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“Does Dean seem kind of, well, different to you?” Nate looked at Chuck, eyebrows raised.
Chuck took a long hit, grinned, and ducked his head. Holding as much of his breath as he could, he squeaked, “No shit, man. Tell me about it.”
“So you agree – he’s… really different?”
Chuck giggled, smoke escaping from the corners of his mouth. “No, no, he’s not different. Not really different. He’s just…more himself. Better. You know, ‘new and improved’!”
“Chuck, come on. This whole thing – It’s so weird since he got back. Dean moving in with Cas, being the super protective boyfriend? I mean, I know I have problems with – well, with gay stuff – but I have got super-Sayan level gaydar, and Dean never, EVER, pinged that before. I just think it’s really weird.”
Chuck took another deep hit and passed the joint over to Nate, finally. He just grinned, and then mimed locking his lips and tossing the key. They looked out across the camp from Chuck’s excuse for a porch – shading their eyes to see Dean at the top of one of the new light poles, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Cas was glaring up from the ground and Nate was glad not to be Dean.
“But man, the brownie bite almost killing him? Nobody gets that sick from a brownie bite.”
Chuck looked at Nate, then down at the ground. “All I know is, I’m glad he made it.” His voice sounded tired. “I haven’t prayed in a long time, you know? A really long time. Not sure who I was even praying to. But I prayed for Dean, and for Cas, when…” his voice trailed off.
“Yeah. Me too.” Nate took a hit, and let the smoke carry him into that calm space he needed, but never seemed to find on his own.
Chuck looked back at Dean up on the lamp pole. “I wish he’d come down. It’s making me nervous.”
Nate nodded. “It’s making everyone nervous. Cas looks like he’s gonna kill him.” Nate grins. He takes another deep hit, and does his own squeaky voice as he holds onto the smoke in his lungs.
“Look, Chuck, I know you have history with those guys, but, well, I’ve seen some shit, man. The world isn’t as small as we think it is, and some really weird stuff happens sometimes.” Nate exhales finally, noisily, then sighs. He continues in his normal, deep register. “So I’m just going to say it. That man is not the Dean Winchester who went to Kansas City. But I believe you when you say he is Dean Winchester.”
Chuck looks at Nate, his eyes narrow and considering. There is some kind of shouted discussion going on between Dean and Cas, but the two men on the glorified door step aren’t really watching or listening anymore. “Ok, man, yea – weird stuff happens. And not just sometimes – all the fucking time.” Chuck brings his hands down sharply three times as he repeats, “All. The fucking. Time.”
Nate nods, wisely. He glances at the group standing under the lamp pole – they are staring up at their leader and damn if they aren’t biting fingernails and fists.
“He’s not gonna let him get hurt, y’know. Cas won’t let anything happen to him.” Nate addresses his camp mates, but not loudly enough to be heard.
He starts to laugh softly at himself, and takes one last hit. He wishes he could change as easily as Dean seems to have done. To be comfortable in his own skin, to not wake up feeling sick and shamed, to not hear his dad’s voice coming out of his mouth as he turns all that hate on his lovers.
Chuck leans over, and takes back the joint, now barely a roach, holding it carefully to get one last hit without burning his finger and thumb, just pulling in the smoke with his breath – it’s too small to put his mouth to now. “So, what if he wasn’t. What would you do? I mean, if he wasn’t the same?” Chuck is looking carefully away from Nate’s eyes, but his face looks still, quiet – sort of chilling. Nate realizes for maybe the first time that Chuck is not safe – Chuck is not a soft, gentle teddy bear obsessed with toilet paper supplies – Chuck is a warrior too, like they all are, ready to do what needs to be done. Nate leans back against the house, and stares over where Dean has jumped down for Cas to catch him.
The two men seem lost in their own world as the rest of the camp audience disperses. Cas is gazing up at Dean, and Dean down at Cas. Nate’s heart aches – he wishes it was that easy for him. His answer comes as easy as exhaling smoke from his lungs. “I guess I’d just be really happy for them.”
Chuck smiles, slow and easy, looking directly at Nate, and winks. “Me too, my friend. Me too.”