHAT OTHER WAY IS THERE TO WEAR A HAT

AGAIN I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY THEY TREAT GARTH LIKE AN ANNOYANCE TO DUMP ON EACH OTHER.

Sara Alcott, now Sara Brown.

Domestic Sam flashback. 

Sam and Amelia had sex. 

“You asked me if I lost someone. I did. My husband. He died in Afghanistan eight months ago.”

“We were together forever. Or at least it seemed that way. Then one day, Don just enlists. Didn't ask me, just said something about wanting to do the right thing. Next thing I know, he's off overseas and I'm all alone. I got a couple letters, some phone calls, and then a knock at the door. Just like that. And everywhere I looked, all I could see was judgment and pity and just this constant reminder of Don everywhere. So I moved here... and became even more of a hot mess than I already was. And you hit a dog.”

This is one of Amelia’s better moments. When she lets go, when she lets her walls down, she’s honest and sweet.

“Easy there, flyweight. Last time you drank a beer, I had to pick you up off the floor.” Fair enough.

“You’re such an idjit.”

“Idjit's supposed to be used angrily. Okay? Not happy. If you're gonna butcher it, don't say it at all.”

KNOCK IT OFF, DEAN.

“Bobby belonged to all of us, Dean – not just you and Sam. Now, I'm just taking what he showed me and trying do something with it. That's all!”

It’s nice to see Garth stand up for himself. It certainly shut Dean up.

Grudges are the connection.

Bobby’s journal holds the answer: spectre.

The Confederate Unknown Soldier.

“See, the idea was, they took a faceless, nameless soldier they couldn't identify, and they buried him here to commemorate all the soldiers who died.”

“Did you learn that in college?”

“Nope – Civil War re-enactments. Once a year, every year. Don't hate.”

I hope Garth’s still doing what he loves.

Love that sass.

Sam finds the string. That’s an important clue.

“Why open it up if you're not gonna take anything?” Oh, but they did.

“Sure. We won.”

LMAAOOOO I LOVE THAT

Scott’s having an asthma attack. Deputy goes to get the inhaler...gets possessed by the spectre.

RIP Sheriff. Killed by Deputy Doug

Did Scott even get his inhaler?

Our next lead: Karl.

Dean’s on Karl, Sam and Garth have research.

“Hey, uh, Sam. If you ever need to talk, I just want to let you know that I'm here. About anything – you know, life, uh, Dean, you.” Garth’s a sweetheart.

Flashback.

“Hey. Uh, just lock up when you leave. I'm late.”

“Wait, what?”

Amelia’s probably got work, don’t worry about it, Sam.

“I know I said a lot of things last night, and I know I can't ask you to forget them. But just... Do.” And then she’s back on her bullshit.

“Because I don't need your pity. I don't need you looking at me the way they all – like that.” Is it me or is she confusing pity with sympathy?

“Hey, ump. You remember me? I stole second!”

“Karl? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing –”

“Why am I gonna make mustard from your brain stem?! I don't know. Why did you call me out, ump?”

OF ALL THE THINGS TO HOLD A DAMN GRUDGE ABOUT

A theory on who the Confederate Unknown Soldier is.

“Corporal Collins of the Union shot and killed his brother, Vance, who fought for the Confederacy. Local boys.”

“Legend has it that Vance swore vengeance on his brother with his dying breath. Years later – consumed by guilt, no doubt – the corporal dug his brother up where he'd buried him on the battlefield and brought him home.” 

UH, DID HE HAVE TO SMELL HIM LIKE THAT?

There’s the spectre’s object: a penny.

W E L P

Three Days Ago. 

“Fell on Black Days” by Soundgarden. I always wondered what the song was, I always enjoyed it.

I love the montage of how the coin got passed around.

“Well, let's go through some of Sammy's greatest hits.” Let’s not.

“Yeah, I might have lied, but I never once betrayed you.” Uh, Amy. 

“I never once left you to die.”  Ok, can’t argue with that.

Garth putting his life on the line. 

“Come on, Dean. You do not want to kill your brother. You – you've been protecting him your whole life. Don't stop now.”

“He left me to rot in Purgatory!”

“All right. All right. Maybe he did. I don't know. I wasn't there. But I'm sure he had his reasons.”

“Just like you had your reasons for Benny.”

“Who?”

LMAO

“Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you've ever been! That's right. Cas let me down. You let me down. The only person that hasn't let me down is Benny.” Oof, that’s gonna stick with Sam.

“Goodbye, Sam.” :(

NICELY DONE, GARTH!

“How come that penny didn't jack you like everyone else? I mean, I can understand why it didn't affect the kid who took it. He's young and innocent. But, uh, everyone at some point in their life feels like they've been screwed.”

“Not me, man. I let all that stuff go with the help of my yogi, my Sega Genesis. And you should, too. You can't change the past, amigo.”

Garth’s a damn saint.

“Now, there's something I want to say to you. Stop being a idjit! With Bobby dead, you and Sam are all each other has. And that's not so bad, man. Now, you know what's coming next, right?”

Garth hug! Garth hug! Garth hug!

Ringtone #3: “U Can’t Touch This” by M.C Hammer.

“Yo, Lamar. What do we got? Wendigo? You got a flare gun? No? What about a flame thrower?  Then you'd better get some sneakers, buddy, 'cause you're gonna have to run.”

I love Garth.

Why couldn’t we have ended the episode there?

“I don't pity you. Okay? I don't. You and I – we're a lot of things, but we're not to be pitied.” True.

God, how much was she drinking?

The start of their relationship.

“You and I both know you didn't need that penny to say those things.” True. Dean will reiterate that Benny’s the best friend he ever had in a later episode, completely on his own will.

“Own up to your crap, Dean. I told you from the jump where I was coming from, why I didn't look for you. But you? You had secrets. You had Benny. And you got on your high and mighty, and you've been kicking me ever since you got back. But that's over. So move on, or I will.”

Again, I won’t argue with Sam. Dean should’ve told Sam about Benny from the jump (maybe then Sam wouldn’t hate Benny so much). Dean does deflect from talking about his own past year but bringing up Sam’s. It’s been happening for months and Sam’s sick of it. I get it.

“You know what? Hear this, too. I just might be that hunter that runs into Benny one day and ices him.”

And there^ is where I draw the line. The first half was understandable but that^? I think that’s Sam’s rather pathetic attempt to say something that’s gonna hurt Dean’s feelings the way his own feelings were hurt. Like, Sam...don’t embarrass yourself.

#supernatural #spn summer rewatch #spn liveblog #spn 8x06 #southern comfort

[huntertales]

Part Four: I Don’t Want to Be Me Anymore. (The Man Who Would Be King S06E20)

Episode Summary: When Bobby begins to suspect Castiel hiding something, Sam finds himself growing skeptical of the angel’s true motives as well. Dean denies tries to deny the accusations for long as he can. The reader is stuck in the middle of who to side with. She’s left wondering if Castiel is truly her friend—or the enemy. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,566.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

It was the dead of night and the entire house was eerily quiet. Bobby retired to his bed while Sam sleep silently on the floor and Dean peacefully rested on the couch. You were wide awake, your mind restless with thoughts of what you should and shouldn't do. All you knew at this very moment you wanted to be away from everyone that even reminded you of the supernatural world. Screw everything for a few weeks. You knew it could be so easy for you to grab every article of clothing and run away from here. If Cas wanted to open up the world to purgatory to fight his brother, so be it. You were just...tired of it all. Not in the sense that you wanted everything to stop. But you just wanted to be someone else for a change.

You sat at Bobby's desk and stared at the two boys with a glass of whiskey in your hand. Most of the time it was Dean who sat up with his restless head, wondering what life would be if things were different. What he could do to get that apple pie life. Sure, he had it hard...being uprooted at such a young age. Forced to be a brother and a parental figure to his little sibling while his father brainwashed him into being the perfect hunter. He swallowed down all his emotions for that normalcy because that's what he was taught. But all of it came back up when the apocalypse was nipping at your heels. He found himself urging for a life filled with a white picket fence and nights around the dinner table with a family that even wasn’t his.

Your entire life you've been cushioned and pampered with a lifestyle that was safe. You hadn't understood the struggles he and his brother went through until you got out on the open road and became a hunter. The idea had been lingering in your head since you learned about the supernatural. From fourteen and until sixteen, up until the moment you saw the yellow eyes of Azazel, you thought about college. You studied your ass off, you took all sorts of AP and college level courses so your transcript was well above your fellow classmates. You kept your nose clean and you pretended to be the good child your mother wanted to be. Because, like Dean, you didn’t know any better. Until you got the taste of what you always secretly wanted.

Now you found yourself consumed with your own personal thoughts and regrets of what you did over this past year. Why didn’t you go straight to Dean when you got out? Why had you been so adamant on letting him stay with Lisa? It should have been who you was in her spot. She really didn’t know him like you did. But you kept your mouth shut and found yourself lulled into the sight of Sam without a soul, which still to this day, you regretted doing what you did. You could call it jealousy, but you knew that would be putting a bandaid on the situation. It was much more than just that.

You knew why you let Lisa have her year with the man you loved and found yourself hiding your true feelings into his brother. Because you put yourself before others. You weren't the type to be selfish and step on one's toes to make them feel upset. And when you did try do something you wanted...it backfired in your face. That stupid deal you made with Crowley while you were out of your mind. You kept your mouth shut about your fears because you had bigger problems. Sam’s soul that needed to be fixed. Dean’s constant worried mind, taking down Eve. What were you going to do about what Cas did? Ask him for help in getting you back to normal? Quietly wait until he was done doing what he needed before asking him to fix you? When were you ever going to get the chance to just...not be needed?

Your entire existence was for the purpose to serve others. For your mother it was to have a child and give you everything she never had. The apocalypse you were just the pretty face, Lucifer's little mutt who was a stand in for the woman who was part of the reason why Lucifer and Michael had their falling out. You were the supposed reincarnation of a woman named Katerina. The universe wrote out your story so you could live through her tragic life. Stupidly trying to fix something that was broken from day one. Only to be turned into something she really didn’t want to be in order to make Lucifer feel a little less lonely. Katerina’s effort to stop the bad blood between both brothers ended up her dying at the hands of the man she truly loved, Michael.

Not to mention you’d been kidnapped so many times by angels demons so they dangled your feet in the fire and make the boys squirm into doing what they wanted. And it worked a few times. But what happens when the enemy who using you happens to be your friend? How do you solve a problem you thought was already fixed? And most importantly, where do you go when all of this is solved?

You leaned back in your seat and outstretched your arm with the glass you were holding. You began to swirl your drink around, watching as the alcohol inside nearly tipped over the edge, but remained in its confinements. "Hello, Y/N."

You flinched ever so slightly at the sound of Castiel’s gravelly voice. You slowly looked up from the spot on the desk you had been staring at and to the angel standing across from you. In all honesty, you weren't surprised to see him. “How did you get in here?” You tried to sound a little bit concerned, but you were too tired to care. You looked away from the angel and to the windows painted with sigils you learned from the very thing himself in attempt to keep him away.

“The angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house,” Cas said. “He got a few things wrong.”

"Well, it's too bad we have to angel-proof in the first place, isn't it?" You muttered underneath your breath. You brought the drink to your lips and swallowed the whiskey down in one take. You pushed yourself up from your seat and headed for the kitchen so the both of you could talk in privacy. You grabbed the bottle from the counter and contemplated to pour yourself yet another drink. You let out a sigh and put it back down, deciding instead to face the angel who followed you into the kitchen. "Why the hell are you here?"

Castiel took a few steps forward to you, but the cold glare that you gave while you leaned yourself against the counter told him to back off. He left a few feet between the both of you while he tried to answer your question in a hushed voice so he wouldn't wake the boys. "I want you to understand."

“What you told yourself to justify everything you did to me and Sam? If so, let me take a wild guess." You said. You crossed your arms over your chest as you quietly impersonated his deep voice . "Blah, blah, Raphael, blah. Right?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you did make a deal with Crowley to be brought back as a demon." Cas said. You shook your head and forced yourself to calm your anger by letting out a chuckle. You should’ve seen him throw that mistake right in your face. So that’s probably why he even agreed to the plan Crowley probably came forward to him with. You secretly wanted to be a demon again, you wouldn’t really care if you found out....only you did.

"Do you let a drunk drive home with a bottle in his hand because he wants to? No, you don't. Because you would be putting a lot of people in danger. I wasn't in my right state of mind when I made that deal. I didn't know what I wanted back then." You said. You fell silent for a moment as you stared at the angel, waiting to see a change in his expression to show that he felt remorse. Anything to signify that he wanted to change things if he could. "My, God. You don't feel the least bit guilty over this, do you? I mean, why would you? You didn't do anything wrong. You only destroyed the very thing we spent months trying to fix."

“I’m doing this for you. For the boys.” Cas used an excuse that sounded too comical to be true. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing as you raised your brow. “I'm doing this because of you.”

“Because of me. Yeah. Where did you learn that from me? When I did ever use my friends for my own advantage? 'Cause from where I'm standing, you sound a lot like your brothers. You know, the ones we sent to the cage because they wanted us to do their dirty work." You pointed out to the angel. You tried your hardest to keep the urge from punching in straight in the face. Because you knew it would hurt you more than him. “If this is you trying to get power, I'm afraid for what's gonna happen when you do get it."

“You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will—“

“Yes, you’re totally right. Because pulling someone from hell and using them for your own advantage is free will. That’s what we fought for all those months!” You cut off the angel, having had enough of his excuses that were empty as his emotions inside that vessel of his. “Sure, I get it. You're a big time angel now. You can do whatever you need to get what you want. But just because you can doesn't mean you should!"

“I know what I'm doing, Y/N.” Castiel stated in a quiet, serious voice.

"Do you? Do you really?" You asked the angel. You found yourself dropping the cold exterior to show the angel that his actions would have consequences. Sooner than later all of his choices would bite him in the ass. "I'm not gonna logic you. You're a big boy. I'm just saying don't. Quit while there's still a chance to get out from Crowley's thumb."

“I don’t understand why you are against this plan.” Cas said. You rubbed your hands with your face at how ignorant he was choosing to look at the situation. He was so caught up in the big picture he forgot about about the million times demons had screwed you over.

“Look, next to those boys and Bobby, you are the closest thing I have to family. You are like an obnoxious brother to me. And if you haven't realized it, you're supposed to be my friend. Sure, we're not perfect. We fight and we butt heads over everything, but I could always count on you being there for me." You admitted to him, your voice dropping slightly as you told him how you really felt about your odd friendship. “I want to help you, Cas. I really do. So if I’m asking you not to do something...You gotta trust me.”

Cas fell silent from what you told him as a side of caution. You watched in the darkness of the night as his eyes fell to the ground. They wandered subtly around the floor until they drew back up to his face. You swallowed when he replied to your warning. "Or what?"

Yo weren't sure how you wanted to react to his response to what you openly admitted. You had opened yourself up and tried to extend an olive branch after everything that he did to you. And he chose to stomp on it. You straightened out your shoulders and stood a little bit taller. "Well, I'll do what I have to do to stop you."

"You can't, Y/N. You're just a human." Cas said, as if that little reminder was supposed to make you feel inferior to him. "I'm an angel."

You didn't respond to what he pointed out about what made the both of you different. All though he may have been correct about that matter, you didn't feel intimidated. And you didn't even feel sad. You felt...pity. "You know what really makes us different? I had a parent who at least taught me right from wrong before abandoning me. John instilled morals into those boys. What did God teach you to send you down this path?” You instilled a question that you knew he couldn't answer. "You may be right about me being a measly human, but I'm pretty confident in myself. I've taken on some pretty big sons of bitches."

Cas found himself looking away from you. Maybe it was the guilt you forced him to feel after he started to process what kind of damage he had done to the people that cared for him after his own family casted him out. "I feel sorry for you. I really do. So alone, so unsure of yourself." You mumbled, shaking your head. “Goodbye, Cas. Hopefully the next time we see each other things will be different.”

You blinked, and like how you expected, Cas disappeared from your sight. But it didn’t stop the ache that sat in the pit of your stomach from how things turned out the way it did. You let out a quiet sigh and ran a hand through your hair, you wracked your brain for anything you could do to get yourself out of here. You leaned your backside further against the counter top, making you feel the outline of your cell phone. You didn't hesitate a second in reach for the device and sent a text message to possibly the only person you could trust anymore.

+ + +

You had been the tiniest bit tipsy when you stepped into the bar a little after midnight, the same place you spent enjoying a few beers and shots with Josh to celebrate the victory of defeating Eve. Now you sat in the same booth in the back of the bar with puffy eyes, admitting every little detail to Josh while you nursed your beer. You had texted Josh just seconds after you saw Cas disappear and told him you were in need of a drink. When he pulled up just outside of Bobby’s place and away from the boys, that’s when you finally let it all out, the stress and hurt that had been bottling up over the past day since you got back from learning the truth from Cas. You didn’t remember the last time you cried this hard. But it felt good to let your emotions out and to be in the presence of someone that reminded you of a life before.

“Have you ever been homesick for a place that doesn’t exist anymore?” You asked. Josh titled his head slightly to the side and gave you a curious look, wondering what you meant by that. "I love hunting. I really do. I love the boys with all of my being and even Cas—even though he's a complete bastard. He's still my family. I wouldn't change anything. I’d do anything for them. And I want to keep doing what I do until the day that I die. But, sometimes..."

"You wish you could be someone else for a little while?" Josh finished your thought. You nodded your head slowly, admitting the longing that had been building up in your head since all of this had unraveled in ways that was still making your head spin. "Yeah, me too. There are days when I wish that I could just close my eyes and be someone new."

"Me too. What I wouldn't do just to start over. Just for a little while. No knowledge of angels or demons." You found yourself admitting your desires to him out in the open, like they were really going to happen. It was wishful thinking. "I want parents, I want to know what it feels like to be married. Hell, I want a mortgage." You knew it was the alcohol that was making you smile as you reached for the drink to take another sip. It was the reality of your bitter situation that a little more complicated than going to sleep and waking up someone knew "I just...I want to be human. And I thought I was for the longest time. Turns out, I was wrong. With everything else.”

"Well, screw those who wronged you." Josh reached for his beer and raised it up into the air. You followed in his actions as he made a toast. "Here's to a new beginning. May Y/N's future be filled with people that only want to help her. Not hurt her."

Maybe it was the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you hadn't felt in ages or the second round of shots Josh talked you into having that blinded you by the people Josh had subtly dissed. The Winchester brothers, who had been sleeping while you were drinking away your problems with a friend they didn’t particularly like either. You left a simple note of "I needed some air—Y/N" to let them know why you disappeared. The truth that you needed some space from them felt a little too harsh. And you had enough of the truth. Sometimes it would be nice for someone to lie to you. Or tell you the truth that would benefit you.

"Oh Josh," You let out a sigh as you shook your head. "What would I do without you?"

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Josh said. You gave him a soft smile that made a tightening feeling in his chest become more prominent. He noticed it first develop when he got the text from you. Josh’s eyes wandered away from you for a split second to the face hiding in the crowded bar, the one who had lead him to this path. He nervously brought up his drink to calm his nerves before you could suspect anything.

The both of you spent the next few hours until the bar scene thinned out and last call was made. You were more than tidy, but you were still in control of how you felt. It took a lot to get you drunk. You reached a hand inside your pocket and pulled out a few bills and left them on the table for the sweet waitress that took care of you. She smiled as you passed by her and wished the both of you a good night. As you exited the bar, you didn’t realize her smile had dropped along with her facade, her eyes flickering black to represent what had been watching you tonight like how she was instructed to.

You stepped out into the almost empty parking lot and inhaled a deep breath, taking in the scent of the night air that felt so refreshing. Josh’s motel wasn’t too far of a walking distant from the bar. All of you agreed to play it safe and pick up the car tomorrow morning when you were nursing a hangover you were going to regret. The both of you made it across the parking lot and underneath a headlight when you noticed something was off. No matter how drunk you were, you could still feel when trouble was brewing in the distance. You found yourself stopping dead in your tracks and looking up to the street lamp just above you. You watched as the light began flickering.  

“Ah, damn it.” You muttered underneath your breath. You knew that was never a good sign. And it didn’t help the fact that you were out in the dead of night after a few hours of drinking with no weapon to protect yourself with. It’s like you wanted to die. Josh remained behind you as he seemed to notice that something was off about this. You swallowed as you looked over your shoulder ever so slightly to see who was standing behind you. It came as no surprise when you saw that familiar arrogant smirk and black suit. There stood the king of hell in all of his glory. Your lips stretched into a forced smile at the sight of him. "Crowley...as I live and breathe.”

“A little dangerous out here to be roaming around here all your lonesome, don’t you think? There’s psychos out here.” Crowley’s first words to greet you after spending months of faking his own death were sarcasm. You poked your tongue against your cheek as you rolled your eyes, showing him you were the least bit amused at his dry sense of humor that hadn't changed since you first met him. “My, looks I left your manners down in the cage. Is that any way to greet me, Kitten? After all I did for you, too.”

"Don't call me that." You hissed at his stupid pet name he found so amusing when his smile grew even wider. Your attitude slowly sizzled away for a second when you noticed that Crowley didn't come here alone. A few of his goons you had recognized from the bar stepped out from the shadows, circling you and Josh, giving you no chance of making a run for it. Not like you had a chance of getting out of here if you wanted. You had a feeling Crowley had been tailing you since you got back to South Dakota. "Is there a reason why you're here?”

"Yes, actually. I’m sure our good friend Castiel filled you in on the bonding time him and I have been spending together while going after purgatory. Along with other things that I’m sure ruffled up your feathers a bit." Crowley informed you of details that you already knew. You narrowed your eyes on him as you watched him approach you slowly. His hands were in his pockets as he remained casual, but who knew what sort of trick he had hidden up his sleeve. "Don't worry. I'm strictly here on business. I promise the angel I wouldn't touch a hair on your head."

"I highly doubt that." You said. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at the demon with suspicion at his true motives. It didn't take much brain power to realize you were harboring an important key in his search for purgatory. "Let me guess. You want something back from me."

"Yes...And no. My business isn't with you, love. It's with him." Crowley's hand slipped out from his pocket and pointed a finger in your direction. But he wasn't gesturing to you, but to the man standing behind you. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked over your shoulder to see Josh’s nervous expression had worsened. He was now staring at you with guilt. "You see, what you call family...I call my best selling point for any old fool to jump feet first into making a deal.”

Your felt your face fall into shock at the word that slipped out of the demon’s mouth. You looked over at the your friend, the idiot who you thought sold his soul to the king of hell. “You didn’t…”

"He did. Per se. He scratched my back, I scratched his. You see, poor Josh's grandparents are about to kick the bucket and he wanted to find a way to fix you after Cas' brilliant plan of pulling you out of the cage wasn't working out well as he hoped, leaving me to clean up the mess." The demon said. You clenched your jaw at how this night was coming. You looked away from the man you called your friend and to the one that made you regret not taking the demon knife as a precaution. “You see, your friends...they want what’s best for you. And unlike those boys, Josh here has spent months scouring the states for a way to make you human. And by golly, he found it.”

“If you think you’re laying a hand on me,” You warned him. “I’ll kill you.”

“I know, I know. The punches keep coming. First it’s Cas. Then your own friend. Who can you trust these days?” Crowley didn't even flinch at your threat, because it was nothing more than hurtful words to bruise his ego. He merely deflected to what was making you angry and full of rage. "Like you said, there's something from you that I want. And I'm gonna take it back. Thanks for holding on to it." You were ready to lunge at him and tear his throat out with your teeth, but before you could even move, you felt someone pin your arms to your side restraining you back. Crowley smiled, in a way that made a bad feeling settle into the pit of your stomach. "Nighty night, Kitten. See you in a bit."

Crowley turned his back on you and began walking away, leaving you with a string of possibilities of what was going to happen. You felt yourself suddenly completely sober now at the events that unfolded. Before you could see the demon vanish from your sight, you felt something slip over your head, engulfing your vision. It was the blow to the side of your head that made everything go black, leaving you anxious for what else was to come.

+ + +

“What did I tell you—“ “We’ve got to act fast. First one was on the house. And if you liked the taste of that, wait until we crack the whole bloody thing open.”

Voices were the first thing you noticed when you slowly began to come back around to consciousness. The next thing was the sticky feeling on the side of your forehead where your hair stuck to your skin. You guessed it was blood from how badly your head was throbbing. You inhaled inhaled a deep breath as you slowly sat up straight in what felt like a chair. A very uncomfortable one. The hot breath that you exhaled hit you right back in your face, making you realize there was something still over your head, which explained why you could see fragments of bodies and bits of light.

Much as you'd love to rip off the sack off your head and show the angel and demon how you really felt about them, you couldn't. You sat with your hands behind your back and a disgusting tasting fabric between your teeth. You listened to the sounds of your own confined breathing and whispered conversation before you were blinded with by light. It took you a few seconds before your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. You noticed that you weren't in the bar parking lot, or anywhere that you noticed before. It looked like an empty warehouse from the looks of it.

"You sure this is gonna work?"

You heard Josh's voice echo through the building, but he wasn't standing with the two other men. You moved your head to look painfully over your shoulder, best that you could, to see him. He was standing to your very right with what appeared to be someone else...an unconscious body hunched over in a chair. You noticed that she had eerily familiar color hair as you. The same bit of nose and lips from what you could inspect from the vail hiding her hair. You could feel your breathing turning heavier in nervousness at what you wondered. Was that...Was that you?

"Shapeshifter, actually. It's a carbon copy of Y/N Y/L/N. Has every scar and every little detail on your body." Crowley answered your question as if he knew what you were thinking. You looked back over at the demon as you furrowed your brow. He acknowledged your presence before moving his gaze over to your friend. "For the last bloody time. Yes."

Cas' approaching footsteps towards you made you turn your gaze back over at him and watched as he began rolling up his sleeve to his elbow. Sort of like the few times when he reached his hand inside to touch the human soul. Yo had only witnessed it, but you had a feeling it was about to happen to you. Because there was something inside of you that you had been carrying around all these months. And they wanted it back. That's what the body was for…

“If there’s some place that you find soothing, you should go there, in your mind." Cas instructed you the same way when he shoved his hand inside Sam's chest to see if he had a soul. You leaned back in your seat as you shook your head no as you told him to get away from you, but all of it came off as muffled words nobody could understand except for yourself. "You wanted to be human, this is what you have to do. Stay still.”

The angel's warning would be the only thing you heard before he slipped into say something in a foreign tongue you had never heard before. But you couldn't hear much of anything from the sounds of your muffled screams of agonizing pain that you hadn't felt before in your entire life. You've wanted to be normal for your entire life. You lost count on the sleepless nights and tears shed over the idea that you were something of an abomination like this. If you knew this was the way to getting what you wanted...you would change your mind. But you didn't have a choice in the matter anymore.

+ + +

A happy place could be an actual location. A paradise of white sand beaches and water blue as they sky. Busy streets of sights overseas, buildings that might be ancient, but rich with history. A memory of a place of what once was. Sometimes it could be a person. Cas guessed after you slipped out of consciousness again that you were dreaming of the Winchester brothers, your family that you proclaimed just a few hours ago. People that would do anything for you. The angel had done the best of what he could considering the circumstances that pulled you apart. He hoped you would still consider him a friend after all of this was said and done. He fixed his sleeve and let out a sigh.

"It's done." The angel announced.

Josh nervously stood in the distance with his arms crossed tightly over his face. His face was eerily pale as his eyes were slanted wide open. This was a sight that he had never seen done before. All of his hard work over the past several months had paid off. But why did he feel so guilty? What had he done? All of this reminded him of Frankenstein. A book of many meanings. One he remembered was the consequences of playing God. The man kept reminding himself that he was getting you one step closer to freedom. You were human again. He felt himself inhaling a breath, but before he could release it to signify his relief, he should have known. Actions have consequences...If you make a deal with the devil, you're going to get burned.

The young man was suddenly blinded by a light that came out of nowhere, taking him by complete and total surprise, quickly shielding his eyes before he could go blind. Josh stood there for a moment, arms crossed over his head as his breathing turned into heavy pants of fear. He wasn't sure what was going on.

“Relax. You can open your eyes now.” Crowley reassured the man that everything was fine. Josh nervously peeked out slightly and opened one of his eyes to see if the demon was right. When he noticed that everything was fine, he dropped his arms back to his side. Josh looked around the building to see that everything remained almost like normal. Except someone was missing. The angel. "Don't worry, mate. Castiel went on....a little trip. Where to? I don't bloody know. His end of the bargain is up."

"What?" Josh asked. He was about to look around the room to see if you were all right, but he suddenly felt a grip around his arms, and with a quick yank, he was being forced back. "What the hell are you doing?! We had a deal!"

"And it was pleasure doing business with you mate. But the big kids have to get to work. My help will explain the details to your next bit. I...have a guest I need to welcome." Crowley waved off the two other demons that dragged out the poor sucker that had got wrapped up in all of this mess. He passed by your unconscious body and to the one that was calling his attention the most. Crowley watched as the body that had been the most tedious part of all of this began to move slowly until she sat straight up. His lips stretched into a smirk when he saw her eyes switch to that beautiful, malevolent color rotten as the soul inside her body. "Hello, darling."

[Next Part]

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[nsula]

Hall of Master Folk Artists adds seven members

NATCHITOCHES – Seven musicians and folk artists were inducted into the Louisiana Folklife Center’s Hall of Master Folk Artists held at Northwestern State University on Saturday July 21 as part of the 39th Annual Natchitoches-NSU Folk Festival.  Inductees included Rock & Roll Hall of Famer and former Elvis Presley guitarist, James Burton, who also served as Honorary Festival Chair, Burton’s fellow band mate in Elvis Presley’s band, Estelle Brown of the Sweet Inspirations, Elvis Presley’s original drummer, D.J. Fontana, Natchitoches musician/promoter/philanthropist Rodney Harrington, folk artist Clementine Hunter, musician and craftsman Hilton Lytle, and rockabilly musician Jim Oertling.  

Dr. Tommy Ike Hailey, associate professor of anthropology and director of the Cultural Resource Office at NSU, accepted on behalf of Oertling who was unable to attend.  Phyllis Liberto accepted on behalf of her uncle, D.J. Fontana, who was inducted posthumously, and Stephanie Sewell, accepted on behalf of her great grandmother, Clementine Hunter, also inducted posthumously.  Hunter’s granddaughter, Deloris Sewell, and Hunter’s great granddaughter, Diane Brown, were also in attendance.

Dr. Shane Rasmussen, director of the Louisiana Folklife Center at NSU, took part in the induction ceremony.  Dignitaries included Natchitoches City Council members Sylvia Morrow and Dale Nielsen, Kelvin Porter from the office of State Rep. Kenny Cox, and Jerrie Ledoux from the office of U.S. Rep. Mike Johnson.   Honorary Festival Chair James Burton was born in Dubberly, but he grew up in Shreveport.  At 14, James went professional and at 15 cut the famous record “Suzie Q.” This soon led to a regular gig on the Louisiana Hayride radio show, which, in turn, led to Burton's joining the band of Bob Luman, a rockabilly and country singer. From there, Burton went on to play with Ricky Nelson, which solidified Burton's place in the Hollywood rock 'n' roll universe, and he started getting calls for recording sessions. Burton also found time to record with artists like Dean Martin, Bobby Darin and The Everly Brothers, and become a key figure in the group of session musicians referred to as ‘The Wrecking Crew.’

In 1969, Burton got a call from Elvis Presley to form him a band.  Burton acted as band leader and would remain with Elvis until The King’s untimely death in 1977.  After Elvis’ passing, Burton went on to tour with numerous artists, including Emmylou Harris, John Denver, Jerry Lee Lewis, Kenny Rogers, Elvis Costello and Johnny Cash.

Burton has been inducted into many honorable institutions such as The Louisiana Music Hall of Fame, The Musicians Hall of Fame, The Country Music Hall of Fame, The Rockabilly Hall of Fame, The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (inducted by Keith Richards) and is also a Grammy winner.

Burton heads the James Burton Foundation which is dedicated to providing musical instruments to children in schools, hospitals, civic programs, and to veterans.  Burton received his first guitar at a young age and he believes in giving to help a new generation of players.  He still tours the world every year playing his guitar and is honored to be an ambassador for the great state of Louisiana.

Fifty years ago Brown and some friends formed the Sweet Inspirations, an all-girl vocal group, and the girls quickly became the “go to” backing group for the top Atlantic Records artists including Aretha Franklin, Van Morrison, Dusty Springfield, Dion Warwick, and Jimi Hendrix.  Brown and the Sweets’ distinctive harmonies can be heard on some of the most iconic songs in music history, including “Chain of Fools,” “Natural Woman,” “Brown Eyed Girl,” “Son of a Preacher Man” and “Do You Know the Way to San José,” to name but a few.  The group also toured and performed their own music, including the hit song, “Sweet Inspiration.”

In 1969, Elvis Presley invited the Sweet Inspirations to be a part of his band and they toured with him until his death in 1977, performing more than 1,000 shows with the King.  Brown moved to Louisiana several years ago and has immersed herself in the area’s music and culture performing with her old Elvis Presley band mate, James Burton and Johnny Earthquake and The Moondogs.  She helps raise money for music related charities, and appears on television and in schools sharing the history of rock & roll and rhythm & blues which she was such an integral part of and telling about of her life and times performing with the King of Rock & Roll and the Queen of Soul.

Harrington has been intimately involved in Louisiana music for over 30 years.  As a performer, he has been the front man for Johnny Earthquake and The Moondogs since the band’s inception nearly 25 years ago.  The band has recorded extensively touring throughout the South, spreading the word about Natchitoches and Louisiana music wherever they play.  The Moondogs have been referred to by music critics as “Quite simply, Louisiana’s best show band.”

As a songwriter, Harrington has written and recorded several original songs about the area, its music and culture, including “Cane River Blues,” “Reflections on the Cane” and “This Is Our Town,” an ode to his hometown of Natchitoches.

As a philanthropist, Harrington has served and continues to serve on the board of several music related charities and has worked tirelessly to raise funds to further music-related causes, such as buying musical instruments for school children.

As a promoter/producer, Harrington has promoted and produced many major concerts and musical events, including the Natchitoches Jazz/R&B Festival, for which he has served on the board for 22 years and as chairman for the past several years.

As a radio host, Harrington has hosted the syndicated radio program “Jammin’ with Johnny - The Johnny Earthquake Show” for nearly 20 years.  The program is the only one in north Louisiana which features live local and area musicians on a regular basis.

Christened in March 1887 on a plantation in Marco, Hunter’s family moved to Melrose Plantation around the turn of the last century to work as sharecroppers.  Until her death on January 1, 1988, her life had been the environs of Melrose Plantation on Cane River below Natchitoches.

Hunter’s first paintings were documented in December 1939.  Self-taught with the encouragement and inspiration of Francois Mignon, her styles evolved from paintings on paper to eventually works the size of The African House Murals, which in dramatic style tells the story of life at Melrose Plantation in the 1950s.

Although she never learned to read or write, Hunter’s art has left a legacy of life on a Louisiana plantation from the perspective of an insider.  Despite her lack of formal training, Hunter was able to depict with her paint brushes work in the cotton fields and pecan orchards, Monday wash days with a big open kettle boiling the clothes, the experience of Saturday Night at the honky tonk and the spiritual power of religion.  Her paintings will forever document life on a southern plantation for future generations to know the hard work, happiness, and community of life.

A respected instrument builder, Lytle grew up in Jena, where he learned the names of all the area’s trees.  This knowledge of wood led to his crafting toys and eventually musical instruments.  After serving overseas in World War II, he attended Texas A&M, where he majored in industrial education, completed a master’s degree and pursued his doctorate.  He returned to Louisiana and worked as a vocational counselor.  His last position was with the vocational technical school for over 20 years in Monroe, where he retired.  With the help of his late wife, Nancy, he began to build musical instruments.

As a child, Lytle built his first cigar box fiddle with strings from a screen door, and in 1970 he built his first violin by consulting Foxfire books.  He learned more instrument-building techniques from Doc Savage of Monroe.  His specialty is producing violins with exceptionally beautiful tones using a special “tap-toning” technique that he developed.  He has completed more than 900 instruments, including guitars, Dobros, mandolins, banjos, violas, cellos and violins.  His skills led to participation as a featured artist at the Ozark Folk Center in Mountain View, Arkansas, where he demonstrated instrument building as a master craftsman, taught apprentices, and helped establish the Music Roots Program to which he has donated more than 400 instruments.  He frequently participated in stage shows there, performing his own “Geriatric Blues” with his harmonica and wash tub bass.

Lytle continues his craft, having built 764 violins, most of which he has given to young musicians who could not afford to purchase them.  He knows where every single one of his violins has ended up.  He’s intent on passing down what he’s learned to a new generation of luthiers and has helped many build their own fiddles.  Fiddles made Lytle were given away to two contestants of this year’s Louisiana State Fiddle Championship, also part of the Festival.  Owen Meche of Alexandria was the beneficiary of a ¾ fiddle donated by Lytle.  Cameron Fontenot of Eunice was also the recipient of a handmade Lytle fiddle, donated by Carl and Joyce Parker of Downsville. Rasmussen remarked that Lytle has helped revitalize fiddle playing throughout Louisiana. “We are indebted to his tireless efforts and kindness to so many. His fiddles are works of art.” 2018 Grand Fiddle Champion Clancey Stewart, who has known Hilton Lytle for several years, remarked that “Hil is one of the sweetest older men you will ever meet, and he has a huge heart for younger people.  He brings new experiences into people’s lives.”

Louisiana-born Jim Oertling never landed that fish he battled in his epic 1963 swamp rocker “Old Moss Back,” but that rollicking single and a clutch of other classics landed him in the Rockabilly Hall of Fame in 1997.  The Louisiana native spent his formative years in San Antonio, but immersed himself in swamp culture during long summer vacations at his grandfather’s house in Bayou Lacombe, where he conceived the idea for “Old Moss Back.”  Oertling was a student at Louisiana State University in 1963 when he entered Cosimo Matassa’s famed New Orleans recording studio to cut his twangy fish tale and biggest song.  It was during this time that he wrote and recorded the rockabilly classics “Old Mossback,” “Louisiana Gambler,” and “Back Forty Blues,” among others.  After decades spent as “a bull rider, cattle ranch foreman, combat infantry officer, commercial banker, and always an outdoorsman,” Oertling was back on the music scene in 2013 with the release of “Mossback Revisited,” a mix of rockabilly, ballads, Tex-Mex, and more.  Oertling’s performance at the 2015 Ponderosa Stomp marked his first major appearance since meandering into nonmusical pursuits.  Oertling’s fans came from all over the world to hear him at the Rock ‘N’ Bowl.  He still takes every opportunity he can to perform his songs in front of appreciative audiences.  

Fontana was born on March 15, 1931 in Shreveport, and began his incredible career as a staff drummer on the Louisiana Hayride in 1953.  It was while working on the Hayride in 1954 that Elvis Presley invited Fontana to sit in with his guitar and bass player, Scotty Moore and Bill Black.  Elvis loved Fontana's playing, invited him to go on the road with him, and the first Rock & Roll rhythm section in history, sometimes called The Blue Moon Boys, was formed.

Fontana, Elvis, and the Boys traveled all over the South playing for anyone who would pay them for a couple of years.  They would all cram into a big Buick belonging to Scotty's wife, tie Bill Black's stand-up bass to the roof, and head to the next gig.  After the group began recording hit records and Elvis exploded on to the national scene in the late 50's, the group's mode of transportation and the venues they played improved dramatically.

Fontana played behind Elvis on the Dorsey Brothers' Stage Show, the Milton Berle Show, the Steve Allen Show, the Frank Sinatra Show, Elvis' 1968 Comeback TV Special and, most famously, the Ed Sullivan Show.  Fontana was also a guest on the Conan O'Brien Show and the Elvis Tribute TV Show in 1994.  Fontana played on approximately four hundred and sixteen RCA tracks with Elvis, which resulted in millions of record sales and countless #1, gold and platinum discs.  Along the way, Fontana performed for and with such great artists as Paul McCartney, Keith Richards, Ringo Starr, Ron Wood, Jerry Lee Lewis, Dolly Parton, Gene Vincent, Carl Perkins, Porter Waggoner, Cheap Trick, Waylon Jennings and many others.

Fontana received many awards, including a Grammy nomination, the Nashville Music Award for Best Independent Album of the Year in 1998, placement on the Beale Street Walk of Fame in Memphis in 1999, and induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2009.

There are now 110 members in the Hall of Master Folk Artists, which was started in 1981.  This year’s festival theme was “Celebrating Louisiana’s Folk Roots” which celebrated the many tradition bearers in Louisiana.  The Festival is held annually in air-conditioned Prather Coliseum on the Northwestern State University campus.  Next year’s Festival will be held on July 26-27, 2019.  The 2019 theme “Vive la Louisiane!” will celebrate the many young people keeping tradition alive in Louisiana, and will include performers such as the Bruce Daigrepont Cajun Band, Tab Benoit, the Cajun Tradition Band, the Rayo Brothers, Gal Holiday and the Honky Tonk Revue, Goldman Thibodeaux and the Lawtell Playboys, Hardrick Rivers and the Rivers Revue Band, Ed Huey, a Cajun accordion workshop and the annual Louisiana State Fiddle Championship.  For more information, call the Louisiana Folklife Center at [phone], email [email protected], or online at louisianafolklife.nsula.edu.

Support for the Fiddle Championship and the Festival was provided by grants from the Cane River National Heritage Area, Inc., the Louisiana Division of the Arts Decentralized Arts Fund Program, the Louisiana Office of Tourism, the Natchitoches Historic District Development Commission, the National Endowment for the Arts, the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival and Foundation, and the Shreveport Regional Arts Council.

Additional support also came from generous sponsorships from Acme Refrigeration of Baton Rouge, Dr. James Arceneaux, Bank of Montgomery, Louie Bernard, City Bank, the City of Natchitoches, Cleco, John Conine; Corkern, Crews, Johnson & Guillet; CP-Tel, Delta Car Wash, Dan and Desirée Dyess, Georgia’s Gift Shop, La Capitol FCU, the Harrington Law Firm, Billy Joe Harrington, Jeanne’s Country Garden, Maglieaux's Riverfront Restaurant, the Natchitoches Area Convention & Visitors Bureau, Natchitoches Wood Preserving, Inc., NSU Men’s Basketball, Page Builders, LLC, Sabine State Bank, R.V. Byles Enterprises, UniFirst, Dr. Michael Vienne, David and Shirley Walker, Waste Connections and Young Estate LLC.

Photo Caption 2018 Hall of Master Folk Artist inductees, from left, James Burton; Rodney Harrington; Estelle Brown; Tommy Ike Hailey, accepting on behalf of Jim Oertling; Hilton Lytle; Phyllis Liberto, accepting on behalf of her uncle, D.J. Fontana; Stephanie Sewell, accepting on behalf of her great grandmother, Clementine Hunter.

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Supernatural Series Finale: Why Dean’s Fate Works

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This Supernatural article contains MAJOR spoilers for the series finale.

A lot of fans were hoping that Supernatural would end the way its penultimate episode ended, with Sam and Dean literally driving off into the sunset in the Impala, to new and unknown adventures. When it comes time to re-watch the series (a hefty undertaking, considering there are 15 seasons of it!) no doubt many will choose to stop there; the episode even has a series finale-style montage of moments from across its 15 years to go with that classic conclusion.

But Supernatural didn’t end with “Inherit The Earth.” In a show where death was in danger of losing all meaning, it was never really going to be over until we’d seen the Winchesters finally die, for good, we really mean it this time, no take-backsies. Sam and Dean have watched each other die, grieved each other, and brought each other back from the other side so many times that we needed to see them reach their final rest, in a much-improved new Heaven, without demon deals or miraculous resurrections or angel rescues or anything else. When Dean gets Sam to agree not to try to bring him back, there’s an almost palpable sense of relief, as sad as it is. No more deals, no more accidentally ending the world trying to save each other. Just a normal, human death (fighting vampires).

And just as we needed to see the Winchester boys die to really get closure, it had to be Dean who died young, leaving Sam to live out a long and apparently happy life before joining his big brother at last.

There were several reasons it had to be this way. One reason is to honor creator Eric Kripke’s original planned ending for the show without simply replicating it. As many fans know, the series was supposed to end with the season five finale, “Swan Song,” which ended Kripke’s original arc plot, but it was renewed and The Magician‘s Sera Gamble took over as showrunner (followed in later years by first Jeremy Carver, then Andrew Dabb and Robert Singer). In Kripke’s finale, Sam died (he went to the Cage with Lucifer riding his body, along with Adam and Michael) and Dean retired to live a family life with his girlfriend, Lisa, and her son, Ben. Repeating the same ending – Sam dying and Dean trying to move on – would have felt redundant. But reversing it, so Dean dies young and Sam has to move on and start a new life with a wife and son but without his brother? That honors Kripke’s original ending without pointlessly repeating it.

No offense to Kripke, but it has to be said: it makes a lot more sense this way around anyway. Since the very beginning of the series, Sam has been the one trying to escape the hunting life they were raised in and settle down with a family, while Dean has always been a hunter through and through – and hunters don’t usually die in their beds of old age. In the pilot episode, Sam has a girlfriend he loves and a career plan, all of which gets taken away from him when Jessica is killed and Dean comes asking for help. When Dean spent a year in Purgatory, Sam found another girlfriend, Amelia, and a dog, and tried to settle down.

But when Dean spent a year living with Lisa and Ben while Sam was gone, he didn’t adjust too well. He was always on edge, looking out for things to hunt, never quite settled. While he resents Chuck’s dismissal of him as a “killer,” Dean did always get more out of the hunting life than Sam did, taking satisfaction in it as a calling and even enjoying some aspects of life on the road. Dean was his father’s son, and a hunter born and bred; Sam took after their mother a bit more, with more of a yearning to be able to give up that life and rest.

Of course, Sam doesn’t necessarily give up hunting all together, as we see him answer a call for help made to “Dean’s other other phone.” He is also, presumably, married to another hunter. The writers have been carefully setting up Sam and Eileen’s relationship throughout this final season, giving Sam a possible future family. Whether the actress was unavailable, or whether they simply made a choice to focus on just the boys and Bobby (and, randomly, Jenny the vampire) for this finale, the blurry woman in the background while Sam is playing with his son could easily be Eileen, as she seems to be right height with the right hair color, and Eileen is as much a hunter as the Winchesters. So Sam is probably still hunting – but perhaps it forms just a part of his life now, rather than the whole of it. The way he left the bunker and turned out all the lights certainly suggests he’s not living there any more, and perhaps that he’s exploring other things as well.

While Sam was being carefully set up with a future family all season, Dean hasn’t had any really significant relationships outside of Sam, Castiel, and Jack for years. While he was a rampant womanizer in earlier seasons, this was later toned down, and his last romantic interest was Amara – and that was a rather complicated relationship. When Castiel tells Dean “I love you” and sacrifices himself two episodes before the end in “Despair,” it’s left up to viewers to decide whether he means it romantically or platonically – but it’s undeniable that, Sam being his brother and Jack his surrogate son, Castiel is by far the closest thing Dean has had to a love interest in years.

And Castiel is an angel – he belongs in Heaven. It was a bit disappointing not to see him there to greet Dean, considering how big a part of the show Misha Collins has been for eleven years, but Dabb clearly wanted to focus as much as possible on the Winchesters themselves, and avoid taking away from the welcome appearance of Original Bobby. Bobby confirms that Jack brought Castiel back from the Empty and that both of them worked on re-shaping Heaven, so he is around, along with Dean’s parents, Bobby himself – just about everyone Dean loves except Sam. Sam has ties on Earth, people to go to and to care about. Almost Dean’s whole world, except for Sam, is already in Heaven.

Some fans may have been surprised at what took Dean out in the end – a random bit of bad luck during a random mission against some anonymous vamps and a first season character who’s barely remembered (Jenny was turned into a vampire and then escaped the Winchesters in season one’s twentieth episode “Dead Man’s Blood,” in case you were wondering).

But that, too, was the way it had to be. We’ve seen the Winchesters psych themselves up for apparent suicide missions many times, and in several cases they’ve even died. But in the end, as in real life, Dean doesn’t know this is the day he’s going to die when he wakes up in the morning. He’s on a hunt and he just runs out of luck, like so many others before him. And even this was foreshadowed early on. It’s easy to forget that the Winchesters’ first real brush with death came long before Sam stupidly turned his back on a still living enemy and a knife in season two’s “All Hell Breaks Loose,” and before Dean ended up in a coma following a car crash in the same season’s “In My Time Of Dying.”

No, Dean’s first near-death experience came in the first season episode “Faith,” the episode that introduced the Reapers and which was one of the earliest episodes to set the tone and themes for much of the rest of the series – and it’s one of Kripke’s favourites. Most of the episode is dedicated to Sam’s desperate attempts to save Dean from impending death as a result of heart damage due to electrocution, but the actual near-fatal accident happens quickly during a routine hunt in the cold open. The boys are fighting a Rawhead and Dean just gets unlucky. It makes perfect sense, then, that rather than some huge showdown fighting God or Death, in the end, Dean just ran out of luck, just as he had 15 years ago.

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This, then, was how it had to be. Season 15 as a whole has seen appearances from many returning faces, of friends and foes alike, across the season. “Despair” gave Castiel a suitably emotional send-off, tying his fate to Dean’s as it has been since his very first appearance in Season 4. “Inherit The Earth” acknowledged aspects of Kripke’s finale, pitting Michael and Lucifer against each other one last time. But, ultimately, this was the fate the Winchesters have been hurtling towards since Dean dragged Sam away from the college in the very first episode. Dean was always going to die on a hunt, and Sam was always going to have a better chance at building a life for himself. And, now, in whatever far-off future year we left him, there’s still a young Dean Winchester around, and perhaps his dad left him the key to a mysterious old bunker full of strange books and a battered old notebook full of monsters…

The post Supernatural Series Finale: Why Dean’s Fate Works appeared first on Den of Geek.

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