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msmarvelouswinchester · 3 years

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Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 2 - Noise Complaint

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None expect meanie Dean (Suspicious, isn’t it?)

WC - 2154

Square Filled - Don't put me in this position ( @anyfandomgoesbingo )

A/N - I promise the next chapter will have more of Dean and more conflict! This is just the beginning of a very long ride. Enjoy!

Beta’d by @miss-nerd95

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist Masterlist

The silence in the cab on her way back to her apartment gave her the quality time she needed to think. In a few weeks, Meg was getting married and now, since they knew, Y/N had to show up with her 'boyfriend’. She racked her brain, scrambling to come up with a good excuse because it was all a big lie.

Every time, however, she reached two conclusions - either make a fool of herself and admit that she lied or tell everyone that she broke up and be the one person at the wedding that everyone looks down on with pitiful eyes.

There was a third option, which was risque as hell too, cause Y/N barely knew the man and their first meeting did not go so well, but there was definitely something about him that made her blush every time she thought of him.The way he carried himself and the dominating vibes he gave off, sent shivers down her spine. Maybe he wasn't a morning person and she did start blabbering in the elevator the minute she stepped in. She swallowed hard when she remembered the way her name rolled off his tongue. ‘How did he know?’ She wondered.

As Y/N boarded the elevator, she thought about how, she wanted nothing more than to see a certain green-eyed man again. She had been residing in this complex for almost three months but she had never seen the man before. Maybe he was new here, in this apartment building, who knew? Mind plagued by millions of thoughts, Y/N trudged down the empty hallway to her cosy little home.

“Who invented these fucking heels?” She grumbled as she freed her feet out of the painful, yet pretty high heels when she reached the comfort of her own home. Shrugging her coat off, she relaxed as her ass hit the soft mattress of the couch.

“I need a date in seven weeks.” She said, making a mental note of the wedding date. This was the only wedding she ever looked forward to attending where she knew she wouldn't have to face the constant stream of questions involving her dating life and a particular man. All she ever wanted was to be with her close friend on the best day of her life.

“First dress fitting - tomorrow at 10.” Her phone lit up with an incoming text and groaning, she dropped her head backwards. Y/N couldn't even skip the wedding if she wanted to. She was one of the bridesmaids and it wouldn't be fair to both Meg and Cas, if she didn't attend it. A smile graced her frowning face when she remembered the time Cas proposed to her friend on Valentine's Day. Cliche- Y/N would say, but deep down, she knew she just wanted what Cas and Meg had.

A sigh left her lips as she got up, still in her work clothes. She put on some light music as she went into the bathroom to freshen up. After the long, tiring day she had, a warm bath and a Ryan Gosling movie were very much needed. Quickly stripping off, she stepped into the tub. She leaned her head backwards, closing her eyes, as the warm water soothed her aching body and her troubled mind.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone,” Y/N sang along the song, slightly off tune but she didn't care, as she stepped out of the bathroom after some time. She let go of the towel wrapped around her body and stepped into a pair of comfortable pjs. Getting a box cold pizza out from her refrigerator, she turned up the volume of the music playing in her apartment.

“He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said,” Y/N yelled out the chorus when she started to heat up the pizza. Her private singing session, however, was cut short by a sudden knock on the door. She grudgingly pressed pause as she walked up to the door to find out the unwanted visitor.

“Excuse me- Ms L/N?” As soon as she opened the door, she was met by a very familiar, deep baritone that had been haunting her.

“Dean Winchester. And please, call me Y/N,” she breathed out. The formality in Dean’s voice made her cringe. Her eyes fell as she took in the man in front.

Dean had gotten rid of the dapper grey suit and slipped into a much laid back look. A black polo t-shirt fitted over his body and plain blue jeans hugging his bowlegs perfectly. The look on his face mirrored the one from the morning and Y/N wondered if he would look better with a smile on. Her train of thoughts were again rudely interrupted by the man speaking.

“I assume you're having somewhat of a casual evening,” Dean said, his hands waving to point at her pjs, making her suddenly self-conscious of her clothing state.

“Y-yeah. How may I help you?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“See, I moved in the apartment right beside you a few days ago, and I think you might have noticed sometime or the other that there are other people living in this building as well,” Dean said, his face not imparting any sort of emotions, “You might be having a casual evening but I can assure you that there's at least one person who is certainly not. Turn the music level down.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open at Dean’s words but she wasn't going to turn down the volume just because a man turned up at her door, asking her to do so. His words were sharp, but his tone was downright rude, and it was definitely not because he wasn't a morning person. The least he could have done was ask her nicely.

“Well, listen here pal, no one's having a problem, other than you. So you can go back to your room, put on some earplugs and do whatever the heck you were doing before you decided to make my day more awful,” Y/N said, taking a threatening stance with hands on her hips, a deep frown on her face.

“I'll file a noise complaint report against you.” Dean warned with his pointer finger right in front of her eyes.

“It's just music. Learn to appreciate the little things in life.” She said while rolling her eyes.

“I'm a very busy man and I got work to do, alright? And speaking about music, play something actually good like Zeppelin and people will personally come up to thank you. This song is not even a classic.” Dean spat back.

“Believe me or not, everyone is a Swiftie at heart.” She smirked with a sarcastic shrug. Dean’s lips twitched in anger as his face grew more rigid before he said, “If you don't lower the volume, expect a noise complaint report delivered with your newspaper tomorrow.” He walked away before Y/N had a chance to even think of a comeback.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean went inside his own apartment room right beside Y/N’s. She glared at the empty hallway before swinging her door shut and walked back to her room towards her amazon echo, turning the music down anyway. She couldn't risk getting a report filed against her, and the man appeared to be dead serious about what he threatened to do.

“Stupid Dean Winchester.” She grumbled.

Squinting at the clock, Y/N woke up the next morning to loud bangs on her door. 7:30 am, it read. Removing the covers, she immediately shivered when the cool air hit her bare legs.

Hair still a mess, she grabbed her robe from the nearby chair, putting it on along with her slippers before she warily made her way to the door. “Dean will be complaining now for sure.” She grumbled as she unlocked her door to reveal her friend standing on the other side in a dishevelled state, eyes red like a mad woman.

“Meg?” Her face scrunched up in confusion as the said woman shoved past her into her apartment. “You’re wearing your shirt inside out.” Y/N closed the door behind her as Meg took a seat on the couch.

“Can I have some water?” Y/N dumbfoundedly nodded at her friend’s request and went to her kitchen to retrieve a glassful. Handing the glass over to her, she sat down next to the brunette who gulped down the entire glass of water in one go. Setting the utensil down on the wooden coffee table in front, she turned towards Y/N with slightly glossy eyes as she spoke, “I don’t want to go and finalise the dresses.”

Her words elicited a laugh from Y/N before she said, “Okay, bridezilla, we can reschedule it. Cas should better watch out!” She chuckled out the last words.

“No, y-you don’t understand!” Meg grabbed her friend’s hands, surprising the latter, “I don’t want to try the dress on at all.” Y/N was utterly surprised over her friend's outburst.

“Honey, you have a wedding in less than two months.” Y/N cooed as a few drops of tears rolled down the bride-to-be’s cheeks. “Meg, talk to me. Did something happen between you two?”

The woman shook her head, letting the other lady in the room know that she didn't have to kick Cas’ ass to her relief, but it confused her even further. Since their engagement five months ago, Meg had been over the moon and had started planning every minute detail with high precision and finesse for her big day.

“What if I'm making a huge mistake?”

“Don’t put me in this position. You know how I am when it comes to-”

“But I need to know, and I trust you.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line before she said, “Cas is the best thing that has ever happened to you-”

“You barely even knew me when I started to go out with him. We have only been together for fifteen months - five of which I have spent being engaged to him. What if I regret this later?” Meg's words were correct. Y/N used to barely talk to her when she had started dating Cas, but all through those eighteen months, as she slowly got to know the pair well enough, she knew that they were clearly meant to be in it for the long haul.

“But I have never seen you regret your decision to be with Cas even once… so why start now?.” Y/N politely answered, her hands letting go of her distraught friend's iron-clad grasp and reaching out to soothe her.

“Sometimes even if you have been with your man for what feels like forever, marrying him might seem to be the worst decision you can ever make, but it doesn't matter how long you have been with him. When you know, you know. Follow your heart.” Meg looked up at her as she mulled her words over before speaking.

“I love him.” She said.

“Then go, be with him.” Y/N smiled. Crisis averted.

A smile started to appear on Meg’s tear stained face as her eyes twinkled with a suggestive glimmer in them. Fiddling with her sparkling ring, she said, “Dean’s good for you. Don't let him go.”

Y/N was taken aback by her friend's supposition. She sat up straight in her seat as heat crept up her neck. Her mind was stuck in a turmoil as she tried to come up with an appropriate response.

“He’s not-Dean is not-” She stuttered, the words got stuck in her throat when she tried to think of a decent excuse. Maybe, this was the universe giving her a chance to take back everything she had said before, but the disheartened look on her friend’s face made her rethink her decision. After all, a little white lie never hurt anybody. “Yeah, he is a good man.” Meg smiled as Y/N played her into the deception game once again.

“Will he be at the wedding?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Unless he is a figment of your imagination, ask him! I want to meet this certain Dean Winchester.” Meg giggled.

“I don’t have such vivid imaginations, Meg.” Y/N let out a nervous chuckle. She was now being given an ample amount of opportunities to tell the truth, then why was it so hard for her to deny everything she had said? Maybe she liked living in this utopian world where for once, no one deemed her as the broken, pathetic girl who failed to make a man stay. Maybe deep down, she wanted this damn lie to be true.

“I’ll ask him but you do know how men are about weddings.” She replied, having no knowledge of how to keep her end of the promise.

Chapter 3

Feedback is highly appreciated

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#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #au dean x reader #au dean winchester x reader #dean fanfics #dean fanfiction #spn fanfic #irresistibly yours

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klove0511 · 4 years

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The Angel With Nine Lives

Pairings: Sam/Castiel

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Summary: In the wake of Dean and Gadreel's departures, Sam and Cas return to the bunker to search for a way to track Metatron. When Castiel vanishes and a cat invites itself into the bunker to stay, however, Sam must figure out what has happened to his angel.

Fic on AO3

Art Masterpost (go give them some love!)

Huge thanks to my wonderful artist @dmsilvisart for their lovely art prompt and header! I had a ton of fun working on this project, and I have to say, I rather enjoy the story that came out of it. Also a big thank you to everyone that looked this over for me before posting--dmsilvisart, MTC5, and my ever-patient wife. It's definitely a better story thanks to your feedback. And thanks to @sastielbb for hosting this event!

If you like the art, go to the art masterpost and give dmsilvisart some love!

Fic under the cut

Dust flew as Sam opened another box in the storage room. Everything in here was unorganized, marginally controlled chaos. It seemed like the Men of Letters had received the two dozen boxes as a bulk shipment shortly before they were destroyed, and so no one had had the time to sort the new magical items. Everything had documentation somewhere, but whoever had packed the boxes clearly had his mind on other things because none of it was with its intended item.

Sam coughed and reached into the box. He hoped something in this room would be helpful in tracking angels, because he and Cas had scoured the rest of the bunker over the last week and come up with nothing useful.

Cas was upstairs retreading old ground in case they’d missed something, leaving Sam to sort and brood in peace.

He didn’t want to think about Dean or what Dean had done, but it was difficult to think of anything else. Instead of presenting Gadreel as an option, giving Sam the choice to choose to live, Dean had decided Sam couldn’t be trusted to make the “right” decision. Again. He honestly wasn’t sure if it was the mind rape or the lack of trust that hurt worst, but both had given him nightmare fuel for days, interspersed, of course, with memories of his own hands burning out Kevin’s eyes.

Sam pulled out several books on demons and set them aside, trying to divert his train of thought. It led down a dark path, one Castiel had already pulled him off once. ‘Nothing is worth losing you,’ he’d said. Sam couldn’t say he agreed, exactly, but he thought Cas had made the right call during the grace extraction. It was doubtful they would have had enough grace for the spell regardless, and then Sam would have died for nothing. The least he could do was make his death meaningful.

The box was empty, having contained only books. Several looked interesting and useful for hunting in general, but nothing appeared to be relevant to their current mission. He sighed and cracked open the next box, coughing and waving away the accompanying dust. Pausing before he dug into the contents, he took a moment to marvel at how remarkable it was that Castiel, angel of the Lord, could place such high value on the life of someone like Sam. He couldn’t have really meant what he’d said, right? Not literally. Then again, Cas was the most literal person Sam had ever met. The words ran through his mind again. ‘Nothing is worth losing you.’ It made Sam wonder, just a bit, if Cas could, if Cas did feel more for him than friendship, than brotherhood. If he might look at Sam the way Sam had seen him for years.

Sam pulled a statue of a veiled woman out of the box and frowned at it. The hair on his arms stood on end, and the air was heavy, like trying to breathe soup. The statue emanated power. The Men of Letters were usually good about properly packaging cursed objects—he’d found several curse boxes already and set them aside until he could find the documentation that went with them. Theoretically, that meant that whatever this thing was, it at least wasn’t cursed. He was placing it on the table beside the box when Castiel entered, and he turned to face the angel, statue still in hand.

“Did you find something?” Sam asked.

Castiel frowned at the stack of empty boxes in the corner and said, “Sam, when is the last time you ate?”

Sam shrugged. “This morning, I think. Why?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “What day is it?”

Sam looked at the angel, perplexed. “Tuesday. Cas, what’s going on?”

Cas sighed and glared at Sam. “It’s Wednesday morning. I assume you’ve been down here all night?”

Sam looked around at the piles of boxes. He didn’t feel like he’d spent a whole day in here, but it was always possible. He’d certainly gotten a lot done.

Cas pressed his lips into a line. “I’m going to the store. What food we have left has gone bad. Should I bother suggesting you rest in the meantime?”

One side of Sam’s mouth tugged upward into a fond smile. “You’re right. I’ll go grab a nap and a shower, then something to eat. Deal?”

Cas nodded and stalked away. Sam huffed a laugh. He didn’t try to annoy the angel, not like Dean did, but Cas was pretty adorable when he was irritated—like a disgruntled cat. His mother hen impression was pretty cute too. In any case, Cas was right. Sam checked his phone and confirmed he’d been awake nearly thirty hours. Finally setting the statue down, he went and crashed in his room. He was asleep almost instantly.

Four hours later, Sam’s stomach angrily grumbling woke him from a nightmare where he was being chased by a Lammasu—a winged lion he’d read about in some textbook somewhere but he’d been lucky enough to never encounter in person. He shook off the remnants of the dream and grabbed some food from the kitchen—Cas had obviously made it back from his grocery run at some point—then stopped for a quick shower before making his way back to the storeroom to keep working. He hadn’t seen Cas, but the bunker was big and it was easy to spend hours alone when there were only the two of them around. As he got back to work in the storeroom, Sam set an alarm on his phone so he wouldn’t work through the night again.

Barely an hour later, he heard a banging that seemed to be coming from the front door. Curious and wary, he went to open it, pulling his gun as he went.

He opened the door, leveling the gun at…nobody? Confused, he looked around, then down as alarmed meowing started. Sitting in front of the door and looking extremely put out was a Siamese cat with cream fur except where it darkened to a rich chocolate on its legs, ears, face and tail. It blinked stunning blue eyes at him and grew quiet as he slowly lowered his gun.

Baffled, he moved to close the door and return to his work when the cat darted inside, nearly tripping him on its way. It started its chatter again as it descended the stairs, and Sam could swear there was intelligence in its eyes as it stopped and looked at him with a quizzical head tilt from the doorway leading to the bedrooms, then padded away down the hall.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. Apparently he had a cat now. Dean was going to be pissed when he finally decided to come home.

Two days later, Sam stared at his phone, willing it to ring. Cas was missing and not answering his phone. After the third voicemail, Sam had made himself stop calling, busying himself with researching cats and purchasing supplies, but there were only so many catnip mice and string toys he could order before he remembered that his brother had betrayed and abandoned him and his best friend had vanished without a word. He’d noticed yesterday morning when the angel hadn’t appeared for his usual cup of coffee, but he honestly wasn’t sure how long the angel had been gone. He hadn’t seen Cas since he’d left for the grocery store. The fresh food meant he’d returned, but there was no sign of when he’d left again.

The cat had made itself at home in the meantime, mostly following Sam around and staring at him with its unsettling gaze or meowing loudly at him when he didn’t go to bed at a reasonable time. It was an affectionate thing, though, always purring at the slightest touch from Sam and pushing its head under his hand. In fact, it knocked Sam out of his reverie by jumping onto the seat next to him and head butting his arm. Sam idly reached down to scratch behind its ears as he decided to try Cas one more time.

Pressing the phone to his ear as he waited for it to connect, he absently stroked the soft fur next to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Cas’s phone ringing. Looking around for the source, he realized after a moment that the cat was ringing. Sam sat, frozen, glancing between the ringing cat and his phone. The cat rolled its eyes, then mashed a paw against Sam’s phone, ending the call. It just looked at him before giving him an exasperated meow.

“Cas?” Sam whispered.

The cat chirped and trilled, arching its back before slamming its head into Sam’s side.

Sam was bewildered. Of all the crazy things that had happened to them, this might be the weirdest. Even that time Dean had sort of turned into a dog he hadn’t literally turned into a dog. He knew Cas wasn’t going to be able to answer him, but he had to ask. “Cas, how did you get turned into a cat?”

Cas could not figure out what had happened. He was certainly not a cat, but Sam persisted in his assertion that he was. Sam was not ill or hallucinating, as Castiel had checked—several times, in fact. The only other feasible explanation was that there was magic at work. But who would bespell an item to make one perceive others as felines?

His research into tracking Gadreel and Metatron was going to have to wait until he fixed whatever had happened to Sam, who was out searching for leads he was certainly not going to find. Cas sat at one of the library tables, surrounded by books on illusion magic, and he stared at his phone. Dean would want to know his brother was under the influence of a spell. He’d be angry if he found out something had happened to Sam, but he would be furious if he didn’t hear it from Castiel. Still, if Castiel could fix whatever was wrong before Dean found out, then he would never need to know. He was sure Sam would prefer that option, though Sam was still unaware that he was the one under the influence of magic.

The angel still hesitated, thumb hovering over Dean’s name. No. He would fix this. Dean would be angry if he found out, but Sam would never forgive him. Not now, when the human was already so vulnerable. As Sam had said, they got this.

Sighing, Cas pocketed his phone and pulled one of the books toward him. Sam would be unable to help research this, so Cas ought to get started. He tried not to think about how good Sam’s hand had felt ruffling his hair before he’d realized it was Cas he was petting.

Sam was exhausted. He’d canvassed half of Lebanon trying to figure out what had happened to Cas. No one had seen anything suspicious, though several people remembered the “handsome man in a trench coat.” Two had inquired about whether Cas was single, and three had told him they hoped he found his boyfriend soon. Sam wasn’t sure what had given them that particular impression, but he didn’t question it. People thought he and Dean were a couple all the time.

His next step was searching news outlets for anything that sounded like witches or cursed objects, his two leading theories at the moment. If that yielded nothing, then it was time to hit the books again.

Three days and four failed spells later, even Sam could admit he was running himself into the ground. He could scarcely protest when Cas decided to lay across the books he was reading (rereading), effectively interrupting his research. The angel twitched his tail and released a low grumble when Sam attempted to dislodge him. Admitting defeat, Sam raised his hands in surrender and pushed back his chair.

“You’re right; I need a break. I’m going to go watch a movie or something in my room. You want to join me?” At least Castiel could still understand him, though he missed the sound of the angel’s voice.

Cas tilted his head in a manner so familiar, Sam almost laughed. Then he hopped off the table and trotted past Sam, briefly turning and waiting at the entrance to the library. Sam grinned and followed the cat to his room.

Castiel was glad Sam had decided to spend the evening relaxing, but he was unclear on the social protocol of where he should sit now that Sam perceived him as feline. Normally, he would use the desk chair in Sam’s room, but for reasons he could not articulate he found himself reluctant to sit so far away. Perhaps it had something to do with how much Sam had begun touching him the last few days. Even now that he was aware that the “cat” was Castiel, Sam seemed to instinctively want to reach out and pet, running his hand through Castiel’s hair or down his back. At one point he had hoped that the spell would be unable to resolve the impossibilities that physically touching created—he was, after all, decidedly NOT covered in fur—but that hope had been dashed days ago. Still, he was enjoying the proximity to one of his favorite humans and wished for it to continue.

Sam ultimately settled the matter for him by patting the bed next to his leg, inviting the angel to join him. Castiel hesitated a moment longer, knowing that Sam was unaware of just how little space there would be on the bed with both of them there and wondering if indulging himself was strictly ethical in this case. Then, he decided that he ought to take the invitation at face value and settled himself shoulder to shoulder with Sam.

A few minutes into the movie (Castiel had not bothered to pay attention to the title. There were people doing illogical things and very few explosions) Sam began absently stroking Cas’s leg alarmingly near his groin. The angel whined in a most undignified way as arousal jolted through him, and he wondered what noise Sam had heard because he has immediately snatched his hand away as though burned.

“Sorry,” Sam said. “I don’t—I wasn’t thinking.” He held himself stiffly, staring at his hands in his lap and picking at one of his cuticles.

Cas’s inability to communicate with Sam had never been more frustrating. Worse was that he had no idea how the spell would interpret anything he said or did. Still, he had to try. Seeing Sam look so guilty was heartbreaking. He liked when Sam touched him. In theory, that ought to be simple enough to communicate. Gently, he lifted Sam’s hand and replaced it on his leg.

Sam stared at his hand for a moment, then began to stroke again. Castiel sighed in contentment. Sam looked surprised, then pleased.

Sam looked at the purring cat draped across his lap. He may have no idea how to turn Cas back, but he would figure it out. In the meantime, he could let himself enjoy this. Words seemed to get in the way so often, and with Cas in this form, well, things seemed easier. He kept petting Cas on accident, which would have been a problem if the angel didn’t seem to like it so much. Sam, for his part, was enjoying the physical contact more than he wanted to admit. He hadn’t had much of that in the last couple years.

Closing his eyes, he listened to the movie drone on while he relished the warmth of the cat on his lap. The soft rumble of Cas’s purring stirred something Sam hadn’t felt in a long time. So long, in fact, that he had trouble identifying it, but he thought it might be happiness. As he ran his fingers over the soft fur, he wondered if Cas would also enjoy an evening like this in his usual form.

Cas read the spell description for the fourth time. It had taken days, but he had finally found a document in that chaotic storeroom Sam had been unpacking that seemed to explain Sam’s affliction. It was a spell of true sight, designed to help one describe their feelings for another. A magical metaphor, as it were. A naïve young witch had cast the spell on a statue, a gift for her beloved, and it had bounced from owner to owner, wreaking havoc until the Men of Letters confiscated it. Castiel had found his answer. He just wasn’t sure he liked what it implied.

Many had denigrated his relationship with the Winchesters over the years. Mostly angels, but Crowley and others too. He’d even heard himself referred to as the Winchesters’ pet on occasion. He had simply never thought Sam thought of him that way. He’d certainly never expressed such a feeling in Castiel’s presence.

It was painful, realizing his affection for the younger Winchester was one-sided, but it didn’t change anything. He would figure out how to break the spell on Sam, then he would go find Gadreel and Metatron. Find a way to make them pay. He would take what affection he could get, even if it was just as a faithful pet.

Sam stared down at the spell bowl in disbelief. That should have worked. He’d been sure this time. He’d finally found a spell claiming to dispel all transformation magic. It had been powerful but surprisingly simple. He hadn’t screwed it up. Which meant Cas was probably going to be stuck in this form forever.

He sank into his chair, resting his head in his hands. This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t losing the only friend he had left to a stupid spell. Not when ‘Nothing is worth losing you’ kept ringing through his head. Sam wasn’t so sure about himself, but nothing was worth losing Cas.

As if on cue, the cat angel hopped up on the table and headbutted him. Sam automatically began to pet him and scratch behind the ears. It was soothing, and so was Castiel’s quiet, rumbling purr. Unfortunately, it was also a reminder of Sam’s most recent failure. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t give up. That’s not what they did. That’s not what he did. There was an answer out there, somewhere. It just obviously wasn’t in the Men of Letters library. He tried not to think about how that significantly lengthened the odds of his finding a way to save Cas.

Running his hand down the length of the cat’s back, making Cas arch up into his touch, Sam pushed himself away from the table. “Come on. Time for bed.”

Settled in Sam’s room as they’d done every night for the last four days, with Cas pressed up against his leg and purring contentedly, Sam couldn’t help murmuring, “You really do make a fantastic cat, Cas.”

The purring stopped, and Cas lifted his head to look at Sam, wide blue eyes unblinking.

“I mean it,” Sam said. “I read that scientists think they domesticated themselves, just decided they liked people and moved in. And they’re all tiny badasses, stupidly brave even in the face of an overwhelming threat. I must’ve watched a dozen videos this week of cats chasing off bears, snakes, even an alligator once. They’re incredible, just like you.” Sam smiled fondly, then sighed, picking at an abused cuticle. “Look, I know this sucks, but I promise I’m not going to let you be stuck like this. Cats are awesome, and you are such a cat, but you are so, so much more than a house pet.”

Sam blinked, and suddenly his bed was much more crowded. Their bodies were pressed together in a long line from shoulder to knee, and Sam’s hand was resting remarkably high on Castiel’s thigh. Cas blinked up at him, a dopey, pleased smile on his face. Sam was proud of himself for not startling so badly that he fell off the bed.

“Cas? What the hell?”

Confusion flashed across the angel’s face, then his expression grew serious. “Sam? Can you see me?”

“I could always see you.”

Cas glared minutely. “But now you see me, not a cat. You can understand me.”

Sam nodded, still trying to figure out what had broken the spell—a delayed reaction from his spell, maybe?

Cas ended up explaining but made no move to leave Sam’s personal space. Sam, for his part, was still too stunned to trust his legs.

“So, you’ve been sleeping in my bed like this the whole time?” Sam said.

“You seemed to enjoy my presence.” Cas was matter-of-fact, unapologetic, and it made something flip-flop in Sam’s chest.

He grinned. “I did. I do, but, Cas, this bed isn’t really big enough for both of us.”

“Oh.” Cas frowned, doubt and insecurity playing over his face for the first time in the conversation. Awkwardly, he began to roll away until Sam snagged his wrist.

“Maybe tomorrow we can get me a bigger bed?” Sam said cautiously. He wasn’t sure Cas would understand what he was proposing, if it was even something an angel could want with someone like him, but he was feeling brave.

Confusion flicked across Cas’s face before understanding dawned. “Oh. I would like that very much.”

Sam smiled. “Right. Good.”

Cas shifted awkwardly again. “What, um, what would you like me to do tonight?”

Sam looked at their feet, how they barely fit side by side on the small bed. He imagined, for a moment, what it would be like without the warm line at his back that he’d been enjoying for days without really thinking about it. More comfortable, probably, but oh so lonely. “Stay. If you want. I’d—I’d like it if you stayed.” He hoped he hadn’t sounded too desperate.

Joy lit up his angel’s face as he replied, “I would like that very much, too.”

#sastiel #sastiel reversebang 2019 #pre-slash #fic i wrote #fluff #light angst #magical transformation #cursed object #case fic #season 9

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destielthedeathofme · 6 years

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Shattering Glass

Prompt: Its like a business thing with Dean as Castiel's assistant.

Tags/Genre: CEO Cas, PA Dean, Fluff, Oneshot, Cliche, Not 50 Shades Of Gray, I hope,

Warnings: I cuss like a sailor bitches

Summary: Dean didn't ever think this would happen.

A/n: This might be a two shot.

~♡~

Dean winced as his head landed with a thud on the keyboard. Eyes fluttering open at the sudden movement, that was probably the closest to sleep he'd been in ages.

10:00

It was 10 fucking PM and his boss hadn't left the office yet, meaning Dean couldn't either. An unspoken rule within their relationship. Glancing around the empty room Dean sighed, everyone had gone home but him. Typical.

Castiel Novak CEO of Garrison Enterprises wasn't known for his kindness rather his temper. Dean could remember the way he practically shrunk during the interview due to Castiel's piercing gaze. The fact that his boss was practically the hottest person in the business industry didn't help either. Dean was used to interviews with cranky old men well past 40, but Castiel was as young as ever. Dean still didn't know if that was a good thing yet. Hair damp from a shower and suit fitted to perfection, the man had sat in perfect posture eyeing Dean like he was some sort of meal. Despite his ogling and stuttering,somehow, he still managed to get the job. Dean hoped to get to know Castiel better, but he hadn't even achieved the first name basis after over a month of working for him. At least he knew how the guy liked his coffee, that had to count for something right? Along with a crush that's all that Dean's gotten from this job. He was fresh out of corny jokes to make, the closest he'd gotten was Castiel's lips curving upward, that shut down very quickly. None of his smirks or winks were working on Castiel Novak and he was not happy. But he was done with the bullshit, Dean had a life damnit. One that consisted of not much more than Baby, booze and his brother. But it was still a life and one that Dean intended on living.

Mustering up all the courage he had, Dean marched down to his boss's office, determined to actually be able to get at least 5 hours of sleep tonight. Which would be a blessing really.

Dean opened the door, suddenly regretting the amount of force he put into that because the door banged a little too loudly for his sleep deprived ears.

Castiel had been hunched over a stack of papers that Dean debated putting through as shredder but nonetheless refrained. But now, his eyes were fixed on Dean, confusion clouding his face. Tie loosened, hair astray he looked perfect somehow. Just the perfect bachelor CEO that Times needed. Sam had fangirled so hard when he found out, Dean debated on crushing his dreams and telling Sam that the guy was an asshole but he decided against it.

"Dean, what are you-"

"I'm leaving."

"Pardon?"

Dean grit his teeth and smiled tightly ,"You know what? I'll explain this the way I would your schedule for the day because that's the language you business freaks speak in. It's 10 PM, I live almost and hour away. If I get home at 11, I'll be in bed by 12. And that gives me 6 hours of sleep before I have to haul my ass to this hell. So please let me go, because I'm in need of at least 5 hours of sleep."

Dean almost ran out of the room, wondering if he would get fired or not. That was the most they've conversed after the interview, Castiel was more of a email guy. But instead of the pure I'm-going-to-throw-a-shit-fit face, one he was accustomed to Castiel gave him an amused look. He eyed the glass surrounding him, if he made a run for it, Dean would probably still make it.

"I was going to ask what you're doing here? Everyone else left."

Dean stared at him in shock, that wasn't what he prepared himself for. He expected raging fury, getting fired, possibly some shattering of expensive stuff that his billionaire boss didn't need.

*Flashback to Christmas*

Dean bounced his way into his cubicle, not even caring that he was 15 minutes late to work, it was freaking 1 day away from Christmas. He had the fucking right. It was bad enough that he was being forced to work, but if his boss showed even a bit of an attitude Dean would so quit. He hoped that Castiel would have the Christmas Spirit.

Dean busied himself in emails when he realized that he'd forgotten to get Castiel coffee. Shit, he was so screwed.

Dean bolted out of his chair and ran to the small coffe shop right around the corner and ordered whatever dose of caffeine he could find. Peppermint Mocha? Whatever as long as his boss had the daily dose of caffeine he needed, Dean would be safe, right?

Speed walking to Castiel's office, Dean burst into the room, "I'm so sorry Cas, I completely forgot about your coffee."

Castiel was not in a good mood. He could tell by the cloud of emotions on his face, Dean memorized every expression on Castiel's face. The slight jut of his chin, or the way his eyebrows furrowed. Hell, he could tell by the sound of his footsteps if Cas was in a good mood or not.

Dean set the coffee down slowly, not realizing his mistake.

"What did you call me?"

"Uh Cas?" Dean had overheard Castiel's much more pleasurable brother call him Cassie and he assumed Cas was alright. It was, wasn't it?

"It's Mr. Novak to you, I'm your boss."

So much for the Christmas Spirit, the guy must be the grinch himself. Nah, he's too good looking, argued Dean's mind which he begrudgingly agreed to.

Dean almost fucking resigned right then and there, what was the guy's problem? Most people called their bosses' by their first name right?

Castiel drank the coffee, which he then spewed all over the office.

"What the hell is this?"

"Peppermint Mocha?" Dean said weakly.

"Get the fuck out, and type up the rest of the manuscripts while you're at it."

"Ok." Dean had to bite his tongue from giving the asshole a piece of his mind.

He almost cried, there was at least 60 copies left, he'd be here till Christmas day. But like a savior, Charlie helped him through it, and he smirked up at Cas before popping his head through the door and saying,"I'm done bye!"

Dean however heard a lot of shattering that day, needless to say he didn't ever dare repeat any of the things he did that day. He never called Castiel, Cas and only addressed him as boss, which thankfully he didn't mind. And Dean wouldn't even go within a 5 mile radius of Peppermint Mocha.

*end of flashback*

"Balthazar said- He said that I can only leave when you do!" Dean said incredulously. Everyone at the office told him that, some cruel prank probably now that he thinks of it.

Castiel let out a small chuckle, a sound Dean was most definitely not accustomed to. Dean stood there gaping like a fish. Was this the same man who fired people with the snap of his fingers. The same one who stormed out of meetings? Holy shit, Dean had to be dreaming.

"You know what, let me drop you home, it's the least I can do." Castiel said gathering his things and getting up.

Dean stumbled a bit but muttered out a yes, partly because he didnt have a ride. On a side note, Dean Winchetser never thought he would have to say that in his life ever, him not having a ride, absolute bullshit. But Baby was in need of some fine tuning and working out her kinks soothed Dean, especially after grueling work hours. And partly because he was still too dazed to refuse.

Within moments they were in Castiel's silver Lexus, Dean still not over the past 15 minutes of his life. He half expected there to be a driver, but Cas drove himself which surprised Dean.

"Did you eat?"

"Hm?"

"I asked if you had eaten anything? It's awfully late, why don't I buy you dinner?"

Dean snapped himself out of whatever this was and ignored the stabbing pain his stomach from hunger. He could hardly believe he was in Castiel Novak's car, much less being invited to dinner by him.

"No I'm good."

"Dean, I insist, you didn't eat lunch either." Castiel gave him a meaningful glance.

How the hell did he know that?

"No, really, I had a s-salad, yeah I had a salad."

He did not eat a fucking salad. Rabbit food ain't his cup of tea. But it was the only food that came to his mind then, so he used it for his horrible lie.

"I thought you hated salads."

How did he know that too? What the fuck was this guy a stalker? Maybe he should have done more research than scouring through tabloids on his boss. For starters, Castiel was fucking bipolar. And actually cared? Since when did he care? Not for the past month and a half alright. But Dean cared. Probably too much, but he made sure Castiel ate for the past month, refusing for him to even miss a meal or meeting.

Dean realized they were pulling up to a restaraunt much too late, as Castiel already parked the car. He wanted to protest, but his stomach disagreed growling loudly. Dean gave Castiel a sheepish look as Castiel glared at him.

The restaurant had the you'd-probably-go-into-debt-if-you-ate-here vibe, but Dean supposed that was normal for a billionaire. He wondered if he'd even managed to grab his wallet, in his dazed state.

The place was dim lit and was practically empty, probably because it was close to 11 and the people who could actually afford to eat here, were tucked into bed. Silver spoon in their mouths, Dean thought bitterly. He was anything but rich, he grew up far worse than he was now though. So Dean was grateful for the little things, the most expensive thing he owned being Baby. But he was content, he had a job, a roof over his head, and food on his table. And most importantly, Dean could pay for Sam's school. He didn't care if he had to skip a meal, as long as Sammy was in school. But his landlord seemed intent in kicking him out, stating that he was out at odd hours and made up a bunch of crap about his rent. Whatever, what's the worst that could happen?

Castiel began ordering and Dean wondered why the staff looked so nervous. Other than the flirty glances from waitresses, everyone else looked like they were going to start crying any moment.

Dean settled on a good old fashioned steak while Cas ordered something that required much to many brain cells and syllables for him to comprehend.

He was surprised at how natural it all felt, just having dinner with Cas, even though situation was anything but. If anyone told Dean this was going to happen an hour ago, Dean would have laughed and thrown the person into a mental hospital.

Dean groaned in satisfaction as he tasted the meatloaf, which was cooked amazingly. He was starving, and this meatloaf tasted like heaven. But he didn't miss the weird look Cas gave him, like Dean was doing something wrong. He flushed at Castiel's eyes that were burning his soul at the moment, he could never get used to those eyes. It's the eyes. They're the reason why Dean's smitten. As if he wasn't attractive enough, he managed to have the bluest eyes in the universe. After Dean finished up his meal, Castiel and him walked out of the restaraunt.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why did everyone there look like they're going to have a panic attack, and why didn't you pay?"

"Oh sweetheart, I own the restaraunt."

Dean flushed once again in embarrassment, of course he did. He didn't flush because of the "sweetheart" part, not at all.

"Oh."

Castiel let out a chuckle, which Dean was tempted to record because no one would believe him if they said that Castiel Novak was capable of anything more than a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Dean was soon curled up in the Lexus, tempted to fall asleep, but wouldn't allow himself to. Castiel thankfully knew the way to Dean's apartment, something he'd look more into when he wasn't drowsy. And if he had a problem with the neighborhood that Dean lived in, Cas didn't show it. He felt someone shaking him as soon as he closed his eyes, which was only for a minute.

"We're here."

Dean fumbled for his keys before realizing that he didn't have them with him, his keys forgotten at his office. Add a landlord that already hated Dean for not paying the rent on time to the mix, he had no way of getting into his apartment. Dean glanced back at Castiel's car which didn't move from it's spot, as if he was waiting for Dean to go in. Shit. How would he play this off? He could crash at Bobby's but they lived much too far away for Dean to walk there, he suddenly felt the lack of Baby in his life overwhelming. Dean silently vowed to finish working in her tomorrow.

Dean noticed the little yellow card on his door and read the note cursing at his shitty landlord. He had to pay the rent by tomorrow, even though he was supposed to have a week left. He couldn't make that kind of money in a week. He cursed at himself too, for choosing such a lavish apartment when he could've settled for much less.

Cas got out of his car and walked to Dean his face showing a hint of worry,

"Why aren't you going in?"

"I don't have my keys and I'm pretty sure I'm going to get kicked out of here ."

"Ah, I see."

Dean cringed at the situation he was in. There was no way out other than asking Castiel for help again. Oh, if he just refused the ride.

"You could stay with me."

"What?"

"You could stay with me for as long as you need, till you're back on your feet again."

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #castiel #i love him #cas #destiel #oneshot #destielthedeathofme #fluff #otp #writing prompts #prompts #writing #idk #i hope yall like #i kinda like it

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movietvtechgeeks · 6 years

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Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/therapy-winchester-style-supernatural-big-empty/

Therapy, Winchester Style – 'Supernatural' ‘The Big Empty’

There are two stories running in Supernatural's ‘The Big Empty,' both of them dealing with emptiness, either literal or metaphorical. There’s Dean and Sam, struggling with the emptiness left behind by too many losses and taking it out on each other (and Jack – who is also struggling with the emptiness of being orphaned and now knowing who you are). And there’s the literal Big Empty, where Castiel awakened at the end of last episode to find himself alone. When this episode starts, however, Cas finds himself alone no longer. There’s an entity there with him that has his face and form, but it’s not exactly good company. In fact, it’s pissed as hell that when Cas woke up, he did too. The Empty is apparently the place where angels and demons go when they die, and they pretty much just slumber there, which means the Entity can slumber too. He loves sleep almost as much as I do, and that’s really saying something. That Castiel is now keeping him from his cherished sleep is making the Entity very cranky – which he takes out on Cas with a lot of physical abuse. Ouch. Supernatural has played with characters confronting different versions of themselves before – Dean confronting future!Dean in ‘The End’ memorably comes to mind – so Cas confronting Entity!Cas isn’t unprecedented. I was caught off guard, though, by the way Misha Collins plays the other version. Because he’s very very different! I wasn’t sure whether to laugh at Entity!Cas or be chilled by him, or maybe a little bit of both. He seemed to have a little bit of Alastair and a little bit of Zachariah and possibly a little bit of Balthazar in him too. He almost seems friendly, or at least amusing, until he punches you in the stomach. Again, ouch. I feel like Misha probably had a field day playing Entity!Cas, who’s different than any other version. Misha has had a lot of opportunity to stretch himself as an actor even though he’s been playing the same character for so many seasons, because there have been so many versions of Castiel. Human Cas (one of my favorites), original badass Cas (my absolute favorite), Leviathan!Cas, Lucifer!Cas aka Casifer, powered down Cas, etc etc. And now Entity!Cas. Misha has a gift for accents, and this one is just over the top enough to be creepy. I had to admire Castiel’s courage and his refusal to just lay down and go back to sleep, even when the Entity tries to convince him that his life on earth basically sucked. He’s determined to hold out and keep trying, for both the Winchesters’ sake and I’m assuming also for Jack, who he promised to take care of. And I have to admire Misha’s ability to portray two characters who both look like him, and yet he makes them easy to tell apart, even without sound – they have different expressions, different mannerisms, convey different emotions. Even in a screencap, you can tell. And that’s good acting. I can’t wait to hear the behind the scenes tales of filming those scenes because it’s got to be challenging to be playing off “yourself.” So there’s Castiel, dealing with The Big Empty and trying to get back to help Sam and Dean. The other aching emptiness in the episode is psychological. And what do you do when you’ve got aching psychological emptiness to deal with? Why you go to a psychologist, of course! I always worry a little when Show goes there, since in real life I’m a psychologist – but in this episode, I kinda loved the therapist they chose. They chose her because two of her clients have turned up dead, seemingly killed by their deceased loved ones – or something that looked like them. Turns out the doc is indeed a shapeshifter, but she’s also a pretty damn good therapist. It doesn’t take a PhD at this point to figure out that Sam and Dean aren’t exactly getting along, or that Jack (their “younger brother”) is depressed and longing for his “big brothers” approval. She calls Dean on his B.S. – and so does Sam. The therapy session is fascinating because, while the Winchesters are ostensibly playing a part, nevertheless there’s a great deal of truth that makes its way into that room. The therapist immediately knows that they’ve lost someone. Jack: My mom. Oh Jack, sweetie. Dean admonishes him to be quiet unless spoken to, calling him “Mr. Spock” – which only served to emphasize his similarity to Castiel – but Jack’s loss is so uppermost in his mind, he couldn’t help but blurt it out. Doc: You lost your mom suddenly? Sam: Yeah. And ain’t that the truth! Both times. Doc: Did you ever journal? Sam: (telling the truth again) Our dad did. Doc: Dean? Dean: (snidely, defenses all up) Ever since I was a little girl… Dean’s response is so telling, pure defensiveness and trying to deflect by being obnoxious on top of it. Sam however, is not having it. Sam: My brother, he’s not processing his grief. Dean: (looking shocked that Sam actually went there, because it’s clear he’s no longer play acting) Really? No, I’m good -- with death, closure, the whole friggen bottle of Jack… Sam: Are you? Dean: (lashing out) Yeah, because I know that mom’s dead and I know that she’s not coming back! Sam: Ok I hear what you’re saying, I just wish… The doc cuts him off, but it’s fairly clear to the viewer that Sam was once again about to say something real. Maybe even ask his brother for what he needs from him. Dean can hear it too, and he full on panics, lashing out again. Dean: My brother’s delusional. (To Sam’s shocked look) You said you wanted to give this a shot, right? He won’t even admit that mom’s dead! Sam: (clearly hurt) Stop. Dean: Because if he admits it, then it’s real and he’ll have to deal. And he can’t handle that! Sam: Oh, because this is so easy for you right? Dean: No, it’s not easy… Sam: (barreling on) Because at least you had a relationship with Mom! I mean, who did she always call? Who did she look to for everything? Dean: Okay… Sam: You had something with her that I never had! And now I’m just supposed to accept that I never will have it?! Sam storms out, and I reach for my box of tissues. Oh, Sam. It’s so true. He has gotten the raw end of the deal when it comes to his mother, every single time. I feel so much for Sam Winchester in that moment. Dean turns to his flask, but the doctor doesn’t cut him a break either. She tells him she can see that he’s angry, and that’s his business if he wants to hang onto it. But meanwhile, he’s taking it out on everyone around him. Jack, who she points out is terrified of him. And most of all, Sam. As much as Dean doesn’t want to hear it, he needs to. She’s a damn good therapist, and Dean starts to get a clue. When Sam asks him to take Jack with him to go check out a suspect, Dean only protests a little, and then gives in. But before that, Sam realizes the therapist really is a shapeshifter, thanks to the bloody mess in the upstairs bathroom, which means we get to see badass Winchesters pull their guns. While Dean and Jack are gone, Sam chats with the shapeshifting doc and figures out who the bad shifter is. He leaves to go confront him without even calling his brother. Dean: Sam didn’t call me? Doc: Can you blame him? Ouch. Are you getting a clue now, Dean? Rukiya Bernard did an amazing job as the shapeshifting doctor. Even though we only met her in this episode, Bernard invested her with so much emotion and so much passion that I was rooting for her, screaming at the Winchesters not to shoot her. She was a noble character, an example of a “monster” who is not only trying not to do “bad” but actively trying to do “good.” And Bernard sold that 1000%. And another person of color and another heroic kickass woman added to the Show. I hope somebody out there is giving Supernatural some credit, because they are clearly trying – and giving us amazing characters in the process! The other great thing about the doc being a shapeshifter is it allows Jack some closure, and some of the understanding about himself that he’s so desperate for. She helps people with complicated grief, who didn’t get closure after a loved one’s death, finally say goodbye – even if it’s actually to the shapeshifter in the form of their lost loved one. Jack asks her to do that for him, which gives us the return of Kelly Kline (sorta – of Courtney Ford at any rate). She holds Jack, gives him that hug and that reassurance that he so needs. She mothers him, and it makes me cry to see it, because he needs it so desperately. She also doesn’t placate him with “you’re not a monster” – instead she reassures him that it’s not what you are, it’s what you DO. Kelly Shifter: And even monsters can do good in this world. We’ve heard Sam Winchester tell this to “monsters” before, that it’s their choice – just like it was Sam’s choice too. Demon blood didn’t define him; he’s a big damn hero because he chose that. Kelly tells Jack that he too has a choice. Courtney Ford tweeted a behind the scenes photo of her and Alex and said that the “Kelly part of my heart” needed that. I love that all the actors on this show are so invested in their characters, that she also felt she needed that bit of closure. [caption id="attachment_50778" align="aligncenter" width="606"] Photo: Courtney Ford[/caption] Alex Calvert once again did a bang up job portraying Jack’s longing for Sam and Dean’s (especially Dean’s) approval, and his intense grief over the loss of his mother. Thanks to Calvert’s acting and the amazing writing this season (this time by Meredith Glynn), we see Jack as quintessentially human. He shows us Jack’s emotions so vividly that there can be no doubt – and thus he has all my empathy. ‘The Big Empty’ was all about loss, especially mother loss. Jack and Kelly, Sam and Dean and Mary. Samantha Smith (Mary) was not in this episode, but it was all about her anyway. The ways in which she shaped her sons’ lives, by her loss when they were young and by her interaction with them when she came back, and by her loss once again. Interestingly, the episode aired on the anniversary of the night that Mary Winchester died, burnt to death on the ceiling of Sam’s nursery. How fitting that it was the night Sam started to come to terms with all he’s lost – and all he’s never had – when it comes to his mother. And Dean for the first time started to understand the depth of his little brother’s loss and longing. I have gushed over Meredith Glynn’s writing before (including in person because she came to the book launch party for Family Don’t End With Blood and I sorta fangirled over her – okay, not sorta…) But I have to gush some more here. What I’m loving so much about this season, and what was so very evident in this episode, is that Sam and Dean are back to being Sam and Dean. Brothers. They’re talking, and not just about the weather or if the bunker needs supplies. They’re expressing their feelings to each other, and they’re prioritizing each other in the way that Sam and Dean do, the way that made me fall for this show in the first place. Their argument about Mary being dead in the beginning of the episode was so hard to watch. Especially Sam’s soft spoken “So you want to move on from Mom?” And Dean can’t even say it, can’t even let himself go there. He’s caged in, cut off by his defenses, as this brilliant shot shows. Dean: Right now I wanna go kill some guy’s dead wife. When Sam suggests they take Jack along, at first Dean is adamant that the answer is no. Then Sam pulls out the big guns. Sam: Do it for me? Dean’s utter inability to say no when Sam says “for me,” this is the show I fell in love with. You can see the effect that has on Dean. He can’t not say yes, not when Sam is asking that way. And Sam KNOWS it. That special bond that they have is right there on my tv screen, and god damn that makes me happy. This episode showed a great deal of evolution in Dean’s relationship with Jack, which I welcomed because it’s been breaking my heart to see Dean keep hurting Jack. We also got more of Sam being absolutely wonderful as a father figure to Jack. Instead of secrets and lies, we get Jack telling Sam that he heard Dean’s accusation that Sam is just using him (thank you Meredith Glynn!) And miracle of miracles, Sam does not get defensive or try to deflect. Instead, he sits down and explains to Jack that what Dean said is partly true, and confesses that he should have been more honest with Jack about that part. He explains that they are trying to save their mom, and if there’s one thing that Jack understands, it’s the pain of losing your mother. Sam’s honesty and his willingness to actually talk it through with Jack make all the difference. Jack understands and believes that Sam can both care about him and also hope that Jack can be useful in saving Mary. It’s amazing what can be accomplished with actual open communication, isn’t it, Show? I love that Sam once again has the guts to actually apologize to Jack. And it just about broke my heart how hopeful Jack looked when Sam said that the way to impress Dean is with effort - and how crestfallen he is every time it doesn’t work. Dean and Sam take Jack along, and though Dean gruffly tells him to ‘Sit. Stay’ ie wait in the car; Jack is eager to help and disobeys. That gives Sam an opportunity to instruct him in the ways of EMF meters while Dean rolls his eyes, which is all kinds of adorable. Even Dean has to admit that Jack’s helpful in digging up graves. Did they really let him do that all by himself?? Jack also helpfully fetches the boys’ lunch, which gave Jensen Ackles a chance to mess with him as they filmed the hotdog eating scene. How Alex and Jared didn’t break repeatedly is a mystery to me – actually, they probably did. Repeatedly. Jack, following Sam’s example (A+ parent, that Sam Winchester!) then tells Dean that he and Sam talked, and that he understands that they need him to try to save their mother. Dean may not be ready to get on board, but it’s clear he’s both surprised by all that honesty and starting to question his snap judgment of Jack just a little. The real evolution comes after Buddy the bad shifter almost kills Dean and Jack – and then almost kills Sam. First, we get a moment with Shifter!Dean, which gives Jensen Ackles a chance to play bad guy for a minute, and it’s probably a lot hotter than it should be. Like a glimpse of Demon!Dean that I didn’t get anywhere near enough of. Shifter dean: Well that was too friggen easy. With Dean tied up and helpless and the bad guy’s gun aimed at his unsuspecting “baby brother,” Dean is frantic and asks Jack to help. Dean: Sam believes in you. And when he believes, he’ll go hell for leather. I don’t even know what that means, but it sounded really good in that moment. Dean also gets to see the Shifter Doc offer to sacrifice herself to save him and Jack, another emphasis to the “it’s not what you are, but what you do” idea that contributes to Dean’s eventual change of heart about Jack. Or at least the first glimmer of one. When Jack manages to tap into his powers and Sam is saved, that’s the turning point for Dean. (Also, how awesome was it that the shifter had been Dean, so he calls Sam ‘baby brother’? Very. Thank you, Meredith Glynn!) Jack saving Sam? There is nothing in the world that Dean Winchester values more. Save his little brother, and you just gained about a billion brownie points in Dean’s book. I sobbed through the scene in the kitchen at the end, Jack not even daring to look at Dean, just a quiet and not-even-hopeful ‘hey.' Dean watching Jack out of the corner of his eye, some internal struggle, and then he finally relents. “You did good today, Jack.” Jack’s face, OMG. The camera stays on it as Dean leaves the kitchen, the smile that slowly brightens Jack’s entire expression. It means so much to him, that Dean complimented him. That Dean, even a little bit, accepted him. It’s what every child longs to hear from their parent, some affirmation of their goodness, of their effort, of their success. Jack drinks it up like it’s the sweetest life-giving nectar. And actually? Back to that psychologist thing again, it really really is. Have I thanked you often enough, Meredith? One more time then. Thank you for all that psychological complexity and realism, and all that Sam and Dean emotional interaction. Sam and Dean’s relationship has also undergone some evolution in this episode. Eager to put their disagreements aside after almost losing each other (again…), Sam and Dean both try to come over to the other’s way of thinking. Sam admits that he’s having a hard time accepting that Mary is dead, and Dean does an about face and tells Sam to hang onto his hope and optimism. For the first time since the season began – for the first time since the loss of Mary and Cas – Dean admits that he’s broken. Dean brings his brother a beer, Winchester for “I’m sorry.” Dean: I was outta line. I’m sorry for being a dick lately. Sam thanks him, but then both brothers question their stance and try to understand where the other is coming from. Sam questions that maybe Dean is right about their mother being dead. Dean: Don’t say that. Sam: That’s what you’ve been trying to get me to say. Dean admits that he needs Sam to hold onto hope and faith for the both of them, because right now he’s having a hard time believing in anything. Oh, Dean. Oh, Sam. And yet, I’m a contented fangirl because they’re having this amazing, open, honest, undefended conversation with each other. And that’s mostly what I ask of this show. Wait, did I thank Meredith enough?? The episode ends on an intriguing note. Cas falls to Earth, gets up and turns his face to the sun, soaking it in. But is it Cas??? Or is it Entity!Cas, finding another way to escape the annoyance of having Castiel awake in the Empty?? I guess we’ll find out. In just a few days!

Movie TV Tech Geeks News

#Featured #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles. Alex Calvert #Misha Collins #Supernatural #TV Recaps

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