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hobbitsnapes · 3 years

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YOU GUYS ARE DATING

Corpse x MGK!sister reader

(Found this image on Pinterest so all credit goes to artist, if you know who it is please comment below so I can credit them)

A/N: this was requested by @heyitssab

Tree is tall of sex in this, but it’s more in a joking matter, plus corpse has stated he doesn’t mind as long as you are not a minor or send or tag him. I’m literally 2 years younger than him, and have no intentions of ever tagging him or sending him any of my work XD

Summary: how many idiots does it take to tell the brother and friend they’re dating? Apparently takes 2 very forgetful people, who kept their relationship secret without knowing it.

It had just been by chance, a small chance that he had been scrolling through his tags. liking and reposting art, when he saw a tag from someone he followed. He wrecked his brain for when he had followed her, coming up empty. She was cute, no denying the beauty she had as she laughed in the video. It was a clip from a stream that he didn’t know she had, as he couldn’t even remember her name, wearing his merch as it fit her snug. It fit her perfectly in fact, the large hood covering her face, hiding the flush to her face from her rather large chuckles that left her body. He couldn’t help but like the photo, and he couldn’t help but to press message either.

It was first only small likes to posts, an Occasional message, and a view on their livestreams, but that all changed when he spoke of the song he was working on with her older brother.

It all started that night, when both lay in their beds as they talked, laughed, and felt their hearts flutter each time they heard one another speak.

Her phone rang violently in her bag, nearly making her drop the to go bag all over the ground as she walked. “Hello?” She asked, as she held both bags with her hands as her shoulder gripped the phone as if it’d fall down a cliff. “Hey bug!” He exclaimed, making her chuckle as she heard the booming sound of his voice. She had always detested the nickname, as he gave it to her as kids due to her horrendous fear of the creatures. But, it brought more joy to her, as it reminded her of their youth. Having been adults for years, it was fun to hear such a childish name that’s stuck.

“Hey mopey.” She chuckled, as that was the name she gave him when he was in his emo phase that he never outgrew.

Both talked as she walked towards the elevator, mainly about how his day had gone as she silently listened.

She had always been this way, always the shyer of the two, the one to listen to others first before she said a word. He had teased her for it most of their childhood and teen life, but he had grown to love it, as he could let loose or rant to her about anything, and he knew she’d be there just to listen to him.

“So what’re you doing right now?” He asked, as she got into the elevator. “Just grabbed some dinner a few minutes before you called and nearly made me shit.” A smile painted on her face at his boisterous laughter.

“Are you at home?” He asked, as he heard the sound of the elevator beeping in the background. “No, I’m spending the night with my boyfriend.”

She had mentioned about a month prior that she was seeing someone, the joy it brought him to hear the excitement and joy in her tone as she gushed about their first date.

If this was 7 or 8 years prior, he would be bombarding her with questions about the man, who he was, where he lived, where he could meet him to find his intentions with his baby sister. But, in the last few years, he found himself feeling calmer whenever she’d mentioned her love life. He knew she was smart, and would never date a man who treated her poorly. The few breakups she had, they always ended amicably, her head still high as she told him. So, he never asked her any questions about the man, as he could tell from the few times she mentioned him, he could feel the love this man had for her, and Vice versa.

The strong barreling of her phone alerted them awake, both groaning out as she reached for her phone without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Hello?” She mumbled, voice slurred as the saliva was thick in her mouth, barely awake as she fought to listen in on who dares to wake them up.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, making her equally exhausted lover groan. She shifted off of him, laying on her back as he turned away from her, as to hopefully shut his eyes and fall back asleep. She was used to her brother's large voice, as it hardly phased her after growing up with him. “Colson, why are you calling me this ungodly hour?” “Oh come on, it’s not that early.” “Col its-“ She pulled her phone from her ear, eyes shutting violently as the bright light blinded her “5 o’clock in the morning. So again, I’m going to ask you, why did you call me at the asscrack of dawn?” “You don’t remember?” He asked, making her irritation grow. “No, that’s why I’m asking.” She says, as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyes. “You were coming up today to hang out with casie, remember?” Her hand stopped rubbing her face, as she felt her heart stop momentarily. “Wait, you mean today? I thought I was coming Friday?” “No, both of you settled on today, remember I told you that’s perfect because I have a day off?” She felt her heart pain as she heard the sadness in his tone, knowing he’s expecting her to bail. “Yeah sorry, I thought you meant Friday so I mixed it up, let me get ready and I’ll be out the door okay? Love you” she said, as she hung up the line.

Before she could even move, she felt his arm wrap around her body. A tired groan leaving his lips. “Nooo stayyyy.” He groaned, pulling her body to his. She smiled as she looked down at him, wrapping her arm on his chest and the other behind his neck. “I wish I could live, but I can’t.” Planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Stay in bed for a few more hours, please?” Her heart pulled at his tone, hearing just how tired he was. “I can’t, casies wanted me to come up for weeks now. And it takes a good 3 hours to get there. I wanna spend as much time as I can with them before it gets dark so I can get back safely.” He groaned at this, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah but it’s only 5, it wouldn’t be safe to drive since we went to bed like, 2 hours ago.” “Yeah, and whos fault was that mister?” She teased, “hmm, sorry but I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself after not seeing you for a few days.” He mused, pulling her body closer to his, planting his lips against hers. A small hum left her lips as he pulled her thigh over his, grabbing the flesh harshly as their lips cascaded together. “Mm, no no no, you’re not gonna convince me to stay here just to go another round.” She said, as she got off from his warm body, throwing his large hoodie over her bare body. “Oh come on babe, are you sure about that?” He said, making her turn around to him. A small gasp left her lips as her eyes took in his milky white complexion. His honey brown eyes looking back at her with a small smile etched onto his face. His hair a tousled mess that resembled a bird's nest, some pieces falling onto his face. “Honey, I’ve been wanting to see my family for weeks now, I see you almost everyday and practically live here. I’ll be back tomorrow so I can grab more clothes from my place okay?” She placed a kiss to his lips, both holding one another in their arms. “I don’t know why you don’t just say fuck that place and just move in.” He mumbled, making her chuckle and heart warm. “Don't you think it’s a little soon though? I mean we’ve only been together a few months love.” “Yeah, but you’ve practically lived here since we got together, you literally just go there to get more clothes that you end up leaving here.” She looked into his eyes as she thought about his words. “Hm, I’ll think about it today okay?” She mused, planting a kiss to his lips. A soft okay leaving him as she got up.

“And babe, remember if you live here, we can have all the sex we want and not have to worry about driving to get one another.” He exclaimed, laughing at the loud honey she screamed from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but laugh out as she watched, as her niece tried her hardest to braid her fathers grown out hair. It was near impossible not to, as pieces would fall out, resulting in her pulling them harsher, nearly pulling his eyelids back due to the tension from his temples. “Okay okay you’re gonna fuckin scalp me.” He chuckled , as all three bursted out in large laughter.

“So how’s school going this year?” She asked her, as she delicately painted her nails. Both of the girls had found themselves on the floor in front of the nice coffee table, as colson sat and chatted with them. “It’s going really well.” “Oh yeah? Make any new friends?” She teased. “I mean, kinda.” She couldn’t help but hear the wavering in her tone, spotting the faint blush dusting her skin. “Ohh, so there’s a someone eh?” She teased to her, making the preteen hide her face as to conceal the flush. “His names Garrett, and we both take social studies together. He always sits next to me at lunch, and we’ll draw on my notebook.” She gushed, making her smile. “Soo, do you think he likes you?” “I mean, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” “Yeah well don’t worry about it to much cas, you’re not dating anyone for many more years. You’re still a kid.” Her das said, making the young girls face fall.

Y/N knew he was only saying this to protect her, as he said the same thing to her growing up. “Hey, don’t be bummed out about it. He is right, you both are only 12 and should focus on school. But don’t worry, he’ll come around. He was just like that with me up until my current boyfriend.” She whispered, making the young girl chuckle.

“Speaking of which, how are you guys doing?” He asked, as she hadn’t mentioned hun to her in a while. He didn’t think it’d hurt to ask. “Great actually, we’re thinking of moving in together actually.” “That’s great! I’m really happy that y’all met.” “Yeah, I am too.” She hummed, a flush dusting her cheeks.

Both men laughed as they chatted on the phone, talking about anything that would come to mind. What was once only a collaboration for a song, turned into an amazing friendship that caused both of them to call at late hours just to shoot the shit.

A yawn left his lips, as he listened to colson ramble on about another song he was making. “Woah, you tired man?” Colson asked, shocked to hear the sound. “Yeah sorry, was up most of the night last night.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Were you feeling alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew all about his friends illnesses, even once being on the other end of the phone during a bad spell one day.” “Oh yeah yeah yeah, was just, up with the misses last night.” He chuckled, a flush blooming on his cheeks. “Ohhh yeah? And how was it?” This shocked him, nearly feeling his heart stop. Like, does he usually know about his sisters sex life? He didn’t think much of it, as he knew just how close both were. “It was absolutely fucking amazing. Like I thought we’d be done for the night, fully tapped out but after like 5 minutes she’d be right back on me for another round.” He chuckled, his flush even worse than before. “Ayyyeee good for you corpse, glad to hear that puss is bussin.” He laughed at this, throwing his head back. “Yeah, it’s bussin bussin.”

Both men talk as they read from their phones, eyes wide in absolute awe of the love they received from the song. They had just dropped it a few days prior, not expecting the cry of joy from both fan bases.

He didn’t even look up from it when she walked in, until she bent down to plant a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry I had completely forgot about the tea I made you an hour ago, but I put it back on the stove to heat it up so if it’s twisting funky just tell me okay?” Before he could even thank her, both their heads whipped towards the loudness from the other line. “Y/N? Is that you? What in the hell are you doing there with corpse!” He didn’t sound angry, more shocked than anything, both of them looking at the phone in confusion. “I, I love here? Remember I told you like a month ago I was moving in with him?” “WHAT!” Both jumped at the loud scream. “Wait so you guys are dating!?” Both we’re even more perplexed, until it dawned on both of them. Their eyes wide as they turned their heads to one another slowly. “Wait you didn’t tell him?” “No? He’s one of your best friends so I thought you did!” “He’s your brother! So I thought you did!” Both whisper, until all three lay silent. That was until, the large cry of laughter that leaves the two, leaving colson even more confused. He wasn’t mad, not at all actually. More shocked and confused than anything. Until he started thinking, it does make sense, all the times they spoke about one another without him knowing, all the times they mentioned-“OH GOD!” He yelled, gagging violently, making them stop their laughing fit. “What's wrong? Why are you yelling?” She asks “like a month ago corpse was talking about how he was tired cause he was up all night having sex AND I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU! OH GOD WAS THAT WHY YOU WERE LIMPING THAT DAY WITH CAS AND I!” Both laugh even harder, as they listen to his ever growing gags.

“So yeah,. That’s literally how we had no idea we were keeping the relationship secret from her brother.” He laughed, as he red the comments and listened to his friends' laughter. She sat beside him, head laying on his shoulder as he told the story. She couldn’t help but to look back up into his eyes, as he glanced down at her, planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Keep it pg guys.” Colson said from the other line, making them chuckle.

#corpse husband imagine #corpse #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse fic #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband

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deancasbigbang · 3 years

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Title: talk about the right thing

Author: alsaurus

Artist: JassyBella

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Eileen (background)

Length: 23000

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Flustered Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Talks About Feelings, Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, First Kiss, Dialogue, Canon Divergence, Post-15x18

Posting Date: October 11, 2021

Summary: All Dean does nowadays is look for a way to get Cas out of the Empty, slowly self-destruct in his grief, and pray. He doesn’t know if Cas can hear him, but he prays to him every day just in case. What if Cas starts talking back?

Excerpt: “I miss you, man,” Dean finally says. He gets to this point every single time he prays to Cas. It happens especially fast during the off-weeks, which alternate with the Cas weeks. It’s easier during Cas weeks—he feels more connected to Cas because he’s so focused on looking for a way to save him. He’s more in tune with that part of himself that belongs to Cas. During off-weeks, which Dean only agreed to when Sam threatened to leave if he didn’t take some time to “live his life” in between obsessing over Cas, he feels adrift. He feels guilty that he’s not researching, and he doesn’t get much satisfaction from doing anything else. He waits for Cas week, and he prays to Cas. And Cas can’t hear him. Because he’s still stuck in the Empty while Dean dicks around not saving him. “Goddammit.” Dean doesn’t usually cry, but sometimes he does. Today it looks like he is. “I want you back, Cas. I need you here. I’m going to bring you back, I promise,” Dean says. “I swear I will. I’m going to bring you back and we can talk, okay? You just have to wait a little longer. I’m trying, man. I miss you so much, I can’t stand it.” “I miss you too,” Cas replies. Dean freezes. “Cas?” Dean asks, then waits a few seconds. “Cas, was that you?” Dean strains to listen even though the voice had been coming from all directions and would be impossible to miss in the silent room. “Dean?! You can hear me?” Dean knows, he knows, that this is too good to be true. He doesn’t care. “Yeah, I hear you,” he says. “Cas… Is it really you?” “It’s me, Dean.” The voice that might be Cas doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Dean has so many things to say he doesn’t know where to start. He grasps one at random. “Have you heard all of my prayers?” Dean asks. “Uh, all of them? No... Have you been praying a lot?” Dean laughs. He laughs more than he probably should. But goddamn, that’s Cas. The measured tone. The hesitance overcome by curiosity. It’s Cas. Jesus Christ, it’s Cas. “Well it’s been 7 months and 12 days since you—that you’ve been gone. At two or three times a day, you tell me. How many times is that?” “I’d have to know—” “Estimate, buddy,” Dean says, and he cannot get the smile off his face. It will not budge; he’s beaming like he’s won the lottery. “Around 573 times,” Cas says, exasperated—gloriously, mercifully exasperated with Dean. Just the way he ought to be. “That sure sounds like a lot to me,” Dean says, still grinning. “Mm-hmm. You must be very devout, then.” “Pious, even.” Dean is flirting with the disembodied voice of the angel Castiel. It’s the best moment of his life.

DCBB 2021 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2021 #fic preview #2021 promo #deancas #destiel

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

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so get this. I was gonna roll around in Tombstone related fluff today - but no, no - this post came across my dash so Now We Are Gonna Discuss the Carnal Consumption of Meat as it appears on That Show Supernatural. YEAH BUDDIES!

(also my sincere apologies to OP of the inspiration post who innocently tagged it with “lunch date!” because I am about to go Elsewhere, cursedly).

Let’s all go meat man, after the cut!

This analysis centers primarily on 5x14 Bloody Valentine. The title of course is a semi-homage to a 3D Slasher Film Jensen starred in circa 2009.

Which I will be renting soon I guess. ,[<- parasocial panda GET BACK IN YOUR ENCLOSURE]

Also Its Really Fun that the trailer for Said Cinema ends with “nothing says date movie like a 3-D ride to hell” [are you also thinking of Cas pulling Dean out of hell, or are you normal?] ***unironically the teaser for 5x14 is -

EXT. SIDEWALK - IN FRONT OF ALICE'S APARTMENT BUILDING

RUSSEL

First date.

They then eat each other. Literally they eat each others flesh. They also do it while dirty talking about it. SPN IS A SHOW

ALICE Ugh! I've been so alone. So empty...

RUSSEL I know. Me too.

ALICE I want you, Russel---All of you... inside me...

[they both take bites out of each other, Alice chewing on a piece of Russel's flesh]

****Remember this detail, as it is important.

ANYWAY, it’s truly Cursed that not only are we doing an homage to this 3-D Jensen Horror Date Flick but also this episode is specifically centered on Valentine’s Day. The day honoring romance and love Now Coopted by Hallmark, everyone, that is the day spn writers chose to introduce us to

Sir Horseman of THE Biblical Apocalypse Famine.

Canonically, we are aware that the show is drawing from the book of Revelations in its depiction of the Four Horsemen. Here’s what it says about Famine -

"When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, "Come." I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.”

-Revelations 6:5

Famine holds scales (used to weigh out grain in times of food scarcity). Spn’s depiction is represented as hunger, a bottomless pit of need. It consumes souls (demon and human alike).

Cas describes Famine a little more poetically:

CASTIEL

"And then will come Famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty... "

"... and great will be the Horseman's hunger, for he is hunger. "

"His hunger will seep out and poison the air. "

***Consider a prior season in which we are introduced to the Seven Deadly Sins. Which are the sins associated with hunger?

Gluttony

and Lust.

***this is also important

Back to the episode. Case cold open, and we find out that Alice was a Nice Girl. In that she didnt drink, smoke or

have premarital sex.

***So Alice’s hunger for the sin of Lust caused her to succumb to it; and her demise was presented as Gluttony (literally eating her partner’s flesh). HMM

Famine’s presence is affecting the town, and Cas is not immune.

DEAN

And when did you start eating?

CASTIEL

Exactly. My hunger-- it's a clue, actually.

***They lay it out a little more in case you missed it ->

SAM

I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food.

CASTIEL

Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something--Sex, attention, drugs, love...

***this is so important. but of course because its spn and our textual narrators are generally unreliable (even in a Ben Edlund episode, yes I know)

we get a red herring

CASTIEL

Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came, and made them rabid for it.

***but that’s not accurate. they didn’t get married or become obsessed with each other (remember the cursed coin in 4x08 Wishful Thinking and the unconditional love wish? not what happened here). they had premarital sex. they did the thing Alice considers wrong, and dark, and sinful. and then they ate each others’ flesh.

DEAN

Okay, but what about you? I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?

CASTIEL

It's my vessel-- Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect

***mad lad Jimmy Novak’s hunger is for...red meat? He is starving for red meat? You are telling me that the Novaks, red blooded conservative religious midwestern Novaks, ate RED MEAT SO SPARINGLY that Jimmy Novak was LITERALLY starving for it?!?! No way. Absolutely no way. This is a man who was such a religious zealot he STUCK HIS HAND IN BOILING WATER and accepted an angel of the lord into his own body but his secret hunger was for fucking ground beef?

give me a damn break.

to me this is an absolute coverup. Because Cas’s burger consumption is not related one iota to his vessel Jimmy Novak.

it is a representation of Cas falling. Cas’s cravings for meat represent his growing (and very much prohibited) feelings for...humanity (Dean Winchester), and they are presenting as Gluttony in the form of his downing more and more copious amounts of red meat.

SERIOUSLY, consider this - at one point the depiction is so desperately carnal that he is eating raw ground beef with his bare hands. It is fucking uncomfortable. and it is SUPPOSED to be. Famine stirs up hunger for the prohibited. For the sinful. That which we are starving for but do not believe we can ever have, so we lust and we lust and we LUST after it, but should we allow ourselves even just a taste of what we have been ravenously craving, we binge it until we ourselves disappear into the oblivion of our own sinful, dark desires.

Since You Want More Examples of why this cant possibly be hunger for Cheeseburgers and Cheeseburgers alone, Consider Famine’s effect on Dean. Remember his doctor kink?

**when its revealed that Doctor Corman has succumbed to Famine’s poison by drinking himself to death, Dean - very uncharacteristically by the way - reacts by saying out loud

DEAN Thanks. Crap! I really kind of liked this guy.

***please note that Doctor Corman says the following to Dean in the prior scene they have together -

DR. CORMAN [to Dean]

Agent Marley, you just can't stay away.

****was that a flirtation?

***Also, Dean doesn’t want to go out and chase tail for Valentines Day.

SAM

I mean, what do you always call it-- Uh, unattached drifter Christmas?

DEAN

Oh, yeah. Well... be that as it may...I don't know. Guess I'm not feeling it this year.

SAM

So you're not into bars full of lonely women?

DEAN

Nah, I guess not. [takes a sip of his beer] Ahh. What?

SAM

That's when a dog doesn't eat-- That's when you know something's really wrong.

***oh look we are relating things to eating again. sex/lust to gluttony. hmmm hmmm hmmm

ANYHOW - *takes deep breath*

this is also the Episode Where This Scene Lives

****JACKTING JOICES

oh and speaking of jacting joices, this is also the Dean Notices Cupids Crotch Episode.

frAckles, I am once again asking why you only permit celestial beings to hug you from behi-[gunshots]

but Dean isn’t hungry. Why? Famine has the explanation, and we get it after Dean immediately runs inside after Cas heads in to complete his portion of their plan barely giving him any time to do so because he misses him that much.

FAMINE

I disagree. [Famine moves closer to Dean and touches him] Yes. I see. That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex.

DEAN

Oh, you're so full of crap.

FAMINE

Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me!

***not Dean making all of those homophobic/homoerotic jokes every time he’s in danger or feeing uncomfortable; not that, that can’t possibly be what Famine is referencing, right?

I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated.

***not THIS parallel:

AMARA:

You're a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel, except… It's cloaked in shame

You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just... keep going through the motions.

***not the motions of performative heterosexuality!!

***Dean’s not hungry because in his heart he truly believes that he can’t actually have what he hungers for. That Thing Which This Episode Overtly but Also Very Clearly Made Obvious. It’s an angel riding shotgun [I did Do That and I am Not Sorry], eating a burger in the front seat of the impala. But, I’ve deviated from the meat of this essay [gunshots] [this time just for the bad joke].

BONUS

there’s Exists another episode in which a man ravenously consumes red meat; eventually succumbing to eating raw beef with his bare hands in the season prior to this one.

Yes Supernatural the Show That Brought Us Not One But Two Scenes of Persons Carnally Consuming Red Meat With Their Bare Hands.

This episode is a MOTW - the man in question is a rougaru - a monster that starts out as human but due to some specific genetic disorder (hmmm hmmm hmm crack in THE chassis hmmm hmmm) soon begins to be extremely hungry - “for everything, but eventually long pig.” AKA human flesh.

Wanna know the kicker?

Episode’s called Metamorphosis.

(GIF by jackttwist)

I’ll see myself out.

[DOUBLE BONUS for extra credit:

if you really wanna wild out, go watch the scene of Jack the rougaru looking at himself in the mirror in 4x04 - and then meander on over to 7x01 and check out God!stiel looking in the mirror as the leviathans writhe inside him over there. It’s worth the walk.]

***oh and @lilac-void im tagging you in this one because in exchange for your KIND creator content nomination I guess I will respond by cursing you with an Honorary tag in this, a Meat Meta. you’re welcome slash I'm sorry XO [but seriously thank you again for your kindness and appreciation; it really motivated me to sit down and get moving on making more content <3]

#yes I did do a meat meta #and what of it #destiel #spn #spn fandom #supernatural #spn family #myspnmeta #my spn meta #hellerism #deancas #longpost #spn analysis #spn 5x14 #spn bloody valentine #meat meta #<- I do not even want to know or see what else that tag would lead to

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verobatto · 3 years

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It's Always been You.

I love you

Destiel Meta. 15x18 meta.

Keeping the fire burning in our hearts, i can't believe what we just saw last night, and i have to keep screaming about this historical scene.

I wrote this meta with my friend's huge help @mrsaquaman187 , because we needed to talk more about body language. Because the scene was perfectly played by Jensen and Misha.

And i want to say thank you to my dearest friend @spnsmile because she made amazing gifs for this analysis. Love you girl!

Before start this meta, i want you to read a meta i wrote two years ago, and i want to share it again with you today.

Break the jar and do it again. The slow construction of Destiel Canon

Okay, now, let's start this journey...

Castiel's honesty at his purest form

I will analyze word by word, because this is historical, as I said before. So, let's rewatch the scene together, the scene in which Castiel released himself, and allowed for the first time, to be happy. (I want my angel back 😭).

“I always wondered, ever since I took that that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what...what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want...it's something I know I can't have."

Well, my friends, as I yelled in my Destiel meta you can find here, is canon now that Castiel was wondering what would it be to have Dean not just as a friend, but as a lover, and I'm.... Okay. (Internally screaming).

And damn @weird-dorky-little-deana and her post here in which I screamed again, this is it, my friends. Is perfect. Because is all along what I was suspecting... Remember 14x09, Pamela represented Dean's fem side, Dean's subconscious, so, in conclusion, Pamela was Dean talking to himself and saying :YOU WANT WHAT YOU CAN'T HAVE. Is because Dean thought CAS didn't love him back, and Cas saying he can't have Dean is a huge parallel because it shows the way it was constructed. Both men thinking they can't have each other. Is perfect and angsty and so romantic.

"But I think i know...I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

This is such a deep thought and it talks about Castiel's maturity of character. He understood once for all, that loving Dean Winchester, feeling what he feels for him, and expressing that to Dean, is his true happiness. Because...

METATRON: "(...) You draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. Right?"

Dean didn't know it

Dean: “What are you talking about, man?”

Dean's question shows us he didn't know what Cas was trying to say, he didn't know Cas was about to confess his love for him, he didn't know Castiel loves him back the same way Dean loves him.

Cas: “I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're...you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.' And you think hate and anger, that's...that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it.

I just have to put everything in red because, OMG, people, this is Cas in the barn all over again but after 11 years of being with him and truly sees through him, and this is Cas in the golden room:

CASTIEL: What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion.

This time answering himself, this time, healing all the weight and the pain Dean could carry inside. Because Dean deserves to be saved. That's why Cas gave his life again for him.

Even now, with Billie outside saying IT AS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, and naming him like the rebel, Cas rewords all of that, and shows Dean why he is all of that, because he is GOOD.

Oh Lord, okay, everytime I see Cas smiling and saying those words i have to repress my tears, but...

"Since Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!"

No, sister, he was found.

Castiel is rewording each bad comment or mocking angels had done based on his romantic love for Dean, he is saying , yes since I met you in Hell, i was found, you changed me, I fell for you. Damn... Dean go get back this angel because I swear...

But now, i want to share with you my friend reading about their body language on this scene.

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

"Here is interesting because usually with conversations like these Dean would get upset or strut around then disagree and blame himself for something. BUT he doesn’t do that this time. Which leads me to believe he knew what Cas was going to say... you can see his face stiffen, intense eye contact and he clenches his jaw. Which tells me he is MAKING himself listen. He knows what’s coming and he has made the decision to HEAR it."

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Here he’s trying to hold it together. He’s swallowing back tears because he wants to see this conversation through to the end."

Gif 2:

"Oh this one is fascinating because he’s not moving. This means he’s no longer trying to be sure of what Cas is saying. He definitely knows what he’s going to say. Also if you look at his eyes, his pupils are dialated. Fun fact: when you’re looking at someone you love, your pupils dialate."

If you are still alive, i just want to point how romantic is this, because he is saying that Dean changed him for good. And he is naming all their family, Sam, Jack, and humanity, the world. Dean. So practically, Cas is saying, Dean showed Cas how to take care of others. Damn...

But also....

ISHIM: The way you let those simians talk to you... Castiel, when did you get so gooey? You know why we're meant to stay away from them humans? Hmm? It's not because we're a danger to them. They're a danger to us. Case in point.

CAS: Well, my friendship with Sam and Dean has made me stronger.

Castiel rewording again, because he knows what Dean did on him, Dean changed him for good.

I Love You

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Hmmm this one is a mixture of disappointment and denile...he’s basically thinking “you can’t be leaving me again”. His slow blinking and calm appearance indicates that he’s sort of asking out of disbelief or denial."

Gif 2:

"My poor boy had so much to say! Here you can tell he realizes what Cas was saying...he gets the meaning but can’t get his response out. He starts with the head tilt which signifies endearment and fondness. He swallows hard which represents the nervousness he feels and the sadness he feels. And then you can see his lips twitch and turn into a light smile along with his eyes softening. So he understands that Cas is confessing to loving him. And he understands that Cas has been holding it in and hurting the whole time. Which is why he tilts his head. The hard swallow is because he’s being loved but wants to love back and has no idea how to express that. All he could manage was “don’t do this Cas” which along with the body language equals to “Cas don’t leave me”.

I'm crying again, damn...

Okay Dean is shocked, shocked because he just figured out Cas loves him, Cas had loved him this whole time!! Is a huge, huge revelation to him, because Dean didn't imagine his best friend would feel the same for him! That's why he always thought he couldn't have Castiel the way he wanted to.

"I can see the love inside of you, but is croaked in shame."

Shame because it was his best friend, a pure, beautiful angel, out of his league. But now... This angel is confessing he had been in love with him the whole time! And not just that but he dies after that!

Dean losing again the love of his life after knowing he loved him back, is a new level of shock and despair to him. So Dean's reaction is just accurate and perfect!

And the scene crying alone in silence, not answering Sammy's phone call is SO SO IMPORTANT! He forgot about Chuck, about the world ending, about everything, because he only could think about Cas, and how he just lost him, and how he loves him the way Dean loves him, this whole freaking time.

To Conclude:

This was the most beautiful Destiel scene until now, and i only hope for the second Destiel canon scene, in which Dean will said I LOVE YOU TOO to his angel, closing his ILY journey, and rescuing Castiel. Maybe with the reset button, maybe entering into the Empty. But this is not the end, my friends, is just their starting.

Hugs! Love you all!

Tagging @metafest @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @destielshipper221b @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @thislunarkiss @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@asphodelesauvage @2musiclover2

Buenos Aires November 6th 8:54 PM

#destiel #destiel meta #15x18 meta #spn spoiler #castiel meta #castiel #dean winchester #dean winchester meta #meta spec

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spiderling-space · 3 years

Note

Cater is so underrated! Could you do a yandere Cater fic where a fem!MC is already dating him and they’re having an intimate moment (kissing) when she decides to break up with him and he keeps trying to get her to stay (he’s desperate). He wasn’t a yandere until she decided to leave. I hope this is an okay request! Slight nsfw if you’re willing!

I don't know why but writing Cater as yandere was way harder than Kalim.

Achievement unlocked: You made your boyfriend go yandere

Italics indicate thoughts

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Cater Diamond

Warning: Yandere behaviour, toxic relationship

You can do this, (Y/N)! (Y/N) was giving herself confidence-boosting phrases as she firmly made her way to Cater, her boyfriend, well, soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. He was taking selfies when she arrived at his side. He greeted her with a kiss on the lips after he was done with selfies. She couldn't find it in her heart to return the kiss. To get out of the situation and get his attention, she gingerly patted his shoulder. Lady luck must have been on her side as he withdrew the next second.

"No kissy today?" Cater asked with a cheerful attitude. He didn't even wait for her response before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pressing their cheeks together, and making a peace sign with his hand. "Say cheese!" She force smiled at the camera instinctively as she grew accustomed to Cater's sudden selfie moments. He took a few selfies and retreated his arm to select the best one in his standards.

"Cater, we need to talk."

"Hmm hmm," Her request, once again, fell into deaf ears as he didn't even acknowledge it. "Just a moment babe, I'm posting our picture #CutestCouple #Sweethearts #CantGetEnoughOfEachOther #Ca(Y/N) #(Y/N)ter"

Oh shit!

(Y/N) launched at his phone before he could post it, being grateful that he was "You need to listen to me before you post it." Only interrupting him posting on Magicam would get his attention since it was all he cared about. “I don’t think this,” she motioned herself and Cater, “... is working out.”

“Huh? What are you saying?” He looked confused, looking at her intently while he was reaching to get his phone back.

“I asked you to meet because I want to break up. It would be better to do it in person." She felt relief wash over her after she told him what she was holding back for the last 2 weeks. "I just ca-"

"That is not cute, totally not Magigrammable." (Y/N) assumed he didn't process what she had told yet considering he was standing in front of her with a blank expression.

"You are amazing and I had such a great time with you. I thought I would be fine with you posting every moment we have on Magicam but I am not." It is better to be straightforward than to beat around the bush. He is going to understand me, I'm sure of it.

"I want people to see how cute we look, (Y/N). Why wouldn't you like it?" He was trying to bargain with her, completely ignoring what she had just said.

"You are too focused on being cute and showing it off to everyone and expecting validation for it but you don't live the moment from my point of view. It is not something I can handle. It just encumbers me." (Y/N) put her hands on his biceps gently, making eye contact so he would see her genuineness. She didn't want to hurt his feelings but the reality was better than living a lie. "I can't expect you to change or force to be different than you already are. It is best if we part ways as a friend. I'm sure there is someone out there who would love every side of you." She let her arms fall to her sides, slightly patting on her thighs as she awaited his response. He was far too silent than usual. She just hoped he accepted her reasoning as a mature person would and now was pondering a way to react.

"That's not going to work." Thank goodness, he understood! "My followers adore our pictures together. They get the most likes! We can't break up!" Damn it, I spoke too soon. (Y/N) was about to reason with him but he suddenly grabbed her arm. "You can't break up with me!" She had never seen his eyes blazing with anger, and it was a sight she ought to not see.

(Y/N) was wriggling to be free of his grip but he was squeezing her arm more and more as she continued her struggle. "You are hurting me!" She grabbed his hand on her, digging her nails on his skin so that he would let her go out of pain.

"I'm hurting you?" Cater ignored her plea as if it meant nothing to him. "You are the one who is hurting me! Are you trying to make me lose followers? Do you want people to dislike me? Is that your goal?"

She stopped her strife momentarily, too shocked to hear what he had said. "Wh-what... What does that have anything to do with how I feel about our relationship?!" He was being too self-centered at the moment, only caring about how he felt. "Listen, I want to remain as friends. We can take occasional pictures together that you can post on Magicam but I gotta go my own way, Cater." She wanted to bite his hand and kick him in the sack but she wagered it would be worse if she pushed forward so she decided to take a passive approach.

"Is that your way of pitying me? You are just like my sisters. So cruel, thinking yourself better than me, taking the best thing from me, and expecting me to be content with the scraps." He let her go abruptly, making her lose her balance and fall on her butt. "But you aren't a cruel person, are you?" He knelt on her level, lifting her head from her chin with his hand. "We aren't going to break up. That is just a silly joke you made."

Was he always delusional? (Y/N) tried to sing his tune but it didn't work. She hastily swatted his hand away. "I thought he would stay as friends but clearly you are too deranged for it!"

When she tried to get up, Cater pushed her back. "I believe you would prefer to continue dating me." He was too calm as he uttered those words while twirling the end of his hair strand with a snide smile on his face.

What the fuck is he on? He better gives me the number of his dealer! "Were you not listening to me?!" The more this drew out the more she got irritated. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He just smiled at her remark. "I suppose plenty of things but now isn't the time for me. It is the time for you." He unlocked his phone and scrolled through something. He chuckled when she assumed he found what he was looking for. "You would prefer to date me than seeing what I have to be shared on Magicam and for everyone to talk about it." He had a chesire smile as he closed his eyes and waited for her response.

The gears turned on her mind as she understood what he was talking about. She couldn't help but laugh, it was such a weak threat for her to continue dating him. "If you think I'll still be with you because you would share my nudes and you're in for a ride. The moment you share them or are involved in their distribution, my lawyer will call you." She was certain that he would cut the crap now.

Instead of him falling out of his act, he let out a burst of loud laughter. He then turned to face her once more, bopping her nose. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I put myself at that type of risk? It would ruin my life more than yours." He chuckled, giving her the most devilish look. "I know what you did last summer."

Huh?

(Y/N)'s heart started to pound in her chest. She was panicking, her breathing was getting hitched but she kept quiet this long and she wasn't going to quit the act now. "Nothing besides having fun." Her voice cracked as she spoke, her nerves getting to her.

"I bet you did. Especially with your high school friends. Did all of you agree to never speak of what happened last summer?" He was calm as if he was talking about weather instead of her secret.

"I don't know what you are talking about." She was convinced that he would drop the topic if she persisted to deny it.

"Oh?" He feigned surprise before turning his phone towards her so that she could see what was on the screen. Her breathing stopped and her eyes widened the second her eyes laid upon what was on Cater's phone. How did he learn about that? How did he get that video?

(Y/N) gulped, trying to collect any courage left. "H-h-h-how?" Her mind was racing, trying to find an escape from the situation but failing amazingly.

Cater just shrugged his shoulders, acting as if this was a regular thing for him. "I know a lot of things about everyone. Perks of knowing many people and having a broad network, I say. I have everything to know everything about my girlfriend, don't you think?" He didn't expect her to answer. Even if he did, what could she say? She just remained silent and she tried to process everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. He seated beside her on the grass. He took her right arm and put it around his shoulders. Her arms were limp, not having enough energy to fight back. He inched even closer and wrapped his left arm around her waist. They must have looked like a loving couple from outside while in actuality, one of them was a psycho who just threatened his girlfriend into dating him and the other one was a murderer who kept quiet even though it was just an accident.

Cater looked at her, stroking her face as a lover would. "Now be a good girl and wipe that terrified expression off your face. That's not Magigrammable unless it is Halloween time." He closed the video and opened the camera on his phone, holding it up for another selfie. "Smile for the camera." (Y/N) couldn't even bring herself to fake-smile. She was just looking at his phone with a blank expression. Cater must have seen it too since he pouted after looking at the pictures he took but he didn't fret about it, instead, he moved forward. "Now kiss me. Lovers kissing always gets more attention." (Y/N) turned towards him and leaned to kiss him as he took pictures. After he ended the kiss, he simply turned his attention to his phone. "This is going to get so many likes, (Y/N). See what happens when you stay with me?"

She only nodded in response, not wanting to talk. As Cater was adding tags to their picture, (Y/N) was left alone with her thoughts.

I deserve this. I shouldn't have agreed to stay silent last summer. Now not only I have to live with its guilt but also have to obey everything Cater says if I want to live free. But will I be truly free with Cater?

-------

If someone is threatening you to share your intimate photos, don't bend to their will. You can take legal action which can result in you receiving indemnity from intangible damage caused by them and they can get jail time for the distribution of sensitive personal data (I am unsure of the actual term in English). Just know your rights and don't stay silent.

I love "I know what you did last summer". It is one of my favorite horror movies of all time. I highly suggest it.

#twisted wonderland #twst #cater diamond #heartslabyul #yandere cater diamond #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twisted wonderland yandere #twst yandere #yandere #ficlet #female reader

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supernaturalfreewill · 4 years

Photo

Words: 5,103 Gabriel x Reader Warnings: none! A/N: This is part of a series! Read Part 1 first!

Your name: submit What is this?

The first door standing open down the long hallway was obviously your bedroom, and Gabriel wasn’t shy about stepping inside. At first, he simply stood in the center and glanced around eagerly, bouncing a little on his feet as he surveyed the space.

Cas followed him in much more tentatively, but curious as to what his purpose was.

“This is it, huh?” He strolled over to the small desk in one corner and picked up an open notebook and some loose papers, studying them closely. Apparently, nothing there really held his interest because he abandoned them quickly and started sliding open desk drawers.

“This is—I think this is what humans would call an ‘invasion of privacy,’” Cas said.

“Gabriel, I really don’t think you should—” Cas tried to argue, but the archangel simply shushed him and opened the cover. He ran his fingers over your handwriting—the impressions were deep on the page and he liked the slanting, hurried cursive. “Ghouls in Minnesota, Vampire in New York, Werewolf in Arkansas… This is nothing but hunting notes,” he said with disappointment, flipping through the pages.

“What did you expect?” Cas asked him.

“Something with a little more insight into who Y/N is, perhaps,” Gabriel said, shutting and typing the journal closed again and replacing it in the false bottom of your drawer, kicking it closed with his boot. “Hopes, dreams, roots, deepest secrets… that sort of thing,” he said.

Cas’s brow drew down low over his eyes again. “Knowing Y/N, I seriously doubt you will find any of that in writing in here…”

“Well, that’s just wishful thinking. Best case scenario. I will just have to get creative,” he said. Gabriel spun and looked at the small bedside table. There was a novel sitting on it and he grabbed it, opening it to the bookmark. “Y/N is an avid reader, hmm?” he said, more to himself than to Cas. “This is an ambitious read.” He studied the bookmark which was a folded piece of paper. When he opened it, it was a printed photo of you, Sam and Dean, and Cas. Sam had his arm draped over your shoulders and all of you were smiling for once. Gabriel stared at it for a long moment and Cas watched his expression soften into a thoughtful, faraway look. Finally, he folded it up again gently and replaced it in the novel, leaving it on your side table just the way he had found it.

Next, Gabriel went over to the dresser and glanced at Cas with a smirk on his face. “You know, it’s strange but most humans keep their delicate underthings in the exact same place—top drawer—” he said, grasping the handle.

Cas slammed his hand into the drawer keeping it closed and Gabriel looked at him in surprise. “I really think you’ve done enough spying.” Cas’s voice and expression were stern now, but it only elicited a mischievous glint in Gabriel’s golden eyes.

“Spying? I’m just trying to get to know this Y/N better,” Gabriel argued, doing his best to sound innocent. “I mean, so far all I know is she’s related to the two meatheads and hangs around with you. And, though it may be a surprise to you, that doesn’t actually tell me anything I’d like to know.”

“If you want to get to know her, why don’t you just go visit her now? Or wait and meet her when she’s back.”

Gabriel gave Cas a skeptical look. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Sam and Dean will have no problem with me sniffing around their Baby Sister. They’re not known to be particularly suspicious or protective.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Especially after all those Dead Dean Days…”

Cas grimaced a little at the thought. “Well… you also saved them by facing Lucifer. They will not have forgotten that. You redeemed yourself, at least in part,” Cas said, tilting his head in his familiar habit.

The archangel looked surprisingly uncomfortable with Cas’s sincerity. “Fine. Enough snooping. Come on, brother,” he said, laying a heavy hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a drink and you can tell me all about losing your grace and what mortality feels like.”

Cas frowned, but he didn’t object. He was glad just to get Gabriel out of your room…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Several weeks later

You leaned your head back on the pillows and let out a frustrated groan. “UGH! Where is this doctor?!” you demanded.

Sam gave you a look. “I’m sure he’s on his way,” he said gently, trying to placate you.

You threw off your blankets and climbed out of the hospital bed onto your feet, moving a little hunched over as you rolled your IV stand with you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey!” Dean jumped up and stopped you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I can’t stay in that bed another minute or I’m gonna lose it!”

“We’re not even sure if you’re going to get released today, so you might as well get used to the idea that you may have to stay in that bed for a couple more days,” he retorted. “So, get back in bed!”

You vehemently pointed a finger in his face. “HEY. You’re not my doctor! You don’t get to boss me around!”

Dean drew himself up to his full height and gave you a severe look.

You didn’t waver. “I’m not scared of you!”

This drew a laugh from Sam and when you glanced over he was shaking his head. “Y/N, please just at least sit down. I’m sure the doctor—”

“—is in!” As if on cue your doctor strolled through the door, you chart in his hand. He gave you a big smile. “Alright, Y/N. Hop back up on the bed again, would you? Let’s see how you’re doing.”

He hadn’t even examined your incision yet and the words were spilling out of you. “Can I go home today?” you asked urgently.

This elicited a laugh from him and he gave you an appraising look. “As soon as I know, you’ll know,” he said diplomatically.

You tried to be a good patient and sit perfectly still as he checked your incision but you couldn’t help fidgeting and chewing your bottom lip. The doctor straightened back up and crossed his arms. “Well, no sign of infection. Incision seems to be healing nicely, so—” “YES!” you exclaimed.

“SO,” he continued through a smile, “I’m going to release you but with very strict instructions. I need you to really hear me right now, Y/N. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes. I’m listening.”

“NO lifting anything heavier than a few pounds—you know what, no lifting anything, okay? Absolutes seem safer with you. And you are NOT to be doing anything physical for 3 more weeks, at which time you can start with some easy physical activity. Long walks, some stretching, that kind of stuff. And you will need to get another post-op check-up around then too.”

You nodded. “Okay. I got it.”

“Now, your brothers here ARE now in charge since I can’t be there to keep you in line,” he said, a knowing smile on his face. He must have overheard you and Dean from the hallway.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you argued.

“I’m not kidding. You need to let them take care of you. And you two,” he said, pointing at Sam and Dean in turn, “need to make sure she rests.”

A gruff laugh escaped Dean. “Easier said than done.”

“I know,” the doctor said. “I’ve been dealing with her for only about a month. You two have been dealing with her for a lifetime,” he joked, shooting you a glance.

“I’m right here, you know!” you burst out. “I can hear everything you’re saying!”

The doctor laughed and held out a hand to you. “Y/N, it’s been a pleasure to watch you recover. Now be well, and rest.”

This time you didn’t have anything snarky to say and just grasped his hand in yours and shook it. “Thank you. For… not letting me die and stuff.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re welcome. Gentleman,” he turned to Sam and Dean who both shook his hand and thanked him repeatedly. “The nurse will be in shortly to take care of that IV and check you out. Take care.”

You watched him go with a triumphant smile on your face. Sam and Dean both looked a little anxious, however. “Oh, come on, guys! He said I’m fine. We can go home!”

“You heard the doctor though. Seriously, Y/N. You’re on house arrest,” Dean said forcefully.

“Whatever. I don’t even care. Just get me out of here,” you said climbing down to your feet again. Soon a nurse came in and removed your IV. You kicked Sam and Dean out of the room so you could change out of your hospital gown for the first time in what felt like years. Another few minutes and you were stepping into the hallway, a huge grin on your face.

Sam shouldered your bag and gave you an appraising look. “You alright?” You were still a little hunched over. Straightening up completely still made you sore.

“I’m great,” you said. “Look! I’m wearing actual clothes!” You glanced down at the sweatpants and t-shirt you had pulled on. “Sort of.”

Dean couldn’t help smiling at you fondly while shaking his head. “You sure you don’t want me to go grab a wheelchair? It’s a bit of a walk.”

You scowled at him.

“I’m being serious, Y/N,” Dean said, the gravel in his voice deepening. “You’ve only done short walks around the floor.”

“There is no way in hell you’re getting me in a wheelchair.”

You managed to make it out to the Impala, though Dean had insisted on driving right up to the exit to pick you up. You slid into the back seat and sighed. “Oh, I missed you, Baby,” you said out loud, sinking in to the familiar seat and breathing in that particular smell that always made you remember road trips and hunts and late-night cheeseburgers.

Dean smiled at you in the rearview mirror. He lowered his voice and turned to Sam. “You talk to Cas?” he asked in an undertone.

“No. It still just keeps going straight to voicemail,” Sam said. “But he texted me again… to explain the origins of pineapple,” Sam said, a tight smile on his face. “It took like 30 texts.”

“What the hell is going on with him? He’s been weirder than usual.”

“Well, he has been trapped at the bunker alone for kind of a long time…” Sam said.

“He could have talked with us if he would ever answer his goddamn phone,” Dean countered, turning onto the highway. “Maybe he’s finally cracked.”

“Who?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your hands on the back of the front seat.

“Nobody,” Dean said. You scoffed.

“That’s convincing…” you said under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Why don’t you just focus on getting all healed up and let Sammy and me worry about everything else, alright?”

“You know, it’s weird, but my cells do that part pretty much on their own. It doesn’t require much conscious thought on my part. So, if someone has cracked—”

“Nobody’s cracked,” Dean said gruffly, hands steady on the wheel.

“You just said—"

“I just said nothing for you to worry about,” Dean said finally.

You let out a frustrated growl and changed tactics. “Fine. I’ll change the subject,” you said smugly.

“Thank you…”

“Any news on Gabriel?” you asked loudly, sinking back into your seat comfortably.

There was a long, silent pause from the front seat and you could see that Dean’s grip on the steering wheel had tightened.

Sam turned partially around, one arm on the seat back and looked at you. “You know there isn’t.” “No, I don’t know that. You two are obviously keeping something from me, so I think it is fair to assume you’re keeping other stuff from me too.”

“We really don’t know anything about Gabriel,” Sam said, sincerity written all over his face.

You chewed your bottom lip anxiously. Sam took in your expression. “Have you—seen him again?” he asked.

“No. No, nothing like that but since that happened, I just have this feeling—he said we would be seeing each other again and it’s like, in my core, I know that’s true.” You looked up and caught Sam’s eyes, they were steady on your face and narrowed slightly in concern. “I know that doesn’t make any sense and I know you and Dean said he’s gone but it’s such a strong feeling. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“I believe you,” Sam said. “For now, I guess we just have to wait…”

Many hours later, Dean finally pulled the Impala into the underground garage at the bunker and opened the door for you. Inside, an archangel and a graceless angel perked up as they heard noise in the garage. Cas shot upright and glanced over at Gabriel, who only smiled serenely back at him.

“Showtime!”

Cas gave him an apprehensive look and started off in the direction of the garage immediately. Gabriel followed, but at a leisurely pace, seemingly completely unconcerned.

But Cas didn’t know that this was mostly an act. There was a strange sensation in Gabriel’s chest and it was growing the closer he came to the moment when he would see you—meet you—for real this time, not in some mind dreamscape. He couldn’t even explain to himself why but he felt that this moment was going to change everything for him in some way—he knew no reason why that would be true. He had been fascinated with you since he first became aware again and had been thrust into some role connected with you… but he had this feeling, like a heavy block of cement in the middle of his chest sitting on top of his heart which was maddening in its oddity. It was like expectation and something more had solidified and despite all his trying he couldn’t shift it.

Dean pushed through the door into the bunker trailed closely by you, and then Sam hauling your bag and his own. “Cas?!” Dean roared. “Are you alive in here?”

Cas came hurrying around a corner in the hallway and his expression stopped all of you dead in your tracks. His blue eyes were wide and his face was quite pale, further making the shocking blue stand out.

“…what’s going on?” Dean asked. He was immediately reaching for his pistol.

“Don’t panic, but there’s someone here—”

“How is that supposed to make me not panic?!”

“Cas, do I need to get Y/N out of here?” Sam demanded over your shoulder, already trying to move around you to shield you protectively.

You were surprisingly quiet and Dean looked over his shoulder at you. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “Cas, who is it?” you asked quietly.

He only swallowed at the tightness in his throat and opened his mouth to offer some kind of explanation, but no sound came out. You felt like you didn’t really need him to answer anyway. You already knew.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

A second figure now came around the corner and Dean dropped his duffel bag where he stood, his fists clenched.

“Welcome home, Winchester Clan!” Gabriel said cheerfully, his arms spread wide.

There was just a stretch of tense silence between all of you which the archangel finally broke again. “Dean, if you wouldn’t mind just stepping a liiiittle bit to your right so I can—”

“What the hell are you doing here? How are you here?!” Dean demanded, his jaw tensing.

“That’s how you want to start this?” Gabriel asked, a grimace on his face. “Come on, Dean. I’m here to help. I’m not here to kill you over and over again. Not this time. I promise. Scout’s honor.” He made a small cross over his heart with one finger. Gabriel tilted his head, trying to look around Dean to get a better view of you, but it wasn’t necessary because the next moment you stepped around him slowly.

He couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his face. You found the golden light in his eyes staggering, just as you remembered it from your vision.

“…you,” was all you could get out. Sam and Dean exchanged a tense glance.

He bounced a little on the balls of his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets, actually the result of nerves, but he was hoping it just made him look nonchalant and nonplussed. “Me.”

“You’re—but you’re… What are you doing here?” you asked quietly.

“I told you we’d be seeing each other again, didn’t I? You didn’t believe me?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow at you. You didn’t answer, just peered at him intensely.

He inclined his chin a little as he studied you. “Here—” he said. He moved around Cas and started toward you but was immediately met with loud yells and threats from the Sam and Dean causing him to stop abruptly and raise his hands, palms out. “Guys, guys, guys! Would you two just chill? Really! After all we’ve been through… I’d like to heal what’s left of that nasty gunshot wound if Y/N will let me. Or are you opposed to that? Because she’s in a lot more pain than she’s letting on. I’m guessing she’s hiding it so you two won’t go all crazy protective over her for the rest of her life.”

“No, I’m not!” you argued. Gabriel gave you a skeptical look.

“I can feel it,” he said. When he spoke those words there was something almost desperate in them. “Let me heal you. Please.”

You swallowed hard at the nervous lump in your throat and stepped around Dean again, giving him a small glance. “It’s okay,” you said.

Gabriel stopped right in front of you and gently touched two fingers to your forehead.

You straightened up immediately and breathed in a deep breath, completely filling your lungs, something you hadn’t been able to do without pangs of pain since you’d been shot. Your shoulders relaxed and you gave him a grateful but perplexed look. “Thanks.”

“Welcome home,” he said again, but this time it was quiet, like it was only for your ears. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the fingertips that had just touched your skin. They felt strange, almost like the sensation when your foot falls asleep.

Dean suddenly interrupted the moment by pushing past Gabriel and heading toward the front of the bunker at high speed. Cas turned and jogged to catch up with him, wilting a little under the scowl Dean sent his way.

“Cas, you couldn’t have given us a heads up?” Dean asked angrily.

“You don’t think I tried? He broke every single phone I had and all the new ones I managed to get a hold of. And it’s not exactly like I could just fly over, is it?” he finished bitterly.

Sam stopped next to the two of them and dropped his duffel bag. “So… all those weird texts weren’t from you,” he said with sudden understanding.

Cas looked confused. “What? Weird texts? No. What weird texts?”

The Winchesters and Cas suddenly heard laughter behind them and turned to see Gabriel standing in the doorway with a satisfied smirk. Their expressions were stern.

“Oh, come on! That series of texts about the fuzzy toilet seat lid covers? The ‘bedtime thoughts’ texts? Pure genius on my part. You have to see the humor in this!” Gabriel simply watched as the muscles in their jaws twitched.

Dean rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Goddammit. What the hell is going on?” He turned and looked to Sam who was still just staring in Gabriel’s direction with somewhat wide eyes.

“It’s really not that complicated, Dean. I was sent back to watch out for Y/N. And that’s really all I know.”

This caused deep wrinkles in both Sam and Dean’s foreheads. “Okay, first of all, your definition of ‘not complicated’ could use some adjustment. I would say a DEAD archangel coming back to life is pretty complicated. Second, why does she need anyone more than us watching out for her?” Dean growled.

“Well, seeing as she was just shot and almost died I don’t think I need to really answer that question,” Gabriel snarked back.

Dean’s jaw and fists tensed and Cas stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from attempting to throttle the archangel. Gabriel only smiled serenely.

“That wasn’t their fault,” you argued, having just appeared behind Gabriel in the doorway, feeling sick again because you knew your brothers were already blaming themselves. “It could have been any one of us.”

“But it wasn’t,” Gabriel pointed out.

You looked suddenly weary. “I don’t know why we’re still talking about this at all. I’m completely fine. Better than fine now that I’m magically healed me up. I feel like there are more important things we should be discussing.”

Gabriel raised a finger, like he had a sudden idea. “You’re right. Chiefly, I need to know everything about you. Your likes, your dislikes, formative childhood experiences, deepest darkest secrets—”

You crossed your arms over your chest and were about to snark something back at the archangel but Dean beat you to it. “Alright. That’s enough!” he growled. “You were supposedly sent here to protect her, not be a total creep. You’ve just met her and you’re already trying to invade her privacy,” he said gruffly, his green eyes piercing on the angel’s face.

“Well, technically I think he already—” Cas tried to stop himself but it was too late and your eyes snapped over to Gabriel as he winced and anxiously ran a hand through his hair. Your mouth was hanging partially open and your expression was incredulous.

“What the hell did you do?” you demanded. When he didn’t answer and only shrugged vaguely, the corners of his mouth pulling down in a frown, you turned to Cas again who was doing his best to look anywhere but in your direction. “Cas… Cas! Look at me!”

Gabriel spun and locked his eyes on Cas as well. “Brother, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be quiet…” he said through his teeth, keeping a forced smile fixed on his face.

“We all know you aren’t good at lying, Cas. Even a lie of omission. Are you really going to lie to me? After everything I’ve just been through?” You purposely tugged on his heartstrings and walked toward him so he had no choice but to glance at you as you moved closer. “Cas, I almost died. And you’re not going to tell me what this archangel who is supposedly here to watch out for me was up to?”

Gabriel shot you a look that was both a little stunned and impressed. “That’s low,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him and then turned back to Cas again.

You could see the internal turmoil crescendoing until it finally burst out of him. “He went through some of your things in your room. I tried to stop him but—”

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed, his jaw clenching with anger. Dean shut his eyes against the rising tide of rage and his fists tightened. `

Your jaw dropped open again and you turned back to Gabriel and away from a very conflicted-looking Castiel. “What the hell!?” you demanded angrily. “Haven’t you heard of privacy? What exactly gave you the right to go through my room?”

He looked a tinge guilty for a moment before rearranging his features into a questioning expression. “Well, I think I should know a little about my charge—”

You shot a glare at him that was piercing and Gabriel felt his throat tighten. “Your charge? Let’s get one thing straight right now… I’m not your ‘charge’. You do not get to boss me around or make decisions for me.”

Gabriel tilted his head and gave you a peculiar look. “Well… strictly speaking I don’t think that’s true… You see, I’m supposed to protect you which means that I get to decide—”

You interrupted him angrily. “No. No, you don’t get to decide.” You looked at Cas and your brothers who all looked pretty unhappy about what had just played out. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” As you started down the hall, you heard his footsteps following behind you and as you reached the door to your room you spun to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demanded.

Gabriel looked around as if he was expecting you to be talking to someone other than him, but he saw no one else. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“I’m just doing my job. You said you’re going to bed so I’m going to watch over you and—”

You angrily bit the inside of your cheek. “No. You’re not. You can stay the hell away from me while I sleep. You’re not setting foot in my room again.”

“Oh, come on! Y/N, please. You’re not really mad about—”

You turned abruptly and slammed the door in his face. Okay, so maybe you were really mad… “You know I can just appear in your room! I’m an archangel. An oak door isn’t—” The door whipped open again and you stood there fuming.

“Go away.” Your voice was quiet but Gabriel could easily hear the anger in it and for now he decided just to back off. You slammed the door in his face again and he sighed heavily, running a hand back through his hair.

Sometime later, Cas wandered down the hall and found Gabriel sitting on the floor, his back up against the wall just beside your shut door, his legs stretched out in front of him. Gabriel looked at him as he approached.

Cas didn’t say anything, just took a seat beside the archangel on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and staring at his shoes. Gabriel broke the silence first. “Look how far I’ve come,” he said, his tone clearly sarcastic. “I used to lead legions and now I’ve been assigned as some kind of glorified babysitter and here I am, a fallen archangel, sitting on the floor outside her door.”

“You probably wouldn’t be sitting here on the floor if you hadn’t botched that meeting with Y/N so spectacularly,” Cas mused. To his surprise the archangel actually laughed and glanced over at him.

“Yeah, I think you’re right about that, Castiel.” Gabriel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “I have a tendency toward self-destructive behavior.”

“When I was an angel, I mean—with my grace, so did I,” Cas said. “Perhaps there is something about being so-called ‘immortal’ that makes us reckless with our own lives.”

Gabriel sighed again heavily. “Perhaps.”

Cas looked over at him and he could see genuine worry on his brother’s face. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine in the morning. She’s tough. Strong. But kind-hearted. She’ll let you make up for it.” Cas fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. “I see such a mixture of Sam and Dean in her.”

This only drew Gabriel’s brow down more deeply. “That’s what I’m worried about,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t know why I was sent to protect her, but I do know how reckless the Winchesters are with their lives. And all without a single drop of grace.”

Cas’s lips curved ever so slightly in a thoughtful smile. “Yes. But selfless.”

Gabriel glanced over at his brother and felt a pang in his heart for his graceless friend. “Do you miss your trench coat and suit?” he asked him.

Cas’s eyes lifted in surprise at the question and he glanced down at his sweatshirt, picking a piece of lint off the sleeve. “I do. But… it felt wrong wearing it somehow. Like being in a suit of armor while not on the battlefield.”

Gabriel nodded and leaned his head back against the wall. A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he broke it. “I’m sorry for being such a dick since I arrived. All the phones… all the lying… all the snooping. It’s strange to say but I had a level of-—anxiety,” he tilted his head in a question, not even entirely sure that was the right word for what he had been feeling, “about meeting Y/N. And I still messed it up.”

Cas sighed again and patted a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Tomorrow is a new day.” He climbed to his feet and looked down at the archangel, a strange sight sitting like a child on the floor during time-out. “Tomorrow. Goodnight, brother.”

#gabriel fanfics #gabe x reader #gabriel one shots #archangel #gabriel series #supernatural #spn fics #spn fanfiction

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 3 years

Note

For the Destiel Valentine's Prompts - Wings, Blushing, and Chocolate.

Happy Valentines!! 💙💚💙💚💙 N̶o̶ ̶I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶w̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶k̶i̶n̶k̶ ̶w̶h̶y̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶s̶k̶i̶n̶g̶?̶?̶?̶ ̶

(for those that missed it, I'm taking valentine’s prompts!!! feel free to send ‘em my way)

you got it! what a cute collection of words for a prompt <3 this is set during some amorphous time in canon, but def post-s8 because of ye ole bunker :)

----------------------- So daytime temperatures in most of Kansas during February were in the forties and fifties, which doesn’t sound that bad, but they also usually came with grey skies and rain.

Today was one of those rare sunny days, which meant that Cas was on the bunker’s roof, laying on his stomach, with his wings unfurled. The ground was still pretty chilly, so he brought a blanket out with him.

It was Valentine’s Day, which meant nothing to celestial creatures and shouldn’t have necessary meant anything to humans, but it did. When Dean took Cas with him to the grocery story last week, he’d grumbled as they’d passed the seasonal aisle, crammed with shiny red-and-pink boxes of chocolate.

Dean’s bad Valentine’s-themed mood had only worsened as the week leading up to it had progressed, Cas had noted. It didn’t help that Sam had snagged a date for tonight.

So part of the escape to the roof was to stretch his wings, but the other part was to avoid the so-called “wrath of Dean.” Sam kept shooting Cas knowing looks when he mentioned it, but Cas did not, in fact, know what those looks meant.

Cas heard the sound of a car driving away, and decided without rolling over to look that it must have been Sam, because it didn’t sound like the Impala and...yeah, Dean had been jumpy this week.

He wasn’t quite drifting off, because angels didn’t need sleep, but he was in a comfortable trance when he heard the familiar sound of boots stomping towards him. Cas didn’t bother to lift his head as he said, “Hello, Dean.”

“So Sam just left.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Cas extended his wings to get more of the sun. It was supposed to rain for a week after this.

“Do you, uh, want to do something? A guy’s date night?” Dean was clearly joking, because he was Dean, but he also sounded...flustered?

Cas lifted his head in interest to see that Dean was blushing and hiding something behind his back. “What were you thinking?”

“I could make us dinner? Like burgers or something? And we could watch a movie?”

“I get to choose the movie,” Cas said.

“Okay.”

Cas squinted at Dean. “Why are you still just standing there?”

“What do you want me to do?”

Cas shrugged as best as he could and let his head rest back on the cool ground. A few moments later, he felt shifting next to him and turned his head to see Dean laying on the blanket next to him.

“I brought this with me,” Dean said after a moment of them just staring at each other. He was holding a small heart-shaped box. “It’s, uh, chocolate.”

Cas squinted more. “Dean, are you asking me out on an actual date?”

“Uh...” Dean blushed further, and Cas had to admit that the pink shade on his cheeks was quite attractive (of course, so was Dean, even when he was being frustrating like he had been this past week). “Yeah?”

“Okay,” Cas said, and he felt an uncontrollable smile blooming across his face. “That sounds nice.”

“Awesome.”

They didn't go inside immeadiately, though. Instead, Dean took Cas’ hand in his, slowly and tentatively, and Cas’ wings stretched out over both of them, warming in the waning sun, and for the first time in a while, things were genuinely calm.

#destiel #valentine's day #imagine that after this cas' wings get a bit windblown and dean helps groom them and things get....out of hand #hehe #offbeatwrites

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banshee1013 · 4 years

Text

Suptober Day 3 - Demonic

Yeah, I’m WICKED late on this one - adulting really hammered my backside the past couple of days. So here’s the last one for this week - I’ll pick up the challenge with today’s prompt and see if I can’t stay caught up this time :D

Also in an attempt to not take 2 days to finish an art piece, I tried using a watercolor brush to try and stifle my urge to over-detail on the color - but I have such a thing for light and shadow, I couldn’t help myself but stick some in here as well, even with watercolors :D Sorry, not sorry.

Without further ado I give you - a stop in the boy’s road trip at a demonically-named National Monument (the FIRST United States National monument!), and a surprise visit from the Queen of Hell...

========================================================

Overall Title: The Road Less Traveled

Overall Rating: Mature (may change to Explicit, we’ll see how it goes)

Tags: Castiel/Dean, mention of Sam/Eileen, Post-Season 15, ExAngel!Cas, MostlyRetiredHunter!Dean, Road Trip

(Note: all ficlets are unbeta’d. At the end of the month, I’ll wrap up whatever I manage to get written, clean it up, get it beta’d, and post to AO3. So please pardon any mistakes!)

========================================================

CHAPTER THREE - Demonic

Words: 744

“So, whadda ya think, Cas? Awesome, right?”

Castiel squints at the monolith looming in the distance through the Impala’s windshield.

“There does not appear to be any signs of extraterrestrial activity in the vicinity. Are you sure this is the correct Devils Tower?”

The squint turns into a scowl and redirected toward the driver’s seat as Dean barks a loud guffaw. “That was a movie, Cas.” He gestures out the windshield. “Reality.” His mirth appears to fade to contrition, but the flash in his green eyes belies any form of actual remorse.

Still, Castiel is unable to remain annoyed at him, the slight flush on his cheeks from barely-contained laughter accentuating the freckles which Castiel finds unbearably endearing.

“Reality? If that were the case, it wouldn’t be called ‘Devils Tower’,” a high, lilting voice calls from the back seat. “Lucifer had nothing to do with this monstrosity.”

Dean’s eyes widen to match his own and they both turn toward the sound of the voice, where a tiny redheaded woman perches primly in the driver’s side of the Impala’s back seat. Her matte red lips stretch into a feral grin.

“Hello, boys,”

As one, they tear open the doors and leap from the Impala, Castiel pulling Ruby’s knife from the inside pocket of his hoodie. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Dean on the other side, weapon in hand and aimed at Rowena.

The grin fades into a pout, her eyes rolling. “Honestly, Dean? Is that any way to greet your dear Auntie Rowena?”

“Why are you here?” Dean growls tightly, his aim unwavering.

Rowena gives an exaggerated sigh and opens the back door. Castiel moves quickly around the back of the Impala to flank her as one sparkling red pump emerges, followed by the other; and Rowena slides out, the red sequins on her gown flashing in the afternoon sun. Demurely closing the car door, her expression falls into a moue of feigned vexation.

“I merely wanted to check in with my favorite Winchester and his pet angel.” She turns to Castiel, a dainty, finely manicured hand flying to her mouth in mock dismay . “Oh dear. I meant, pet EX-angel,” she says, winking.

Turning back to Dean, she sighs again at his continued defensive posture and stamps a petite foot. “REALLY, Dean. If I would have meant you harm, you would already be pinned to the ground.”

Dean sighs and lowers his weapon. Castiel follows suit, returning the knife to his inside pocket, and moves to Dean’s side.

Rowena’s hazel eyes twinkle and she claps her hands in delight. “I see you took my advice to heart!” Her gaze falls on Castiel and he squints in return. “What, lose the trench coat with your grace, angel?” She waves a dismissive hand at Dean’s growl. “Shush, I mean nothing by it.” Her eyes take Castiel in from head to toe - dark blue hoodie over Dean’s AC/DC shirt, a pair of worn, comfortable jeans and dark brown boots similar to Dean’s own - and annoyingly finds himself squirming under her scrutiny.

“Hmm, I see your influence all over him, Dean.” She giggles at her own innuendo, then sobers; leveling a surprisingly soft, honest smile at Castiel, she says, “You finally look comfortable in your own skin. It suits you.”

She draws herself up then, her diminutive stature giving way to the full regality of the Queen of Hell; her brow pinched thoughtfully and a manicured finger tapping her lips as her eyes fall on the monument over their shoulders. They turn to follow her gaze.

“Perhaps it is appropriately named after all - formed of cooled lava, which is of course heated by small leaks of Hellfire.” She hums approvingly. “It can stay.”

Castiel hears a whoosh, and they both turn to find Rowena has vanished just as abruptly as she appeared.

Dean groans and scrubs a hand over his face. Castiel moves to his side and presses a gentle kiss to Dean’s lips. Taking his hand, he pulls Dean to the front of the Impala and leans against her hood. After a moment, Dean joins him, releasing Castiel’s hand to wrap an arm across his shoulders and pull him close.

Castiel leans into him, relishing the warmth of his body against his own, and lays his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Regardless of the lack of an extraterrestrial presence, it really is quite magnificent,” Castiel murmurs into Dean’s neck, the monument reflecting gold and orange in the rays of the setting sun.

#suptober20 #Day3 #art #fic

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upthenorthmountain · 4 years

Text

Heartwood - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

I need to make a fic page, will try and do that today, but do I want to draw a picture? Hmm

Anyway here’s chapter two!

Chapter 2

No one noticed when Anna got home, and no one noticed that she didn’t eat any dinner. She went up to her bare, sterile room and she lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling. If anyone came in they would only see my head and my hair, she thought, all in white as I am, on these white sheets. She looked down at herself and pulled her hands up into her sleeves. If I were to die right now then they would just have to carry me out, straighten the counterpane, and everything in the world would keep going the same as it always has. They’d have to tell Elsa, of course, otherwise she might not realise I wasn’t here any more.

A year. One more summer, one more autumn, one more winter, then maybe a slice of spring. And that was all.

She wondered what would happen when she told Elsa.

She’d drag her back to the doctor, that’s what would happen. She’d ask a thousand questions, and she’d insist on that referral, and they’d go to the city; and there would be so many doctors, and so many more white rooms like this one. Anna would be poked and prodded and half her blood would be run through machines; and they’d cut her open and poke around in there as well, and post her into MRI machines and goodness knew what. A year to live, and that’s how she’d spend it.

Maybe...maybe she didn’t have to tell Elsa straight away.

Maybe she didn’t have to tell her at all.

Anna slept very little that night. By the time the sun finally rose, the sunrise filling the white room with some colour for once, she’d made up her mind. On the stroke of 9am, she rang the doctor’s office, and said she’d like to cancel her appointment for next week, please. No, she didn’t want to reschedule. Yes, she’d call back if she changed her mind. Thank you.

And then she went out. It seemed like a good day to buy a red dress.

-----

The dress was perfect. It was a rich, deep, cranberry red; it was fitted at the top with a skirt that swirled beautifully; it showed a little more cleavage than Anna was used to, but still fairly respectable - other people she knew showed a lot more, certainly. None of her shoes went with it, of course. It needed sparkly shoes. Fortunately, the shop sold those too, and a matching necklace.

Anna’s daring didn’t quite extend to wearing the dress at home. She quailed a little at Elsa seeing it, and wasn’t sure she wouldn’t end up changing, and then when she got home the dress - and shoes, and necklace - would have disappeared. But she had a charity tea this afternoon, and her outfit was perfectly appropriate. Elsa wouldn’t be there, and no one else would think anything of it.

She changed quickly in the Ladies in the reception of the hotel, and on a whim, brushed her hair down too. Her hair waved naturally, and usually had to be pulled back to keep it neat - but today she didn’t feel like looking neat. She pinned a little of it back from her face and peered at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t brought any make-up, and her freckles were showing something awful - but nothing she could do about it now.

The tea was taking place in the main ballroom. Anna gave her ticket to the staff member at the door, took a deep breath, and went in.

-----

She did get a few odd glances. She suspected a few acquaintances didn’t recognise her immediately. Anna took a drink and said a few hellos, then she stood to one side and looked around.

It suddenly struck her how pointless this all was. No one wants to be here, she thought. They’d all rather be at home or on the golf course or conducting their tedious extra-marital affairs, but it’s for charity so here they are. Imagine how much better the charity would do if they all just donated the same amount but no one had to book the room or buy the drink or arrange for the tiny food. Anna snagged what she suspected was some kind of deconstructed cucumber sandwich from a tray. It was actually quite good. If this is an afternoon tea, though, surely there should be cake?

She took another miniscule sandwich and wandered over to the staff member who seemed to be overseeing the waiting staff. “Excuse me,” she asked him, “Is there any cake?”

“Cake?”

“Mm. It’s not a criticism, I was just wondering. These are very good, by the way.”

“Thank you. There will be a selection of fancy cakes and meringues served after the speech from the charity representative.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Anna paused. Did she want to listen to a speech? Was that really how she wanted to spend her hours on Earth, that were apparently very precious?

“D’you think I could get a cake to go?” she said. “I have to leave now. Medical reasons.”

The man hesitated, then he shrugged and disappeared towards the kitchen. Anna surveyed the room again - there was no one here she actually, actively wanted to talk to - and thought about what she could do instead. She could go anywhere. The thought was thrilling but also a little terrifying.

She remembered meeting Mrs Davies yesterday. Mrs Davies - Lillian - had been her Science teacher, back when she had gone to the local secondary school (her father hadn’t really approved of private education, he thought it gave the wrong mindset. Her sister did approve of it, or maybe she just approved of paying money to make Anna someone else’s problem, so she’d done her A-levels at a boarding school where she’d known no one and no one wanted to be friends with the girl who cried all the time). Mrs Davies - Lillian - had been an excellent teacher, friendly and enthusiastic and full of a passion for Science and nature. Anna was not at all surprised to find her spending her retirement engaging in a little light environmental protest. She’d also been Anna’s Girl Guide leader, and taken her camping a couple of times when she was twelve or thirteen. Oh, she’d love to see her again, and have a proper chat.

She knew exactly where Bennett’s Field was. She remembered, when she was a little girl, walking down there with her father. The footpath ran down the side of the field, and then skirted the edge of the woods. You had to stay on the footpath as far as the old oak tree, because the land on either side belonged to someone else, but the corner of the field and a small patch of the woods belonged to her father.

The memory stopped her short. Yes. It belonged to him. At some point when the farmland had been chopped up and parts of it sold, a small amount of the field and a corner of the woods had been bundled in with some other land her father had bought to develop. She thought so, anyway. She couldn’t see how it would have been sold, unless the developers of the field had bought it - there was no reason anyone would have told Anna about that.

She ducked out of the room and leant against the corridor wall. Imagine if it was still theirs - she would gladly, happily let the protestors stay on their corner of the field, make whatever observations they needed to in their corner of the woods. How did she find out?

Anna knew where her lawyer’s office was. She’d heard her parents’ wills being read there, and she’d been there on a handful of other occasions since she came of age, to sign odd documents and make her own will at Elsa’s insistence. It was only four’o’clock. She ran down outside and found a taxi.

-----

Mr Owens was very obliging, and agreed to see her, despite the short notice. Anna suspected he might have some sympathies with the bats; very soon the pair of them were looking at the map, and Anna was thrilled to see that she was correct.

“I think someone used to live there, many years ago,” Mr Owens said. “Although there’s no building there now, and you’d never get planning permission - the only access is along the public footpath, no utilities. So it’s not worth anything.”

“I don’t want to live there,” Anna said, though she did, a little. “But I could camp there if I wanted, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, of course.”

“With some friends, maybe.”

“If you liked. Of course, if the wood does become a Site of Special Scientific Interest, that would affect you, too.”

“That would be alright.” Anna traced the outline of the little patch of land on the map. “And if they build on the rest of the field?”

“Then they might give you access, but maybe not. They tried to buy this land, as you know,” he said.

“I didn’t, no.”

“Your sister didn’t tell you? They weren’t willing to pay what she was asking. To be quite honest, I advised her to take whatever she could get, they were the only people who might have given you anything for it. Like I said, it’s worthless.”

“Unless you’re a bat,” Anna said absently. Had Elsa been being greedy, or had she just not wanted to sell?

“Well, I suppose that’s true.”

“Can I have a copy of this map, please?”

“You can take that one, if you like. Was there anything else?”

“No, that was all. Thank you so much for seeing me.”

“No problem at all, Miss Rendell. I’m glad I could help.”

-----

“I might go away for a few days,” Anna announced over breakfast the next morning.

Elsa looked up from her paper. “Really?” she said.

“Mmhm.”

“To where? With whom?”

“Um, you know I used to be in Guides? My old Guide leader invited me to go camping with her and some friends.” Anna buttered her toast without looking up. “I’ll have to get some camping things but there’s that shop on the retail park, isn’t there? I’ll run over there this morning.”

“Camping?” Elsa looked horrified. “Why would you want to do that?”

Anna shrugged. “Felt like it. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Elsa pulled a face. “I don’t think you’ll enjoy that at all, Anna. Camping! In a tent?”

“If I remember right, that’s how it goes.” Anna looked up. “If I don’t like it, I’ll come back. It’s not far.”

“How long for?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have my phone.”

“And where will you charge it?”

“I’ll get a solar charger.”

“And where exactly are you going?”

“Um. Bennett’s Field.”

Elsa dropped her paper. “Not that - Anna! You know they’re squatting illegally. That’s not camping, it’s a protest. What will you do if the police get involved?”

“Mm. But, if they moved over a bit to the north - and I was there - it wouldn’t be illegal, as such, would it.”

Elsa was quiet for a while, watching her sister’s face. Then she said, “I didn’t know you knew about that land.”

“Dad told me. A long time ago.”

“You don’t have to actually stay with them. You could just give them permission, if that’s what you want. And stay here.”

“I think I’d like to go, thanks.”

Elsa looked at her again, for a long moment, then she picked up her newspaper. “As you wish.”

Anna took a big bite of her toast. That had been easier than she expected.

#fanfic #fanfiction #heartwood #kristanna #modern au

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fanfic-corner · 4 years

Text

Established Relationships

So you want fics without any of the awkwardness of a weird build up or painful pining? Then here are some established relationship fics for you.

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord on AO3. (24,872 words).

Tags: Time Travel, Episode s04e02 Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester, Future Fic, Human Castiel, Castiel in the Bunker, Established Relationship, Impala Sex, Angel of the Lord!Cas.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe.

Notes: I do love a good time travel fic, and frankly, Dean still being pissy about Ruby made me laugh out loud.

Just Like You by imherecauseimnotallthere98 on AO3. (35,717 words).

Tags: Homophobia, Homophobic John, Hurt Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Protective Castiel, BAMF Castiel, Protective Sam Winchester, Angry John, Angry Dean Winchester, Angry Sam Winchester, Protective Bobby Singer, Awesome Bobby, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Scared Dean, John Being an Asshole, Swearing, Bisexual Dean, Pansexual Castiel, Past Child Abuse, Accidental Outing, Death Threats, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: When John shows up at their door in the middle of the night, the Winchesters and Cas start looking into who or what could have brought him back. Meanwhile, Dean struggles to keep his relationship with Cas a secret from his father, with some help from Sam. The tension rises between the Winchesters as Dean shows John that he is no longer the obedient little soldier he once was, and tries to establish himself as an equal with his dad.

Notes: I am fully aware I recced this really recently, but I did really enjoy it and there is an established relationship! I am starting a new rule where I will only rec things more than once if I rate them either 4 or 5 stars, but if I read a fic worse than that while specifically looking at a tag, then it will be in that post. Does that make sense? I think it does.

Take You To The Country by almaasi on AO3. (18,987 words).

Tags: Historical AU, Propositions, Eloping, Newspapers, Fluff, Romance, Forbidden Love, Misunderstandings, Pining, First Kiss, Established Relationship, Running Away Together, Moving In Together, Childhood Friends, Marriage Proposal, Farmer Dean, Bisexual Dean, Domestic Dean Winchester, Clock maker Castiel, Autistic Castiel, Frustrated Sam.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: A Dean/Cas 1950s AU. Dean reads an elopement proposal in the town's local newspaper, written by some old soul in love with their best friend. He's mid-way through expressing to his brother how beautiful he finds it when Dean realises the proposal is for him.

Notes: So cute! I love the letter Sam writes to the newspaper at the end, it was just so beautifully written and he seemed simultaneously so happy for them and so done. I’m not really sure it counts as an established relationship, but it is tagged that, so I’ll include it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits on AO3. (10,190 words).

Tags: Generically canonverse, Established Relationship, Miscommunication.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless.

Notes: Beautifully written, and I genuinely don’t know how they managed to make such a short fic that angsty. Maybe it’s just ‘cause Cas leaving the bunker almost made me cry. Hmm.

The Tea Is Decaf by mnwood on AO3. (3,673 words).

Tags: POV Castiel, Fluff, Sign Language, Castiel in the Bunker, Bunker Fluff, Canon Compliant, Sharing Clothes, Asexual Castiel, Gentle Dean, Non-Explicit Sex, Domestic, Established Relationship.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Based on this text post from thebloggerbloggerfun: "Listen, imagine Eileen sneaking out of Sam’s room at night to go to the bathroom or something and steps out into the hallway in one of Sam’s shirts only to see Cas trying to quietly leave Dean’s room while wearing one of Dean’s shirts and they both just stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before trying to muffle quiet laughter and now they have a late night club where they talk about life and gossip about the Winchesters in sign language" And this anon I received: "what if Eileen and Cas discover there are some things Sam and Dean both do in bed because Dean jokingly gave Sam pointers when they were younger and Sam took the advice"

Notes: Does it matter that Eileen has only been in one episode I have seen? No. I will rec this fic until the day I die. I’m not even 100% why. I will tell you that it is pretty much the reason I screamed when I realised I finally met Eileen, though.

Say Yes by MaggieMaybe160 on AO3. (7,996 words).

Tags: Episode s05e04 The End, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Cheating, Drug Use, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Nearly Human Castiel, Dreams vs Reality, POV Dean Winchester, POV Castiel, True Love, Love Triangles, Idiots in Love, Marriage Proposal, Wedding Rings, Chronic Pain.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Endverse!Dean's life is going pretty well with Endverse!Cas until Dean's past self shows up. A look at the episode "The End" from Season 5 from Endverse!Dean's point of view.

Notes: Quite cute, mostly canon compliant, and the ending gives me the serious chills. To be honest, the episode did as well.

What Holds Us Up by frecklesarechocolate on AO3. (39,708 words).

Tags: Established Relationship, Kissing, Case Fic, Angst, Minor Character Death, Implied Homophobia, Post Season 9.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: What happens when John Winchester suddenly comes back to life, and meets the boys as they are today?

Notes: Very cute, an excellent case, and so nice to see some characters we haven’t seen in a long while! The Sam and Jody ship did freak me out a little bit though: I guess I just never even thought of them that way so I don’t exactly ship it. (Apparently it freaked me out so much I deleted it from my bookmarks?!)

What’s A Hickey? by almaasi on AO3. (1,101 words).

Tags: Hickeys, Marking, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Fluff, Ficlet, Human Castiel, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Relationship Reveal.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Sam and Cas have a conversation about hickeys. Specifically, about the one on Castiel's neck.

Notes: Sam and Cas’s friendship has such a specific vibe that I live for but can’t put into words... luckily this talented author can, and we got this.

So there we are! I hope you enjoy them, and if you have any requests for fic lists or any fics you think I should read, please tell me! Otherwise, enjoy the last few episodes (or if you are like me, pray you avoid spoilers until you can catch up 3 seasons).

#fic recs #fanfic #destiel #supernatural #spn fic #established relationship

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raleigh-ocean · 4 years

Text

troubles of a learning heart, part 1 | billie dean howard x dara ann lynch

words: 12,580

summary: Love was quite the difficult thing at times, Billie thought many times, and she admired Dara for spending the last seven years how it felt to be truly loved, however when she started to try and give back that love to her...well, let’s say she didn’t expect that there would be moments in which she would have to step forward and actively show it. But, as she lies in bed with Dara still by her side, she thinks that she will make it as long as her heart pick up quick in the habits, in the ways of showing her dear love that she’s being reciprocated. First part of two.

warning: anxiety attack? Idk I kinda wanna give y’all some warning that there’s a heavy part near the end.

n/a: I want to thank @grilledcheeseandguavajelly for encouraging me to post it, because I’ve been feeling like a no-no since I finished this yesterday. This is full of tiny headcanons and bits from other of my stories and some others I want to write, so I hope you enjoy it. This first part is like a prequel to put a context to the next chapter of ‘over my skin, part 3’ and the second part would be the resolution of this big thing, because it goes deeper. I’m trying to make Billie finally build her love, all those raw feelings she has for Dara and put her into a few situations I think it will help her.

"Here you go papi, take it easy, don't want your mother to scream at both because you spilled your ice-cream all over your new shirt so soon."

Billie looked at Dara in that moment with a mix of fondness and amusement, trying at the same time to find a way to help the other seven year old boy, who was smiling at his brother with all the happiness a kid could gather up when given what they wanted.

Her attention drifted a bit when a loud chuckle interrupted the moment, the teenage girl that was fighting her chocolate ice-cream from melting all over her hand snapping her out of the calm picture and getting a scowl back from the last boy.

"Auntie always has shirts to spare around because they get messy," the scowling boy - Ezra, Billie recalled his name this time - was barely two months older than the twin boys, but since she met him, Billie found out that he was an intelligent and straight-to-the point kid.

"I figure, y'all lot have the same curse with food and clothes," Dara smiled at him with the sweetest dimpled smile, which was returned with a similar one from Ezra. "I remember when your sister was around your age that your abuelita always had sweatpants ready in case of an accident."

That made the teenager blush fiercely and the kids to giggle, Billie trying to hide her own smile eating some of her own ice-cream.

Today was being a good day so far even when she had her doubts about it when it started, taking in count she was not used to babysit. But she thought it was good in someway, an exception to make her remember that even when she was in some kind of vacation from work, it felt good to be able to do something instead of just sitting around in a house that was still pretty much unknown for her.

"What? Did I lie mami?" Dara, in a smooth move, saved some vanilla ice-cream from falling into the table and then ate a spoonful of her own - Billie always found funny how most of the time Dara picked fruit flavors.

"Please aunt Dara, stop calling me that," Eva - Billie remembered that one easily - gave Billie a quick glance before trying to hide somehow her embarrassment.

"Yeah, give her a rest babe," Billie was fast to pick up that and with the pet name, she had Dara smiling at her and throwing her hands in the air, all of that before lowering her voice a bit. "I think her friends overheard you enough back at the mall."

"Fine, fine, I'm only stopping because you gonna get enough of it once we are back at the house," Dara took a look over her niece and nephews before standing up. "I'm getting some more napkins before any mess happens."

It was weird for Billie to see that 'doting aunt' side of Dara, but she couldn't help but think how much it suited her. Hearing her talk with soft and cheerful voice here and there, only made Billie believe that her partner was a natural when it came to take care of the rest.

She looked at her for a second, seeing how much Dara was limping but not complaining about it, and it filled Billie with some sick respect for her...and worry.

However her attention drifted once again when Ezra asked her if he could try some of her ice-cream in a shy tone, mostly because his sister didn’t seem to let him indulge in that. Not having Dara by her side made Billie nervous for some reason, probably because she wasn’t used to be in her own in this situation. And also because she didn’t know much about Dara’s hometown, so it was a strange situation for sure.

“Kids!” the sudden masculine voice startled Billie, making her heart to start beating faster. “Where’s your mom, hmm?”

“¡Tío!” it was then when Billie entered the panic zone because two of the four kids were moving faster than she could, going to hug a man that she never saw before. “We’re eating ice-cream!”

This tall man, with leather vest, an old t-shirt of some kind of festival and baggy jeans. His hair was slicked back except for a few loose strands that fell over his forehead. He had tattoos covering his arms and some showing through the neck of his shirt.

“That can I see and taste,” the man laughed because he had pick up the twins, they were kissing him in his cheeks and giving him to try their desserts, and then his eyes went to Billie first before looking at the teenager girl. “Where’s Diana or your mother, Eva? I thought Carla didn’t let you go alone outside.”

“We aren’t alone,” Ezra interceded, scowling once again, but not looking at the man. “We are with aunt Billie…”

If Billie was nervous and about to panic, hearing the kid addressing her like that calmed her in a weird way. She wasn't a stranger to be called aunt, her own sister had a couple of kids, but she visited them so little that it was just as weird. She smiled at him, but the man didn’t even seem to acknowledge Ezra nor her because he kept looking at Eva with an inquisitive look. Eva didn’t seem to want to talk and Billie wasn’t sure if she was afraid or just the stubborn teenager part, but she did it the same with a strange glint of pride that Billie already saw somewhere that she couldn’t pinpoint at the moment.

“Working. Aunt Dara came a few days ago, she’s watching over us,” it was time for the man to go pale suddenly.

“Edo, Ev, you’re gonna make a mess all over your uncle, get down papis, c'mon.”

Obedient as ever, the twins wiggled their way to the ground and Billie got her stomach in a tight knot only by feeling how the still cheerful situation dropped to one more serious. Dara was leaning in her cane with both hands, looking at the man that was now facing her, a nervous smile over his lips.

"Ana, how you doin'?" There wasn't a visible height difference, but Billie got the feeling that the man shortened when he leant to kiss Dara's cheek in a friendly way - and receiving a soft one back in response. "Didn't know you were back."

"For a few days, yeah, we're on vacation and decided to spend it with my family," the sentiment in Billie's guts got tighter when Dara was adamant in making a point with the way she said the 'we', tapping her cane in the ground twice. "And I've never been better Godo. I'm spending the morning with my niece and nephews, what else could I ask for?"

"That's amazing th-"

"Tío Godo asked where's mama, tía," Eduardo, the twin with the bright green shirt, was quick to speak over the adult while hugging Dara's good leg.

Billie saw the way Godo sunk a bit more with that, how Dara's brown eyes hardened and how Eva looked away almost immediately.

"Is that so, hmm?" Dara hummed, fixing Eduardo's messy black hair with quick fingers, the gold of her rings shining a bit while her attention went from the kid to the man.

"Just checking in Ana, y'know I worry about the kids and they were alone," Godo chuckled nervously and Billie immediately felt a soft static in her skin. "I bet you understand."

"Uncle here asked for mom too," Eva chirped, only making Dara to tighten her jaw a second before flashing one of her smiles.

"But they weren't alone, my partner here was with them," Billie absolutely didn't want to get any attention, unlike the rest of the time in her life. "As I am, so now you can go your way with your worries eased. I'm sure you can give my sisters a call if you wanted to speak with them, right?" Godo nodded and the static went away, Dara smiling at him again as if she was even glad to have met him there. "Great, then it was nice to see you, Big G."

When he was gone, Billie smiled almost shyly at Dara and was met with the purest form of happiness in the way the woman smiled her back. It was as if the encounter didn't happen and Billie knew right off the bat that there was a long story behind all of the animosity that the kids missed by a head - except maybe for Eva, which started to act a bit softer towards her little brother.

After that they resumed the ice-cream time a few minutes later and decided to make a quick stop to get burgers for take out. Billie knew Dara always liked to actually eat in the place, but by the way her leg was acting up, it was for the best to take everything back to the house instead of staying for lunch.

"Annie, everything alright?" asked Billie while the kids were already running towards Dara's parents and Eva was carrying the bags with the food.

"Yeah honey, just a bit tired but nothing a nap can't fix," Dara leant for a kiss, one longer than the tiny pecks they shared over the morning. "I'm hungry actually, and you?"

"I'm hungry too," Billie chuckled, wrapping her arms better around Dara's waist and drawing a giggle from her. A new slow kiss making them forget their chances of making out like teenagers against Dara's mother's car were getting high. "But nothing we can’t fix before your nap," that made Dara laugh and Billie smiled big at her. "If we can, of course, I mean...did you see your nephews? We should be running before they eat our food too."

"Their stomachs are like black holes, incredible, isn't it?" Dara pressed her lips against Billie's in a lazy and tired kiss, before lacing their arms together so they could walk inside with the rest. "I think is a genetic thing."

And after only one day around Dara's family, Billie knew that it was true. She never saw so much food disappear so fast in a long while, and she was living with Dara for almost four years now and with her for almost three more.

…

“Who was the guy?”

Billie managed to pull away from the charm that was Dara spreading body cream in her legs to finally ask the question. They’d claimed the main bathroom for themselves after everyone had their turn and they were taking every extra second of that privacy.

Against the odds, Dara passed out the second she touched the inflatable mattress and Billie took that time to indulge in answering some emails at first, but after the few first ones it became impossible to do something else with Dara cuddling her right side with such sweet face. Would it be hard to take a quick nap? When they woke up, Billie thought she had been hit with a rock, her eyes too heavy, but tiny kisses helped her to get rid of the sleep.

If they tried to get some well deserved private moment, it was broken the second Darziel - Dara’s little brother - came through the door complaining about how their mother was doing some kind of zafarrancho to get ready for tonight’s dinner. Dara had hit him with her cane, repeatedly, until she managed to get him out of the room and then Ezra came in running from the twins, trying to get a place to hide. Billie knew it was a matter of time they got interrupted again and she was right the moment Deirdre - Dara’s biggest sister and Eva and Ezra’s mom - came into the room, hiding as well from her own mother…

...and in a matter of time, the room was crowded.

“Who?” asked Dara, fixing a bit her loose robe, but not stopping from going through the little routine. Billie was used to see it and appreciate it by now and seeing her so bare, raw, natural, helped greatly each time to remind her how much she loved her girl.

“Badass Godo-guy,” explained Billie, getting as comfortable as she humanly could, sitting in an old stool and her back to the tile wall. “He was pretty adamant in ignoring not only me but your nephew. Ezra told him I was with them but turned a deaf ear on it.”

For a second Billie forgot what was she saying because Dara turned around, the robe loose again and letting her see...well, some pretty nice things; and walked towards her - barely two steps because the bathroom wasn’t really big - to sit in her lap. Billie feared for a second the stool was going to collapse under their weight, but it was resilient enough. Hands on hips, hands on shoulders and Dara was sighing softly while playing with the ends of Billie’s blonde hair.

“My brother-in-law’s brother...Diana’s,” Billie silently thanked the clarification, drawing her thumbs over Dara’s thighs in random patterns - she was extra careful with the one scarred. “He’s a fucking bully, went with me to high school. Godofredo doesn’t like many people and the sentiment is mutual.”

“For being a bully, you got him acting like a tiny pupper, doll,” Dara was the one smiling shyly this time, getting a kiss just for that.

“Let’s say that I...beat him up really hard once,” Billie kissed Dara’s knuckles and fingers, bare from her usual rings, and then the inside of her wrist were one of her cross tattoos rested. “And twice, and thrice...and broke a chair in his back.” It was then when Billie looked at her wide-eyed. “That one had to do with why he ignored my nephew like that.”

Billie knew they would’ve been at it right away again, but she felt satisfied with what they did in the shower for some reason. That’s why they were last to shower, because Dara took in her hands all the things her siblings didn’t want to do - helping her mother in the kitchen, per example; driving her uncle Cedric to his appointment afterwards while Billie tried to help Dara's father in the backyard - to have the rest of the time from there to dinner free.

It was their time, only theirs to do as they wanted, and Billie wanted to actually fill it with more than sex.

Talking was good, she liked hearing Dara talk, and hearing more about her was even better. She was genuinely interested in whatever she was about to hear...because all she could focus in was the woman sitting in her lap, not in whatever was floating inside her brain almost twenty four seven.

“Godo and Berto’s oldest brother is Eva’s father,” Billie saw Dara frowning and she leant to kiss her chin, getting one in her cheek in response. “I don’t even care where the fuck he is now, Berto neither, but Godo always looked up to his big brother. Fifteen years has passed and he still forgets that his brother lost any right as father and partner the day he left my sister to her own devices, and that’s only the top of the list,” there was tiredness in Dara’s voice and a hint of rage that faded when Billie focused in keep drawing soft patterns in her skin. “It took my sister eight years to finally move on, she got married and soon Ezra was in the way. Godo still takes that as a treason or I don’t even know at this point...and well, the rest is story.”

“But I don’t get how you ended up breaking a chair in his back,” it was a lot to take in, to be fair, but Dara couldn’t help but laugh when Billie tried to lighten the mood in the bathroom.

“He decided to be a super duper asshole towards Deirdre while we were doing groceries, and well, a twenty-five years old me was really...let’s say I had a lot of pent up anger. I was invited to a party and you know how I get with the gin and he had the fucking audacity to show up,” Dara shrugged a bit and kissed Billie on the lips, sweet and slow while indulging in the intimate embrace. “If it wasn’t for Daya, he would have had a broken pool stick going clean through his thigh.”

“Wait, twenty-five, we already met when you did all of that?” Billie blinked fast at that and Dara blushed hard. “Now I can see why you were so-”

“Oh shush, I still am like that or did you forget what we did a week ago?” it was time for Billie to laugh and Dara to act like she was offended by what she said. Act because of the way she bit her cheek playfully. “But I did soften since then.”

She didn’t think that Dara actually softened, sometimes Billie could see that fierceness in her eyes, but she let her have that because she decided to move when someone knocked on the door. It was Dara’s father, Jeziel, telling them that they needed help to set up the table. Billie muffled a laugh against her hand when Dara silently punched the air and pinched the bridge of her nose before replying that they were going down in ten.

“See?” Dara started to gather their things to get back to the room. “This is why I like your sister."

"Do you now?" Billie raised an eyebrow, because she knew how much Dara despised Josephine - Jo wasn't really polite with her and openly declared her dislike for Dara, even when Dara herself always tried to be the most polite ever, to the point that even Billie and Jo's father had started to make positive comments towards the younger woman.

"Yeah, with her at least I see the knife that's gonna stab me," Dara laughed openly and Billie couldn't help but chuckle with her. "Bunch of traitors, I'm telling you, we gonna steal the natillas and the vodka bottle and go feast by the pool."

"Baby, you're on your medication," Billie caught Dara by the waist, spinning her around so she could kiss her once again. "You can't get hammered."

"Calamities never come alone," Billie knew it was a rough translation of some spanish words just by how weird was it phrased, but it was okay, who cared anyway? "Would my lady in shining armor come save us from doing the dishes tonight?"

God, why was she so goofy unexpectedly? Dara didn't seem to want to let go, her arms circling Billie's neck with care and pressing slow kisses down her cheeks to her neck. It wasn't fair, it had to be illegal!

"We'll use one of the twins as distraction and the other to steal the car keys, I'll take you anywhere you want me to," she tried to sound dreamy, fairy tale-sque even, but all she did was sound a bit desperate. "Pick a direction and I'll drive."

"God, how much I love you Billie Dean," the next kiss was glorious, taking in count it was probably the big last one until they were again in their room late at night later. "But we should go already, honey, let's go."

And that was it, their private moment ended with a dreamy sight and a kiss to die for, and Billie felt like something in her chest beamed with pride, love and a deepness she was getting fond of.

Dara was a slow walker now, to her own dismay since she hated moving slow, so it was easy to capture her hand and intertwine their fingers. Billie opened her mouth for a second, thinking about what she was going to say next, and Dara looked at her with curiosity filling her tired eyes. Without make-up, Billie could see the tiny freckles over her nose and cheeks better and it only added her a whole new level of cuteness.

"Are you okay Bills?" it was a question in a whisper, genuine worry laced with the words.

"Yes, it's only that I...well," she wanted to say it, she really wanted but it was too difficult. "I…" Dara's eyes shone in anticipation, one that made Billie feel a bit bad. "I think you didn't softened, you only got wiser and more patient."

How hard actually was when Dara said it to her almost everyday?

"Absolutely, if twenty-five me would had been in the same situation as thirty-two me today, that man would had been at the dentist to get fake teeth for real as of now," Dara giggled, hiding away the little disappointment upon not hearing those words she wanted to hear so bad, and kissed Billie's cheek sweetly. "Not letting him go with the soft warning of 'go already or I'll break your ribs with my cane'," one more kiss to Billie's nose and a dimpled smile. "Now let's go, before Diana breaks a new plate in the way to set up the table."

...

Billie didn’t know what to do at that point and it perfectly showed.

She always had easy talk ready to overcome awkward situations, that’s how she survived to lots of parties all those years. But Dara could see that it wasn't that easy for her right in this moment, not when she was watching Deirdre and Diana argue over God knows what and none seemed to want to stop them.

Dara was used to that, Deirdre was always out of touch with the fact that Diana was sensitive and Diana always forgot that Deirdre loved to burn every argument down to the base. It didn't help at all that her mom was trying to give Billie some pointers about, again, God knows what and that was messing up with any tempo her dear medium was trying to keep. She wanted to go save her before it was too late for her head, but she was busy getting the plates over the table in order while Eduardo tried to talk her ear off about the show he seemed to love so much these days.

How could a seven years old talk that much and so fast? If she wasn't trained with the old ladies at the store, she would've gone insane only five seconds in.

"¿En serio, papi? Give me that," Dara smiled at her nephew, not wanting to cut his speech but needing the cutlery in his hands. Eduardo gave it to her without taking a break from talking. "Hmm, abuelita gave you more forks, someone's coming?" But the kid was too deep in his world of explaining to his favourite part to actually pay more attention than the necessary to his aunt. "Well, we'll see later then."

It was something that didn't worry Dara at all, taking in count in her house there was always more people than the usual. Maybe her parents invited some friend over or her siblings, who knows? Reaching for her cane, which she left against the table, Dara decidedly tried to move towards Billie now that she was free.

Her grandfather, Bruno, saved the medium from the little chaos and they were sharing a comfortable silence in the couch, or at least that much Dara could see. Seeing both like that, two of the most important people in her life getting along well, made her stomach explode with butterflies as if she was a teenager again. And she wanted to be part of it too, even when she overheard some ruckus in the front door.

However, the ruckus had a name and Dara was interrupted in her tiny quest of making her way to Billie because of the new guest at the house.

"Oh God, Dara!!!!!" Loud as ever, the asian girl crossing the backyard door was smiling directly at her, running with open arms towards her and meeting in a big hug. "How long since I last saw you? Instagram posts doesn't count, it's been forever!"

"Don't be dramatic Gemma, I was here a couple months ago," Dara couldn't help but laugh at her soon sister-in-law's antics. "I hope Darziel is treating you right."

"Your brother will always treat me well," Gemma's laugh was clear and soft, making Dara feel at ease only with that. "Where's your mom, by the way? My mom made me brought over some desserts and other things."

"Kitchen...I think? You know the drill, follow the panicked voice and you'll find her," they both laughed with that and Gemma hugged her again, Dara indulging on it because well, she missed her friend, to be honest. "At my left at dinner like always?"

"Of course! Your right is for your grangran, how can I stole his sea-"

"Actually, tonight Billie is at my right," the statement made Gemma stop from walking and she looked back at Dara with surprise and curiosity written all over he face. "He's at her right."

"No way, is she here?" Hearing Gemma so excited only because Billie came to Sacramento this time, made Dara happily hum and nodded where Billie was now shyly chatting with Deirdre's husband. "Okay, okay, later you'll fill me with details and I'll try to sell my soul to the devil so you two have a table at the restaurant before you go back home," Gemma squeezed Dara's hand over the cane and smiled big at her before Ezra drew her attention, hugging her by the thighs. "Hey, big guy! Let's go see your granny, I brought your favourite mini-cakes."

When Gemma was gone, Dara couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Who would have tell that an eight year gap was something difficult in a friendship? She practically saw Gemma grow up in the woman she was today, her brother and her the bestest of friends until the spark of love grew between them and became more. To this day, it still amazed Dara how everyone was so blind to not see how Darziel was head over heels with her since they were little.

Maybe she could tell Billie that story at the promised dinner at Gemma's parents' restaurant.

Looking towards her blonde, Dara caught Billie asking for silent help because Abraham was drifting away in the conversation - as always - and she was getting even more lost if it was possible. Yeah, she totally needed to save her girl, be the knight in shining armour first and all those nice things.

But right in the moment she was about to take the first step, she heard it clear even over the voices of everyone.

The whir of a motorbike making a left in the corner of the street, the engine stopping in front of the house...it was loud enough to fill the silence of the street even when the house was alive with voices. It made Dara's stomach churn anxiously just with that, because she knew that exact sound by heart and soul. She really wanted it to be a hallucination because of the mix of allergy and pain meds, but the doorbell going off told her it wasn't.

Frozen like she was, Dara managed to turn around when she heard the rest welcoming the new guest that came through the backyard door. She wasn't ready for this, not at all, but she composed her best smile by the moment her eyes locked with those she knew from a long time ago, filled with surprise and something deeper, something she wasn't sure what it was because she was too worried to not runaway in that moment.

"Dara...Ana," her second name was always the way to soften her and only three people in this world could make it work. "You look beautiful, how are you?"

Her grandfather, Billie and Benjamin, her ex.

"Getting ready for the feast," Dara smiled in automatic and she immediately knew Benjamin knew it as well, that she was slipping into her full damage control mode as the clock was ticking even when she felt herself less tense. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

And it wasn’t a lie, he had changed...both had changed greatly, in fact, but Dara thought the change looked better on him. Benjamin sported his hair short, one of those modern haircuts kids these days wore, and it was obvious he had trouble with styling it since he had wore it long since Dara had memory. He was dressed in jeans, clean sneakers, and shirt buttoned all the way up...and he looked so uncomfortable on it, that it drove Dara crazy for some reason.

Making her forget that she had literally no clue why he was even there.

And she moved towards him, like a magnet, instead of going to save Billie from Abraham’s never-ending talk.

Billie saw how Dara made her way towards the new man in the house and she felt something waking up in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn’t like she didn’t see Dara interacting with people, she was always polite and kind even with strangers, but it was the way the man threw his hands a bit to help her girl, the way Dara only moved her hand to dismiss it and got what she wanted - because who could get Dara to indulge without a fight? -; the way she fixed his shirt and his hair with quick fingers, the man thanking in a whisper while he also fixed his belt; and obviously the way he took her cane’s hand and kissed her fingers, over her rings, respectfully.

All of that it what truly woke Billie’s raw jealousy...but in a way she had never felt before.

A sad one that started eating her alive right in that moment.

It went worse the second they were all sat at the table finally. Dara seemed nervous, her fingers flickering with the need of having a cigarette over her knee, when this man sat in front of them led by Dara’s mother. Billie wanted to reach for her hand, intertwine her fingers with hers and kiss her head to whisper the softest ‘I love you’ ever whispered and see if it would help her girl to calm down.

Her eyes went to the rest of the table, trying to see if anyone was acting different, but she was met with the pure happiness of a family gathering. It gave her the empty sensation she sometimes had with Dara, like an impenetrable wall that hold back everything, but when she looked at their side of the table…

...she was met with something completely different.

Gemma was her bubbly self, but she kept being the most attentive towards Dara, talking her ear off but also giving her reassuring touches here and there. Darziel was as nervous as his sister, but he was trying to keep himself busy with eating because unlike Dara, his appetite never died apparently. Don Bruno kept eating, his eyes on the man as if he was able to dig holes in his skull just like that, but also kept passing Billie some of the dishes so she could eat a little of this and a little of that, making mumbled pointers about the food. Berto and Abraham talked to each other, to their kids, but sometimes gave nervous glances to their wives and to this man.

When her eyes finally landed in Carla, in the right end of the table, Billie knew there was something bigger than a family gathering going on and somehow, her sad jealousy went to a second plane because her attention was drawn by this same man that seemed to destabilize the whole picture.

“Sorry, I think we weren’t introduced,” he had a sweet smile, gentleman like, and it was pretty visible for her that he was trying to make things less awkward. He stretched his hand over the big lasagna platter and Billie went in automatic, taking it in hers. She expected a strong handshake but he held her hand as delicately as he did with Dara’s minutes ago. “I’m Benjamin Hernández, my parents are old friends of the family.”

“Billie Dean Howard,” she said her name trying to add the punch she always added when meeting someone, but she failed miserably. “I’m Annie’s partner.”

She did not fail, however, in finally reaching for Dara’s hand under the table with her free one, intertwining their fingers as she wanted. She didn't need to put up the charade of the medium of the stars, the fake smile, a more composed voice. She was just Billie.

And having Dara looking at her with the whole universe shining in her eyes was all that she needed to get her going through the whole dinner.

...

Saying that she ate too much was an understatement, she was pretty sure that she never ate that much to begin with. But it didn’t feel wrong, Billie was actually satisfied, warm and feeling just a bit tipsy thanks to the wine, making her enjoy better the rest of the night. She was still pretty much jealous, who was she kidding, but having Dara so close to her while they were playing domino with Diana, Deirdre and Gemma did wonders on her mood.

Dara seemed less nervous and leaving tiny pecks in her cheeks every time they did a good move in the game seemed to be helping her keep whatever storm that’s brewing in her head at bay.

“No, honey, you need to pay attention to this and this,” Billie nodded, following Dara’s hands. “And then...you put this one and boom! We won!”

“No fucking way!” Diana laughed at Deirdre’s reaction, Gemma still trying to figure out how Dara had won once again at domino. “To Hell with you, how do you do that? You always sucked ass to this game.”

“I found some online domino and the store is empty too many hours a day, I got better just by boredom,” Dara chuckled while Diana pulled all the tiles together, so they could play another round. “And Dahlia and I always play when we get together, she’s teaching Shelby as well.”

“And how that’s going? She’s a pretty good teach, I’ll always remember how she helped me with maths over Skype.” asked Gemma, happy to hear about Dahlia.

“Horrible, for a yoga instructor, Shelby sure does have like zero patience,” Billie laughed at that, the memory of how frustrated the other blonde woman was fresh in her head, while Dara put her arm over her shoulders. “Dahlia loves her too much to tell her, but hey, until then we got some funny show going."

Billie looked at Dara for a second, taking in the way the orangish light lightened her features ever so softly. Beautiful, so beautiful, so, so beautiful that Billie leant to kiss her just because she couldn't help it at this point of the night. Dara smiled against her lips and also indulged on it, her hand to Billie's cheek to loosely caress her cheekbone with her thumb.

It didn't last long but they kept kissing each other, peck after peck and making them forget they were about to play another round of domino, making both forget they felt still uneasy from dinner.

"Go get a room you two," Diana threw them a domino tile and Dara chuckled against the last kiss, receiving another one in the cheek.

"Same room you all keep using as hiding spot? No, thanks, I pretty much prefer to wait a few more days till we get home," Billie hid her face in Dara's neck so they couldn't see her smiling smugly at the lie, but also fondly at how the word 'home' sounded in Dara's lips. "Unless you want to learn some stuff from yo-"

"Oh my dear lord, don't finish that sentence Dara Ann Lynch!"

Everything sent them all into a big fit of laughter, one shushed quickly by Carla coming out from the kitchen back door with her arms akimbo. They five were the only ones still in the yard, the rest inside taking care of dirty dishes, sleepy kids and furniture moved.

“You better move inside, your father is already getting the ron out and all,” it was their cue to move, Billie knew that pretty well, and she soon had her arm ready for Dara to take. “Billie, can you be a dear and help me with coffee?”

“I can help you m-” Dara started to say before Billie could say or do something.

“Oh no, cariño," the way Carla smiled made Billie's stomach churn and she gave a side glance to Dara. "You rest a bit, okay? Dei, Dia, help your father, I think he's also fighting with the music thing you bought him for Christmas."

Deirdre and Diana said 'si mamá' at the same time and Gemma scratched the back of her neck, not knowing what to do since her mother-in-law didn't give her a task. Carla was still there, waiting for Billie, and she smiled at her before squeezing Dara's forearm a bit.

"Of course Carla, I'm coming."

Dara smiled faintly when Billie kissed her cheek and Gemma was quick to replace her, helping with the moving part towards the living room. As the day has gone by, Dara was feeling drained because all of the come and go had strained a bit her bad leg, and not even her cane was enough to make her feel steady.

Billie didn't want to leave her side, but playing nice with Dara's mother was important at this moment. She always felt there was some kind of separation with Dara's family and her, and she wanted to close that stranger gap. Sometimes she felt like they all were waiting for Billie to dump Dara and it was unnerving, to be fair, making her guts twist uncomfortably.

When she passed by the living room, Deirdre and Diana were talking with their father in spanish, the tone of their voices one of mockery yet exasperation because probably it wasn't the first time they helped him with the whole device. Cedric, Dahlia's father, was talking with Benjamin and Berto on the couch, while Abraham was getting glasses from a cabinet. The whole living room was getting cozy in someway, a kind of warmth Billie wasn't used to but she found herself not minding at this point...even enjoying it.

Everything was really different from her own childhood home.

Bruno gave Billie a warm smile when Carla and her got in the kitchen, tapping slightly with his hand the side table there to the rhythm of the song that was now playing in the background softly. There was still food in the counters, waiting to be fully cold and be stored in the fridge, but also there was a plate and a glass aside that made Billie recall that Dara's little sister, Dayanara, wasn't around yet.

"Is Dayanara coming home soon?" asked Billie after being told where were the stuff for coffee.

"Yeah, she called a few minutes ago, said in forty-five she'll be here," Carla chirped, turning on the stove so she could put the coffee pot and a kettle to heat up. "Daya's been working too many extra shifts this week, my poor baby."

"For a week that her sister is here, she should have stick with her usual schedule," rumbled Bruno, playing with a piece of paper that was over the side table.

"Ay papá, you know how she is, she just want to be better and be a good nurse, and that takes a lot of hard work," Carla gave Billie some cups and gestured her where the little spoons were. Dara had the same hand gestures as her mother, she noted.

"All I'm saying is that we barely have Anita here, demonios."

"Dara understands that Dayanara is working hard, she's the happiest as long as they can have some time together," interceded Billie after retrieving the spoons, leaving them in the tray they were getting ready. "But…" she looked over her shoulder before lowering her voice, a bit worried. "I feel like Dara thinks Dayanara is avoiding her or something."

And it wasn't a lie, to be honest. Dara did commented on it one of the days late at night, when they were lying awake because of the heat, and Billie easily picked up to what her girl was saying the next morning. She was always good at picking up the behaviour of the rest, even when sometimes was harder, thanks to her own gift and just by how Dayanara turned down every plan Dara had proposed to her, well, what else could be said.

However, Billie didn't drop the comment that innocently. If something was up, maybe a push in the right direction would give her some pointers about why everyone seemed so uneasy since they arrived. It wasn't only a thing of that day, Billie had been picking up the weirdness in the family little by little and decided to keep it to herself so Dara could enjoy their time there.

Maybe today was just too much, overall after seeing how Dara had reacted upon having that Benjamin guy over dinner with them all.

"No, no, no, she's just busy," even when Carla's voice was a bit happy-go-lucky, Bruno's scowl said that there was something else behind. "And tired, that's all."

Carla still didn't know how stubborn could Bullie get, unfortunately, let alone when Dara was involved. She needed to cut everything by the root the moment it started to bother her girl, she didn't make the rules.

"Well, you can lie to her all you want," Billie said, a match lightening inside her chest, while pushing the kitchen's door to shut it close. "And she's going to let you if she noticed, but not me. What's going on?" she asked it with the voice she usually used on set. "Since the second that guy was in her view, Annie's been all shook up, and I don't like that because we're supposed to be on vacation, away from any headache."

Billie didn't miss how Bruno looked at her, a proud glint in his eyes, when she crossed her arms under her chest and looked at Carla with all the courage she had gathered up in a matter of seconds.

God bless coffee for being so slow to be brewed.

"You can't tell my daughter about it, okay?" Fucking bingo, thought Billie when Carla finally gave in, looking at her to get a nod in response. "Did she talk to you about Benjamin before?" Negative, Billie shook her head. "He's her ex-boyfriend...and he's now dating Dayanara."

…

Dara had her eyes closed, trying to focus in how her father's heart beat, all while listening to him hum along the song that was currently playing.

They managed to get the music going and she was just too tired, hoping that Billie could free herself from her mother's hands soon, but her father had pulled her to dance with him.

She couldn't say no and she preferred to be occupied with something instead of leaving room to Benjamin to talk to her again. Dara was still trying to wrap her head around why he was there and, as much as she wanted, there was something buried deep inside her chest that stopped her from start a third degree interrogatory right away.

“...Y si en sueños pudiera volar, yo llegaría hasta ti,” her dad started to actually sing and Dara smiled, still her eyes closed. “Para entonces hacerte escuchar, lo que nunca te pude decir…” Dara giggled when he switched to humming again and it drew a low laugh from Jeziel.

“¿Ya te olvidas de tus canciones favoritas, viejito?” she asked in a mumble, letting herself be held better by her father. At times, more often than not these days, she missed the feeling of protectiveness being in his arms gave her.

“Ya sabes que nunca las aprendí del todo mami,” Jeziel smiled and kissed the back of her head, still swaying to the rhythm of the ballad.

“So lucky mommy loves you, you’re such a romantic,” she shook her head and tightened her hug.

“Sometimes I think she still loves me because I’m strong enough to move stuff around, like, I still got the guns and all,” Dara felt her father flex his arms a bit, making her roll her eyes because he still called his muscles like that. She felt how her father left his hand in her hair, carefully brushing her soft locks. “I like when you let your hair grow, makes me remember when you were home.”

Maybe that was why she didn’t like it, because it made her remember of all the things she didn’t want to relive, but sometimes she kept postponing going to the hairdresser when she was too busy and her head too full of thoughts. Which was kinda why it was getting longer these days without her caring much about it.

Spying through her eyelashes, she looked right at Benjamin, who was one of the reasons of why she did things differently these days.

“It makes me remember home as well,” Dara mumbled, hiding from her father that they remembered different things. “But I probably cut it once I’m back.”

“Ay no, mi niña, espérese a después de mi cumpleaños,” Jeziel pressed his hand a bit on Dara’s head, chuckling in that warm way he had. “Deme ese pequeño regalo, siempre te viste linda con tu pelito largo.”

“Okay, okay,” Dara sighed a laugh and looked at her father in the eyes finally, kissing his cheek fondly. Two months more of having long hair, she could do it...she thought. “But that’s your gift and that’s it, no more,” it wasn’t like a Dara had her father’s gift bought five months prior or else. “And you have to promise to make your chocolate cake for only us two and have a Rush Hour marathon...mojitos included.”

“None haggle like you, Anita,” Jeziel kissed her daughter’s forehead with love and tenderness. “You got a deal, but do you think Billie likes Rush Hour? Maybe we can let her have some cake and mojitos too.”

If Dara felt still uneasy, having her father to express curiosity and even show initiative towards Billie was a direct shot to her heart. Since the moment she told them she was dating Billie, her family except for her grandfather, Darziel and Gemma had been a bit...hesitant towards her. That in...seven years she didn’t show up much didn’t help her case, but she was taking steps forward and that seemed to have helped Dara’s family to also get interested, to want to get involved.

And that was the only thing Dara ever wanted since she knew she wanted to be with Billie as long as possible.

“Who do you think watch shitty movies with me back in Los Angeles? Dahlia?” that made father and daughter laugh, because Dahlia hated movies like those. “Billie sticks with me every time I get int-”

“Perdón,” Benjamin’s voice cut the father-daughter moment like a hot knife over butter. “¿Puedo...bailar con Ana, señor Jeziel?”

Dara felt her father’s hesitation in the way he didn’t stop from holding her, like he used to do when they were dating, and then the soft look in his face. Dara was the one between her siblings that resembled his father the most, her mother always joking that even as a days-old-baby she could pick point her from a bunch of other babies easily. So Jeziel got back the soft look he was giving, the permission Benjamin was asking for being given by his own daughter in the form of a tiny kiss on the cheek before his daughter turned around in his arms to put both her hands in the man’s shoulders.

His attention was drawn, however, by Eva wanting to dance with her grandfather and Dara was left with the source of her stress, who was trying to just mimic the way Jeziel was holding her daughter seconds ago.

Dara felt her body react like a ghost of what she was once. Forearms over Benjamin’s shoulders with her hands intertwined, Benjamin’s hands folded in her lower back and both looking into each other eyes with dozens of nights, days, noons spent together being there like a faint memory.

It felt like they were seventeen again.

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two and their love stronger than ever...yet they both were there, thirty-two and sharing space after ten years since the last time they touched each other, seven years since the last time they heard each other’s voices.

“I was being sincere back there, you still look beautiful,” it was a shy approach from him but Dara thanked it the same, because she was a bit speechless. “Thought a bit skinnier than I remember.”

“All my baby fat finally went from everywhere to my thighs and tits, what can I say? Still got some in my hands, though,” Dara couldn’t help but feel a tiny fire in her chest, full knowing Benjamin was picking at her and falling, making him laugh. “But I was sincere too, Min, you look nice even when I feel you’re wearing someone else’s skin.”

“Well...I thought it was time to make a big change once and for all, look nice and sharp, y’know?” that face that she once found so kissable didn’t change, the soft smirk on his lips, the rise and fall of his eyebrows. “Lena dragged my ass so hard after getting out that I kinda indulged in some brother-sister bonding time that ended up with me looking like one of these modern kids.”

“Your little sister won’t ever change...nor you do; she says ‘go’ and you say ‘where’,” Dara rolled her eyes at hearing, once again, her ex-sister-in-law’s antics. “How are you handling everything?”

Dara didn’t want to address the elephant in the room so soon, but it was better this way now that he kind of mentioned it. She felt her voice soften because six and a half years in jail wasn’t something easy to talk about, Benjamin’s features softening as well.

“It’s weird, not gonna lie in here, but these months are teaching me new things...and also making me think about some others,” he made that tiny gesture with his nose that indicated his cheek was itching and Dara’s hand went there to ease him, leaving it now in his shoulder while her other arm circled his neck. “Can you believe Godo approached me?”

That was something that ignited her from the pit of her stomach, raw anger destroying whatever coherent thing she was about to say and going full protection mode.

“Min, don’t te-”

“I spit on his feet the second he was a meter from me, your father and your uncle saw me,” Dara felt Benjamin reassuringly caressing her lower back with his thumbs. “I’m not going back Ana, I’m trying to do something meaningful with my life...not going back with those that left me behind,” his smile was sad and full of hurt and all the anger that Dara was feeling settled in uneasiness. “You were always right, I still don’t know how you put up with all of it...and I’m sorry what it did to you, to us.”

Those words were ten years late, still made her heart ache with all the resentment she never managed to wash away.

“Someone had to protect you,” Dara shrugged, Benjamin taking her hand in his and pressing it in his chest, against where his heartbeat was going steady and where he had tattooed the same moon as Dara had under her right collarbone. Dara knew her ex was feeling her rings, her crooked fingers from a handful of times she broke them in a street fight when they were younger. “And I’m not drunk enough to have this full conversation, Min...not that I can get wasted now, anyway, mix of pills I became.”

“Viejita te me volviste,” Benjamin didn’t seem to mind that Dara didn’t want to follow that conversation, but both knew someday they’d have it and they were okay with that for the time being.

“It’s not my fault this house became like an animal shelter, okay? My allergy skyrocketed in between Diana and her cats, Deirdre and her dog, my parents with Zeus...santo niño Jesús, give me a rest,” it wasn’t that Dara hated animals, she loved them in fact, but her allergy to animal fur...not goodie at all. “If my leg wasn’t acting up like a bitch, I would give the vodka a try,” she chuckled at that and a voice in her head nagged her because she also took one more of those. “But we have what we have.”

“It’s okay with me as long it’s okay with you,” Benjamin looked troubled for a second. “When my mother told me about the accident, it scared the shit out of me...watching you with that cane didn’t help to put me at ease at all.”

Two years had passed since the car accident but some days Dara still recalled it as if it was yesterday.

“Rehabilitation wasn’t enough, the limp will always be there as an effect, but I do prefer the limp over not having leg at all,” it was a too hardcore way to put it, but Dara always was direct like that. “Shit happens, Min.”

“I know but…” the hurt in his eyes was much deeper than Dara could think. “The thought of you alone in a hospital bed...it hunts me at times.”

Dara felt that last sentence like a glitch in the somewhat calm moment, deafening her for a second and her eyes straying from Benjamin’s face to where the kitchen door was opening, her mother, her grandfather and Billie coming back with the coffee, tea and whatever her mother was also getting ready. She kept swaying with Min but her whole skeleton wanted to escape, to take Billie by her hand and go upstairs, hide in the room and forget this night by drowning herself in between her lover’s thighs...as vulgar as that sounded.

“I wasn’t alone,” her voice was so faint that it hurted somehow. “Billie watched over me, she never left my side.”

While saying that Dara saw Billie freeze halfway to the living room’s table, locking eyes with her. Billie’s expression resembled a deer caught in the headlights and somehow the sensation of getting away from Benjamin got worse, as if his mere contact was like embers. Dara silently looked at her in search of an answer of sorts, Billie opening and closing her mouth ever so slightly and looking away from her.

Was that tea in her hands?

“Your partner, yeah,” Dara couldn’t tell what kind of feeling Benjamin wanted to convey, her own emotions building up, overwhelmed. Mockery, sadness, resentment, knowledge, she didn’t know, she didn’t want to know. “The ultra nice blondie, with the medium thing going. Your mother told me about her. If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought she was having a fling with you or something.”

Billie wanted to break the cup of tea in her hands against Benjamin’s head, that was for sure, but right in that moment she was a bundle of mixed feelings after what Carla had told her in the privacy of the kitchen.

She had seen Dara dancing with Nora multiple times, even hummed along the song they were dancing to, but it didn’t wake up the same feeling that the image in front of her was at the moment. She truly wanted to have the strength to pick up Dara in her arms, going full bridal style and take her upstairs, or somewhere entirely else to drown in being the two of them alone. There was no cigarette able to calm her right now, not even one of Audrey’s joints would help at all.

But there was something in Dara, the way her face was one of pure pain and surprise at the same time, that didn’t sit right. She seemed to be withdrawing from Benjamin as the seconds passed by and Billie’s eyes went to how the rest didn’t seem to notice the change in Dara at all.

It was then when the front door opened, keys clinking muffled thanks to the music, and the last Lynch arrived at the house.

No, this can’t be.

She thought that with her heart twisting in her chest painfully, seeing how Dayanara looked as mortified as Benjamin apparently but being more subtle about it. Billie didn’t need to read minds to know that Dayanara perfectly knew her boyfriend didn’t say shit to her sister or the rest did. They were all acting normal and her face showed clearly how tired, angered and confused she was. Billie felt Bruno by her side, taking from her hands the cup of tea she had ready for Dara, and leaving it over the table while letting his free hand to rest in the middle of her back. A silent support, she supposed.

“Daya!” Carla was trying too hard to cover her own surprise by being happy about her arrival. “I’ll heat you up some food, go get change and-”

“Mamá, por favor, cállate,” Billie didn’t need to understand spanish to fully know what was said by how Dayanara pinched the bridge of her nose after pulling up in her head her glasses, leaving her bag over a chair. She was still wearing her nurse uniform. “I’m too tired to handle this right now but I’m going to rip off the band-aid once and for all, and fuck everything.”

“What’s going on?” it wasn’t ‘what are you talking about?’ what came from Dara’s lips and Billie already expected her to say that because as much as she liked to be direct, Dara only asked for the same at the end of the day.

“Benji and I have been dating for four months, that’s what’s going on,” Billie felt herself shiver at how similar Dara and Dayanara’s features were when angry. “I wanted to tell you right away, talk to you face to face, but between both being busy and all...well, I expected to tell you after dinner today. Thought he was going to start the conversation since I got stuck at work, but it seems he didn’t.”

The tension in the living room was heavier than how it was at the Montgomery’s mansion, Billie starting to feel a soft static tickling her skin as if it was some kind of warning that everything could go to shit from one second to another.

Dara wasn’t going to explode as her family thought, right?

That was what Carla told her in the kitchen, the motive behind why they all had been hiding all of that from her. Carla told her that Dara would get angry and messy upon knowing that her ex was dating her little sister, but Billie had stepped forward to counter that, tell her...mother-in-law that Dara was pretty down on Earth and calm upon facing any kind of issue, always working her way through it with a control that even her wished to have.

Darziel looked between his older sisters, worried sick, while Deirdre and Diana looked to each other first and then to both Dayanara and Dara, as if they were going to get into a fight or something. Dayanara stood where she was, like an immovable force, but Dara…

...Billie never saw Dara so defenceless.

However, that defencelessness went away the moment Dara smiled brightly at her little sister, throwing off everyone in the room with the force of an earthquake.

“That’s...God, Daya!” Dara laughed and walked towards her little sister, who noticed right away how she was limping heavier and met her halfway, getting hugged in the process. “I’m so happy for you two! Now it makes sense that he’s here,” Dara flickered her fingers towards Benjamin. “It was my fault for not coming home earlier so we could talk, don’t worry,” then she looked at her mother before taking her cane, which was resting against the table, before lacing her fingers with Dayanara’s. “Let’s get you some food and you can tell me some details, if it’s okay with you.”

Annie, what are you doing? Billie wanted to scream that on top of her lungs, confused as she was, while the rest of the house seemed to start breathing at ease upon seeing such reaction from her. Bruno did seem to think the same as her, but there was something in his eyes that told Billie this kind of reaction wasn’t a one time thing.

“It...is,” Dayanara was getting back from the shock, nodding and starting to walk along Dara towards the kitchen. “We can always talk more over breakfast.”

“Of course, of course,” Dara chuckled and leant to kiss her sister’s temple with love. “Gossip over pancakes, best gossip, right?”

Billie didn’t care how Jeziel seemed to stop Benjamin from following them, didn’t care that the rest went back to their things, didn’t care when Bruno led her towards the couch so they could sit together and monopolize it.

But she did care about how Dara had gone, somehow, where Billie was still both too afraid and too confused to follow her.

...

When a nausea wave hit her once again, making her empty whatever was left at that point in her stomach, Dara thanked to her five-minutes-past self to have opened the shower to make the most background noise possible.

It wasn’t weird at all that someone got showered at the wee hours of the night in the house at summer, so she saved her own ass with that.

For sure heat didn’t help at all, she thought as she put a hand over her sweaty forehead, waiting in case she threw up again. Not that there was something else left but bile, but who knew what her body was going to decide. She laughed to herself, thinking in how in other scenery that could make her go bananas and think she was pregnant or something, instead of just having such anxiety attack like the one she was having in that very same moment.

God, sometimes her mind went to some weird places in those situations.

Drenched in sweat as she was, she made a quick work by flossing the toilet and get in the shower after peeling off her pajamas, taking advantage that it was already turned on. Cold water made her feel better, settling little by little the hole her anxiety was craving in her stomach. With tears pushing for freedom in her eyes, Dara tried to think about anything else to calm her racing mind. Like how everyone had decided stay at the house, how funny it looked the way Deirdre and Diana managed to both get the sofa-bed and their husbands took the cold hard floor by their side. Darziel, Gemma and Eva slept in Darziel’s room, the girls taking the bed while he threw some pillows to the floor and built a nest-like bed for him. Dayanara and Benjamin went to Daya’s room and Dara’s mind made a double spin to avoid thinking more about that.

She was glad Billie and her got the tiny guest room-made-office for themselves.

Wrapping her hair in a towel and drying herself enough to get back in her clothes, Dara made her new task be brush her teeth the best she could. She had rinsed her mouth several times before going down to the kitchen to get some water, her throat still burning, but the stupid bad taste didn’t seem to go away. Dara went through the fridge to get some juice instead, and when she found one she actually didn’t like much - she wasn’t risking her favourites to get ruined because of this - she sat there with the window open, drinking right from the bottle while getting some fresh air to clear her head.

In her head everything seem to go really fast, almost disorganized, but whoever watched her from the outside could clearly see how slow and careful she was moving.

She was the best at pretending everything was fine, to hold it in until she was alone to let it all flow, but having a full house didn’t help her at all. And of course this wasn’t some stupid argument between her siblings or with her mother, so it only got worse from then on. Dara wasn’t having an anxiety attack because it overwhelmed her the news per se, but because she was reliving all the memories from her time by Benjamin so hard that made her want to slap some sense into Dayanara, tell her to break up with him and find her someone in Los Angeles, someone probably better under her own point of view…

...but what was the point, after all.

Nothing Dara could say would make her sister change her opinion and she didn’t want to influence her in anyway possible, because her own experience didn’t have to be her sister’s right?

Ten years had passed, ten fucking years! Whatever she knew about Benjamin was literally thrown away into the garbage can because she didn’t know that man anymore, how he was now, how he acted now, his aspirations, whatever.

She only knew the ghost of what he was once...and it was the other way around as well.

The way he talked about Billie didn’t help him at all, the rejection was immediate as if he had slapped instead of throwing around some stupid words. If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought she was having a fling with you or something. Dara had to close her eyes because the nausea was about to hit her again, that or an unstoppable flood of tears. It felt wrong hearing that, as if Dara herself was nothing but a game for someone like Billie. How could he even dare to tell her that when he didn’t have the balls to tell her that he was dating Dayanara? He didn’t know her at all, for God’s sake!

So fucking horrible, wasn’t it?

Dara’s eyes wandered around the kitchen, trying to tone down the awful feeling in her chest by focusing in the kitchen of her childhood. All she could see was a time that she wasn’t happy...and she wasn’t thinking about being five to ten and running around with the laugh of her grandparents as music, she was thinking of her teens, her early twenties and how one day she packed all she had in the middle of the night, took her shitty ass car - that would get wrecked eight years later in the accident - and drove all the way to Los Angeles to take a wild chance on life.

A leap of faith that made her feel she still had something to do in life.

Her eyes finally landed in the only light bright enough to make a difference in the somewhat dark kitchen aside the fridge one and Dara’s stomach churned. They will always have landline, till the end of times, she thought while hobbling to take the wireless phone. Navigating through the agenda, Dara felt immediately guilty about what she was about to do but she needed to talk with someone that wasn’t in the mess at all.

Or that she hoped.

She knew well, deep inside, that she had had to wake up Billie for that but she didn’t have the heart to do so when her partner managed to get a hold of a night of sleep. Even more when it took several glasses of rum to take her down completely. Dara didn’t want to think about the hangover her father, Billie and Berto would have upon waking up, her own stomach hurting even more for them. So her thumb pressed lightly the button to select the number in the agenda, letting herself to think once again if it was the right choice overall.

Dara, while pressing the phone against her ear and sitting back in the chair, made a mental note to live a fifty dollars bill in her mother’s purse later in the morning.

“¿Abuelo?” the sleepy and heavy accented voice of a woman sounded in the other side of the line. “Ah...no.” was the only thing Dara managed to croak in response and the woman sighed heavily, whoever was by her side grumbling something in their sleep. “¿Tata Carla? ¿Qué lo que pasó? Incluso para usted es temprano.” the woman seemed to start functioning and Dara choked on an incoming sob because she didn’t want to overworry her. “It’s me, Dara, sorry for waking you up so early,” that seemed to restart the woman, whose voice was pure confusion now. “Dara? What are you doing calling me from your parents’? What are you doing even there?” sometimes Dara forgot that her cousin was a bit out of touch of everything, so it wasn’t something new to see that she didn’t read the family group chat. “I’m on vacation here...but I was calling you because…” Dara felt the uncomfortable warmth of tears in her cheeks and she couldn’t help but sniff a bit to hold another sob, even when her voice broke. “I don’t know Dani, I needed someone to talk with I guess,” Dara pressed her free hand, which was shaking, against her own chest. “But if I’m bothering you I can call later, I know it’s stupid, you should probably go back to sleep...You must be tired from work and all, I’m so-” Being shushed by Danielle wasn’t harsh, but it was what Dara needed to start crying a bit harder. “You won’t ever be a bother, not even if you tried, so don’t apologize. Just let me get down to the kitchen to not wake Bastien, okay? Take some deep breaths, mon mimi.”

Dara only managed to whisper an ‘okay’ while pressing her wrist to her eyes, trying to stop her about to be runny nose to do as she was told. She tried to focus on her breathing, but her throat still itched and hurt, so imagine the mess. Muffling her coughs against her forearm, Dara instead tried to focus in whatever sound Danielle was making in the other side of the line while her tears ran freely down her cheeks.

She was also repeating herself there, because ten years had passed too since before leaving her parents’ house forever she called her oldest cousin to get some sort of support. Twenty-two to twenty-nine, thirty-two to thirty-nine, the only thing that had changed was that her cousin didn’t have a two years old baby anymore but a twelve years old girl that probably didn’t remember Dara that well and that Danielle’s beautiful black mane was getting too many white hairs too soon.

“Okay, I’m here,” Danielle’s voice was gentle and warm. “You want to tell me before, after or in between the crying?”

Dara decided the last option because, as always, it was the best to get as much as she could out of her chest.

…

Billie didn’t know how she got downstairs alive, but she did it somehow without breaking her neck.

Maybe it wasn’t that good of idea getting hammered with her father-in-law and brother-in-law last night, probably not her best performance, but what was done, done was. Rubbing her eyes a bit and not getting her hand smudged with make-up - Dara probably removed it when she was asleep or she convinced her drunk ass to do it somehow - was a good start, but overhearing the cheery voices coming from the television gave her headache an uncomfortable push.

How late did she wake up? Not that they had much to do, anyway, but oversleeping was hard in her in-law’s house. Her eyes went to the clock over the kitchen door, the bright red numbers telling her right away that it was midday. That sobered her up a bit, but what actually made her react was realizing the living room wasn’t that illuminated.

The curtains were almost closed except for a crack, enough to cast light over where Bruno was reading the newspaper. Her eyes then went to the television, some cartoon movie playing for Ezra, Eduardo and Evan, who were behaving themselves pretty well for being what probably was the hour when their energy should be at its peak, and then Billie discovered why they were so quiet aside of trying not to bother their great-grandfather morning reading.

Dara was there in the couch with them, long as she was, and the boys were sitting there too in a way that Billie didn’t know how could any of the four of them could be comfortable, except for maybe Eduardo that was lying over Dara, with his head in her chest. Evan and Ezra were sitting in between her legs, their tiny ones draped over Dara’s right leg as if it was some kind of a leg-rest or something. The funniest part was that Dara was heavy asleep, making Billie to think if maybe the heat didn’t let her sleep last night and was making up for it now.

That or maybe the stress from yesterday hit her like a truck.

“Morning,” Billie mumbled, raising her hand. The boys waved at her and Bruno looked up from his newspaper, all in silence. “Where’s everyone?”

“Jeziel and Berto in the kitchen, trying to get breakfast before my daughter comes from getting groceries with Deirdre, Diana and Eva,” explained Bruno without raising his voice much. “Abe, Daya and motor-kid to work, papito God knows where with Gemita.”

“Oh, okay,” Billie got closer to Dara and she leant with care to kiss her forehead and cheek with love, only getting a soft comfortable hum in response and making Billie lick her lips a bit, refraining herself to kiss her in the lips but noticing something along the way, like some kind of saltiness in Dara’s skin that Billie only blamed to sweating too much. “She must be really tired, I didn’t see her sleep so soundly in a while.”

“Must be, dear,” and with that, Bruno got back to his reading, the kids never getting their attention drawn from the film. “Go get some pancakes before they butchered them all, Anita made them.”

She obeyed without much thought, her brain still fuzzy with the hangover, but when she sat with coffee and the last two pancakes in the tray by the men in the kitchen table everything felt a bit more homier. It was the first day Dara wasn’t getting breakfast with her, who always was the one saving her from the morning chatter, but she was lucky enough to share breakfast with the other two hangover people in the house...so she got some quiet time sprinkled with some ‘pass me this’ or ‘pass me that’.

Nonetheless, the quietness of the morning helped her greatly to finally think about what could she get Dara for their seventh anniversary.

And she really hoped that her gift, along a pretty deserved night only the two of them, could make Dara feel a bit better and take her mind off the whole mess that ensued last night in the very same living room she was sleeping so peacefully in.

#billie dean howard x original character #dara ann lynch #billie dean howard #original character #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #american horror story

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cordoniantrash · 4 years

Text

Once Upon Another Time: Chapter Ten (Part One)

AU: In another time where the brothers Beaumont did not reach Cassandra in time, the waitress turned lady went back to New York to rebuild her old life. After finding an unexpected souvenir, she set off and joined her long lost family. Four years later, a newly divorced King of Cordonia arrives in New York in hopes of reuniting with his beloved. Instead of Cassandra, all he found was a postcard with the word Edgewater written on the back

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Plus a masterlist if you guys are interested. Also in AO3.

People has spoken so a split chapter it is! As usual, huge thanks to @thequeennefertipi, for betaing this really reaallly long chapter. Part Two’s tomorrow!

Anyways, feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Spelling and grammatical errors are mine.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, Pixleberry has that privilege. Title for both the series and the chapter titles, plus the epigraphs are from Sara Bareilles’ discography.

Pairings: Liam x MC

Warning: long post (pretty PG part tbh)

Words: 6219

Chapter Ten: Armor

To all my sisters and all our friends

We have to thank them, please

Strength means blessed with an enemy

In the four years that Cassandra stayed away, her mind had conjured various scenarios where she and the others would meet again. Some of them were happy while others, fed by the anxieties that plagued her before her reunion with Liam, were darker. Sadder. Some were angry and confrontational. But this one seemed to take the cake, so to speak. Reality is stranger than fiction, after all.

She had never imagined them reuniting in a hospital.

Cassandra shivered and wrapped her cardigan tighter around her. At least we have a private room. I don’t think I’d be this comfortable waiting outside. She glanced at Lucas, who had his face pressed against the glass of the vending machine. Not quite understanding what happened, but sensing something had. He had been silent on their ride to the hospital. They did not even have time to stop by the Palace. Not that I’d feel better there. Not after the news we received as soon as we landed.

The door opened, and Cassandra rose from her seat. Her heart seemed to jump to her throat, then returned to where it was supposed to be, as Liam stepped into the room. Hana followed behind him, head down and shoulders slumped. Concern and nervousness wrapped themselves around her like a second layer.

“How is she?” she asked as she crossed the room. Lucas looked up from the vending machine and promptly bounded over to Liam, quickly latching on to his father’s leg. Liam immediately lifted their son in his arms.

“Did you see the doctor, Dad? Are you sick?”

“Not quite, darling,” he answered as Cassandra reached them. “The doctors said she’s stable,” he said to her over Lucas’ shoulder. “They’re monitoring her tonight to make sure everything goes well.”

Cassandra nodded and put a hand on Hana’s arm. Her touch seemed to jolt Hana from a trance. She looked up, eyes looking lost.

“Oh, Hana…” Cassie trailed off as she pulled her best friend into a hug. Hana seemed to shake in her arms as she returned the gesture. Over her shoulder, Cassie shot a concerned look at Liam. He echoed her look, clutching Lucas tighter. Both of them having the same unanswered question.

What happens now?

Cassie stroked Hana’s hair, murmuring soothing words as she did so.

“She’ll be fine, Hana. Kiara’s gonna be fine…”

----

One of Bastien’s agents had found her sprawled face first in her office, in a growing pool of her own blood, the surrounding space trashed. The eye of a destructive storm.

Hana has not seen how her office looked when they found her. She knew there was at least a picture. Liam had carefully hidden it, perhaps wanting to spare her the gruesome sight. But Hana could imagine it anyway. It only made her feel colder.

God, what was the last thing we said to each other? When did we last see each other in person? When was the last time I heard her voice? Will those be the last time? Dear God, don’t let it be the last time…

“… Miss Hana?” a little voice put a stop to her morbid thoughts. She looked up and met Lucas’ earnest eyes. He was extending a pack of little gummy bears in her direction. “Want some?”

“I — “she felt her eyes start to water. Lucas seemed to know what she wanted to say as he gently set the pack on her lap.

“Mommy buys them when we see the doctor. They make me feel better. Do they make you feel better too?”

Hana could not open her mouth without bursting to tears, so she nodded and tried her best to smile at the little boy and his kind gesture.

You really are Cassie’s son, she thought as gratitude swelled within her. I won’t let them hurt you too.

----

The car ride to the hospital was tense, to say the least. Leo had collected Maxwell while Olivia was given the great honour of fetching the great saint Drake from his exile. If that wasn’t bad enough, Leo had them bundled up in the same car while he took another one with his family. Someone out there must really have it against her.

I can’t believe I’m stuck in a car with these two. She scowled into the night. I can’t believe we let a snake get in the nest!

Olivia couldn’t care less about Drake and Maxwell’s colossal misunderstanding. What darkened her mood was the fact that one of theirs had been attacked in their own base. The palace was supposed to be their stronghold. The heart of their operations. I knew something was off. Damn it, I waited too long to strike!

“If you two have nothing to say to each other, I suggest you keep it that way until this hospital visit is over. Zenobia knows I don’t need more problems today.”

Maxwell nodded while a grunt was all Drake said. Are manners really too much to ask? Oh, well.

“Good.”

“Olivia…” Maxwell trailed off as she directed a glare in his direction. The Beaumont lord gulped and raised his hand, showing that he meant no harm. More than I can say over Grumpy here.

She graciously nodded, and he continued, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so.

“Is Cassie gonna be with them in the hospital?”

Olivia saw Drake freeze. Ah. This should be interesting…

She smirked and answered Maxwell’s question with the affirmative, keeping an eye on Drake all the while. The latter tried to affect an air of nonchalance as he listened to their exchange. A little too intent on listening if you ask me… she thought, amused. Then she remembered what he had done when he found out that Maxwell’s been hiding Savannah all this time. Olivia scowled once more.

You nitwits better not fuck this up.

----

Hospital reunions look nothing like their TV counterparts. Not that Drake would know. He doesn’t watch those kinds of shows. But Savannah devoured those when they were younger and Drake had retained patches of those stories in his memories. Like some weird form of osmosis.

They were led to a private room by a silent Bastien. Drake tried not to take it personally when his mentor avoided his gaze. Not that it mattered to him at that moment. He was noticing every little thing in the halls. Every sound seemed louder.

How can a person feel numb and hypersensitive all at once?

Maxwell’s question bounced around his head. Cassie’s here. She’s inside the building, probably waiting in a room. She’s here, she’s back, and Drake felt as he did when he walked into the grand ballroom four years ago. Helpless knowing that the girl he might feel something for was head over heels in love with his best friend.

No! No. Don’t go there.

They stopped in front of one of the private rooms. A casual glance down the hallway told him several agents were standing guard. Not that other people would know. They’d been trained to blend in with the crowd.

Bastien moved to open the door, but Olivia stopped him with a gesture. She whirled around and glared at him and Maxwell both.

“Remember what I told you.”

Maxwell bobbed his head, eyes wide. Drake glared at Olivia before grudgingly nodding along.

Olivia spared another moment to glare at them, no doubt willing her words to sink in before nodding. She reached for the door herself.

“Oh, and Drake? Try not to make a bigger fool of yourself.”

There was only one entrance and exit. Well, two if you count the windows that overlooked the capital. The room itself was dotted with some comfortable-looking couches. A vending machine on the far side looked out of place. Must have been a recent addition.

A little boy was standing in front of it. His little face was pressed against the glass, obscuring his features to Drake.

Drake knew there that there would be a little boy with them. So why do I feel like someone just punched my stomach?

Beside him, Maxwell gasped a name that haunted Drake’s thoughts for four years now.

“Cassie!”

A dark-haired woman whirled around. She was short, with dark eyes, a button nose, and a smile that seemed to catapult Drake into the past. She lit up as Maxwell rushed to her. Drake tried not to stare.

“Maxie!”

He looked away before they collided. He found Liam next, looking on at the scene Drake just left, a small smile on his face. It’s a reunion. Why shouldn’t he feel happy?

“Drink it all in.”

He ignored her.

“No words then? No wonder you resort to punches.”

“Oh shut up, Olivia.”

“If the shoe fits…” she shrugged as she walked toward Maxwell and Ca—no—Angeles. He always called her by her last name. I’m not gonna change that now, of all times.

He shook his head, exasperation temporarily replacing the mishmash of emotions that were threatening to pull him under. He saw Olivia stop and raise an eyebrow, no doubt scrutinising Cassandra from head to toe. Maxwell had untangled himself from the hug that he and Cassandra shared and was now sitting next to Hana, murmuring words to her.

“Cassandra.”

“Hey, Olivia.”

“Still in one piece then?”

“Seems like it, yes.”

“Hmm.”

For a moment the two women just looked at each other. Then Cassandra’s lips quirked into a smile.

“It’s good to see you again, Olivia.”

The Duchess smirked.

“You too, Cassandra.”

Drake felt both eyebrows lift in surprise. They’re getting along? Since when?

He caught Liam looking at his direction, an eyebrow raised in question. Drake shrugged and rolled his eyes. Liam shook his head, his smile growing.

I might just get through this meeting.

“Dad, can I get this one?”

Never mind.

The little boy had turned around and Drake found himself looking at Liam’s son for the first time. And stared. I thought the others were exaggerating.

“Of course, darling.” Liam’s voice immediately answered as he went to join his son.

Their exchange caused Cassandra, Olivia and Maxwell to look towards them. Which unfortunately also meant at Drake’s direction.

Cassandra met his eyes. Drake felt himself freeze. She stepped towards him, hesitation clear in her eyes. Are you also thinking about what I said that night?

She offered him a slight smile.

“Hello, Drake.”

“Angeles,” he managed to say.

Her smile widened, amusement replacing hesitation. Drake tried not to drink it in. He was hyperaware that Liam and her –their—son stood a few feet away from him.

“Are you still insisting on my last name?”

Drake shrugged, “Why not?”

She huffed out a laugh, “Never change, Drake.”

But you have. All of you changed while I remained in limbo. While I was left behind.

He shrugged again.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

----

“Now that we’re here, we need a plan.”

“Is this really the time and place, Olivia?” Cassie asked as she kept one eye on the Duchess and another on Lucas. Not that he needed much looking after. Her son was curled up in Liam’s arms, eyelids drooping as he fought off sleep.

“The sooner we make a plan, the better.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree with you,” she glanced at Hana’s silent form. “But taking this day’s events into consideration, wouldn’t it be better if we’re all well-rested before we come up with a plan?”

Olivia opened her mouth to argue, but Liam beat her to the punch.

“She’s got a point, Olivia.”

“Of course, she does,” Olivia muttered. Cassie was close enough to hear, but she doubted the Duchess really bothered to disguise her words. Liam just let it slide, his face still composed and collected. Cassie tried not to take it personally. Emphasis on tried. She might have been a little miffed. Just a bit. But then again, you know how Olivia is…

“Besides,” Liam continued. “Leo hasn’t arrived yet.”

Olivia tensed. It was quick, but Cassie was sure she saw her tense. She narrowed her eyes. Why?

Before she could puzzle it out, the door opened again, and a tall blond man stepped in. Cassie had only met him once, a few hours before the coronation. Leo Rys, Liam’s older brother. Following him was a pretty brunette.

That must be Katie, Cassie thought as she stood up. Beside her, Liam did the same, his movement causing Lucas to open his eyes. Damn it, we were so close! With so many people, it’s gonna take a while for him to be sleepy again.

Liam must have realised that too as he shot her an apologetic look. She narrowed her eyes at him. I’ll deal with you later.

Liam gulped and cleared his throat.

“Cassie, you remember Leo.”

She shot him another look before turning and smiling at Leo.

“Hello coz,” he said as he enveloped her in a bear hug. “And this must be my nephew!”

“I—yeah. Hi,” Cassie sputtered before getting a grip. I’m cousins with Liam’s brother. That’s not weird at all. Right? Right. Don’t make it weird, Cassie…

He ruffled Lucas’ hair, after glancing at her for permission. She nodded, head still trying to wrap around their connection. Her son’s eyes widened before offering his uncle a shy smile.

“Hello.”

“Hi, little guy. I’m your Uncle Leo.”

Lucas’ eyes lit up, “Like my Uncle Charlie?”

Leo chuckled, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“He’s my older brother,” Liam explained to Lucas, who was craning his head to look beyond his newly found uncle. Lucas turned, and a furrow appeared between his eyebrows.

“Do I have an older brother?”

Cassie felt her eyes grow wide as Liam seemed to choke. Leo let out a laugh. Cassie could feel the other’s gaze on her back.

Liam cleared his throat. “I’m afraid not, darling.”

“Why?”

“Erm…”

“We’ll tell you when you’re older, baby,” Cassie quickly interjected. She could feel herself blush. Liam nodded.

“Oh… okay!”

Leo chuckled and opened his arms. Liam carefully set Lucas on his feet before accepting his brother’s hug. Cassie turned to Katie. Who, she noticed, was smiling at their exchange. Cassie wanted to fan her face. Two girls had joined them. Twins. When Liam mentioned his nieces, the possibility of them being twins did not cross Cassie’s mind.

I need to make a good impression…

“Hi — “she began, but Lucas beat her to the punch.

“Hi! My name’s Lucas and I’m four!”

Cassie watched as Leo’s twins (Sabrina and Samantha, Liam had mentioned) greet her son. Katie caught her eye and smiled in welcome. I guess that works too…

“Are we all agreed?” Liam asked. People murmured their agreement. Cassie nodded along, careful not to jostle a sleepy Lucas. If she was being honest with herself, seeing Liam take control of a room sent tingles down her spine. Not the time or place, Cassie! Abort mission! Abort!

Liam nodded, satisfied. “We’ll contact each other again in the morning. Anything else? Olivia?” The Duchess nodded before whirling around and glaring at Maxwell and Drake.

“Remember, be discreet.”

Cassie furrowed her eyebrows. I must ask about that… add that to the pile of things I missed. She looked down, concealing her face in the guise of checking whether Lucas finally fell asleep. He blinked back at her, face slack. She hummed and ran her hand through his hair.

“Ready?” Liam asked as he approached her and Lucas. He sat down beside her. “Bastien’s taking us to my townhouse for the night. How is he?”

“He’s nearly asleep…” she whispered. Cassie looked and gave Maxwell a slight wave as he opened the door. He gave her two thumbs up. Cassie resisted the urge to cry. I missed them so much…

“Can we take Hana with us? I’m not sure she should be alone right now.”

Liam nodded and glanced at a still silent Hana. “Of course, Cassie.”

She saw Katie lead the girls out of the room, but not after sharing a long look with Leo. Cassie had vague memories of her mother giving her father a similar look on whenever they argued. Her eyebrows furrowed as she felt her heart clench. She felt unsettled. She saw Leo approach them.

“Can we go now?” she whispered as she turned to Liam.

“Liam, we need to talk,” Leo whispered. He met Cassie’s eye and tried to give her a reassuring grin. “I’ll be quick.”

Liam glanced at her, a question in his eyes. Cassandra nodded her head slowly, worry starting to make her fingers and toes tingle. She caught Liam’s sleeve as he rose to his feet. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. Cassie can’t quite put to words the sense of foreboding she was feeling.

“Just—you’ll be quick, right?” knowing how odd that sounded, she glanced down at Lucas. “I’d like to put him to bed soon.”

Liam gently squeezed her hand.

“I will.”

----

Maxwell finally gathered enough nerve to talk to Drake again as they stepped out of the room. Time to fix one of my screw-ups. His many – many—screw-ups. He slowed his steps and tried to sound assertive. Like Bertrand. I can be responsible!

“Can we talk?”

He might as well have asked the air.

“Drake—“

The other man walked ahead, faster this time. Maxwell fastened his pace. He called after Drake, dimly aware of the number of heads that turned as he did so. Cringing, he nearly jogged to catch up.

“Aw c’mon! You can’t ignore me forever!”

Maxwell reached out and grabbed Drake’s arm. The other man shrugged him off.

Something in Maxwell snapped.

“Drake Walker!”

Wonder of wonders, Drake stopped.

Bad news is, most of the people in the corridor did too.

So did Olivia. Scowling, she stalked towards them and grabbed both of their arms.

“What did I just say?” she hissed as she steered them towards the emergency exit. “I swear, neither of you know the word discreet.”

“I wasn’t — “Maxwell tried to protest. Olivia’s frown stopped his words from their tracts.

She nearly kicked open the door that leads to the emergency staircase, then all but pushed them inside. “If you two insist on being bull-headed idiots, get out and spare the rest of us.”

“But — “This time, it was Drake who voiced an objection.

“No buts!” she snapped as she closed the door. She fixed them with a glare.

“Talk. Now.”

It took Maxwell a second to understand what she was saying. In the end, all he managed was an intelligible “Wuuuh?”

Olivia rolled her eyes, “We will accomplish nothing with this weird lovers’ spat you two got going on. So get over yourselves and just kiss and make-up.”

She whirled around and went back into the hallway before Maxwell could blink.

“So…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure. Now what?

Drake crossed his arms and scowled, but he did not turn around and ignore Maxwell. Which is a good start! Maxwell’s gonna see it as a good start. Persistent optimism always works. Right?

“What.”

“Look, Drake… I know you’re mad at me—“

“Try furious.”

“Right. That. But, please believe me when I say I really just wanted to help. Savannah asked me not to tell anyone else, including you. Believe me, I’ve wanted to tell you since the beginning but I promised her and well…” he trailed off, unsure how to continue. I’m not doing a good job explaining, am I? God, what would Bertrand do?

Drake sighed. A moment passed. And another one. Maxwell was starting to feel sweat beading his forehead.

“I know that. It’s just—it’s been six years since she disappeared…”

Maxwell resisted the urge to reply. But it was Savannah’s choice, Drake… he’s not sure how his friend (frenemy?) would take that.

Drake sighed again. Maxwell gulped. One last try, then…

“Look, I know this isn’t the time… but can we agree to be civil for a bit? Until this whole thing blows over?”

Drake narrowed his eyes, “What’s the catch?”

Maxwell could feel his own eyes narrow in turn. “Bartie’s my nephew too, you know.”

Drake’s eyes widened, and his shoulders seemed to fall. “Right. You, uh—you can always visit them,” he mumbled as he looked at the ground for a moment. Maxwell knew Drake well enough to know that the older man was having an internal debate.

After goodness knows how long, the other man nodded as if he had finally convinced himself. Maxwell let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Drake.”

Drake grunted.

“Are we done here?”

Maxwell tried on a smile. Just take what you can get…’Cause that’s all you’re ever good for.

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

----

The car ride to the townhouse was silent. He could feel Cassie’s gaze on him the entire time. Liam did not need to look up to see the concern in her eyes. He could hardly find words to make sense of the whirling thoughts in his head, let alone words of reassurance for her. Liam wanted to reassure her, to show her that coming back here, with their son no less, wasn’t a terrible idea.

Liam just can’t seem to muster the words. He looked at their sleeping son, cradled in his arms. Cassie had enough on her plate, what with looking after Hana and the attack. Not to mention the notion of coming back here. The least he could do was carry their son to bed. Must I always fail everyone I love? Lucas muttered in his sleep, and Liam tightened his arm around the little boy. Will I fail you too?

As though sensing his thoughts, Cassie squeezed his hand. He looked at their entwined fingers. She had held his hand since getting in the car. Her warmth and presence the only thing tethering him to the present. The only thing preventing him from spiralling. He returned the squeeze and ran his thumb over her knuckle. My lighthouse and anchor both. I’m so sorry for failing you and our son. If I hadn’t—

The car came to a stop. Liam looked out the window. It was raining. I should have brought an umbrella, he thought absently. Now I have nothing to keep the two of you dry. Add that to the growing pile of my failings.

“Liam?” her voice drew him out of his thoughts. He turned his head and kissed her hand. I’ll be fine. I have to be.

The door opened and Bastien was suddenly there with umbrellas and Liam had to let go of Cassie’s hand and then it was a quick walk to the front door, while agents were shielded them from view. He felt her hand on the crook of his elbow. Still guiding him when he was supposed to guide her now.

Liam hardly felt the droplets that landed on him. At the eye of the storm that was raging in his mind, only one thought repeated itself.

I must keep my family safe.

He remembered the last time he saw his mother. Remembered how tightly she held him before kissing his forehead and walking towards the ballroom. Remembered the last smile she gave him. It did not feel like a goodbye. But things hardly do.

And I married his daughter. Did my father know what Godfrey had done when he forced me to marry Madeleine?

Liam could feel a headache forming. The monster who killed my mother has been under my nose all along… and now Leo thinks there’s more to this than what meets the eye. Must we pay for the sins you’ve done, Father? Must my son pay for something he had no hand in doing? Will my nieces? Is this the legacy you’ve worked so hard to save?

“Liam?”

He whirled around. Cassie standing at the threshold of his room, hair damp and already in her pyjamas.

“I thought you might like something hot to drink.”

“I—thank you, Cassie, but — “I can’t put you and Lucas through more danger…

“It’s hot chocolate,” she continued in a rush. She gave him a small, hesitant smile. “I know you don’t like the tea they have in the kitchen.”

“Oh, Cassie… you didn’t have to.”

She shrugged as she set the mugs on a nearby coffee table. “I know, but I wanted to.”

She came to a stop in front of him, dark eyes studying him. Liam resisted the urge to look away. She took hold of his hands, tugging him closer to her. Liam hesitated for a second before placing his hands on her hips. He could feel his shoulders loosening, the tension leaving his body. He never broke their gaze.

“C’mere love,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. Liam held her tight. He closed his eyes.

“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it,” she murmured in his ear. Liam believed her. Despite everything that happened. The attack, his father’s secrets and schemes and the revelation that rocked his world, he believed her. He wanted to believe her. But Liam knows he failed her. Failed them both.

“I’m so sorry, Cassie.” he breathed out.

She pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes again, “Whatever for?”

“All this. I thought it would be safe. I thought you’ll both be safe. I’ve failed you and Lucas.”

“Liam… you couldn’t have known this would happen.” She looped her arms around his neck, bringing their faces closer until their foreheads touched, “and you haven’t failed anyone, especially Lucas and me.”

“I just—“

“No, Liam.”

“But—“

“You haven’t,” she ran her thumb over his cheek. “I don’t think you have it in you.”

Liam sighed.

“Promise me you won’t keep beating yourself up over this?”

“Cassie—“

“Please?”

His forehead furrowed, trying to reconcile the dwindling thoughts swirling in his head and Cassie’s words, her warmth and the faith shining in her eyes.

“I — “he gulped. “I promise.”

Cassie beamed at him, relief in her eyes along with something that made Liam’s heart stutter.

“Good,” she breathed as she closed the gap between them.

Their drinks had turned cold by the time they dragged themselves from the bed.

----

St. Germain’s Medical Centre, the next day

She still hasn’t woken up yet. Hana stared at the clock near the window, tracking how the sweep hand glides away, showing her the seconds that was ticking by.

The night before had been a blur, with vague impressions that clued her in on what was happening. Cassie and Liam had ensured her comfort while Maxwell kept checking in on her, in person then by hourly messages. Hakim and Joelle had sent her messages, their words bringing her more comfort than anything her mother ever said. Even Rashad had wished Kiara a speedy recovery and offered to postpone their farce of a wedding or putting a stop to it altogether. Sitting next to Kiara’s bed, Hana was seriously considering his offer.

She was more than grateful for them, but she can’t seem to find words to tell them that. I’ll have to show them sometime. She looked at Kiara’s sleeping face, we’ll show them, won’t we? Please say yes…

Please wake up.

The doctors had stitched her back up, but her assailants had hit her hard at the back of her head. It didn’t help that she also fell to the floor. Hana sighed. I fear I’ve run out of tears. She certainly had the headache to prove it.

Her phone beeped with another message. A glance told her it was her mother again. No doubt pestering her about wedding details… again.

Her phone rang with an incoming phone call.

Hana pressed her palms to her face, as though the act of covering them might also block her mother’s incessant demands.

Raised voices from outside the room caused her to look up. Panic gripped her. Hana quickly got up and stood in front of the door, shielding Kiara’s unconscious form as best as she can.

The door opened and Hana had just enough time to see an agent’s harried face before the door snapped shut again. Hana stared, her heart still beating hard in her chest. What she had thought to be another attack was actually her own mother. Is this any different though?

“Hana,” Lorelai snapped, bracelets clanking together as she whirled around to face Hana. “Have you lost your senses? You were supposed to be with me today, not play-acting as some glorified nursemaid!” She stalked towards where Hana stood. “Do you have any idea the embarrassment that you’ve caused? You’re coming with me right now. Goodness, just when I thought you were over this—“

“Get out, Mother.” Hana interrupted, her voice soft.

“… you go ahead and—what did you just say?”

“I said… get out.” Hana said through clenched teeth. The numbness that settled under her skin when she heard what happened to Kiara gave way to rage.

“Now, Hana — “Lorelai began in a tone Hana knew all too well. It was supposed to be placating, a tone meant to soothe her into compliance.

“No!” Hana snapped, her voice rising. “No more! I’m done with this – with you!” A part of her was horrified with the words that flew out of her mouth while the rest of her was just all raw nerve and anger; years’ worth of pain and anger spilling out in a rush. “I’m done with being your puppet Mother and I say no more!”

Lorelai’s shock was quickly replaced by anger. She glared at Hana.

“You dare—“

“Yes, I dare!” Hana declared, back straight and gaze fixed on her mother. “I’m so sick and tired of being your perfect little doll. I’m tired of dancing to whatever tune you want me to. For once in my life, I’m making a choice for me. Not for you, not for Father, not for your own ambitions. I’m choosing me and the people that actually love me for me and damn the consequences. The wedding’s off and you can disown me for all I care. Now get out!”

Hana paused, breathing hard and feeling lighter than she had in years.

Lorelai gazed at her, mouth agape and gaze disbelieving. The door opened, and an agent stepped in. Hana took a deep breath and whirled around to reclaim her seat next to Kiara’s bed.

“Please escort my mother out of the premises, Agent Mara. We’re done here.”

----

They left the capital in the early morning hours, the horizon still dark. By the time they reached their destination, the sun had peaked its rays over the world. It was Liam who gently shook Cassandra awake as the first rays illuminated what looked like a castle taken straight out of a fairy-tale.

“Welcome to Valtoria, Cassie.”

Edgewater two days earlier

“We’ve decided to visit Cordonia for a bit.”

“That’s… that’s wonderful news, Cassie!” Hana said, her smile suddenly strained. Cassie furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Liam.

“Is there something wrong?” Cassie asked carefully. I know this is all sudden, she thought, but a brief visit hurt no one, right?

“Nothing!” Hana said, quickly regaining her composure. Cassie shot her a questioning look. Hana sighed before continuing. “It’s just — the media and the campaign…” she trailed off.

“We’ve thought about that, Hana. That’s part of the reason we asked you to come here,” Liam interjected as he leaned forward in his seat. “We plan on being discreet. Besides, while Cassie and Lucas are more than welcome to stay at the Palace, we’ll be staying at one of the crown’s estates instead.”

Intrigued, Hana raised her eyebrows, “And where would that be, Your Majesty?”

Liam smiled and laced his hand with Cassandra.

“I was thinking… Valtoria’s nice this time of year.”

Lucas had been smitten as soon as they arrived. He had run towards the short bridge that led to the gigantic oak double doors.

“It’s a castle, Mommy!”

Cassie smiled indulgently at the four-year-old.

“Seems like it, baby.”

“Like in the stories! Right, Dad?”

Liam chuckled at her side, “Yes, darling.”

“It’s pretty! There’s a lake too! Like at Grandma’s!”

Cassie felt her smile grow wider, but a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Several staff members had assembled at the front of the door.

“Uh, Liam?”

“Yes, dear?”

She took his arm and nodded towards the people assembled at the front of the estate. Manor? Castle?

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m afraid sightseeing might take a backseat for today.”

“Wait… we’re really going in there?”

Liam turned to her, his eyebrows drawn.

“… Yes?”

“Really?” Cassie repeated, bewildered.

“Don’t you like it?” She would have thought he was joking if confusion wasn’t shining from his eyes.

“What? No! I mean—I like it. It’s beautiful, Liam. But I thought—“realisation dawned on her. “This is Valtoria?”

“Uh, yes?”

“I thought – you said manor!” Cassie sputtered. Liam looked at her, eyes wide.

“It is?”

“That’s a castle, Liam!”

“Mommy? Dad?”

Both of their head turned towards Lucas. The little boy was bouncing with excitement, unaware of their conversation. He pointed towards the lake.

“Fishes!”

Cassie glanced at Liam, only to find him already looking at her. She exhaled. Before she could answer, another car pulled to a stop next to theirs. Olivia and Leo stepped out, with an older woman following in their wake.

Cassie looked at Liam.

“Later?”

Liam nodded.

“Later.”

The inside of the castle was more opulent than the outside. Gold and red seemed to dominate the space. Cassandra tried her best not to gape. The side glances that Olivia shot her told her it didn’t work. Cassie ignored those looks. Looking around, she seemed to be the only one surprised at the sheer grandeur of their surroundings.

Leo and the older woman looked to be in the midst of an intense conversation. Liam held her hand, but he frequently glanced at them, curious and wary. She squeezed his hand to get his attention.

“Are we taking Lucas with us to the meeting?”

“There’s a playroom set up for Lucas,” Liam murmured next to her as they walked through one of the corridors. “It’s right next to the room we will use for this meeting, so we’ll be able to keep an eye on him.”

Cassie nodded, relieved to tick that worry off her mind.

“Briar’s coming with Auntie tonight, so there’s someone we know that can look after him,” she murmured as they turned a corner. They both came to a stop when Lucas, who was trailing after them, gasped. They both whirled around.

“Puppy!”

“Yeah!” Maxwell agreed as he struggled to carry a wriggling little corgi. Olivia gave an audible groan.

“Where – “Cassie began before Maxwell rushed to answer.

“I found him last night! He was alone, and he looked so sad…” he trailed off as the puppy leapt from his arms, landing right in front of Lucas. The puppy let out a little huff and gave their son a doggy smile. Her son gasped, eyes wide and shining. He whirled around and looked at her, his own puppy dog eyes coming to play.

“Mommy! Can we keep him?”

“Is this really the time— “Olivia’s mutter stopped as she saw the glare Cassie sent her way. She shrugged, the closest thing Cassie would get to an apology. Cassandra resisted the urge to roll her eyes, before turning her attention back to Lucas.

“Baby—“

“Dad? Can we?” Lucas pouted as he turned to Liam.

“Um…” Liam shot her a panicked glance.

“Aw, c’mon Cassie!” Maxwell piped up behind Lucas.

Cassandra sighed, “We need to have him checked by the vet first—“

“I can do it!” Maxwell volunteered before Cassie could finish the sentence.

“Is this your way of avoiding the meeting, Maxwell?” Olivia asked, arms crossed and an eyebrow arched.

“… No?”

Cassie sighed again, a headache forming between her temples. She glanced at Liam.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with him having a pet.”

“You’re only saying that ‘coz you like dogs,” she told him. Liam smiled and nodded his head to where Lucas and the puppy were already playing. Cassie resisted the urge to aw at the sight.

“Oh, what the hell—fine! But,” she whirled at Maxwell. “You’ll take him to the vet first.”

Maxwell nodded, a grin already on his face.

“Thank you, Mommy!” Lucas exclaimed as he hugged her legs.

“As touching as this is,” Olivia interjected dryly, “shall we continue with what we actually came here for?”

“Right,” Liam nodded as he straightened up. He gestured towards an open doorway. Leo and the older woman were already inside.

“After you.”

----

Cordonia International Airport, night-time

The air was cool, and stars were appearing in the summer sky as Clara stepped onto the tarmac. There was a black-tinted car waiting for them.

“Is this really necessary?” Briar muttered beside her. “We’re supposed to be inconspicuous.”

Clara chuckled and shrugged, “It’s simply politics, old friend.”

Briar pursed her lips.

“Besides,” Clara added, “the extra security doesn’t hurt.”

“Things must be dire then.”

“With what we’ve read in the journal, this is just expected.”

Briar sighed. “Poor Lucas.”

Clara turned and looked at her oldest friend. Determination straightening her spine.

“No. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

You can read Part Two here!

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#series: once upon another time #emgee tries to write #playchoices #choices: stories you play #liam x mc #king liam x mc #the royal romance #trr #trh #trr and d&d crossover #long post

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salamanderskin · 4 years

Text

And one time he did

The final part of Five times Caleb didn’t let the Mighty Nein take care of him when he was sick… (part 5) This got away with me somewhat, so here’s 10k of feverish Caleb and concerned Caduceus.

Whole thing is posted here for easier navigation if you like.

Of all the times to get sick, for once his timing is not too bad. The Mighty Nein are between jobs and have a few days to spend in the Xorhaus. Caleb Widogast had been planning to spend them in the library catching up on his studies.

It seems that the moment he opens the book and summons Frumpkin onto his lap as a reading companion, the scraping soreness that has been in the back of his throat for days becomes a lancing pain every time he swallows, forcing him to cough and clear it nearly constantly. His nose is quickly too stuffed for him to breathe through. He swears to himself then feels a rush of gratitude that this did not happen while they were on the road. He isn’t sure he could accurately throw a fireball in this state, let alone anything more complex.

Despite the fire he can’t seem to get warm. A blanket over his lap helps a little and his cat helps a lot but shivers still trickle down his limbs with increasing frequency. He is going to have to get a hot drink or something for his throat, or he’ll never be able to concentrate on this transcription.

He intends it to be a very short interruption, to get back to his reading chair and the warmth of the fire as soon as possible. Upon standing, he realises he is dizzier than he had thought. Descending the stairs to the kitchen requires keeping his hand firmly on the wooden banister.

The kitchen is mercifully quiet and empty apart from a familiar tall figure with a shock of bright pink hair, occupied with peeling and coring apples. The room is as still as a painting. Low light from the enchanted baubles overhead blesses the fruit with a sheen like precious stones.

Caleb feels a swell of emotion at the scene. It’s the little things; Beau and Fjord’s boots kicked off by the door, a novel open face-down on the table, a half finished glass of tea. The house is warm and lived-in and safe. It is home. He’d never thought he’d live somewhere like this again. Some feeling rises in his throat and he swallows against it.

That slight sound is enough to prompt Caduceus to turn. The same light illuminates him from behind, an improbable furry angel.

“Mr Caleb?”

It seems Caduceus doesn’t need to touch Caleb to gauge the man’s fever. The moment he walks into the kitchen, the firbolg looks up and eyes him with considerable concern.

“Oh my, that’s not good at all.” He says, by way of greeting.

“Hm?” Caleb manages. “Oh, I just came to get a glass of water.” As if on cue, he starts coughing again. Even to him it sounds harsh and unpleasant.

“No, no, come here.” Caduceus approaches and leans down to look Caleb over carefully.

“You’re really very warm. I think you have a temperature.” He says gently. “You should be resting.”

“Perhaps a little, but I have a lot to do today, I am perfectly ok to keep working on my spells.”

That is all very well but he finds the world swimming at the edges; the firbolg blurs to a rose-edged smudge until Caleb can scrub a hand over his eyes. He manages to find the edge of the table with an outstretched hand and lever himself onto a chair. It feels good to sit down. The short walk downstairs has made his legs and back ache. He looks up guiltily to see Caduceus standing over him, eyebrows raised.

“Caleb,” those pink sapphire eyes are turned on him with their full force of kind persuasion. “I know what’s normal for humans and I know you can’t be comfortable with your temperature so high. Let me give you a spell and I’ll make you some tea.”

Actually that does sound like a good idea. He nods in surrender. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Caduceus rests one of his hands on Caleb’s shoulder and casts healing word. Caleb knows that spell doesn’t require contact, but finds himself grateful for it nonetheless.

“Spells are not actually too good for common illnesses.” The firbolg says apologetically. Caleb knows that too. “Give it a second to kick in.”

So he sits and waits while his friend boils the kettle and selects pinches of ingredients from the wall of dark jars. He endeavours to wait without making a fuss, but the spell seems to have made the congestion in his nose shift in a way that sets him sneezing. With his handkerchief firmly over his nose and mouth he manages to smother the sound to a strangled “–ngkt!” The price of the quiet is a bolt of pain through his throat.

“Ah –ngkt!” And again.

“Bless you.” Not too quiet to escape Caduceus’ notice, then.

He nods his thanks and doubles immediately with another sneeze.

“CHssh-ue!” Neither quiet nor polite, but it doesn’t hurt quite as much.

“Bless you!” Caduceus calls over his shoulder. “So, some upper respiratory symptoms with the fever, yes? Let me see what I can find.” He adds a sliver of gnarly-looking root to the teapot and swirls it thoughtfully.

“Now, will you come and drink it with me? I could use some company.”

Caleb swallows. He should be reading, he should be working on that new spell, he shouldn’t be wasting everyone’s time, he should- Who is he kidding? His vision is too blurry to read and he is shivering harder now.

“Ja. Yes. That would be nice.”

He allows himself to be led to Caduceus’ rooftop dwelling.

It is warmer here, magically heated in the same way as his native Cemetery. The air has a pleasant, earthy smell and the captured sunlight from emanating from enchanted globes is easier on his eyes than the bright lamps in his library.Caduceus’ huge oak tree stands proud, it’s roots curving into the base of the tower like possessive fingers, creating inviting nooks and crannies perfect for resting. The firbolg leads him to one where there are cushions and a low table to place the tea set. The angle of the trunk invites him to slump against it.

He sneezes again, finishes with a groan. “Ghh. When is this going to stop?”

“When you’ve had enough rest to let your body heal.” Caduceus says sagely.

It isn’t what Caleb wants to hear. The wizard realises he is still hoping his companion might have some magic up his sleeve to just get this over with, so he can get back to his usual routine. For him to just take all the pain away. It’s a childish urge, but a powerful one.

He settles for sipping the tea. It’s good; spicy and hot enough that he can feel it going down and radiating warmth into his tight chest. A hint of honey coats his throat, taking the tickle away for now, and he thinks he might be able to breathe through his nose again soon.

Caduceus is smiling at him, head tilted in interest as he holds his own cup.

“S’good.” Caleb tells him, slurry with tiredness.

“I’m glad.” Caduceus says. ”Are you still feeling chilly?”

“Ja.” Caleb murmurs. “Can’t seem to get warm.”

“That I can do something about.” Caduceus smiles. He disappears for a moment into his shack, and returns with an armful of thick blankets. He settles them over Caleb’s lap, where they provide a comforting weight. “Is that better, darling?”

Caleb nods.

“Now, just sit quietly there and drink that. I’m going to do some work around the garden, but you call if you need me, okay?”

Caleb nods. He manages to sit long enough to finish the tea, then lets himself slump until he is laying on the cushions and looking up at the shifting patterns of light through the canopy.

He must have dozed off, because he wakes feeling truly horrible. He hears a familiar, deep voice asking him a question. He cracks his eyes open and the light seems to sear through his skull.

He goes to answer, sneezes thickly against the blankets.

“Wildmother bless you, Caleb.” Caduceus murmurs fondly and reaches to rub the man’s back. His fingers pause and then migrate up to the back of his Caleb’s neck and a frown deepens on his face. “Whoah, hey, your fever’s way up. I think you need to be in bed, hmm?”

“Far.” Caleb despises the whine in his own voice, but his limbs feel like lead and the stairs back to his room are steep.

“My room is right here.”

Caleb’s pupils go big when he realises what his friend is implying.

“I couldn’t possibly-” he tries to say, but his fever-addled tongue can only manage a mush of Zemnian and common that doesn’t make any sense at all.

The Firbolg nods sagely, as though he has made an excellent point, and adds “Yes, I think I’d better pick you up. Just for a moment.”

“Wait- please- oop-”

Caleb’s limbs are bundled from under him. Caduceus cradles him close to his chest with one arm under his knees and the other to keep his head from lolling too painfully. Caleb’s vision lurches at the sudden movement and so does his stomach, and he wonders if he might throw up, or pass out, or both. Maybe Caduceus hears the dragging gasp that provokes, because he stands still and holds him tighter, presses his head into his chest and strokes through his hair for comfort.

“There, easy now. I’ve got you. I think…” he pauses to open the door to his little hut with one hip, “that if you’re feeling badly enough to let yourself be carried, doesn’t that mean you deserve to be carried? Just a little?”

Caleb doesn’t reply, just tries to concentrate on the flood of sensation that is being lifted, being held. He is freezing, he is shivering so hard in Caduceus’ arms that he can hear his own teeth chatter. In response the firbolg holds him a little tighter.

A gentle impact as Caduceus sits down on the bed, and Caleb is shifted from his friend’s grasp onto a firm, low mattress. Compared to the bodyheat of a moment ago, the sheets are cold and unwelcoming, sparking soreness on his over-sensitive skin. He grits his teeth so as not to seem ungrateful but a convulsive chill chases along his limbs all the same.

“Oh, you’re really shivering.” He hears Caduceus say. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He is gathered up again and the blessed warmth is back. He curls into it like Frumpkin finding a spot of sunlight in winter. Caduceus manages to settle himself to sitting, with his human friend curled against his chest and supported with one long arm around his back.

Caleb wants to rest there in Caduceus’ arms, he doesn’t want to move ever again, but his stuffy nose is still so ticklish and the change in position has only made it worse. He needs to turn his head away, needs to do something before he sneezes all over his friend. He squirms weakly, trying to find a handkerchief from his pocket, and whines under his breath when his fingers react with fumbling slowness.

“What is it?” Caduceus’ voice is soft and concerned.

“Wait, I have to-” He gestures helplessly to his running nose then bucks into a sneeze against Caduceus’ chest. It’s wet and painful and deeply embarrassing. He feels blood race up his neck in a chaotic blush and he keeps his eyes closed as if they can pretend that didn’t just happen.

“Oh! Bless you!”

“Sorry- excuse me- CHssh-ue! CHssh-ue! ...m’sorry,” he manages. He doesn’t know if it’s for the mess or for falling ill in the first place.

“Trust me,” Caduceus actually laughs, “I’ve seen worse than a few sneezes. Bless you-” he adds preemptively as Caleb winds up for another. “There, are you done?”

Caleb sniffles and shrugs. “Ja. Gott. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey. It’s okay. It happens. I’d rather have that than blood. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

“S’cold…” Caleb actually pouts a little.

“It won’t be, look-”

Caleb feels a whisper of magic, recognises distantly that Caduceus has used some spell to warm the bedsheets for him. He could have done that himself, should have thought to try it, if he had any spells left in him. So stupid…

It’s much better. This time he allows himself to be bundled over, lets Caduceus pull the blankets up over his shoulders and tuck them in around him. When was the last time someone tucked him in…? It doesn’t bear thinking about, so he doesn’t. He is so, so ready to sleep but Caduceus is nudging him, trying to push something into his hand.

“Hmmf?”

“One more minute, then you can sleep. Blow your nose first, sweetheart, or you’ll regret it later.”

“Nein.” That would involve raising his head and some modicum of effort. Ugh.

“Trust me.” And he does trust Caduceus, so he does so. Then he falls into thick sleep as though a rug has been pulled out from underneath him.

…………………………………………..

Caleb doesn’t sleep for long -One hour thirteen minutes says the part of his brain that never stops counting- and it feels like forever or no time at all. The dreams that came were hot and black and chaotic. He is glad to wake and be out of them.

“Hmmm, let’s have a look at you,” a rumbling murmur from a familiar bass voice. He feels the weight of Caduceus settling next to him on the bed. The Firbolg presses the back of his hand to Caleb’s forehead and nods, his expression sympathetic but not worried. There is a little tickle of magic, possibly some sort of diagnostic spell that Caleb never bothered to learn, and his friend nods.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be fine. Looks like you just have a bad cold.” He sighs fondly and amends this to, “a really bad cold, poor thing. Can you sit up and drink some tea for me?”

Caleb obeys passively, though levering himself up to sitting is an effort that tires him out. It’s hard to drink hot tea when he feels so hot himself. He does so partially because he’s seen the healing powers of Caduceus’ tea first hand and partially because his friend would be incredibly hurt if he turned it down. So he sips, coughs a little, snuffles helplessly through a blocked nose.

He has to put the mug down in a hurry to sneeze hard into the crook of his elbow.

“Bless you, Caleb. Hmm, you managed to get yourself really sick sweetheart. You need to eat more, and sleep more, too.” Caduceus says, reaching to rub his shoulders afterward. “How are you feeling now? Anything I can do?”

“I’m okay.” Caleb manages shakily. “Just hot. And achy.”

“Yeah. I know you’re really warm but I’m not going to cool you too much, you need the fever to burn the virus off, okay? It’ll break soon and you’ll feel so much better.”

Ja. Caleb knows this intellectually, but hearing ir in that deep, soft voice is very reassuring when he feels like his skin is on fire. With a little prompting, he finishes the tea and lies down again.

“That’s it. Try to get back to sleep. That’s what you need right now.” Caduceus encourages.

This time it takes a while. He hears Caduceus leave the shack and can track the little sounds of his working in the garden outside. Caleb feels very close to sleep but instead he lies and lies there with his eyes closed, his thoughts racing unpleasantly. He summons Frumpkin and the cat tries to take his customary position on Caleb’s chest but the weight makes his clogged lungs work too hard. Frumpkin on his lap or his legs is too heavy and hot. Frumpkin not touching him is unbearably lonely. Frumpkin’s purring makes his head ache but the silence is no better. Caleb tosses and turns miserably, bleeding heat into the atmosphere for an hour and a half before sleep finally claims him.

……..

It is hard to judge the time without a sunset, but when Caduceus’ body feels like he has been working for a few hours and his chores are done, he makes his way to the shack to check up on his guest. The fever heat and stuffy air of sickness are tangible as soon as he opens the door. The wizard is sprawled in sleep on the low mattress with his limbs splayed and the blankets kicked off. His cat is as near as he can be without touching. Evidently the chills have passed and his temperature is rising again. It should be due to break soon, if Caduceus is any judge.

The human man is flushed under his freckles. One arm is pillowed under his head and the hand is turned upward but clenched and tense even in sleep. His wrists look impossibly delicate, the tendons in his arms standing out like cords, while the multitude of scars stand out in vivid white. Caduceus is bony himself but he has a layer of fur and lean rangy muscle with it. Caleb just looks like he could use a good meal.

He says, “Hey there Mister Caleb,” to judge how deeply the man is asleep. No answer. Must be pretty deep. That’s good. Still, he mustn't get too cold, no matter how he feels, or his body will just crank his temperature higher, so Caduceus finds the thinnest sheet he has and drapes it over the man.

Caleb does stir at this, trying weakly to push it off.

“Okay, okay, but it’s there if you need it, alright?” He murmurs.

Caleb maybe nods, maybe it’s a twitch as he falls back into whatever dream has his eyes flickering behind their lids.

He’s not in any danger and he is as comfortable as Caduceus can make him, so that will have to do for now.

He leaves the sleeping wizard and pads softly down to the shared space to greet the rest of the Nein.

They are gathered in the kitchen, some eating and others just keeping company. It is so, so nice to come down to them, it’s like having a family.

Jester raises her head and gives him a great big smile. “Caduceuuuuus! Where have you been all day? I found the soup you left though, it was really good!”

“I’m glad.” He tells her, then explains, “Caleb’s not feeling too well, so I’ve been looking after him a little.”

“Oh.” Jester’s eyes go big with worry. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Fjord echoes. The others turn their heads. Nott tenses like she’s ready to spring up the stairs to her boy’s side.

“Oh, he’ll be fine.” Caduceus reassures them. “Just a nasty cold, but he has a fever with it that’s making him pretty uncomfortable. He’s in my bed sleeping it off.”

That news causes an amused clamour when Beau blurts, “and he told you?” at the same time as Jester’s- “he let you-?” and Nott’s outraged, “he didn’t tell me?!”

“Seriously Caduceus,” Jester adds “did you, like, drug him or something? I really need to go see if he’s okay right now.”

“No, no.” It is very unusual for Caduceus to be firm but he is now. He actually raises his voice just a touch and holds up a hand to stop the enthusiastic teifling in her tracks. “What he needs is rest and for you lot not to bother him. If he gets too much attention he’s just gonna feel guilty and try to get up.”

“That’s true, actually.” She sits down in defeat.

Even Nott shrugs in agreement. “If you’re sure it’s just a cold? And you’ll let us know if he needs anything from us?”

Caduceus puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey. You know I will.”

So that’s that.

Caduceus takes the time to eat some of the soup he made earlier and also heats a bowlful to bring up for his patient. He also brings some more tea and a glass of the fruit juice he knows Caleb is fond of. He has to set down the tray to quietly open the door. Even then it rattles loudly, but that doesn’t matter because the wizard is already awake.

……………………………..

His dreams are always awful, but these are worse. He knows he’s dreaming, because nothing makes any sense, but the usual combination of smoke and flames and guilt is heightened by the physical feeling of burning up. He wakes enough to make out the walls of the room wavering as though in a heat haze and falls straight back into a dream where the space gets smaller and smaller. Something is wrapped around him, binding him tight, holding his arms still so that Ikathon can cut them open-

Caleb wakes from falling, gasps as though smacked into the mattress from a great height.

He sits instinctively to make it easier to breathe as he coughs and coughs and coughs. His chest hurts ferociously and he is absolutely soaking in sweat.

As his vision clears, he realises the blankets had wrapped around one of his arms and his struggling had pulled it taught. He unwinds it and feels where the cloth has pressed ridges into his flesh. Every inch of his skin feels itchy and dirty and wrong.

The door clicks open quietly but he still jumps like he’s been slapped.

“Oh, hey sweetheart, you’re awake.” Caduceus' voice is steady and gentle.

Caleb swallows guiltily as he remembers where he is. He has made such a mess of Caduceus’ bed, he is disgusting and he’s surely overstayed his welcome. The Firbolg must have come to ask him to leave-

“Hey, hey, leave that alone, hmm? There’s no need for that.” Caduceus says suddenly.

For what?

Caleb follows his friend’s gaze and realises his wrists are crossed so that he can scratch compulsively at both forearms at once. He must have been doing it for a while; he can feel the soreness now and see his scars standing out like spilled candle wax against reddened skin. He lowers his hands.

“That’s it.” Caduceus encourages with a smile.

“...dreaming.” He manages. His voice is a wreck.

Caduceus nods. “Just a dream though, you’re right here in the Xorhaus with me now.”

Caleb doesn’t need telling that. He is quite capable of orienting himself after a nightmare. He has been doing it nearly every night for years, in fact. But it’s nice to hear someone else say it. It’s nice, too, when the firbolg comes to sit beside him on the bed and takes his chin in one hand, tilting his head slightly to look him over. Caduceus leans his cheek onto Caleb’s forehead to compare and nods, satisfied.

“Looks like your fever broke. That’s good. How are you feeling?”

Caleb shrugs. It’s true, he doesn’t feel hot any more, he just feels wrung out. He feels like he has been run over by a cart and left in the rain.

“Pretty rough, I bet.” Caduceus answers for him. “Poor thing, you look exhausted still.” His big hands smooth over Caleb’s back, lift his hair from his neck and begin to rub the ache from his muscles. “Is that okay?

Caleb nods. It’s more than okay. He sniffles thickly and tries to sit still but he really needs to blow his nose. Caduceus notices at once, passes him a handkerchief and moves away to collect the things he’d brought up with him. Blowing makes Caleb need to sneeze and he doesn’t want to because he knows it’ll scrape his throat raw. He sniffles again instead and scrubs underneath his nose with the heel of his hand. He feels beyond pathetic.

Caduceus returns with a glass of juice and offers it. “It would be good if you could drink something.” He prompts, “You’ve lost a lot of fluid in a short time.”

“Feel like I am a fluid.” Caleb manages a weak smile. “Sorry about your bed.”

“Never mind that. Sheets can be washed.” Caduceus says easily. “But what about you? You could go down to the spa and have a bath? I could help you, if you’re not up to walking just yet.”

Caleb considers this as he drains the glass. It would be good to be clean but there is a distinct swim at the edges of his vision when he turns his head too fast. His legs feel far too heavy for walking anywhere just now.

“Maybe later...” He says.

“That’s fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about that right now.”

So he doesn’t. That's about all the conversation Caleb has in him, so he lies back down again. He feels Caduceus take the pillow from him briefly and manhandle him to one side to replace the sheet underneath him with a dry one. He accepts a clean shirt too and manages to wrangle it over his own head. The effort has him ready to fall asleep again and he doesn’t want to, isn’t ready for the dreams to start all over again. Frumpkin senses this. The cat paces up and down at the foot of the bed, giving voice to a low, miserable mew.

Caduceus reaches to pet Frumpkin and then looks up at Caleb, questioning. Caleb was okay until then, honestly. He was just fine. But something about his friend’s honest, compassionate gaze, an expression of care and concern that is for him, whether he deserves it or not…. A lump forms in his throat and he feels tears rise like a tide. He swallows, shakes his head, presses his eyes firmly closed so they don’t spill out. Ridiculous.

“Do you want me to come sit with you for a bit?” Caduceus says softly.

Caleb nods. He doesn’t open his eyes again but he feels the weight of a lanky firbolg settle beside him, then he feels a warm, steady hand smoothing his hair from his brow and cool, dry lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

Caduceus lies down next to him, a little way away at first. Caleb isn’t feeling good with words right now, but he rolls over and sort of snuggles backwards into Caduceus’ orbit until his friend takes the hint and closes the gap. One arm drapes over him and comes to rest lightly on his arm.

“Is that okay? Not too much?” A bass whisper behind his ear.

“It’s okay. Thank you.” Caleb affirms. “Good. That’s nice. I’d like to try another spell, then do you think you could go back to sleep for a little?”

Caleb nods assent and feels the cool whisper of Caduceus' magic course through him. It doesn’t do much for his stuffy head but it takes the edge of the aches and relaxes his nerves somewhat. Perhaps that’s the placebo effect of knowing someone is making an effort on his behalf. Whichever it is, Frumpkin seems to approve. The cat settles in littlest-spoon position in front of him, purring like an engine. That is all Celeb needs to send him back to sleep.

……….

Caleb wakes groggily. His impeccable sense of time tells him that it is morning; he has slept the whole night in Caduceus’ bed. He does feel better for it; his sinuses are hot and achy, his throat is raw and his lungs tight, but he no longer feels feverish. He sits up on one elbow and rubs tentatively under his nose, trying to dull the ticklish feeling. It doesn’t work and he smothers his face against his forearm to sneeze once, twice, three times in miserable succession.

“Bless you.” A familiar voice from the other side of the room, scratchy and worried. Not Caduceus- just Nott. The goblin woman is sitting criss-cross applesauce at the end of the mattress, apparently waiting for him to wake. At the sudden motion she looks up, big yellow eyes meeting his for a second before he sneezes again.

“Thadk you,” Caleb says thickly. “Hallo Nott.”

While he recovers, she crawls up to his side of the bed and inspects him closely. “‘Deucey said you were better, but you look like shit.” She says mournfully. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He says honestly. It has only been 24 hours but he is still not entirely used to her leaving his side. The fact she let him out of her sight and into Caduceus’ care says a great deal about how safe they both feel in this group. He adds, “trust me, I am feeling a lot better than yesterday. Caduceus gave me some tea and a spell for the fever. Now I just feel like I have a cold.”

“Okay then. Caduceus had to go out, but he says you should have some more tea when you wake up. I could bring it for you...?” It’s a question. She is half expecting him to refuse or at least make it himself.

To her surprise, Caleb nods gratefully. “Yes please, that would be nice. Thank you, Nott. Do you think you could bring my book as well? Then we could sit together.”

Of course she can.

By the time Caleb actually makes it down from the tower it is midday. Caduceus returns and checks him over before allowing him out of bed, which Caleb tolerates with as much grace as he can. His head feels like it’s plugged with cotton and the cough has gotten more persistent, but he feels better in himself. With a few spare handkerchiefs tucked into his pocket and Frumpkin as a warm weight around his shoulders, he feels ready to return to his usual routine.

He runs into the Jester in the dining room. Her exotic sapphire skin looks out of place among the homely pots and pans. She wears an apron and an expression of contentment as checks on something sweet-smelling in the oven. She straightens as he walks in.

“Hey, Cay-leb!” Her accent gives his name that sing-song quality that means he can never be sure if she’s teasing him. She dusts her hands on her apron and crosses to him.

“Should you even be up? Caduceus said you had a pretty high fever and you shouldn’t get a fever with a cold, you know, unless you’re really run down. Let me feel-” She reaches out her hands for him.

“Jester-” he holds up a hand in warning and manages to turn his head and smother three sneezes into the crook of his arm. It makes his head spin and when his vision clears Jester is laughing at him, but fondly.

“Bless you, Cayleb!”

He laughs too, and doesn’t duck this time when she catches his face in both hands and frowns at him. He feels a blush race up his neck when she smoothes a thumb over his cheekbone.

“Well, I don’t think you have a fever now. Honestly it’s kind of hard to tell because I run hot, but you look okay. For you.”

“Danke, Jester.”

“You should probably have a bath, though. You’re pretty stinky right now.”

Okay, he is fairly sure she is teasing him. A bath sounds really good though. His back aches from laying for so long and the steam might loosen the congestion that makes him sound like he’s speaking through concrete.

“Hey, you go put your things down and I’ll run it for you. Go on.”

“I can- he begins but Jester gives him a stern look and he shrugs, relenting, “Ja. Okay. Thank you. That would be nice.”

The bath is indeed excellent. Something in the bubbles Jester has put in it makes him sneeze ticklishly, startling Frumpkin every time, but then he would probably be sneezing anyay. He soaks for nearly an hour, feeling the warmth seep into his bones.

As he towelling his hair dry afterwards there is a knock on the door.

It’s Beauregard. “You naked?”

“Nein, I am dressed now.” He affirms. “Come in.”

She slouches against the doorframe, eyeing him through the steam.

“Hey, so I, uh, heard you weren’t feeling well. You look okay now though, so that’s good I guess.” She spreads her hands, awkward as ever, but Caleb can see past her gruffness to genuine good-will. “But, uh, just kind of wanted to say if you ever need anything from me, all you gotta to do is ask, you know?”

Even yesterday he might have brushed her off. Today her voice is still a little loud and makes his head hurt, but it also touches him.

“What Beau said.” That’s Fjord’s voice. He comes to stand behind her and nods at Caleb. “Even when we’re not fighting anything, you still gotta keep yourself healed up, alright.”

“Ja. Okay. Point taken. Thank you.”

They hover for a moment until Fjord suggests, “Why don’t you come upstairs. I don’t know what Caduceus cooked but it smells real good.”

The dining room is bright with magical lamps. Caduceus is setting out bowls for everyone, Nott and Yeza are already seated and chatting fondly. Yasha is stoking the fire. He knows it’s not for her benefit, with her barbarian blood, but for his, and feels the chill at his limbs lift as soon as he reaches the threshold. Fjord, Jester and Beau take their places at the table at once with a bustle of cutlery and chinking of glasses that makes his sensitive head swim.

It’s very loud in there, very busy, and he is not ready for the weight of all their eyes on him. He honestly doesn’t feel hungry. Whatever good smells Fjord was enjoying, Caleb can’t detect them through his stuffy nose and he knows every swallow will hurt his throat.

He feels sniffly and gross and vulnerable and unfit for company. His instinct is to apologise and retreat to his room to suffer alone. It would be so easy.They would all understand if he said he felt too sick to sit with them.

He is about to make his apologies when Caduceus approaches and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. The firbolg gives him a sympathetic look that makes his lovely, almond shaped eyes turn up at the corners. His hair is bound up out the way of the food, showing the fine rose-coloured down on the shaved part of his skull. He looks soft and welcoming.

“Hey, it’s good to see you up. Do you think you can come and sit with us? I made stew for everyone, but mostly for you. Nice and easy to swallow.”

“Sure.” Caleb finds himself saying. “I’ll give it a go.”

“That’s nice,” Caduceus says happily and turns to fetch Caleb a bowl.

It is nice, actually. Caleb manages to eat a little, mostly to make Nott and Jester stop giving him looks, but there is no pressure when he pushes the bowl away. The hot meal makes his nose run and sets him coughing enough to interrupt the conversation, but Beauregard just leans over to thump him on the back and keeps right on talking. Caduceus passes him a clean handkerchief under the table without drawing attention and noone complains when he turns away to use it.

After the meal he is persuaded to drink a glass of wine and join the rest of the Mighty Nein in the shared space Jester has coined the ‘happy room’. He feels a little weak and shivery, and is about to cross the room to grab a blanket when Yasha tosses one over to him.

“Here, you should have this one,” she says, indicating the delicate embroidered wildflowers over thick wool. “It’s my favourite.”

“It’s beautiful.” He agrees.

The wine has gone straight to his head. He can feel the relaxation seeping through him.

Soon he is yawning and leaning back against Caduceus on the sofa, staring into fire as the chatter of his friends flickers out of focus.

His nose is still bothering him. He sniffles softly, trying not to draw attention, then gasps when the itchy feeling flares suddenly and throws him forward in a sneeze.

““Ah-Tsssh! Ah-tssh-ue! ...ugh. I’m sorry.”

“Wildmother bless you, sweetheart,” Caduceus says fondly.

It happens again, loud enough to make everyone’s heads turn toward him, which sends a blush creeping up his neck. But there are no disgusted glances, just a few raised eyebrows and absent-minded blessings as they return to what they were saying.

As if they don’t mind. As if he has every right to be here, whatever state he’s in. As if they want him around, whether he is contributing right now or not.

He does feel better for the soup and the spell and the company. More than that, he thinks he can feel something within himself start to heal, too.

It’s taking a long time, but with these people it might just be possible.

END.

#sick caleb widogast #sickfic #fever #sneezefic

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mittensmorgul · 4 years

Text

The TNT loop got me good today. 7.21 is... a new level of angst now. I’ve been yelling my incoherent feelings at @wigglebox about this, and decided I just needed to make all the parallels. So I’m just gonna quote chunks of the transcript for 7.21 here, and then comment on it. Because it is A Lot™

(honestly y’all should be glad I’m not a gif maker because a) it probably would make this post lethal, and 2) the first casualty would’ve been me)

Okay, here we go. For reference, I’m just using the transcript here, and basically annotating it with thoughts from the POV of 15.03. Some of it will be directly quoted from this transcript at the superwiki if you’d like to follow along for maximum pain (or to fill in any blanks I’ve left in the rest of the episode), and some of it will just be direct commentary.

We begin with Cas awakening, bolting upright, from the catatonic state he’s been in since he’d healed Sam’s Hell Trauma. Remember, Cas took that wound into himself. Cas’s awakening wasn’t “natural.” It coincided with the awakening of the Prophet Kevin Tran, and Dean shattering the ancient rock concealing a long-buried “Word Of God.” I’d like to take a moment here to remind everyone why Sam had even suffered this trauma that Cas had to heal in the first place. Not only was “breaking Sam’s wall” one of the “terrible things” Cas had done in s6 in the name of trying to keep Dean from being conscripted back into service in the new Apocalypse Raphael was plotting, but it also led directly to The Worst Thing Cas Has Ever Done In The Name Of Doing The Right Thing Of His Own Free Will. Because ALL of this was couched in that language. In 6.20, in that final scene, this was the specific language that Cas used with Dean in his final attempt to earn Dean’s trust and support in his (soon to be) catastrophic plan. And Dean couldn’t give it to him. ALL of this is now currently wrapped up into the events of the first three episodes of s15. Free Will, the Word of God, a Cosmic Wound that has injured both Sam and Cas (and that Cas was unable to heal this time), Kevin Tran forced into service, A Plot to gather god-like power through the consumption of souls, a Rift into an afterlife for the purposes of releasing a terrible apocalypse on the world... heck... there’s probably more, but this will do nicely for a start, for the purposes of Painful, Awful Context.

FLASH TO TITLE CARD

(see what I mean? this is gonna be a long, bumpy ride... I should probably put this under a cut...)

The lightning flashes and odd weather effects from breaking open the tablet caused a worldwide disruption to the weather, to the point that a meteorologist on the radio said he wasn’t baffled by it, but offended.

So the Word of God being freed, from being given power by having been revealed, revealed something that went beyond confusion, and was just so wrong it actually made the guy ANGRY. Hmm. Kinda like Dean in early s15, yes? Dean’s our “offended weatherman.”

(I really miss the text separator line function. Thanks for taking that away from us, tungl. I guess I’ll have to insert something else between commentary... asterisks it is... I’ll keep it to three for a visual separation that hopefully won’t screw too badly with screen readers)

DEAN: So, what? We start the storm heard 'round the world? SAM: When we broke this thing [SAM touches the stone tablet] open last night, every maternity ward within a hundred-mile radius got slammed. Looks like any woman in the last month of her pregnancy went into labor.

WELL that’s definitely an interesting parallel... motherhood, giving birth. With the imagery of Rowena’s spell in 15.03 looking both like Mary and Jess in 1.01 as well as a weird sort of “reverse birth” of hundreds of souls.

***

Sam and Dean were planning to head West to Rufus’ cabin, until THIS, that had them heading in the exact opposite direction, because Cas:

SAM: What? [to DEAN] Cas is awake. DEAN: When? [SAM puts the phone on speaker and holds it out.] When? MEG: Last night about eight. DEAN: And you waited till now to call us? MEG: I've been busy with Cas. He's just a tad different than when he dozed off, 'kay? DEAN: What do you mean, different? MEG: Hey, Seacrest, guess what – not a nurse. Just playing one on TV. Want answers? Start driving.

Or, because Demon who teamed up with them specifically because they intended to use Cas for his specific power... Meg intended to earn Cas’s loyalty for her own security/protection/personal mission against Crowley, so she could swing him like a big hammer. In s15, Belphegor’s machinations were much the same, with his long-term plan to earn just enough of Cas’s trust to use him as the key to open the box holding Lilith’s Crook. By hook or by crook, right? Demons, man. I mean, I’ve mentioned the parallel to 8.17, and the crypt scene with the unlocking of this box in a different crypt for a different god-level power item (in 8.17 it was brainwashing and the angel tablet, and in 7.21 it’s denial and the leviathan tablet, but you can draw a big fat straight line through all of it). And this is just another go-around of all those same themes.

***

DEAN: We raced all the way here, and now I don't know. I can't say I'm fired up to see what's left of the guy. SAM: You think he remembers at all? DEAN: That, and I'm guessing whatever kind of hell baggage he lifted off of your plate. It's not gonna be pretty.

Oh remember this? Previously on Supernatural, this was owie, but now it’s been weaponized with new context from s15, with this endless cycle of guilt and blame laid on the table between Dean and Cas. He couldn’t look at Cas, was terrified to see what had become of Cas because of ALL of this. Because of everything that began in s6 and culminated with them finally cracking the Word of God. Or at least A word of god, since we know now that this wasn’t the only thing Chuck wrote, you know? And we’re still due to progress through Metatron’s hackneyed retelling, too. But even back then, Dean’s feelings of guilt, blame, and loss were all tangled up together regarding Cas, and infused with a confusing dollop of friendship, need, and (dare I suggest) love. Because the kind of stuff Dean (and Sam) have forgiven Cas for over the years? Even if it was only in knowing the underlying good intentions and wondering about all of Cas’s motivations, this isn’t the kind of thing you forgive someone for unless you truly care about them, deep down. The only ones who truly have the power to break you like this are the ones you love.

***

After Cas’s unsettling attempt at a “joke,” (pull my finger *lights explode* *disturbing chortling*), Dean needs information, and needs it from Cas.

DEAN: Okay, just hang on, Cas. Wait. Let us catch up to you for a second. SAM: So, you're saying you remember who you are, what you are. CASTIEL: Yes. Of course. Oh. Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add. SAM: You might want to add a little Thorazine. MEG: Right? He's been like the naked guy at the rave ever since he woke up. Totally useless.

Let’s start at the end of this mess and work our way back to the start. Meg declares Cas “totally useless.” Because in his current state (I don’t fight, I watch the bees), he literally can’t be the weapon she hoped he’d be for her own personal needs. Like Belphegor in s15, it took some chipping away before Cas could even remotely be “useful” to him. Cas couldn’t even look at him, and he certainly would never agree to fight for him (the muscle).

Next let’s tackle Cas’s perception of creation, as told in metaphor between his observation on the micro-level scale of the “route of flowers,” which he directly compared to the macro-level scale of “the whole plan.” As if there was a “whole plan” to the universe. I could write a doctoral thesis on just this statement alone, of how Cas’s observation of the plan inherently altered it, how his presence in the garden as observer watching the bees do their thing, following them along their paths to the flowers irrevocably inserted him into the “whole plan,” and whether he or the bees realized it or not, those bees by necessity altered their paths to accommodate Cas’s presence in their daily routine. Did this make their lives easier? More difficult? Regardless, it had to affect their choices, which flowers to visit, which paths to fly, because Cas’s mere presence provided an obstacle to their routes. They couldn’t fly through him, you know? Left or right, over and around, He became something the “whole plan” needed to work around. And isn’t that what Chuck’s been doing since the start? And on an entirely different level, Chuck’s done it all with intent, because “the whole plan” had been his creation from the beginning.

And then, both first and last depending on your perspective, is Dean, asking Cas to stop just long enough for him to finally catch up. Asking Cas to wait. Because Dean feels like he’s the one who’s fallen behind.

Okay, everyone take five to have a good cry *passes out tissues*

***

CASTIEL: Will you look at her? My caretaker. All of that thorny pain. So beautiful. MEG: We've been over this. I don't like poetry. Put up or shut up.

Ah, Cas and “poetry.” He’s temporarily given up on seeking Free Will, temporarily abandoned the attempt to “teach poetry to fish,” as he’d said in 6.20. And Meg doesn’t like poetry either. She just wants Cas to suck it up and do what she needs him to-- be her personal hammer. She doesn’t care about him, but only what he can do for her. Put up or shut up.

***

CASTIEL: Oh. Of course. Now I understand. SAM: Understand what? CASTIEL: You were the ones. Well... I guess that makes sense. DEAN: What makes sense? CASTIEL: If someone was going to free the Word from the vault of the earth, it would end up being you two. Oh, I love you guys. CASTIEL pulls DEAN and SAM into a hug.

Of course The Winchesters would be the Disruptors™ to the natural order, right? Even though Sam and Dean had only stumbled across the word of God by accident, while trying to clean up the planet-wide epidemic of cosmic Goo left behind after Cas’s attempt to rewrite the story and play god. But still, of course it would be Sam and Dean, because it’s always Sam and Dean, right? I mean, Cas already hung a lampshade on “The Whole Plan” being right there for anyone to see, in everything from the path of the flowers right up to the unearthing of the Word.

Chalk another one up to the spiral narrative as everything.

***

Cas mutters something about cat penises, and females not being consulted on that terrible bit of creation. Chuck, man. Throwing barbed penises around with zero consideration for the ladies. Ow. But on to the bigger things:

DEAN: Cas, please, we're losing ground out there, okay? We need your help. Can you not see that? CASTIEL: This is the handwriting of Metatron. SAM: Metatron? You saying a Transformer wrote that? DEAN: No. That's Megatron. SAM: What? DEAN: The Transformer – it's Megatron. SAM: What? CASTIEL: Metatron. He's an angel. He's the scribe of God. He took down dictation when creation was being formed. SAM: And that's the Word of God? CASTIEL: One of them, yes.

They’ve been drowning in goo for months, and Cas coming back had represented a beacon of hope in the darkness. But the reality of the whole situation at hand wasn’t something Cas could deal with. He was so burdened with personal guilt that he chose to ignore the mess, reacting with anger (and by disappearing) with directly confronted with it. In s15, Dean... can’t just disappear, even though he’s the one drowning now.

A... Transformer. A misinterpreted word that changes the meaning, creating a baffling misunderstanding that requires a re-translation and correction before understanding can occur. That’s so meta I could cry. “I always get the words right.” Cas had no idea what “Megatron” or “Transformers” were, but saw that Sam and Dean were literally “speaking language he didn’t understand,” but that they’d come to a satisfactory conclusion that seemed irrelevant to their current conversation anyway, and just... continued on as if the disruption had never occurred. An entire loop of conversation just flew right over his head. He might not get words wrong, but sometimes he just doesn’t get them at all, you know? Nor does Dean always understand what the intent behind Cas’s words are. They need a translator. Or they need to stop speaking in references and metaphor, and speak clearly in unmistakable language. And all of this is wrapped up in the parallel to the indecipherable Word of God, which will require a unique translator to interpret.

Author to Scribe to Prophet, because the knowledge within is not meant for angels. It’s not even meant for humans. It’s just another randomly-scattered puzzle left by Chuck to be simultaneously helpful and dangerous. Choices and drama.

***

CASTIEL: Don't like conflict. CASTIEL disappears and the stone tablet drops to the floor, breaking into three pieces.

Aah, the conflict, that Meg attempts to blame on Dean, when she was the one who (I mean, understandably she was curious, but she’s still a demon that Dean still doesn’t trust, who once possessed Sam and tried to force Dean to kill him, so... she’s not actually their friend, she was “mutually assured destruction” in case things with Cas went sideways while Sam and Dean were running around trying to clean up the Leviathan mess...). Cas’s reaction to conflict back then had been to drop the Word like a hot potato, smashing it to pieces on the floor. Even when he isn’t trying, he’s tearing up pages and altering the shape of Chuck’s story. Bless him. But he’s still... actively avoiding doing anything, including acknowledging his own role in the events that have brought them to this point, and to everything Dean had been fighting almost on his own (Sam’s been “in the bell jar” most of s7 fighting the Hallucifers) and basically surviving with whiskey, denial, and pasting a fake smile on and pushing through trauma after trauma without Cas (or... pretty much anyone else in any measurably reliable way). But we all know this isn’t how DEAN reacts to trauma, right? He pushes people away, by manufacturing conflict when he runs out of organic conflict.

***

DEAN: All right, I'll go handle Cas. Sam, will you please pick up the Word of God?

Dean, delegating responsibilities. He’ll take the broken angel, and Sam will take the broken Word.

***

MEG: We both call, who do you think Cas will come to? I'm guessing me. You heard him – thorny beauty, blah, blah. I'm the saint who stayed with him. He owes me. His words. SAM: Yeah, what about what he owes us? MEG: Well, work on him a little. Maybe he'll start crushing on you, too, hot stuff. SAM: What are you gonna do with a broken angel? Don't be stupid. MEG: I'll take power where I can get it. I've got myself to look out for.

Unlike Belphegor, Meg never even attempted to disguise her motives. She wanted Cas for his power, broken or not. She’d find a way to manipulate him to defend her-- despite his insistence that he doesn’t fight. And it’s interesting it’s Sam who’s given the line “what about what he owes us?” While Dean’s discussion with Cas is far more personal.

***

DEAN: You realize you just broke God's Word? CASTIEL looks away and DEAN sits down at the table opposite him. DEAN: It's Sam's thing, isn't it? You taking on his, uh, cage-match scars. I'm guessing that's what broke your bank, right? CASTIEL: Well, it took... everything to get me here. DEAN: What are you talking about, man? CASTIEL: Dean, I know you want different answers. DEAN: No, I want you to button up your coat and help us take down Leviathans. Do you remember what you did? CASTIEL holds up the board game “Sorry!” He shakes it once and the board and pieces appear on the table, set up ready to play. CASTIEL sets the box aside. CASTIEL: Do you want to go first?

Dean’s still kind of in awe at the notion of directly defying God’s Word, and Cas just... doesn’t even seem bothered. Dean needs to find an explanation for Cas’s avoidance of the Urgent Matter at Hand. He blames it on what Cas suffered after taking on Sam’s Hell trauma, but Cas tries to tell him it’s so much more than that, that his entire experience since the moment he gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition had led to this moment. But that’s too much for Dean to even wrap his head around, and Cas is just... speaking in riddles anyway. So he presses on and demands a direct answer. Cas continues speaking in riddles.

And pushing for a more direct personal conversation, despite the chasm of misunderstandings separating them. For possibly the first time ever, it’s Cas speaking in metaphors and references that Dean does not understand. And it frustrates the hell out of him. He just wants to get some straight answers out of Cas before the world goes up in flames. Or drowns in dark waters.

He needs Cas to “button up his coat” and help save the world. Save it from the mess he technically made of it. But Cas won’t even engage with what Dean’s saying to him, like in s15 Dean doesn’t even engage with what Cas is saying to him (but Cas is also refusing to button up his coat and do what had to be done in s15, refusing to even look at Belphegor... despite actively assuming another equally important job... he wasn’t avoiding HELPING, just avoiding the specific task Dean had tried to give him... as the one of them most qualified to monitor a demon for ~demonic hinkiness~ or whatever. Sam and Dean would’ve just assumed they were dealing with Jack if Cas hadn’t been the one to tell them it was actually a demon, you know?

***

Meanwhile, back in Cas’s room, Kevin is knitting the Word of God back together, while being simultaneously baffled and terrified by everything that’s going on.

***

DEAN picks up a “Sorry!” card. CASTIEL: You know, we weren't sure at first which monkeys were gonna make it. No offense, but I [DEAN moves a marker on the board] was backing the Neanderthals because their poetry was... just amazing. It's in perfect tune [CASTIEL picks up a card] with the spheres. But in the end, it was you – the [CASTIEL moves a marker] homo sapiens sapiens. You guys ate the apple, invented pants. DEAN: Cas, where can we find this, uh, Metatron? Is he still alive? CASTIEL: I'm sorry. I – I think you have to go back to start. DEAN moves a marker. DEAN: This is important. CASTIEL motions for DEAN to pick up another card. DEAN does and moves another marker. DEAN: I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. You understand that? CASTIEL picks up another card. CASTIEL: We live in a "sorry" universe. It's engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from... your misfortune? [CASTIEL puts down a marker and moves DEAN’s marker back to the start.] But these are the rules. I didn't make them. DEAN: You made some of them. When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall. CASTIEL: Dean... it's your move. DEAN pounds a fist on the table and swipes the board to the floor. DEAN: Forget the damn game! Forget the game, Cas. CASTIEL: I'm sorry, Dean. DEAN: No. You're playing "Sorry!"

Dean’s still trying to solve their bigger problems, but he’s really trying to play along to appease Cas, trying to speak to him on a level he can understand. Trying to “play his game” and hope that Cas will play by the rules Dean had thought they both understood-- give and take. Mutual contribution to the conversation. But Cas continued talking about things Dean believed were irrelevant in the face of the current crisis. Neanderthals losing out to homo sapiens. And again, Cas talking poetry, and referencing the spiral narrative of creation.

The thing about Sorry! is that the game involves a lot of elements of chance, but also a lot of elements of CHOICE. I know someone’s written meta on this in the past, but really quickly, in Sorry, each player controls a number of different pawns, all of which must eventually be advanced from the starting point to their respective finish line. The playing board itself is the defined and accepted parameters of the world the game will play out on, yet there are multiple different “paths” for each player to take. The players draw cards in turn (the element of Chance) and then decide which of their pieces to advance according to the instructions on the card they selected (the element of Choice).

The thing is, in this game, Cas could’ve chosen to “play a different piece.” He could’ve made the game easier on Dean while still advancing his own position, and yet he chose to strategically remove Dean’s piece from the board. Cas was playing not just to win for himself, but to frustrate Dean’s chances to even get a fair turn to play. Cas was playing by the rules, after all, which encourage competition over teamwork. The name of the game is Sorry! after all, and “sending your opponent back to the start” is half the point of the game. Cas wasn’t going to even play in the spirit of cooperation with Dean. He wasn’t going to provide answers. This was, in a horrific way, Cas’s attempt to revert himself back to the “reprogrammed” Cas that came back from Heaven at the end of 4.20. All under the guise of playing sorry, without having to engage with it in good faith.

Dean wasn’t even asking Cas to fight here. He was trying to respect Cas’s choice to “avoid conflict.” But Cas wouldn’t even TALK to him, wasn’t even engaging with him as if HE was real. And Dean was not unreasonably frustrated.

Dean’s been fighting back against an impossible enemy that can’t be killed and has devised a way to suppress human free will into submission, so that all of humanity will willingly march themselves into the slaughterhouse. It’s horrifically WORSE than the apocalypse to Dean, and he’s desperate and at the end of his rope, and is hoping for even a spark of hope to keep fighting himself... and Cas has nothing but poetry for him.

***

And then the angels show up, prepared to take the Prophet with them, as if Kevin was their property. Kinda raises some questions about how the Prophet Chuck could’ve been unaware of what he was, you know? Almost as if it had literally been a lie...

HESTER: You smote thousands in Heaven. You gave a big, scary speech. Then you were gone. What the hell was that?! CASTIEL: Rude, for one thing. INIAS: Where have you been? CASTIEL: Oh, Inias. Hester, I... I know you want something – answers. I... I wish it could be that… There are still many things I can teach you. I can offer, um, well, perspective. Here. [CASTIEL points a finger at HESTER.] Pull my finger. [HESTER doesn’t move.] Uh... Uh... Meg will – will get another light, and I'll – I'll blow it out again. And, well, this time, it'll be funny, and – and we'll all look back and laugh. HESTER: You're insane. DEAN: Hey. DEAN is standing in the doorway. DEAN: Heads up, Sunshine. DEAN puts his hand in an angel-banishing sigil he’s drawn on the wall outside the room. White light flares and the angels vanish.

Unlike Dean, who’d tried to be patient and understanding with Cas despite everything, Hester simply angrily demanded answers from him. And Cas... was equally evasive with her. She labeled his evasion “insane,” but Cas is 100% sane. He knows exactly what it is he’s avoiding answering for, but he’s paralyzed with fear that anything he does will only add to the problem. And Dean gets rid of the angels before they can start killing everyone (including Cas).

I mean, Cas’s answers are pretty obvious anyway, you know? His guilt, his hubris for believing he was choosing the right thing, in trying to teach the angels a better way-- Free Will and the protection of humanity-- that in the execution he lost his own free will (and his life) and unleashed a horror onto Heaven and Earth that he’s entirely incapable of fixing. It’s not like he doesn’t HAVE answers, they’re just... to much for him to even face. Guilt is a terrible thing.

***

DEAN: That is back in one piece, I see. And you're saying that there's some sort of a "How to punch Dick" recipe in there somewhere? KEVIN: I-I don't know what you're saying, but it seems kind of like an "in case of emergency" note. What did they mean by "prophet"? DEAN: Oh, no. [to SAM] Really? SAM: Yeah. Yeah, that's what the angel said. KEVIN: I don't want to be a prophet. DEAN: No. You don't at all.

Yeah... nobody wants to be a prophet. It’s a terrible job. No free will, no freedom at all, just ensnared into the service to God’s Word. (oh, and poor Kevin will try to resist, will willingly nearly kill himself trying to turn God’s Word around into a weapon he can wield. I can see why Chuck would single him out for specific “punishment” for messing around with his story like that.

***

MEG: Yeah. Yeah, Castiel. It's me. DEAN: Cas? Where? Where is he? MEG: [to DEAN] Shut up. CASTIEL: I’ll stop speaking. MEG: No. No, Cas. You talk. CASTIEL: [audible over MEG’s phone] I’m in a place called Perth. MEG: Perth? DEAN: Perth? As in Australia? MEG: What dogs? [to DEAN] He says he's surrounded by unhappy dogs. CASTIEL: They’re chasing a rabbit around [indistinct]… MEG: Oh. Okay. He's at a dog track in Perth. CASTIEL: I’m surrounded by large unhappy dogs. MEG: Yeah, they're unhappy 'cause the rabbit's fake. Listen, we're on highway 94, north of St. Cloud, Minnesota, just passing mile marker 79. CASTIEL materializes in the back seat between MEG and KEVIN.

Okay, first off, miscommunication. This is just riddled with miscommunication. But the background conversation, Cas is at a dog track surrounded by large, unhappy dogs. Kinda makes interesting light of all the “Dean is a Weird Dog” the show has been hammering on for years-- both literally and metaphorically. But... these dogs at the track are given the runaround. They’re trained to run a specific track for the entertainment of the spectators, running in endless circles chasing after a lure that they can never quite catch before they arrive at the finish line, where even winning the race just means they’ll have to run another round around the track the next day. And the lure? The rabbit they’re trained to follow after? It’s fake. It’s all part of the bigger game the poor dogs can’t escape from. I’d be unhappy, too.

Which is all a tidy metaphor for how Dean feels in s15, but how Cas has seen pretty much everything since way back at this point, if not far earlier.

Hence even more miscommunications, or at the very least each of them not understanding where the other is even coming from, based on these wildly different baseline perspectives. Cas, as an angel, had always been one of the spectators before Dean had pulled him into the race, so to speak. He’s always understood all of existence as a sort of game in this way, but Dean had never even had an inkling of the bigger game they were all part of all along. He’d thought he understood the rules, understood his role in the game, and it took until s15 for him to see that all of it had been a game to Chuck. That even when he’d thought he’d escaped the endless go-around of fake rabbits, it had only put him back at the startling line over and over again to run another race. And Cas... can’t understand Dean’s perspective here any more than Dean can understand Cas’s, despite them each believing they actually understand one another and just don’t care... awful, right?

***

CASTIEL: They're from the Garrison – my old Garrison. Looks like Hester's taken over. We were assigned to watch the earth. Often, it was boring. The wars were very boring and the sex – you know, the repetition. Anyway, I was, uh... I was their captain. Isn't that strange? SAM: Cas, why are they pissed at us now? CASTIEL: [to MEG] You know, those racing dogs were absolutely miserable. They can only think in ovals. DEAN: Cas, don't make me pull this car over! Why are angels after us? CASTIEL: Are you angry? Why are you angry? DEAN: No, I-I'm... Please, can we just stay on target? CASTIEL: There is no reason for anger. They're only following protocol. If the Word of God is revealed, a keeper of the Word will awaken, like this [He touches KEVIN’s nose] hot potato right here.

Observing creation enabled Cas to see the “repetition.” The endless loops. Like the dogs running in ovals. But he’s unable to connect with humanity directly right now, unable to risk feeling. And we’re back to doorways to doubt, and the same “only humans can feel true joy.” But also suffering. As long as he remains at a distance, he can protect himself from feeling all of that, from having to recognize his part in it.

And he doesn’t understand why Dean is angry that he keeps talking in circles.

Dean just wants to know why the angels are angry at THEM, why they’re coming after THEM when they’ve got so many other bigger problems they’re trying to solve.

***

CASTIEL: Anyway, Garrison code dictates you take the keeper to the desert to learn the Word away from men. DEAN: What kind of sense does that make? He has to tell us so that we can use it. CASTIEL: That's God and his shiny red apples.

Cas didn’t expect anything less from God. Dean just wants to stop the Leviathan from eating humanity and destroying life as they knew it, and Cas... doesn’t have anything to give.

***

DEAN: Okay, you know what? Screw the Garrison. We need the tablet to end Sick Roman's "Soylent Us" crap. CASTIEL: If you want the Word, you'll have to duck Hester and her soldiers. SAM: Yeah, you're in our corner, right, Cas? CASTIEL: No, I don't fight anymore. I watch the bees.

see? yet despite that declaration, Cas does try to help how he feels comfortable-- painting sigils to hide them from angels, but leaving off banishing sigils or he himself wouldn’t be able to stay. Kind of a conundrum, right? Sacrificing some of the safety Sam and Dean could’ve worked into the sigils so he himself could remain in the room with them.

***

CASTIEL: You seem troubled. Of course, that's a primary aspect of your personality, so I sometimes ignore it. SAM: Okay. Um... right now I'm just wondering about you. CASTIEL: What about me? You're worried about the burden I lifted from you. SAM: I think I was done for. Do you see Lucifer? CASTIEL: I did at first. But that was... It was a projection of yours, I think, sort of an aftertaste. Now I more see... well, everything. It's funny. I was – I was done for, too. The weight of all my mistakes, all those lives and souls lost, I... I couldn't take it, either. I was… I was lost until I took on your pain. It's strange to think that that helped, but – SAM: I know you never did anything but try to help. I realize that, Cas, and I'm grateful. We're all grateful. And we're gonna help you get better, okay? No matter what it takes. CASTIEL: What do you mean, "better"?

And here we have it. Sam plainly expresses his own guilt and regret over what’s become of Cas. But Cas hasn’t even begun to see how deep he’s buried himself to avoid dealing with his own guilt. Using Sam’s trauma as a sort of penance, he’s using that to “transfer” his own guilt away from himself, the way he shifted Sam’s trauma into himself. As if the second shift washes away the first and he’s wiped the slate clean. As long as he lets himself believe that, he doesn’t have to face what he’s done, and the consequences of his own choices.

Which is... kinda what Dean’s doing in early s15.

***

KEVIN: I am not prepared to factor the supernatural into my [DEAN puts the brown paper bag over KEVIN’s face] world view. DEAN: Okay, there we go. [He pats KEVIN on the back.] That's it. That's it. Just breathe. Take it easy. KEVIN holds onto the bag and breathes into it. DEAN: Oh, I don't know, man. What can I say? You've been chosen. And it sucks. Believe me. There's no use asking "why me?" 'Cause the angels – they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just... breaks them apart.

I mean, Dean’s seen what trying to care has done to Cas. And Dean... was the one who pushed Cas to care in the first place.

***

And Meg kills a couple of demons who’d picked up their track, but that also brings the angels back down on them:

MEG: Typical. I save our bacon, and you're sitting here, waiting by a devil's trap. Seriously, I just killed two of Crowley's men. I could have gone the other way on that. CASTIEL: It's true, incidentally. There's other demons' blood on that blade. MEG: Look, I'm simpler than you think. I've figured one thing out about this world – just one, pretty much. You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life. Lucifer and Yellow Eyes – their mission was it for me. DEAN: So, what? We should trust you because you wanted to free Satan from Hell? MEG: I'm talking "cause," douchebag, as in reason to get up in the morning. Obviously, these things shift over time. We learn, we grow. Now, for me currently, the cause is bringing down the King. And I know we'll need help to do it. DEAN: Crowley ain't the problem this year. MEG: When are you gonna get it? Crowley's always the problem. He's just waiting for the right moment to strike. I know what I'm supposed to do. And it isn't screw with Sam and Dean or lose the only angel who'd go to bat for me. SAM breaks the devil’s trap with his foot. CASTIEL: This is good – harmony and communication. Now our only problem is Hester.

yeah, but they haven’t really communicated anything useful yet. But Cas does know that the angels are about to find them again...

***

HESTER: You took the Prophet from us?! CASTIEL: I'm – I'm sorry? HESTER: You have fallen in every way imaginable. INAIS: Please, Castiel. We have to follow the code. Help us do our work. DEAN: He can't help you. He can't help anybody. HESTER: We don't need his help... or his permission. HESTER nods to INAIS, who nods back. There is the sound of angel wings and INAIS disappears. HESTER: The Keeper goes to the desert tonight. INAIS reappears with KEVIN. DEAN: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back off. We're actually trying to clean up one of your angel's messes! You know that. CASTIEL: He's right. An angel brought the Leviathan back into this world, and – and they begged him. They begged him not to do it. DEAN: Look, just give us some time, okay? We will take care of your Prophet. HESTER: Why should we give you anything... After everything you have taken from us? The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost! For that, you're going to pay. HESTER walks towards DEAN. CASTIEL: Please. They're the ones we were put here to protect. HESTER: No, Castiel. HESTER backhands CASTIEL and he falls to the ground. INAIS and the other MALE ANGEL each hold up two fingers to stop DEAN and SAM from going to CASTIEL’s aid. HESTER: No more madness! [She punches CASTIEL.] No more promises! [She punches CASTIEL again.] No more new Gods! [She punches CASTIEL repeatedly and then holds up an angel knife.]

I couldn’t decide how to break this up to talk about it, because one thing leads directly into the next, and it all goes to context.

Hester accuses Cas of falling “in every way imaginable.” In the wake of their brush with free will, the remaining angels are attempting to restore the old order to Heaven, because there’s not much left to them than what they’d known before. When the new rules fail, the only thing they know to do is revert to the old rules.

Dean calls them out on it, and Cas even steps in to support Dean’s words. Only Cas can’t even say *I* and *me* here. He talks about himself in the third person, but at least he’s acknowledging what kicked off this mess, even if he’s still not taking direct responsibility for it. Not only that, he acknowledges that Dean had tried to stop him, and that he’d refused to listen. This seems to be a key point again in 15.03. The inability to acknowledge guilt and responsibility, and the refusal to listen. This entire conversation is just a few painful twists away from the Breakup Scene in 15.03.

But Hester lays down The Worst Truth, that Dean himself is at fault for destroying Cas, for just the TOUCH of him “corrupting” Cas, breaking him until he broke the world. To Dean, this was the equivalent confirmation of all his worst fears-- he’s poison, he’s worthless-- that Cas got from Belphegor in 15.03-- that Dean doesn’t care about him beyond his usefulness. But this is something that Dean will carry with him for YEARS, and which Dean will continue to feel in every dealing he has with Cas going forward-- that HE is at fault, that HE is unworthy, that everything that makes Cas “fall” in any way is because of him, because he’s poison. And so he internalizes every mistake that Cas makes, every burden he endures, as his own, because it’s all his fault anyway, right?

But Cas, too, learned a lesson here as Hester beat and prepared to kill him: NO MORE MADNESS. NO MORE NEW GODS. And when confronted with the truth of what Belphegor planned-- to become a new god in the same way that Cas had-- he understood what he had to do. He would not exchange one problem for another, exchange one apocalypse for one that would likely be even worse. It was a terrible choice, and I think this is the root of his decision.

***

Here have some dramatic irony, and the demon saving Cas’s life:

INAIS: Hester! No! [He grabs HESTER’s arm.] Please! There's so few of us left. HESTER punches INAIS in the face with the hand holding the knife. HESTER: [to CASTIEL] You wanted free will. Now I'm making the choices. HESTER raises the knife. White light blazes from her chest and she falls to the ground. MEG has stabbed her. MEG: What? Someone had to.

Hester claimed she was choosing her actions now, using the same excuse of Free Will that Cas himself had claimed as his motivation for swallowing Purgatory in the first place. Even when everything she’d done had been in the name of restoring the Old Order, of following the Rules that angels had always obeyed. Talk about not getting the point of Free Will.

This is what Dean’s struggling with now in s15, with his own long-held understanding of what Free Will even meant, with this new context that Chuck had repeatedly thrown new obstacles in his path, personally. There are no rules left, or so it feels like to him. There’s nothing to revert back to, or hold on to as an ideal, when every choice they make has been engineered to lead them to equally bad outcomes.

***

But Cas... he’s understood this for a very long time:

INAIS: These are strange times. CASTIEL: I think they've always been. INAIS puts a hand on CASTIEL’s arm. INAIS: I wish you'd come with us. CASTIEL: Oh, I'm not part of the Garrison anymore, Inias. I'm sorry.

Sure, he’ll be forced back against his will, but in a way that will help save him eventually. It won’t feel like salvation for years to come, though, but it’s a journey.

***

SAM: Here. “Leviathan cannot be slain but by a bone of a righteous mortal washed in the three bloods of the fallen.” Uh... It says we need to start with the blood of a fallen angel. SAM and DEAN look at CASTIEL. CASTIEL: Well, you know me. [He holds out a small bottle.] I'm always happy to bleed for the Winchesters. CASTIEL hands the bottle, which is filled with blood, to DEAN. DEAN: What are you gonna do, Cas? CASTIEL: I don't know. [He smiles.] Isn't that amazing?

AAAAHAHAHAH. Angel blood, required by Belphegor’s first spell. This scene was directly paralleled in 15.01, and with context, it’s it awful? After refusing to fight for the entire episode, Cas is happy to bleed. To do penance, but not to be burdened with action or responsibility. And with complete freedom to choose his next move, to choose for himself what to do with himself, he... chooses nothing. And heck, I get it, after billions of years of thinking he didn’t have ANY choices, suddenly he’s presented with EVERY OPTION, and is DELIGHTED by that.

But the one thing he WON’T choose? Staying with Dean. Standing by Dean’s side while he fights to clean up Cas’s mess.

Dean’s next line to Sam after Cas leaves? “Well, let’s get to work.”

They can’t rest yet. They can’t stop, because the world’s still ending and they’re still entirely on their own. Only now they’re armed with at least a DIRECTION they can work toward. It’s something, but... it’s still just the two of them alone against the apocalypse. Which is what Cas had spent s6 trying to avoid. And can’t face at all now.

And this is what Dean had long since resigned himself to-- that Cas, given the choice, would leave. So Cas choosing to leave in 15.03? I think Dean was shocked he hadn’t left sooner.

And then of course there’s the angels dying when they return Kevin to his home, only to be deceived by Leviathan and abducted.

He just couldn’t win. And neither could Cas, and neither could Dean and Sam. It was an unwinnable game that would just break them all again.

I could do a post like this for 7.22, and for 7.23, and probably for every other episode from all the episodes between then and now, but this has taken me all day. I really hope y’all are making all the same connections, spotting all the thematic subversions and twists of every turn of the narrative spiral between then and now. But this episode killed me today. And it gives a lot of obvious context to Dean and Cas’s choices and issues in early s15 that led to the Breakup. But hopefully it also lays down the foundation of what they truly need to put out on the table to move past this impasse.

They need to put down something better than Sorry! They need to use real words and actually listen to each other. But the fact that scene in 15.03 directly called out this miscommunication, this refusal to listen (and it’s not just on Dean here, but Cas has refused to listen, too). And now the narrative demands they have that conversation for real. For their own good, but for the good of the world, to break these eternal ovals and finally break free of this endless chasing after the fake rabbit.

#spn s15 spoilers #spn 15.03 #spn 7.21 #spn 15.01 #spn 15.02 #destiel #if you say 'mysterious ways' so help me i will kick your ass #it's spirals all the way down #spiders georg of the tnt loop #s15 meta rewatch #using your words #holy crap this is long... it's taken me all day because i had to keep stopping and doing something cheerful in between thinking about it

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