#the night we met by lord huron for twelve hours straight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lottiethroughthelookingglass · 3 years

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Another 15x19 coda/15x20 fix-it? It’s more likely than you think. Anyway I think they should have delivered on the whole barn thing also feeling personally victimised by Lord Huron’s “The Night We Met”

on ao3

It’s a pull in his stomach.

It starts the moment they agree to check out the strange deaths of three IT professionals in the same small mid-western town.

He almost turns it down, says it’s was probably nothing, says they should probably let someone else take it. But he doesn’t

Sam hasn’t connected the dots. Then again why should he. He’d been off with Ruby or something. There’s no reason for him to even think of that night.

The hunt turns out to be a quick salt and burn. The three IT guys had stolen software from the company and the ghost of their ex-boss apparently couldn’t rest without vengeance.

These people need to get their priorities sorted. Dean thinks as he shovels dirt from the boss’s freshly dug grave while Sam stands watch for cops or security guards or the ghost or whatever else might decide to fuck up their night.

The body burns quickly and they’re able to head straight back to the motel. Done and dusted. Sam showers and then conks out almost immediately on his still-made bed.

Dean can’t sleep. Typical. He stares at the faded wallpaper on the dingy hotel room wall. The pull feels like a burning. He wants to throw up. But then again, he wants to throw up most of the time these days.

Grief’s a raw nerve ending. But it can’t last forever. He knows that. It’s not the first time he’s grieved. Not the first time he’s filled his days with drinking and nights with numbness.

But before there’d always been other things to distract him. After Sam there’d been Lisa and Ben, Sam and Jack after Cas and then Chuck and the end of the goddamn world after Mary.

He’s spent the better part of the last year wishing for nothing more than a chance to stop Chuck once and for all and now he almost wishes they hadn’t. Almost wishes that Chuck or Michael or Lucifer or just some damn bad guy would poke their head up and make his life miserable again. At least give him something he can fight. Some goal to work towards. Something he can defeat.

Because this. This he can’t do anything about. All he can do for this is turn through the motions and pretend that he’s ok.

The pull is in his chest.

Maybe it would help. Maybe it’s what he needs. Some kind of closure. Completing the circle bullshit or whatever.

He leaves just after 1am. Sam’ll be out for at least a few more hours. He leaves a note anyway on the cheap motel notepad – gone for a drink, will be back in the morning – Dean.

Sam won’t like it. He’ll be mad in the morning but he’ll be over it soon enough.

It takes almost two hours to get there. The roads all begin to look the same and he soon realises that despite having a good memory for locations it turns out finding a random barn you visited once twelve years ago isn’t as easy as he thought it would be.

He keeps driving. If nothing else it’ll be a way to pass the time and the search at least gives him something to do.

Eventually, he begins to see a few familiar signs. A dirt road with a twisted tree he recognises and it’s suddenly before him.

The barn’s still standing but the years haven’t been kind. Even more slats of wood are missing than before and one end is badly charred from a long-extinguished fire.

He parks Baby behind the barn, in the same spot he had twelve years prior and enters reverently like a parishioner to a church. There’s no need for a torch as the moonlight finds its way through the holes in the roof to bathe the floor in a cool blue light.

The pull turns to an ache.

The sigils are still there upon the walls. Hardly touched by graffiti over the years.

He makes his way down the centre of the barn, the dirt and grass crunching softly under his boots.

At the end of the barn he turns to face the doors.

There’s no breeze, they stand still. Firmly closed.

He doesn’t fall, just finds himself on the ground. His back against the wall and head raised to the sky. The heavens shine above him, stars in their multitudes glitter above.

Cas…

He breathes it out. It’s not a prayer. More a lamentation.

He prayed the first few nights. Racing after Chuck he prayed and he prayed and he hoped that Cas could hear him. But after Chuck was gone and the days started to blur praying became too much. It was just a reminder of the silence that would always face him.

In the stillness of the night there’s a flutter. A familiar sound.

Dean doesn’t move. His mind’s gotten particularly good at playing tricks on him lately.

“Dean?”

A silhouette against the closed barn doors. No sparks rain down. Permanently messy black hair and rumpled tan trench coat and skewwhiff blue tie illuminated by the pale moonlight.

“What are you doing here?”

The figure approaches him. His steps hesitant, nothing like the march under gunfire he’d made that night.

“Saw it on TripAdvisor. Apparently, this barn’s a top tourist attraction.” Dean replies with a crooked but mirthless grin.

Castiel stops, his head tilting.

They regard each other. Castiel’s eyes seem to brim with pain.

Dean’s are empty. He’s cried enough tears and he isn’t going to let some ghostly hallucination draw more from him now.

“Why are you here Dean?” The apparition’s voice is firmer, more demanding.

Dean sighs, tilts his head against the wall, “Just looking for some closure. A bit of sense I guess.”

His mind’s image is before him now, leaning down, reaching out-

A solid hand presses against his arm.

“Dean?”

Dean’s whole-body flinches. Visions can’t touch.

He stares up at the man before him, his eyes wide.

“Cas?” He breathes. “You’re not-”

“I’m sorry, I just saw you were here and… Jack was worried for you. He said I should talk to you.”

Dean tenses, “What do you mean saw? Jack-”

Visions of leaping up and embracing are dashed even as Cas begins to retreat.

“How are you here?” Dean demands, anger bubbling to the surface over any relief.

Cas hesitates, “Jack needed angels to rebuild heaven and well the Empty was getting crowded.”

“So he brought you back?”

“Among others.”

“You’ve been back this whole time.”

“Not the whole time.”

“How long?”

“I- I don’t know. Time is different in Heaven.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me. Me or Sam? I thought we were family Cas?!”

He finds himself on his feet. Words of anger coming so much easier than the tenderness he’s been holding near his heart

“We are. But I didn’t want to make things hard.”

“What the fuck does that mean Cas? What the fuck do you mean hard? Do you have any idea-”

Dean stops. He can’t. This is all his wanted for weeks. Months? He’s not sure. Time is different here too. And now Cas is standing in front of him and he just wants to fight.

Cas is staring at him. Cas is so close. Cas said he loved him.

“Why didn’t you come back?”

Cas looks to the ground.

Dean curses, slumps against the wall of the barn. Of course, it’s not what he thought. Why would it be?

“I used to come here often.” Cas’s voice cuts through the silence, gravel deep and rough.

Dean scuffs at the barn floor, “Why?”

“When I was questioning.” he says, “I would come here and I’d look at what you and Bobby had done. The sigils, the bullets, everything. You had no idea what you were facing. I- Heaven, Angels, it was something you couldn’t comprehend. Something so entirely beyond you. And you took your paints and your books and your weapons and you tried so hard to protect yourselves. You were so scared. And this barn would remind me of that. That no matter what you said, how confident you were, The Plan was more than you and if you couldn’t even comprehend a single angel then what was the worth in listening to you.”

Cas comes and stands beside Dean. A solid space still between them.

“But then, when I was falling… I kept coming here. And looking at this place. You were so scared. The warding, the weapons, you were just trying to cover up your fear. But it was also your bravery. You knew that this was something bigger than you’d ever seen. Something you couldn’t understand and you were terrified. But that didn’t stop you from trying, from going for it with everything you had because you knew confronting your fear was better than it letting it fester and control you. I was afraid, of everything knew I was feeling. Of falling. But this place reminded me that I couldn’t let that stop me from doing the right thing. Even if I was scared…”

Cas falls quiet. The night air lies stale and still between them. Dean almost wishes it was storming but all is quiet.

“I’m still scared.”

“What are you scared of now?” Dean asks, barely a whisper.

Cas frowns, chews over his words.

“I’m afraid you won’t ask me to stay”

Dean’s eyes met Cas’s and the air becomes electric for a moment.

“What are you afraid of Dean?”

Dean can barely breathe.

“I’m afraid you’ll leave.” He wants to look away but he forces himself to hold Cas’s gaze. “Cas, please stay.”

“I won’t leave Dean.” He says, barely a whisper.

“Good.”

He looks away. He can’t hold that gaze. Doesn’t know what to do with the energy vibrating between them. So he does what he knows, he looks away and tries to brush it off.

“It’s good to have you back Cas.” He says to the wall ahead of him.

He feels a hand on his sleeve. Cas reaching out to him. He turns back to him and suddenly finds himself in a bone crushing hug.

“It’s good to be back.” Cas whispers into his shoulder.

And if Dean holds onto that hug a little longer than he should, if his head turns to breathe in the scent of ozone and that missing storm and home that lingers on Cas, nobody needs to know. If he should really take this moment and kiss the miracle of an angel standing before him but he doesn’t – well, there’ll be another moment he tells himself. There’ll always be another moment.

Cas breaks the hug first, pulls away and Dean almost doesn’t let him. But Cas doesn’t go far. He raises a hand to cup Dean’s face, and he’s got that same look on his face that he had that night.

There’s something Dean should say.

Cas pulls his hand away.

They separate and then they’re in the car and they’re going back to the motel and Sam’s hugging Cas and asking questions and the moment’s gone and Dean can’t stop looking at him but the tugging feeling hasn’t gone. There’s still that sense of grief and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

No. He does know how to fix it. He’s just afraid.

They drive straight back to the bunker – back home. They don’t talk much but between the music Sam fills the silence. He calls Eileen who says she’ll meet them when they get back. She’s happy to hear about Cas.

Maybe Dean’s still angry. It’s been three days and he’s barely talked to Cas. It’s better than it was before. He can eat now, he can sleep and every day doesn’t feel like a rusty nail being dug into his gut.

He told Cas to stay but every time he sees him he can’t help but feel that Cas is just itching to leave. He can feel it radiating off him. He left all of heaven and his son to be here. To be with a human who hasn’t even been able to articulate what he wants after this angel gave everything for him.

The third night Sam and Eileen go out for dinner. Sam tries to invite Dean and Cas along in the kitchen over lunch and Dean just gives him a confused look. “No, I don’t want to go on your date Sam.”

Sam shrugs, “Suit yourself.”

Cas comes down to the kitchen after they leave.

“Where’s Sam and Eileen?”

“Went out for dinner.”

“Oh.”

They stand for a moment in the kitchen before Cas goes to leave.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?”

It’s an easy suggestion. Not that he really wants to watch anything. He just doesn’t want Cas to walk out again. Needs some reason to keep him here without actually having to talk about it.

“Ok.” Cas says.

They end up on Sam’s Netflix account. So, Dean can snoop and judge more than anything. There’s a half watched terrible looking Netflix original film in his Continue Watching section.

“What the hell Sammy?” Dean says as he hovers over the description.

“Maybe it was Eileen?”

“Hell no, Eileen has much better taste.”

“Was it you then?”

Dean shoots him a stinky look. “No, I have better taste.”

“We should watch it.”

“Really?”

“You’re always insisting I watch “classics” and “good films”. I think we should watch bad things too.”

“Ok.”

They play the film. It’s as terrible as the description suggested. Within five minutes Dean’s cackling at the bad CGI. The dialogue is as clichéd as anything and he’s never seen a man look so stilted while professing his undying love.

Beside him Cas is smiling– almost laughing.

He pauses the movie two acts in.

“I need to take a break.”

“Are we giving up?”

“No, we’re finishing this. I’m just gonna get popcorn.”

He comes back with the popcorn and sits back down next to Cas.

Cas reaches in and takes a handful of popcorn.

“Hey!”

“I thought it was for sharing.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to eat. I thought it was all molecules to you anyway?”

“I like the texture.”

Dean doesn’t know why his cheeks flush at that. He doesn’t know why he sat down so much closer to Cas. Or rather he does know but he’s not sure if it’s the moment yet.

He starts the movie again.

At least it is a moment. For the first time since Cas came back things feel right.

He looks across at Cas, the angel of the lord that stormed that barn twelve years ago, taking rounds of bullets to his chest without flinching, as he shoves popcorn that he can’t even taste properly into his mouth and laughs at this stupid Netflix movie.

A smile crosses his face.

There’s something he should say.

Cas moves to rest his head on the back of the sofa. He’s got a content smile on his face. He looks like he wants to be here.

“I’m afraid you won’t ask me to stay”

“I love you too Cas.”

He barely registers the words coming out of his mouth.

Cas turns to him, the content smile gone from his face.

“Dean?”

“I don’t really know what you meant. And I’m terrified that we both mean two different things but I just need you to know that I’m so glad you’re back and- Cas you mean so much to me and I’ve been such a dick since you got back but I just don’t want you to go. I just want you to stay and I need you to know before I fuck this up anymore that I love you too… I love you Cas.”

The words stream out of him all of a sudden and Cas is staring at him his mouth slightly ajar.

God, did I look this stupid, Dean thinks.

Cas moves his hand like he’s going to do something with it but it’s still filled with popcorn. He looks at it for a moment. Dean pushes the bowl towards him and he puts the popcorn back in.

The moment feels awkward again but thank God Cas seems to be committed.

He cups Dean’s cheek. His fingers are buttery and it’s kind of gross.

“I- I love you too Dean. And I want to stay. I don’t want to go back to heaven, and I haven’t for a long time. I just want to stay here like this… with you.”

“Ok.”

It’s Dean who leans forward, takes the final leap and presses his lips feather soft against Cas’s. He leans awkwardly, hyper aware of not spilling the bowl of popcorn in his lap. Cas shifts closer so that he can properly kiss him. He tastes like popcorn and ozone and Cas.

They break apart but not far. Dean can feel the ghosts of Cas’s smile against his lips and his breath on his cheek.

The moment’s interrupted by a sudden chorus of loud rap from the movie.

They both turn back to the screen briefly.

“Why the hell are they all dressed as carrots?”

“I have no idea.” Cas replies.

He smiles again and looks over to Dean, their noses almost touching. “You do realise this is now going to be our movie.”

Dean’s eyes go wide, “Absolutely the fuck not.”

#destiel #destiel fic #supernatural #spn fic #spn #supernatural fic #dean winchester #castiel #my fic #there are so many other things i need to be doing rn #but im a little fixated #pls send help

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