Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter Text
Dean had accepted long ago that the universe, God, karma, or whatever you want to call it, was not on his side. He had felt that he was given the short end of the stick ever since he was a kid, juggling caring for his little brother and alcoholic father. He felt that way when Sam took off for Stanford at eighteen and after his relationship with Lisa blew up into a million pieces. And he felt that way right now as he stood in the cereal aisle of the grocery store, staring at the empty space where there should have been boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
He groaned and picked up some Lucky Charms instead. Dean pushed his cart slowly up and down the aisles, weaving between the other poor souls who had just gotten off graveyard shifts and were stumbling around the store like zombies. Dean got it. He just wanted to go home, shower, and crawl back into bed. But they were out of breakfast stuff, and he needed to make breakfast for him and Claire.
To be fair, at seventeen, Claire should have been making breakfast for herself. But she always suckered Dean into making it for her. You're making some for yourself anyway, and teenagers aren't supposed to be up this early. It's science. She also guilt-tripped him by saying she didn't have enough time before school. The fact that she was not in school right now did not slip past Dean. But he got tired of arguing about it, and just gave in. As long as she was putting food in her mouth, that was the most important thing.
He smiled at the thought of her going to school in the fall. Dean had been working very hard in order to get them a fixed address that wasn't a total shithole. They settled in a small apartment in a not-so-nice, not-so-terrible part of town and thus were able to register Claire at a local high school. Frank, a client of Dean's, owed him a favor, so he was able to forge all the documents necessary to get her accepted without raising any red flags.
As Dean wandered the aisles, he thought absently about things they needed for the household. Were they out of sandwich stuff? He thought so. Dean grabbed another loaf of bread from the shelf. Claire, just like Sammy when he was a teen, had an appetite that would eat them out of house and home. Whenever he got mad at Sam for finishing off the last of his cereal, Sam would bitch and moan about how, as a mutant, he had a large appetite because of a high metabolism or whatever. Still, it wasn't fair for Sam to eat all the Lucky Charms without leaving any for him. Claire had the same bad habit, and like the breakfast thing, Dean had just accepted it. He knew he was a pushover, but what was he supposed to do? At least with Sam, he could go hard on him 'cause Sam was his brother. Claire, on the other hand? Well, Dean had signed up to take care of her, so he only had himself to blame.
When he first met Claire–almost two years ago now–she was like a chihuahua, tiny and frightened, with a loud bark and an extraordinary amount of rage condensed in her petite body. And he was the one who decided to pluck her stray ass off the street, take her home and feed her. She was a bit less angry nowadays, but still barked way too much.
Dean was unsurprised that Claire was still asleep as he stepped into their small apartment. It was barely past 8 am. He quietly put the groceries away before taking a shower. He'd make breakfast when he was clean. Right now, he just wanted to wash the lingering remnants of the night away.
Sometimes, he showered in the home or hotel room or whatever place he went to meet his clients. But last night, he was booked by David. If it weren't such good money, Dean would refuse him. It was better to take one client all night and make a ton rather than cruising the streets like he used to when he was younger. But let's just say that armpit fetishes were not Dean's cup of tea. Sure, it wasn't the worst or the most bizarre thing he'd ever done. But at twenty-eight, Dean had been in the game for a long time. So no shower for him before he’d left. This time, as soon as they were done, Dean had done a quick wipe down with baby wipes and quietly slipped out.
After his shower, Dean started on breakfast. It was Sunday, so he had decided to make eggs and hashbrowns. As much as he complained, Dean enjoyed cooking. Dean had cooked most of the meals he and Sam had eaten growing up. Dad sure as hell wasn't going to. He only stepped into the kitchen to grab a beer (or two or three) from the fridge. Once Dean was tall enough to see over the counters, he began to cook proper food for him and Sam instead of cold cereal. It had started with simple things, like mac and cheese, but eventually Dean had learned to make more complicated dishes. Dean made a pretty mean lasagna if he did say so himself.
As the fragrant smells of breakfast filled the kitchen, Claire emerged from her room like a bear coming out of hibernation. Her blond hair was sticking up in every direction, and she was wearing the Adventure Time pajama pants that Dean had gotten her from Walmart for Christmas last year. She lumbered her way to the bar stool at the kitchen counter and sat down with a loud thump.
"Morning sunshine!" Dean faked some enthusiasm just to annoy her. "Breakfast will be ready soon. Do you want milk or juice?"
"Did you get POG or OJ?" she muttered, half asleep.
"Sorry, they were out of POG today," Dean apologized. Pineapple Orange Guava juice, what they called POG, was Claire's favorite. "They were totally cleaned out of a bunch of stuff at the store. They were out of your cereal, too, so I got you Lucky Charms instead."
Claire just groaned in response. She stood up and shoved her way into the cramped kitchen to pour herself a glass of orange juice. She downed it like a frat boy shotgunning a beer before pouring herself another glass.
Once she was settled back in her seat with a plate of eggs and hashbrowns in front of her, she asked, “How was work? You had David, right? Still got a thing for your gross hairy pits?"
"Hey! These pits just paid our rent, thank you very much. Show them some respect," Dean shot back before digging into his own plate. He didn't talk about the details of his job with Claire (for obvious reasons). But she knew what he did and they joked about it often.
After her single mom passed away when she was thirteen, Claire was sent to live in foster care. On top of mourning her mom, Claire also had to hide the fact that she was born a mutant. Mutants were people born with abilities and powers beyond the norm, things like telepathy or superhuman strength. Or, in Claire's case, pyrokinesis. Although she mostly had it under control by now, Dean still had to put out fires on bad nights.
Mutant births have been on the rise in recent years, and pretty much the whole world was panicking about what to do. Anyone found to be a mutant was forced to be registered with the government and sent to live on a reservation, if they were well-adjusted and not dangerous. Dangerous and law-breaking mutants were sent to a special supermax, unofficially called Purgatory. Dean shivered at the thought of him or Claire being sent to such a place. Every once in a while, there was an exposé on how horrible the conditions were on the reservations, and comparisons to concentration camps were made. Despite this, nothing ever changed. The public's fear of mutants and their abilities far outweighed their care for human rights violations.
Claire's mom had taught her well about the dangers mutants faced in society. Claire kept hidden after her mother's death and pretended to be normal. But trying to hide her powers only made everything worse. Despite her best efforts, she caused a fire in her foster family's home, which led to them turning her in to the government. But Claire managed to run away before they could interrogate her. She ended up living on the streets at fifteen, stealing and begging in order to get by.
That was how they met. Dean had found her wandering the streets in the rain, trying (unsuccessfully, thank God) to proposition herself. Dean immediately pegged her as a mutant. He had an instinct for that kind of thing. He pulled her into a 24-hour dinner, bought her some hot cocoa, and the rest, as they say, was history.
"You have work today, right?" Dean asked in between bites. He knew she did, hence the big breakfast. But he was just making conversation. He reached over the counter for the ketchup before squirting some in a zig-zag pattern across his hashbrowns.
"Yeah," Claire mumbled. "From ten to six. Ugh, this sucks. Why's it gotta be so early?"
Dean laughed, "Yeah, but when you start school, you gotta be there at eight am. So get used to it, buttercup."
"Don't remind me."
As much as she complained, Dean knew that she was excited. Claire may put up an attitude, but she ultimately wanted to get her life back on track. They had had many long talks and even longer arguments about what that would look like for her. Based on his own experience getting his GED a few years ago, he had managed to convince her to give high school another shot.
"Are you working again tonight?" Claire asked.
"Yeah, all night. So I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"So when are we gonna go see the movie?"
"You really wanna see Ghost Facers 2?"
"Duh, I gotta know if it's just as bad as the first one," Claire joked, shoving her empty plate to the side before chugging down the last of her juice. Dean laughed as he picked up both empty plates and tossed them in the sink before turning on the water. They didn't have a dishwasher, so Dean started to scrub the plates clean. He went over his schedule for the week in his head.
"I got time Tuesday evening. You're off on Tuesday, right?"
"Yeah," she said, pushing away from the counter abruptly, making a piercing screech with her chair. "So it's a plan. And we're going out for pizza first."
"Oh, are we now?"
"Yup! I got it all figured out!" Claire said as she bounced out of the kitchen and headed back down the hall to her room to get ready for work, leaving Dean to finish up in the kitchen. Dean needed his car for work, and even if he didn't, there was no way he'd let Claire drive Baby. So she had to take the bus to get to her fast-food job, which meant she had to leave about an hour before her shift.
As Dean finished putting the dishes on the drying rack, exhaustion settled over him like a heavy coat. He was about ready to pass out. Claire always took a while to do that emo makeup of hers, so he just went straight to his own bedroom. He had already changed into his pajamas after his shower, so he quickly set the alarm on his phone before passing out on the bed.
***
A thin strip of light peeked out of the blackout curtains in Dean's bedroom, hitting him directly in the eyes. Dean groaned and turned over, away from the bright light, before realizing that a sound had woken him up. His phone was loudly buzzing on his bedside table, and it would just. Not. STOP. Dean mindlessly thrust his arm out to the side, reaching for the phone to silence its annoying ring. Was it time already? Ugh. He brought his phone to his face, but instead of seeing his alarm going off, he saw a bunch of notifications. A couple were texts from Claire and one was a call from an unknown number. The call was from just a minute ago. That was the sound that had woken him up. Sitting up, he realized it was only just past noon. Way earlier than he needed to be up. Claire didn't usually text him when she was at work. Her boss was a stickler for employees keeping their phones in lockers. Dean frowned slightly as he opened his messages.
EMERGENCY
FUNKYTOWN
Dean's stomach immediately dropped, and he felt unsteady, even though he was still sitting. He instantly pressed the phone icon, held it to his ear, and listened intently as the dial tone droned on and on for an eternity before going to Claire's voicemail. Dean was up in a flash, running around the room to get dressed as quickly as possible.
Shit. Shit. SHIT. Funkytown was one of the code words they used for emergencies. But not just any emergency. It meant she was picked up by the police.
Dean remembered the unknown missed call as he put on his shoes. He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he locked the front door. His hands were so shaky it took him a few tries to get it to lock.
“You have one new voice message.”
*BEEP*
"It's me. I'm at the station on Lincoln Ave. and... Dean, I'm sorry, I don't know what to do...they, they...they're gonna find out that I'm a...Dean, they took my fingerprints, and I...I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Claire's voice sounded almost alien on the phone. Her usual bravado and confidence were all gone. All Dean could hear was her shallow breaths and quivering voice. He raced down the stairs of the apartment complex and straight to the Impala. Dean jammed the keys into the ignition and Baby thundered to life like an ancient, primordial beast.
Dean’s heart was pounding in his chest as he sped out of the parking lot and down the street. He needed to get to the station, to Claire, as fast as possible. He drove as fast as he could while maintaining something close to the speed limit. The last thing he needed was to get in an accident or get pulled over himself. But as the minutes ticked by and Dean kept hitting red lights, his hands grew sore from the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel.
He hit another red light and slammed on the brakes. He let out a frustrated curse and glared at the light. It was still red.
“C’mon, c’mon. Come on!” He growled. He sped off the line and into the intersection the moment it turned green.
The twenty-minute drive felt like an eternity and Dean felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest as he parked on the street a block away from the station. He put the car in park and yanked out the keys. But he paused, a moment of clarity coming to him before he opened the door.
He had been so focused on getting to Claire that he hadn't even given a thought to what he would do once he got here. He pressed his head into the steering wheel, letting the pressure ground him as he took deep, uneven breaths. Calm down. Calm down. Calm. Down.
Dean wasn't sure why she was taken here. Was that in her message? Had he missed it? If she wasn't arrested, then he might have a chance at getting her out quickly. If she was arrested, though... she would be in the station much longer. And the longer she was there, the more likely they were to find out that she was a mutant.
Dean needed to be smart about this. He needed to find out what happened before he rushed into a goddamn police station, guns blazing. He needed a plan. He listened to Claire's message again in case he missed something the first time. When he heard her say Dean, they took my fingerprints, he felt like he was free falling, hurdling off the edge of a cliff toward the jagged rocks and hungry sharks below.
If they took her fingerprints, then that meant she was definitely arrested. Dean had given Frank a month of free services for his and Claire's fake IDs and they were good enough to fool any run-of-the-mill cop. If they were fingerprinting her and giving her a goddamn jailhouse phone call, then Dean had to assume that she had been booked and was already being processed.
There was no definitive test for mutant abilities, as much as pharmaceutical companies might try. Whenever someone was suspected of being a mutant, government interrogators were sent to “interview” them. No one knew for sure how exactly they determined if you were a mutant. But word on the street was that they had psychics who tested people, in exchange for not being thrown in Purgatory themselves. Even if they didn’t come and interview Claire today, it was only a matter of time. After the fire at Claire's foster family's place, they had reported her to the government, so she was definitely on their watch list.
"Shit, shit, shit!!" Dean slammed his fist into the steering wheel several times, hard enough for a lightning bolt of pain to go shooting up his arm. They had been so fucking careful!
Dean didn't know what to do. Half-formed plans raced through his mind one after another, never staying around long enough to form into a complete thought. Could he go in there and try to see her? Would they even let him if they knew she was a mutant? And what would he say their relationship was? If he claimed to be a relative, like their IDs said, they would instantly be suspicious that he had been harboring a mutant. That kind of thing carried a hefty fine in this state. They might even suspect that he was a mutant himself. Dean could not take the chance that he would be captured too.
But there was no way he was leaving Claire. He would never let her get shipped off to one of those reservations. A cold shiver ran up and down the length of his spine as he realized that, with her pyrokinetic powers, Claire would likely be sent to Purgatory. The thought of it almost made him vomit.
The more he thought about it, the more possibilities he dismissed, the more Dean realized what he would have to do. It was stupid. It was reckless. It was the last thing Dean wanted to do. But he could do it. He could get her out of there. If he used…Dean clamped a hand over his mouth as he swallowed down the disgust and the pins-and-needles feeling he got in the back of his throat at the thought of using his abilities. He hadn't done so in years.
He looked out the window at the front doors of the police station one more time, conviction settling deep in his bones. He turned Baby's key. Regret stabbed him in the heart like a jackhammer as he pulled out onto the street and drove away.
***
"We got a live one!"
Sam looked up from his book to see Charlie storming into the bakery with fast, eager steps. Her face was lit up with excitement. He quickly moved his book and coffee out of Charlie's way as she haphazardly shoved everything on the table aside before plopping her laptop down right in front of him.
"And she's not even that far away. Look!" Charlie pointed at the information on her brightly lit screen. Her laptop had tons of windows open, running whatever programs and algorithms she had been working on before the notification window had popped up.
Sam scanned through the information quickly, noting the location of the police report, "Wow, that's like, what, only three hours from here?"
"Told you! It's perfect! We can go grab her tonight before she gets fully processed. It's a total no-brainer!"
"Are you guys going out for a rescue mission?" Gabriel interjected. "I wanna come!" He quickly jumped out from behind the bakery counter before siding up to Sam. Gabriel shoved Sam over until he was on the edge of the seat so that he could sit down right next to Sam on the chair. Although Gabriel was much smaller than him, he somehow managed to take up most of the space on the chair, leaving Sam with barely an edge to sit on. Why did his friends have to be so pushy?
"Hey! She looks like a cutie," Gabriel said as he looked at the picture on Charlie’s computer screen.
"She looks underage, Gabe," Sam quickly shot back, shoving him over a bit in a futile battle for dominance of the chair. The mugshot showed a young girl with long blond hair, piercings, and thick eyeliner. But underneath the makeup was the rounded face of a teenager that had yet to sharpen into its adult features. He looked at the arrest profile carefully until he found her information.
"See," Sam pointed at the screen. "She's seventeen." Sam read a bit more. Claire Novak. Born April 11, 1997. Arrested for petty larceny, retail theft, and possession of a false ID. Sam frowned, "It doesn't say anything about her talent."
"She's only flagged in the system as a ‘possible mutant’,” Charlie quickly replied. Sam could see just how excited she was, she was practically vibrating in her seat. “She was just picked up, like, two hours ago. Since it's Sunday, the Feds probably won't come to analyze her until tomorrow at the earliest. We can drive down there right now and get her out before anyone's the wiser."
"She's not confirmed yet?" Gabriel frowned. "What'll we do if we get there and she's not one of us?"
"She was flagged 'cause someone reported her," Charlie explained. She manipulated the information on the computer a bit so that section of the report came to the center of the screen. "If you look right here, see? She was reported two years ago. If she was interrogated and cleared, she wouldn't still be flagged in the system. If she wasn't questioned, well, then that means she wasn't around to be questioned. And who would run away unless they were actually exceptional?"
Sam hummed a response to Charlie's analysis. Most law-abiding citizens would be desperate to clear their name from even the hint of suspicion. And even if they were wrong, it would be no harm, no foul. Gabe could just wipe her memories, and she'd be none the wiser. But if they were right, which they probably were, as Charlie had never been wrong before, they would get her out. That was what they did. It was their mission to help other exceptional people find safety and keep them out of the reservations. Charlie had done the same thing for Sam and now he was helping others get the same chance.
"Have you told Castiel yet?" Sam asked.
"Yup!" Charlie beamed. "He's getting ready to go right now. Which is what we should be doing, too." She stood up from the table and started gathering up her laptop.
"Awesome!" Gabe exclaimed, "It's been a while since I got to mess with the fuzz." He stood up, finally allowing Sam to reclaim the seat. He untied his apron and threw it aimlessly in the direction of the counter without looking to see where it landed.
"Ok," Sam said. "I'll meet you guys by my car in 10. Let me just text Jody and Eileen to let them know what's up."
"I already texted Jody, and Bobby and Pam too,” Charlie responded. She clapped her hands together. “I’m so excited! I’m gonna add some more music to the mission playlist right now!”
“Nice! I’ll pack us some snacks for the road,” Gabriel added.
“Make sure you pack some real food this time, Gabe,” Sam pointed out.
“Candy is real food!” Gabe clutched at his chest, pretending to be scandalized. Sam just rolled his eyes and followed Charlie out the door of the bakery. They split up as he headed back to his place and she went to hers. As he walked back home, he fired off a text to Eileen to let her know what was up. She responded a few minutes later with a ‘Good luck and stay safe!’ followed by a string of emojis.
Fifteen minutes later, the group was leaving the safety of Eden Falls in Sam's beat-up hybrid Landcruiser. Sam was the designated driver, of course. Castiel and Gabriel didn't have driver's licenses, and Charlie needed to do reconnaissance on her computer during the trip. She sat next to him in the front seat, her red hair tied back in a ponytail and laptop balanced precariously on her knees.
As a technopath, Charlie could control technology with her mind, like the computer was an extension of her brain. She could effortlessly hack into government systems, like police records. She had designed a program a few years ago that notified her when “mutants”, or what they called exceptional people, were identified by local police. It was how they found Claire just now and also how Charlie had found Sam. Her talents also included high intelligence, which, combined with Gabriel’s peculiar sense of humor, meant that Sam got pranked on the regular.
Gabriel sat behind her, wearing an obnoxious T-shirt that said, "I did not commit tax fraud in 2003" in comic sans. His fingers bounced up and down to some beat on the armrest. Like Charlie, he was an essential part of the team. With her talents, Charlie would hack into the police station's computers, erasing all of Claire's records, her arrest report, and the security camera footage. Gabriel, on the other hand, would erase Claire from the police officers' minds. He could influence people’s memories and perceptions as well as create elaborate and incredibly realistic illusions. Gabriel took a little too much joy in this part of the job, often giving the police officers crazy memories to replace the one he took. Between the two of them, it would be like she was never even there.
Sat next to Gabriel and behind the driver's seat was Castiel. Even though they had just left town, Castiel had already put the hood of his jacket up and buried his hand in the front pockets. Sam had gone out of the way to choose a used car with after-market tinted windows so no one could see inside. Yet Castiel still felt nervous every time he left town. Sam couldn't blame him.
Sam felt a little bad about how uncomfortable Castiel got when they went out on missions. But Castiel always said he wanted to come and wanted to be part of the team. The mission was very important to him, that was for sure. To be fair, Sam didn't really know what they'd do without him. They relied heavily on Castiel's teleportation abilities to get them in and out of the places.
Sensing the mood of the group, Sam turned down the music a bit. Their playlist was aptly named ‘h3iSt PlAyLiSt’. They settled into an anticipatory silence as the road stretched out ahead of them toward their goal.
***
Based on Charlie's reconnaissance skills, they knew the station's layout and the exact location of the holding cells. They had driven by the station, too, so Castiel could get a feel of the building for himself. It was essential that he knew where they were going. They were lucky that it was a small suburban station. There weren't many officers on duty at the station to begin with, and the ones who processed Claire, and subsequently found out she was a mutant, were still there.
Sam parked the car in a lot without any cameras a couple of blocks away from the station. Before they left the car, the group reviewed the plan. Charlie and Gabriel would take care of wiping information and run interference on any officers. At the same time, Sam and Castiel would talk to Claire and catch her up to speed. It was the same plan they'd gone with before, and it had worked so far without a hitch. There was always some element of uncertainty though, so it was good to go over emergency exit strategies.
They got out of the car and stood together in a circle. Sam looked at Castiel. He was wearing loose jeans and a dark gray hooded sweatshirt. The hood of his jacket was pulled tightly over his head, making it hard to see his face. He was shifting from foot to foot.
"You ready?" Sam asked.
"Yes," Castiel replied. Despite how nervous he appeared, his voice was filled with conviction.
"I've been monitoring the cameras in the hallway since we left. No one's been in or out of that storage closet in hours. So we're all good to go."
"Thanks, Charlie," Castiel nodded in confirmation. Sam knew that Castiel had to be very careful with his abilities in order to make sure that he didn't teleport into a solid object, like a wall or, God forbid, a person.
Sam, Gabriel, and Charlie stuck their hands out in front of them, meeting in the center like a cheer squad. Castiel took a deep breath and Sam, too, prepared himself for the “jump.” He placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and nodded to let him know he was ready to go. Castiel nodded back and raised his right hand and placed it on top of their joined hands in the center.
The next instant, they were all inside a small storage closet. High shelves stacked with toilet paper and cleaning supplies surrounded them on all sides. The only light in the closet came from a single bulb dangling from the ceiling.
The vertigo made Sam stumble, and he almost knocked over a vacuum that was leaning in the corner. No matter how many times Castiel "jumped” him, it was still incredibly jarring. Charlie and Gabriel were feeling similar effects. They were both bent over slightly, hands on their knees, and taking deep breaths. Castiel was the only one who was unaffected. He stood in the center of the room, patiently waiting for everyone to recover.
Before opening the door, Charlie checked the cameras one more time using the phone in her hand. After she gave the all clear, Gabriel slowly opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. One by one, the group exited the closet. Charlie and Gabriel headed left toward the admin area while Sam and Castiel went right down the bland beige hallway. They walked quietly, taking care not to make noise or draw any unnecessary attention. They quickly found the door that led into the holding cells and quietly slipped inside. An overly lit hallway stretched before them, with iron bars on either side.
Sam peeked into the cell to his left. Empty. He turned to the cell on his right and it was the same. He proceeded to the next set of cells, Castiel following closely behind him. As he rounded the corner, Sam spotted movement in the cell to his left. A small figure was curled in itself and sat on top of the bed. Sam couldn't see her face, but long blond hair spilled from the tightly wound mass. Sam knew it was her even if he couldn't see her face. His blood thrummed through his veins and his skin tingled. Sam could feel it. She was an exceptional person. He exchanged a nod with Castiel.
Sam tapped lightly on the bars to get her attention. She must have heard them come in, but he didn't want to startle her.
"Are you Claire? Claire Novak?" She didn't move. Sam tried again, keeping his voice gentle. "My name is Sam, and this is my friend Castiel. We're here to help you."
A twitch. Claire had heard him, but she still didn't look up.
"We're mutants, just like you," Sam reassured her. He used the more common word in order to avoid any confusion, even though the name carried with it all the trauma and discrimination they faced in society.
Her head snapped up quickly, eyes large and frightened like a wild animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
"What? How did you–" She started.
"We came to get you out of here,” Sam continued. They didn't have much time for small talk. The longer they were here, the greater the risk. "We are part of a community where mutants live freely and safely. We help out mutants who get caught so that they don't get sent to the reservations. If you come with us, we can take you to our town."
"How do I know…" she started hesitantly. Her voice was raspy from crying. She coughed a little, clearing her throat. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
Sam looked to Castiel, who stood beside him. Castiel nodded and then put his hand on Sam's shoulder. The next instant, they were both inside the cell, standing in front of Claire.
"What the fuck?" she screeched. Her legs scrambled frantically until she was on the other side of the cot, putting as much distance as possible between them. "How did you–"
"Shhh," Sam shushed her. He put his hands out in front of him in a soothing gesture. "We don't have much time. As you can see, we can get you out of here in an instant. After that, you can be on your way or–"
Sam was cut off by the sound of the door to the holding area opening with a quiet groan. Hurried footsteps came rushing down the corridor toward the cell. There was no time. They were about to be discovered. Sam glanced at Castiel, who had already begun to prepare to teleport him and Claire away. They would have to come back for Charlie and Gabriel, but right now, the priority was to get Claire out of here.
A large figure rounded the corner, but before Castiel could grab onto Claire, she lunged forward out of his grasp.
"Dean!" Claire shouted. She shoved her hands through the bars to hug the person on the other side.
It couldn't be...It couldn't possibly be…
Sam was frozen in place.
"Claire!" The man said, reaching through the bars of the jail cell to return the embrace. "Oh my god, I was so freakin’ worried. Are you okay?"
There was no way. There was no possible way. But Sam knew that face, knew that voice. He knew what it felt like to be tightly wrapped in his big brother's arms.
"Dean?"
Dean looked up and froze. His eyes were wide, and his mouth dropped open.
"Sammy?" His voice was a strangled, broken thing.
They stared at each other. Sam was unable to think or move or look away because Dean was here. Dean was right here. Why the hell was Dean here?
The moment stretched out, thin and tight like a rubber band pulled back as far as it could go. Claire looked back and forth between the two, confused. Castiel also looked between them with what was surely a puzzled frown. His head tilted slightly to the side underneath the hood. But all Sam could see was Dean, his brother, who he hadn't seen in six years.
"Wait," Claire spoke, breaking the spell that had been cast. "He’s that Sam? Your brother?" She was looking at Dean, talking to Dean. How on earth did they know each other?
Dean looked down at Claire before looking up again. His eyes glanced over at Castiel, who he appeared to have noticed for the first time before settling back on Sam.
>
"Sam, what are you doing here?" Dean asked. His brows bunched up, and he looked confused. "Were you caught too?" Sam didn’t know what to say, what to think. His emotions were a mess and his thoughts were buzzing around his head like a swarm of insects.
Claire spoke up, "They said they're here to bust me out! They're mutants, too. That guy," she pointed at Castiel, "just teleported in here. He can totally help me escape."
Sam jumped when Castiel put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, we don't have much time. We've already lingered too long. We must leave. Charlie and Gabriel are probably finished."
"R-right," he said shakily. "Dean, she's right. We came here to help Claire escape. But we gotta go, like, now."
"Wait, hang on a second. You're not taking her anywhere," Dean interjected.
"But Dean, if I stay here, they're gonna send me to the reservations!" Claire pleaded.
"I'm not gonna let that happen, Claire," Dean held up a set of keys Sam hadn't realized he'd been holding. He started fumbling with the lock of the cell.
"Dean," Sam’s voice was shaky and uncertain. "Are you…are you a police officer?" Dean wasn't wearing a uniform, just a pair of jeans, boots, and a T-shirt underneath his heavy leather jacket. Sam realized at that moment that he recognized that jacket. It was the same leather jacket Dean always wore. It was Dad's jacket.
"Fuck no," Dean scoffed. "I'm here for the same reason as you." The lock clicked into place, and he swung the cell doors wide open. He grabbed Claire by the wrist and began to lead her away. "C'mon, let's get the hell outta Dodge."
"Wait!" Sam said. He had so many questions, but none of them were important right now. Sam followed them out of the cell and into the corridor. “Dean, wait!”
The door to the holding cells opened again and Sam’s breath caught in his throat for a moment before Gabriel and Charlie rounded the corner.
"Sam? Cas?" Gabe whispered. "Are you guys ok? There’s a police officer passed out over here. What's going on–" Gabriel cut himself off when he saw Dean and Claire standing in front of him.
Gabriel instantly raised his hands, but before he could use his talent on Dean, Sam shouted, "Wait! Gabe don't!"
Gabriel dropped his hands but looked confused, looking between Dean, Claire and Sam. Charlie too, was looking around with wide confused eyes.
"What the—? Sam, what's going on here?" Dean looked back at him.
"They're with us, Dean,” Sam desperately explained. “They're here to help get Claire out of here.”
"Why would you even–," Dean sputtered. "How do you even know Claire?”
“Dean, we all want the same thing here. So let's get out of here and then we can explain everything, okay?" Sam implored. He looked at Dean's face, confusion and something else in his expression.
"Okay, then.” Impatience leaked into Dean’s voice. “Let's go." He moved to go out the door again.
"No, not that way," Sam warned. He walked up to Dean, who was still holding Claire's wrist, and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Charlie and Gabriel quickly got the message and reached over to grab on too. Sam looked back at Castiel and said, "Now!"
Castiel nodded. Before Dean could even open his mouth to protest, Castiel teleported them all back to the Landcruiser. The cold night air surrounded him and Sam sighed loudly with relief. The vertigo hit him hard. He bent over and put his hands on his knees and sucked in deep even breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth.
Sam looked around at Gabriel and Charlie, giving them a quick once over to see if they were okay. Gabriel was breathing heavily but gave him a thumbs up and a shaky smile. Charlie nodded at him, before plopping down onto the pavement, legs stretched out in front of her. Sam looked at Castiel. He was shaking and panting loud, exhausted breaths. He must have overexerted himself. The more people and the farther the distance, the more tiring it was for him to use his teleportation talent. Sam felt a ping of guilt for not helping him with it, but he had been too distracted by the sudden appearance of his long lost brother. Sam turned back around to check on Dean and Claire. Claire was steadying herself against the side of the car. Dean, on the other hand, was bent over and loudly retching onto the ground.
“Ugh, gross man,” Gabriel complained.
“What the–,” Dean started, then spat on the ground. He wiped the sleeve of his jacket across his mouth. “What the fuck was that?” His head whipped around nervously. “Where are we?”
“Castiel took us out of there. We’re far away from the station now. We’re safe,” Sam reassured him. Dean looked at him and it was like they were being pulled by magnets. They both rushed forward and wrapped their arms around each other in a fierce hug. Sam gripped Dean tight around the shoulders and buried his face in Dean’s leather jacket.
“I missed you, Sammy.” Dean said, his voice was raw with emotion.
Sam couldn’t help but let emotion fill his voice too. He felt tears welling in his eyes. Wavering, he said, “It's Sam, and I missed you too, Dean.”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
They pulled apart. Dean’s smile was so big that Sam could see all of his teeth. He could feel his cheeks aching with his own smile.
“Sam, why are you here? Where have you been this whole time? I went to Stanford to see you and you weren't there.” Dean asked.
“You came to see me?” Sam responded, surprised. They hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms when Sam left for California.
“Yeah, I tried to find you but they said you’d dropped out. I called you a bunch of times, I didn’t know what to think. I was so worried that you’d been caught and that you were taken to the reservations.”
“I almost was. Charlie, Gabe, and Cas here, they helped me out, and now we’re helping others too,” Sam explained. “Dean, that’s why we're here. Charlie found out about Claire and we came to help her.”
Dean turned his attention to the others. Charlie gave a little smile and wave. Gabe did some finger guns. Dean's gaze paused on Castiel and a look of surprise came over his face. Sam looked at Castiel too and paused. Oh, no. In all the confusion, Castiel’s hood had come down, and his face could clearly be seen. Sam hadn’t even noticed. Cas was his friend, so Sam was used to seeing him and had become accustomed to his appearance.
Even in the dim light of the streetlamp they were standing under, anyone would be able to tell that Castiel was a mutant. There was irony in the fact that he was named after an angel but had devilishly pointed ears and inhumanely blue skin. After a moment, Castiel grabbed the hood of his jacket and pulled it forcefully over his face. He turned away sharply, walked over to the car and practically dove into the backseat. The whole group watched him go, Sam didn’t try to stop him. He knew Castiel was very uncomfortable with strangers. This whole situation was probably too much for him.
Dean, to his credit, didn’t react much. He turned back to the group and said, “Uh, thanks for helping Claire. And Sam, too,” Dean elbowed Claire in the side and she stood up a bit straighter, shaking her out of her stupor.
“Oh, yeah, thank you guys so much,” she said.
“No problemo,” Gabriel said. “That’s what we’re here for!” He clapped his hands loudly. It echoed in the empty parking lot. “So what’s the plan? You guys coming back with us, then?”
“Coming back with you where?” Dean asked.
“Dean, they said they live in a place where mutants are free! That it’s safe there. Can we go? Please?” Claire begged.
Dean turned to her, glaring. “You are in no position to be asking for anything right now. Getting arrested? What the hell were you thinking!”
“It wasn’t my fault! They arrested me for no reason!”
“Don’t lie to me Claire! Shoplifting? In the middle of the day? How could you be so reckless!”
“What, like you've never lifted anything?!”
“Don't try to change the subject! And don’t even get me started on how you’ve been lying to my face for the past week! Why didn’t you tell me you got fired?!”
“Dean, take it easy,” Sam felt the need to interject. Dean was really laying into her.
“Sam, unless you’ve raised a teenager in the last six years, butt out,” Dean snapped at him.
Sam had been lectured by Dean enough times to know that tone brokered no argument. Sorry, Claire. He’d tried.
“Well?” Dean said again, crossing his arms.
“I was embarrassed, ok! You work so hard to pay for everything and I didn’t know how to tell you!” Claire sputtered out. “I didn’t…I didn’t want you to be disappointed or kick me out.”
Claire looked like she was about to cry and Sam saw Dean soften. He was always very weak to tears. Sam had used that to his advantage countless times growing up.
“Claire,” Dean sighed. “You know that I would never kick you out. The money from your job is for you, for school and your future. I’m not disappointed you lost your job. I'm upset that you lied to me. I'm upset that you took a stupid risk that almost got you taken away. Do you know how fucking scared I was when I got your message?”
“I’m sorry Dean, it was stupid and I...” she sniffled.
Dean sighed again and rubbed his hand over his face and down the back of his neck. “Look, we can talk about this more later. The important thing is that you're safe now. And we need to get the hell out of town before they come looking for you.”
“We took care of that, actually,” Charlie piped up. “I deleted Claire's arrest record from today and the security camera footage from the station. She’s still flagged in the government system, though. Not much I can do about that.”
“Yeah, and I took care of the cops. When they wake up, they'll think it was all just a weird dream,” Gabriel waved his hands around in a manner indicating that what he did was “magic.”
Dean looked at them with uncertainty. He looked like he was ready to back away slowly into the night and never return.
Sam was desperate for more. More time with Dean, to talk more with Dean. “Why don’t you come with us?” he suggested. “Just for a bit. You can see the town and see what it’s like. We can catch up too. It’s been so long.”
Dean sighed loudly and looked up toward the sky. He looked back and forth between Claire and Sam. Sam knew that Dean was weak to his puppy dog face and from the looks of it, Claire knew that too. She was staring up at him with wide eyes.
“Ugh, fine! But only ‘cause I already packed up all our shit,” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.
“Yay! Thanks Dean,” Claire hugged him around the middle. She looked back up at him and asked, “Can we get McDonalds on the way?”
“Absolutely not! Don't think for one second I'm gonna forget about this stunt you pulled. You are gonna get it the whole ride there.”
Claire’s face fell and she began to protest “But I’m starving! I haven’t eaten since breakfast and…”
As they fell into their bickering, Sam felt a longing settle into his chest. Dean was here. Dean was coming with them.
Chapter 2
Notes:
Hello! Thank you for all the kudos and comments, I really appreciate it. I will be adding tags as I go along and changing or adding any warnings and ratings as the story develops. If you feel there are any tags or warnings that are missing, please let me know.
Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter Text
Sam was nervous as he walked up the path toward the cabins the next morning. He had barely gotten any sleep last night and he had woken up way too early. He just couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened yesterday.
After giving Dean and Claire directions and a ride to their car, they had taken off in the Impala to meet them back in Eden Falls, the small town that had become his safe haven. God, the Impala. Sam never thought he would see that car again. Nostalgia had welled up in his throat, tightening until he almost couldn’t breathe. As Sam drove back home in his own car, he couldn’t help but worry.
Charlie and Gabriel talked the whole time about how excited they were to finally meet the brother that Sam had talked so much about. But he was too tense to join in on the conversation, especially when they started asking questions.
Sam had already shared the broad strokes of his life story with his friends. Sam had grown up with a single dad and an older brother after his mother passed away in a house fire when he was a baby. They had moved around a lot. Their dad could never get steady work and could never stop running from the past. Dean had stepped up and raised him to the best of his ability, considering he was a child himself. Sam hadn’t realized how much Dean had done for him until he had left.
Ugh, just thinking about how he left made a complicated maelstrom of emotions form in Sam’s gut. The fight he’d had with Dad was bad. Like, real bad. But the look on Dean’s face, the disappointment, that was way worse. Sam had been running away from that face as much as he had been running away from his life.
It had been six years since he’d last seen Dean. But last night… Dean said that he’d tried to find him. That he went to visit him in California. The fact that Dean had sought him out made hope bloom in his chest. Sam wanted to be close with his brother again. After everything that had happened that had brought him here, he wanted his family back. And based on how Dean acted yesterday, he might want that too.
Sam walked up the path that led to the cabin where Dean and Claire were staying. The Too Tired Motel had been an operational business in years past before the town had converted the guest cabins into temporary homes for people transitioning to Eden Falls. The cabins were laid out in a U shape and all faced a central path that wound through the lot. The whole place was surrounded by trees and a thick carpet of pine needles covered the ground.
The Impala was parked in front of cabin number four, which was dark brown with a faded 70’s orange trim. He ran his hand over the hood, to make sure it was just as beautiful and solid as he remembered. A light hand gently grasped his arm.
Are you okay? Eileen asked him. She was worried about him, he could feel it.
He gave her a small smile in return. Yeah, I’m okay. Just nervous, he reassured her.
She nodded, satisfied with his answer. He grabbed Eileen's hand and squeezed it tightly in his own. He needed her support right now. They walked up to the front door and Sam dropped her hand to give it a knock. They only had to wait a few moments before the door opened wide and his brother appeared just beyond the threshold.
"Morning, Dean,” Sam said. “I, uh, brought you some coffee. And some breakfast.” Sam stretched his arm out to offer up the cup of coffee to Dean. He and Eileen had picked up some coffee and donuts from Gabriel’s bakery on their way over.
Dean stared at them for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between him and Eileen. “Uh, thanks Sammy,” he took the coffee from Sam’s hand. “Why don’t you, uh, come in?” Dean opened the door wider and stepped out of the way to let them enter.
“Thanks,” Sam said as he walked through, Eileen right behind him. Dean closed the door and they all stood awkwardly in the entryway for a moment before Eileen spoke up.
“Hello, my name is Eileen Leahy. It’s really nice to meet you. Sam’s told me a lot about you,” Eileen spoke out loud, which she only did for strangers and new people. It was much easier for her to use her talents to communicate, although Sam thought her voice was beautiful and secretly wished she spoke aloud more often.
“Nice to meet you, too. Thanks for the breakfast by the way,” Dean made an uncoordinated attempt at the sign for thank you. Eileen smiled wide and returned with it with the sign for you’re welcome.
Dean’s cheeks grew a little red and he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Sorry,” he apologized. “That’s all I know, really.”
“That’s alright,” Eileen said. “It's more than most people. I can read lips pretty well, as long as you’re facing me.”
“Can do,” Dean responded with a small smile. They lapsed into silence again.
Sam coughed, “Where's Claire?"
She’s still asleep, you know how teenagers are. And yesterday was a lot, so I thought I’d let her sleep in."
“Oh right, yeah.”
Another awkward silence descended. God, why didn’t Sam know how to talk to his own brother? It didn’t used to be like this.
Thankfully, Eileen came to the rescue. “Why don’t we eat breakfast? We brought donuts.”
“Nice, thanks,” Dean nodded and led them away from the front door and into the cabin.
They settled at the small kitchen table and Sam distributed the goodies from their little bag of treats. The cabin was small. A kitchen was tucked away in the corner and there was a TV and an old leather couch in the living room. There was one bedroom on this floor and a stairway against the wall that led to the loft.
“So, uh, Dean,” Sam started. “We thought we’d show you guys around the town today. We can introduce you to some people and you can see what we’re all about.”
“Yeah, that’d be great Sammy,” Dean said. He took a large bite of his bear claw. He chewed a bit before continuing, “Claire’s really excited. She, uh, she saw the school when we drove in, so…” He took a sip of his coffee.
“Dean, can I ask, what’s your relationship with Claire?” Sam hesitated. “Is she your…daughter?”
Charlie and Gabriel had theorized at length as to the nature of Dean and Claire’s relationship on the drive home. Charlie had guessed that she was some secret half-sister that Sam didn’t know about. Gabriel, on the other hand, was insistent that Claire was Dean's girlfriend, despite the fact that Sam assured him that Dean was definitely not a pedophile. However, based on Dean’s comments about raising a teenager, they eventually concluded that Claire could be his daughter.
“What?” Dean looked absolutely scandalized. His mouth hung open and Sam could see bits of chewed up donut in his mouth. “Ew, Sammy, of course not. How could I have a kid that old? She’s seventeen. I would’ve had to have had her when I was, like, eleven.”
“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Sam backtracked. Why didn’t he think of that earlier? Had he forgotten how old Dean was? Dean was always a mythic figure in his mind growing up. He was Sam’s parent and protector. He had more memories of Dean raising him than his own father. Sam was embarrassed to realize that he had forgotten that Dean was only four years older than him. “I guess I just… You obviously care a lot about her so I wasn’t sure.”
Dean sighed. “She didn’t have anyone to take care of her. She… she got pegged as a mutant by her foster family. We met and I took her in,” Dean shrugged his shoulders, as if it was that simple.
“But why? Why would you do that for a kid you don’t know?”
“I don’t know Sam, guess she reminded me of someone,” Dean said pointedly. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean smirked.
“Speaking of which, are you two…” Dean gestured between Sam and Eileen with the half-eaten donut.
Sam coughed into his fist, clearing his throat. “Uh, yeah Dean. Eileen is my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for almost a year now.” He grabbed her hand and held them together on top of the table. Now that they were touching again, he could feel the calming presence of Eileen’s mind.
Although Sam’s knowledge of sign language was beginner at best, he and Eileen had no trouble communicating. Eileen’s telepathic talents allowed them to seamlessly share their thoughts and feelings, as long as they were touching. Some people might have been uncomfortable with the fact that their girlfriend could read their mind if she wanted to. But it was a two-way street. Sam could feel Eileen’s emotions as well, her concern for him, her joy that this was going well, her disgust when she saw Dean chewing with his mouth open. He could feel all of her through their intertwined fingers.
“Aw, good for you guys,” Dean slapped him on the arm good naturedly. The tight ball of nerves in Sam’s chest began to loosen a bit. “He’s not giving you any trouble, is he?” Dean said to Eileen.
Eileen chuckled, “No, he’s been a perfect gentleman. He even bought me flowers when he asked me out on our first date.” Fondness and affection flowed through their connection.
Dean laughed, a hearty happy sound. “Looks like I taught you well kiddo,” Sam’s chest loosened even more and a shy smile came to his face.
They ate and chatted a bit more before footsteps started coming down the stairs. Claire trudged over to them with the remnants of yesterday’s eyeliner still smudged under her eyes and her hair messy and wild. She looked like an exhausted panda.
“Ugh, god, why do you guys have to be so loud? Don’t you know what time it is?”
“Time to get a watch, sunshine,” Dean smirked in between bites.
“Ha ha. You're so funny,” Claire said as she took the empty seat beside Dean. Dean immediately got up and poured her a glass of water from the tap. He set it down in front of her and shoved a chocolate doughnut in her direction. Sam’s heart did a funny flip-flop in his chest as he remembered how Dean would pour milk into his cereal every morning because the gallon of milk was too heavy for him. Even when Sam was well into his teens and that excuse no longer made any sense.
You must be Claire, my name is Eileen,” she introduced herself.
“And we already met last night, but I’m Sam, Dean’s brother,” he added.
Claire looked up from her breakfast sheepishly and said hello to the both of them. She asked Eileen, “Are you a mutant too?”
“I am,” Eileen beamed.
“Is everyone in this town a mutant?”
“Not everyone, but a lot of us are,” Sam replied. “Many people, like me and Eileen, came here on our own. But a lot of people moved here with their whole family when one of them presented as exceptional. This whole town has been created to be a safe place for us, where we can be ourselves without having to worry about society or the government trying to shame or hurt us. If you’re up for it, we were planning on giving you guys the grand tour today?”
Claire paused eating her doughnut and looked over at Dean.
Dean sighed and said “Finish your breakfast first.”
***
“All right,” Sam said as they walked along the main street of Eden Falls. “This is pretty much it.”
He gestured around at the dozen or so shops that made up what counted as their “downtown.” Gabriel's bakery was to their left on the corner, painted a bright bubblegum pink. Sam still had paint on his jeans from that day. At the north end of the street was the brick post office, a small operation run by Rufus Turner. Next door was the general store, which was filled with everything from groceries to clothing to toys. In the middle of the street was the bookstore, which was owned and operated by Chuck and Becky. Sam got books from there regularly and loved trading recommendations, even if Becky only ever suggested cheesy romance novels. Across the street was the hardware store, which was run by Jesse and Cesar, who had been together for 15 years. The south end of the street was home to a few more shops, including a coffee shop, a clothing boutique, Dr. Moseley’s clinic, and The Roadhouse. Sam explained all this and shared stories as they slowly meandered along the sidewalk.
“So, what do you think so far?” Sam turned to Dean and Claire to gauge their reactions. He was especially interested to see what Dean thought. Of course, Sam wanted him to like the town and the people here. They had become like family to Sam over the last few years. Even though Sam was a full-grown adult who definitely didn’t need his brother’s approval, he anxiously watched Dean’s expression.
“It’s nice, Sammy,” Dean said. “But, it’s kinda small. I thought you hated small town living? You don’t get bored here?”
“It may be small, but there’s still a lot to keep us busy. Besides the fact that we can stay off the grid in a place like this, we are also able to create a tight-knit community. Everyone here knows everyone, and we all help each other out.”
"Yeah, I bet that's real exciting. Maybe we can start a book club or something. Or maybe we can all braid each other’s hair on the weekends. That sounds like a blast."
"Make fun of it all you want, Dean, but this place is something special. For all of us. At least give it a real chance,” Sam looked Dean dead in the eye to show just how serious he was about this place.
Dean met his gaze for a moment, before heaving a great sigh. “I'll give it a chance. But I'm not making any promises.”
Sam’s smile was a bit brittle as he replied, "That's all I ask.”
As they approached the end of the block, Sam got ready to turn the group around, but was stopped by Eileen's gentle touch on the back of his hand.
“Let’s stop at Enchanted Earth,” Eileen suggested aloud. “We can say hi to Max and Alicia, if they’re there.”
“Good idea,” Sam agreed. He turned to Claire, “They’re about the same age as you, so if you go to school here, they’ll be in your class.” Claire had been just as stone-faced as Dean up till now, but Sam was pretty sure he saw a sparkle of interest in her eye.
Sam and Eileen led the group down the street a bit, away from the main drag to the Enchanted Earth gardening store. The small wood-paneled building sat in a large lot overflowing with plants of all shapes and sizes. There were flowers, vegetables, herbs, and even some trees. There was a wrought-iron fence around the perimeter and the entryway was through an arch covered in ivy. Sam had to duck a little as he passed under in order to not bump his head. They walked through the maze of plants until they found the store. The window boxes were filled with flowers, and the door was propped open to let in the fresh air.
Inside, the shelves were stocked with gardening supplies, such as fertilizer, soil, and tools. Behind the counter stood Tasha Banes, who had been running the place for a few years now.
“Hey Tasha, how’s it going?”
“Doing pretty well Sam,” she replied with a warm smile. “How ‘bout you? I see we’ve got some new faces in town.”
“This is Dean, my brother,” Sam gestured at Dean, who gave a small wave. “And this is Claire. We're just giving them a tour and thought we’d stop in.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you both. Always happy to welcome newcomers,” Tasha said. She reached out to a small, wilting plant on the counter in front of her. Tasha placed her hand on it and the plant started to change. Its leaves turned greener and grew fuller as they sprung upward toward the sky. Several stems grew out and flowers began to blossom and unfurl into bright yellow bunches.
“You–you–” Claire stuttered, mouth agape. She pointed an accusatory finger at Tasha. “How’d you do that?”
“What, this? It’s my talent,” Tasha answered, nonplussed.
“Talent?” Claire sounded confused.
“You know, my ability. I was born with the power to help plants grow and thrive, basically.”
“And you can just do that? Out in the open?”
“Why not?” She smiled. “It’s my store. I can do whatever I want.”
Claire was looking at Tasha like she had just proclaimed herself a witch and sacrificed a goat right in front of her eyes. Dean was looking between Sam and Tasha, like he was waiting for someone to stop her. Sam had a brief moment of panic as he wondered if Dean was going to start lecturing her about using her talents. Sam had been on the receiving end of those lectures more times than he could count. He could almost hear Dean’s voice now.
Stop it, Sam! You can’t do that kind of thing, it’s not safe.
But Dean! It’s just us here! Why can’t I use it? I wanna practice!
Practice keeping it under control! You don’t need to use it, just hide it and forget that it even exists. Do you want the government to come and take you away?
In the end, Dean kept silent, but his disapproval was clearly visible on his face.
“All the exceptional people here in town use their talents freely,” Tasha was saying. “It’s why I brought my kids to this place. So that they could grow up without having to hide their true potential.”
"Yes, here in Eden Falls, we don’t have to worry about being reported to the government, so many people use their talents openly," Sam said, carefully avoiding looking at Dean. Dean stiffened and looked away, pretending to examine some of the gardening tools on a nearby shelf.
“Are Max and Alicia here, by the way?” Eileen asked. “We were hoping they could talk to Claire about the school.”
“Sorry, no,” Tasha said with an apologetic smile. “They’re not here right now. I think they’re hanging out with Kevin.”
As they said their goodbyes and walked back toward main street, Claire and Dean fell into step behind Sam and Eileen.
Sam overheard Claire ask, "Dean, are you okay?"
Dean’s answer was quick and short, "Yeah, I’m fine."
***
“Let me introduce you to some more people," Sam said as he opened the door and beckoned them inside The Roadhouse Diner. He had told some of the town’s important players his plan for the morning and they had agreed to come meet Dean and Claire. The bell chimed as Sam walked through and he spotted Jo behind the counter and Benny in the kitchen. He gave Jo a little wave as they all filled in.
The Roadhouse was the gathering place of the town. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, with photos and memorabilia of the town and its residents decorating the wood paneled walls. Most nights, this place was pretty bustling. The bar was a pretty big draw and a lot of events were hosted on the stage in the corner. However, it wasn’t even noon yet so the place was pretty empty. In a booth at the far end sat Pam, Jody, and Donna. They smiled brightly as the group walked in. Sam led them all over and started introducing everyone.
“Hey everyone, this is my brother, Dean, and this is Claire. This is Pam, Jody, and Donna. Donna is the mayor of the town and Jody is the sheriff. Pam is one of the teachers at the school.” Sam didn’t miss the way Claire perked up when he introduced Pam. Dean was right about her being excited.
“Hello you two! It’s so nice to meet you,” Donna said, her midwestern accent poking through. “We're so glad you got here safely.”
“Nice to meet you all,” Dean smiled, his eyes wandered over the ladies and settled on Pam. Oh god, Sam hoped he didn’t start flirting with her. Dean had always been a chronic flirt growing up. Well, if Dean started anything, Sam was sure that Pam could give him a run for his money.
They all sat down in the booth, pushing together so they could all fit around the table. It was a large, circular table in the corner of the diner meant to fit a group. But with seven people, it was a bit of a squeeze.
“As the mayor of Eden Falls, it is my pleasure to welcome you to town,” Donna started on her opening spiel,which she gave to everybody who moved to Eden falls. “We pride ourselves on being a safe and inclusive community for everyone, especially those born with exceptional talents. There are many people who have been in similar situations as you. A lot of folks were reported or flagged by the government, only to be hunted down like animals. There are also people here who have escaped from reservations, where reports indicate that life is not as rosy as those internet puff pieces want you to think.
“This town is a place where exceptional people and their loved ones can be safe. Where they don’t have to hide their talents. So, I’m sure you’ve seen some folks using their talents out in the open. We encourage everyone to live freely.”
“What do you guys think so far? Any questions?” Jody asked.
"Yeah, I got some questions,” Dean said, leaning forward on the table. He looked like a private eye from one of those old movies getting ready to interrogate a suspect by shining a bright light in their face.
“Fire away,” Donna said with a smile.
“I keep hearing you guys say ‘exceptional’, that means mutant right? What’s the deal with that?”
“The term 'mutant' is used by the government to ‘other’ those with extraordinary talents. By making the public believe that they are different and dangerous, the government can justify their persecution and discrimination in society,” Donna explained. She herself did not have any of the talents that exceptional people had, but that didn’t mean that this issue wasn’t close to home for her. “The government sees them as a threat. I’m sure you’re aware of the rise in anti-mutant policies around the country? We are trying to do the opposite, by creating a label that celebrates the strengths and gifts of exceptional people rather than dehumanizing them.”
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Alright then, how do you keep this place hidden from the Feds?” Dean prodded, arms crossed as he stared right at Jody.
“We have a couple of people who use their wonderful talents to help keep us safe,” Jody answered, unfazed. It was a common question they got from newcomers. “Charlie for instance– you met her last night– keeps us from having any internet presence. That and the fact that there is no through road through the town stops most people from wandering in. We have some other people, like Pam here, who can sense when a government agent comes close and can steer them away.”
Pam added, “As long as we keep under the radar, and everyone follows the rules, we’re safe. We haven’t had any incidents in years.”
“What do you mean by ‘rules’?” Dean scowled a bit and Sam could see the muscles of his jaw tighten.
“There are simple rules that we ask everyone to follow. Some of the main ones being, don’t post online or on social media, be careful with who you communicate with outside of the town, and don’t bring anyone here who can’t be trusted.”
Dean nodded but didn’t seem convinced.
Claire spoke up, asking Pam, “Sam said you're a teacher? What do you teach?”
“I teach English Language Arts to all the students here in town. There are a couple girls here your age that you would probably get along with. You’re seventeen right?”
“Yes, but,” Claire bit her lip. Sam didn’t miss how Dean casually reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “I haven’t been to school since I was in ninth grade.”
“That’s not a problem, we have students here of all different levels. Even adults,” she looked at Dean and winked.
Dean stared at her, brow furrowed. “I’ve got my GED, thanks. I already did my time.”
Pam barked out a short laugh, “Just thought I’d check. The school also teaches people who struggle with their talents.” She gave Dean another pointed look.
Now Dean's furrowed brow turned into a real frown, “What does that mean?
“It means that you and Claire can learn how to control your talents, to use them to the best of your ability. Sam here is actually a great help–”
“What are you talking about Pam?” Sam interrupted. He looked between her and Dean. “Dean doesn't have a talent, he’s–” But his mouth snapped closed when he looked at the expression on Dean’s face. His mouth was open wide and his eyebrows had shot up his forehead. Dean was looking around the table, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes. He settled on Pam.
“How did you know that?” He stammered.
Pam said nervously, “I can sense if someone is an exceptional person. I’m sorry I didn’t realize…”
Sam didn't understand what he was hearing. Dean was a mutant too? No, that couldn’t be right. Sam always got this strange feeling in his veins whenever he was around someone exceptional. Spending time around all his friends and people here in the town, he had gotten used to the feeling. But, Sam had never felt that from Dean growing up and even now he couldn’t sense anything from his brother. Besides that, Dean always said…
“Dean, is that true?” Sam said. “Are you…?”
Dean didn’t say anything. He refused to look Sam in the eye. Irritation began to simmer in Sam’s blood. He wanted answers.
“How long have you known?” Sam demanded. “When did your powers manifest?”
“That’s none of your business,” Dean answered sharply.
“Well it is my business, actually, considering I’m your freaking brother!”
Sam, calm down, Eileen's voice came to him in his head. Eileen’s worry and concern leaked through their connection, but it was drowned out by the rising tide of Sam’s anger. Dean’s words, the words that he had practically shoved down Sam’s throat all throughout his life, were echoing in his head.
Stop using your powers.
Do you want to get caught?
You have to act normal.
Why can’t you be normal?
“Look, it doesn't affect you–” Dean slammed a hand down on the table, making plates and silverware clatter.
“It does affect me, Dean! If you've been lying to me my whole life, I deserve to know!”
Dean shot up from the table and began to shove his way out of the booth.
“Where are you going?” Sam was fuming. He felt his heart beating loudly in his chest and it was getting hard to think through his anger.
“Anywhere but here, that’s for fuckin’ sure.”
“Dean–”
And with that, the door to the diner slammed shut and Dean practically ran down the sidewalk.
***
Dean couldn’t get out of that restaurant fast enough. Did it make him a coward that he practically ran away with his tail between his legs? Absolutely. But as much as he was happy to see Sam again, there was no way he was ready to have that conversation. He shouldn’t have been surprised that there were others out there who could sense mutants. But he just hadn’t thought about it. A fuckin’ landmine, thats what it was. And Dean had stepped right onto it.
He couldn’t get past the look on Sam’s face. He’d looked so upset and betrayed. Dean hated it. Dean was still reeling from the fact that they had found each other again. Seeing Sam in the police station like that, long floppy hair and taller than he remembered, Dean had thought he was dreaming. There was so much Dean wanted to say, so much that he wanted to know. And he fucking blew it on day one.
Seeing Sam after all this time…he was so different. Dean had lived a whole lifetime in the six years they’d been apart, and he got the feeling that Sam had too. Sam didn’t go into details about how he came to live here. But it must have been serious enough to make him drop out of Stanford, his dream school that he’d worked so hard to get into and had ditched Dean for. The ache of Sam’s loss was still so present, even after all this time. He had spent the past few years anxiously wondering what had happened to Sam. Had he been caught and sent to the reservations? To Purgatory? Or did he just not want to see Dean ever again? And it turned out that all this time, he’d been living it up in small town America. It still didn’t feel real.
Dean knew that in order to have any kind of relationship again, he would have to be honest with Sam. But that still didn't mean that he knew how to be honest with him. Should he tell Sam about when he manifested his powers? Should he even tell him what those powers were? Could Dean trust Sam with that? Would Sam think of him differently once he knew the truth? And how on earth was Dean going to tell him that he was a sex worker? All of these truths were just so mixed up with each other, that it was hard to separate them. At least the fact that he was bisexual was tame in comparison and the least likely one for Sam to get upset about, considering he was such a liberal hippy.
Dean walked for a long time, replaying that conversation over and over again in his mind. The what-ifs nagged at him like rock stuck in the toe of his boot. He had intended to go back to the place he and Claire were staying at. But as he walked, he realized that he didn’t recognize the street anymore. The road had begun to narrow and wind deeper into the woods. He had been walking for a while now, longer than the walk into town with Sammy this morning.
Dean cursed to himself. He had definitely taken a wrong turn. He turned around to start heading back the way he came. But as he turned around, he saw a house in the woods beside the road that he had missed before.
The house was small and unassuming, with a steep roof and a wooden exterior. It was nestled in a clearing in the woods, far from the road. The only way to get to it was by a winding path that led through the trees. Dean walked a little closer to get a better look. The house was hard to see from the road, and it seemed to be almost hiding in the woods. But Dean spotted someone crouched over on the ground. They were too far away to see clearly if it was a man or a woman. Either way, Dean wasn’t above asking for directions, especially if it would keep him from getting totally lost.
He walked up the stone path closer to the house. The house was surrounded by a garden, which was full of flowers, vegetables and other plants Dean couldn’t identify. He couldn’t tell before from the road, but this place was so overflowing with plants, that it looked like it could be on the cover of one of those gardening magazines you always see in the checkout line in the grocery store. There was even a birdbath in the front.
As he got closer, he realized that the person crouching on the ground was a man. The man had on a hat and gloves and was digging a little hole in the dirt of the garden. He was facing away from Dean, which gave him a great view of his broad shoulders, nicely sloped back and wait…was that a tail? A long tail, blue and pointed like a cartoon devil’s, was coming out from the waistband of the guy’s pants.
Dean wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking, too busy staring at the tail that slowly twitched from side to side. He accidentally stepped on some kind of shovel thing, causing it to clatter loudly against the stone walkway. Dean flung his arms out to the sides in an attempt to not fall flat on his face, but the noise had caused the man to turn toward him sharply. His eyes were wide and surprised, and he stood up quickly and backed away. Dean felt a pang of guilt at having startled him so badly.
“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that,” Dean held up his hands and took a half-step back to give him some space. “I, uh…I got lost. I was just wondering if you could tell me how to get back to town?”
The man looked back at Dean cautiously. Dean instantly recognized him as that guy from last night. Really, how often did you meet someone who looked like they were auditioning for Blue Man Group? Although, Dean definitely didn’t remember him having a tail yesterday.
This guy wasn’t the first person Dean had seen with such obvious differences marking him as a mutant. He had encountered a couple others during his time in the business. It was pretty hard to get laid when you had reptilian skin or cat eyes or whatever. Dean, sympathetic to their situation, would give them a discount.
“Oh, um,” the teleportation guy said. What was his name again? Dean was pretty sure Sam had said it yesterday. “If you go down the road that way,” the man pointed in the direction Dean came from, “and take two right turns, you can get back to town.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
“You’re Cas? Right? You–”
“Castiel,” he interrupted.
“Oh, Castiel. Sorry.” Awk-ward, Dean said to himself. He powered on. “You helped us out yesterday. I don’t think I really said thank you. I really appreciate you getting us out of there.”
“Oh,” Castiel blinked a few times. “You're welcome.”
Silence descended and Dean and Castiel were just left staring at each other. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on the heels of his feet. He didn’t know what to say but he didn’t want to leave. He realized that he totally ditched Claire and that he should go back for her, but he wasn’t ready to face Sam quite yet. He figured he could linger for a minute, dissolve some of this tension before he made his excuses.
Besides, he may be blue but Castiel was hot. Tall, dark and handsome, just the way Dean liked ‘em. Well, Castiel was about the same height as Dean, but that just made it easier to look into his eyes. Damn, they were gorgeous. Just as vibrant blue as the rest of him.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you lived here?” Dean ventured. There. That was an easy question. He had already shoved his foot in his mouth once today, Dean didn’t need to do it again by asking him something stupid like Why do you have a freakin’ tail?
“About five years now.”
“Nice. How do you like it?”
“It is definitely preferable to living in Purgatory.”
“Well you can say that again,” Dean agreed, smiling a bit at Castiel’s deadpan delivery.
Castiel stared at him, wrinkling his brow and tilting his head a little to the side. His tail swished from side to side behind him. That was…cute. “Why would I say it again?”
“Uh,” Dean stuttered. Was this guy being serious? “It’s an expression. It means that I, uh, agree with you.”
“Oh,” Castiel replied. A little blush came to his cheeks. Dean realized he was embarrassed and how could he possibly find that even cuter? Dean was not used to that kind of thing. Nervous? Sure. Inexperienced? Oh, yeah. But shy? Most people he dealt with had gotten over whatever embarrassment or repression that had been holding them back before they decided to book him. Dean shook his head a bit to snap himself out of it. This was not the time to be crushing on a hot guy. He was homeless and his life was falling to pieces. Priorities, Dean. Priorities.
“Well, yes,” Castiel continued. “Eden Falls is quite ideal. I am able to have a house and a garden. I can go outside and make friends. It is certainly better than the cells in Purgatory."
Shock was Dean’s immediate reaction. The way he said that…deadpan, again, like it was fact. Like he wasn’t joking.
“You were actually–sorry, am I getting this right? You were in Purgatory?” Dean asked incredulously. He was pretty sure his eyes were gonna bulge out of their sockets.
Castiel tilted his head again.
“Yes, I was.”
“Holy shit, dude.” Dean said lamely, for lack of anything better to say. What do you say when someone tells you they escaped the most secure prison in the country? “I didn’t think that was possible, but…I guess if anyone could escape it would be someone who could teleport, right?”
“Yes, my talent was an essential component to my escape.”
Dean looked again at Castiel, and saw him differently. With skin like that, pointed ears and a devil tail, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Castiel was shipped off the moment he was born. That was the case for a lot of mutants who were born with obvious physical mutations.
As much trouble as Dean’s powers gave him throughout his life, at least no one would look at him and immediately peg him as a mutant. Dean felt a little guilty about how grateful he was for not having to walk around looking like a Smurf.
“Well, I guess I should head back now, huh?” Dean said, sticking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the town. His goal to stop digging up skeletons had failed once again. His foot was now right back in his mouth, and he wasn’t even working right now. “I don’t want to keep bothering you.”
“It’s alright, Dean. I am not bothered.”
“Oh, good,” Dean said. Another silence hung over them. Dean didn’t know if that meant he should leave or not, so he just blurted out the next question that came to his mind. “Do you know Sam very well?”
“Yes, I do. I consider him a friend.”
“Nice. Well, uh, how is he here? I mean, is he doing well?”
Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed a bit and his tail swished again, curling up a little at the tip. “Has he not told you about it himself?”
“Well, yeah he has, a bit. I met Eileen, his girlfriend,” Castiel probably already knew that. “She’s nice. They obviously like each other. But I mean, I guess I can't help but feel like this is all some weird dream, ya know? Like I finally see Sam after all these years and he’s living in some mutant paradise? Seems a bit weird to me, is all.” And by weird, Dean meant totally suspicious.
“That is understandable. I also thought that this place was unreal when I first arrived.”
“Yeah, exactly. Claire and I just met with Pam, Jody, and Donna. And they were saying that this place is totally safe and welcoming, but it sounded a little too good to be true to me. They were also going on about all these rules you gotta follow if you live here. Kinda like a cult.”
I can assure you, Dean, that this place is what it appears. It is not without its problems but…” Castiel got this far away look in his eyes. “Everyone really enjoys their lives here.”
Dean nodded away. Despite Castiel’s endorsement of Eden Falls, Dean got the feeling that Castiel wasn’t exactly included in the “everyone” he was going on about. Something about Castiel’s house, tucked off the main street and into the shelter of the forest, gave Dean the impression that he wasn’t exactly on the social committee.
Dean exhaled a long sigh, “I know Claire is excited. But I don't know yet. I’m gonna need some time.”
“Of course, that is very reasonable.” Castiel said. “But I can tell you, everyone that we have brought here has decided to stay.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“That’s pretty cool, I guess. But…” Dean trailed off. The fight with Sam just now was still so fresh. He couldn’t help but be afraid that Sam wouldn’t want him here anymore.
“If you have any doubt or questions, you should talk to Sam. I don't have very good ‘people skills.’” Dean had to strangle the urge to laugh in Castiel’s face. He was obviously shy and just admitted that he isn’t good with people, but come on. He just used honest-to-god air quotes when he said that. Who was this guy?
“Hey, you’ve been doing pretty good so far,” Dean assured him with a warm smile. “I actually,” he paused. “Sam and I got into a bit of a fight just now. So…”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Castiel said.
“It’s cool, it's not like we’ve never fought before. Growing up practically on top of each other means that we've gone at it a lot. But I didn’t want to fight with him on practically the first day we’ve seen each other in years. Ya know?”
“Sorry, I don’t know. I don’t have any siblings.”
Now at this, Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. He brought his hand to his mouth and laughed into his fist and tried to cover it with a cough.
“Anyway, I really should get back. I don’t want to leave Claire all alone.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thanks for the help, Castiel.”
“You’re welcome, Dean.”
Now it was Dean’s turn to blush. The way Castiel said his name with that deep voice…Yeah, it was time to go.
He quickly waved goodbye and turned away to head back down the road. He shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind as he made his way down the path and back onto the street.
***
Castiel’s directions got him back to main street, but then Dean wandered around a bit trying to get back to the cabin. He eventually made it back after asking for directions again from a guy with a mullet named Ash. Dean walked past the Impala and into the cabin, only to find that when he opened the door, Claire was sitting on the couch inside. Damn, she was waiting for him to get back like some 50’s housewife ready to lecture her deadbeat husband.
“Thanks for ditching me, asshole,” Claire glared at him from her place on the couch. Looks like she planned on giving him the third degree straight off the bat. It had been about an hour since he’d stormed off, but it felt way longer.
“Sorry about that,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by his outburst.
“What the hell was that all about, anyway? Sam didn’t know that you’re a mutant? Why didn’t you tell him?” she demanded.
Dean’s heart stopped in his chest as a cruel realization knocked the wind out of him. Claire knew too much. And she had been alone with them. For an hour. What did she say? Did she tell them that he could—“Claire, you didn’t tell them anything, did you?”
“What? What do you–”
“Claire, listen to me. This is very important,” Dean stressed each word. He needed Claire to understand how serious he was. “Did you tell them about my powers?”
“Uh, no, Dean,” Claire realized that Dean wasn’t kidding around. “I didn’t say anything. After you left, it was super awkward. So Jody walked me back here. We just talked about other stuff.”
Dean huffed a huge sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping down from where they had crowded up against his ears. Well, at least that’s one landmine he managed to avoid. “Look, Claire, I’m sorry for blowing up back there. But… you have to understand that you can’t tell anyone about my powers. And before you say anything, let me tell you why.”
Dean took a deep breath and sat down next to her on the worn leather couch. “You remember what I told you? When we first met?”
She nodded seriously. “You said that if I didn’t want it anymore… If I wanted to live a normal life, you could take my powers away.”
“Yeah, I did,” Dean knew she would remember. They hadn’t known each other for very long when he had offered that to her. He had only done that once before, and that was because it was the only way to keep Lisa and Ben safe. But Dean had wanted to help Claire, and by giving up her powers, she could have lived a more normal life. It would have been a very easy out for her. Claire hadn’t taken it.
“Claire, you need to listen to me very carefully,” Dean looked her dead in the eye as he spoke. “You can’t tell anyone, no matter what. Just ‘cause everyone here is free with their powers and uses them to tie their shoes or wipe their ass or whatever, doesn’t mean that I can. Because if it gets out... if the government finds out about what I can do, they would definitely come after me and use me. I am exactly what they are looking for. They will make me take away people’s powers, against their will, so that they could eliminate all mutants.”
Claire's eyes went wide. She probably had never considered this.
Dean went on, “The less people who know about what I can do, the better. Right now, it’s just you and me. Sam may be my brother, but I haven’t seen him in years. I don’t know how he’d react if he knew and I can’t risk this getting out. You're the only one I can trust, Claire. We are a team, and I need you to have my back on this one.”
His own safety and preventing the government from finding him was definitely part of the reason for his secrecy. The noble part. But the other reason why Dean wanted to keep it a secret had to do with how he took people's powers. And how he found out about it. The shame and trauma just ran too deep for him to share with anyone, especially Claire. Although she had lived a tough life, tougher than most people by her age, she was still way too young to hear about it.
"Claire, you know what it feels like to trust someone with your secret, only to have them report you,” Dean continued. “I need you to trust me on this.” Claire had been living with her foster family for over a year when she had confided in her foster sister about her abilities. The girl had asked for Claire to demonstrate, which quickly got out of control, causing a small house fire. No one was hurt, and Claire begged the girl to keep it a secret. But she went running to her parents anyway. Bringing up Claire’s past might’ve been a bit below the belt, but he needed to make sure Claire would keep his secret.
“Okay,” she replied. “I promise. I won’t tell anyone. No matter what.”
Dean felt a wave of relief wash over him. He knew Claire was good for her word. She was just as stubborn as he was, and just as loyal.
“Thank you,” he gave her a small smile. “And, I'm really sorry for ditching you back there. I just… They caught me off guard and I didn’t know what to say, so I just booked it.”
“It’s okay, I get it,” Claire said. “Just don’t do it again.”
“No problem.”
Claire looked down at the floor. She was clearly going to ask him something else, so he waited patiently. After a moment, she asked meekly, “I get why you don’t want to tell anyone, but… does that mean you want to leave?”
“Do you want to?” Dean tried not to let any bias seep into his tone. He knew that Claire was excited by this place. That much was obvious from the tour this morning. Claire might think she had a pretty good poker face, but Dean could read her like a book. After they’d seen Tasha using her powers to grow those plants, Claire had been sold on this place. Dean, on the other hand, was not ready to buy.
“I…” Claire paused. She bit her lip between her teeth. “I think I wanna try it here. Jody was telling me all about the school on the walk back here. She said that I could start in the fall and that I could even make up some of the stuff I missed over the summer. She also said that…” Claire looked up at him with a sure expression. “She said that they could teach me how to control my powers at school.”
Dean’s fists clenched at his sides and his jaw tightened as he held back the urge to insist that it wasn’t safe. This was important to her. He knew that. And she knew that he would have reservations about it. All of Dean’s life, his priority was to keep Sam, then Lisa and Ben, and now Claire out of harm’s way. And the best way to do that, the only way he knew how to do that, was to never tell anyone you were a mutant and to never use your powers. That worked just fine for him, but for Sam, Ben, and Claire, it was different. Claire especially. Her powers could be extremely visual and extremely destructive. They were also fueled by her emotions. She really struggled to keep them in check when she was grieving her mom. Bottling it all in just makes fires come out against her will.
Since they’d known each other, Dean had helped Claire reign in her abilities. Dean was a masterclass in repressing trauma and emotions. Even though he knew it wasn’t healthy, he didn’t know what else he could do. It’s not like Claire could just practice, one wrong move and she would set everything on fire. But here was a chance for her to do something different. To practice using her abilities and to learn to control them. Although Dean didn’t agree, he needed to do what was best for Claire. Learning to control her powers would be helpful for her in the long run. Dean had had to do the same thing, even though it had sickened him to his core.
“If you want to live here, then I’ll stay here too,” Dean said. Claire looked slightly surprised and then a smile came to her face.
“Really?”
“Yup! You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Dean said, grinning. “Besides, without me, who’s gonna wake your ass up for school in the mornings? I’m thinking 4:30 am sounds about right.”
Claire looked absolutely horrified, “No way! If you try to wake me up that early, I’ll burn your eyebrows off.”
“Ok, 4:45 then.”
Dean couldn’t stop laughing, even as a couch pillow decked him in the face.
Chapter 3
Notes:
Thank you for all the comments and support. I'm really enjoying writing this and, overall, just having an absolute blast. Obviously, I was very inspired by X-men, as some people in the comments have noticed.
Trigger warning for this chapter. There are some discussions and mentions of Dean engaging in sex work while he was a minor. There is nothing graphic or detailed, but it is brought up, and some characters' reactions are not exactly positive. I would also like to add that the thoughts and opinions that Dean and other characters have on sex work in general do not reflect my own and are merely part of the story and serve to create drama or to give depth to Dean's character.
Anyway, if you think there are any more warnings or tags that I should add, please let me know. Enjoy!
Chapter Text
The morning of day two in Eden falls dawned and Dean realized he had absolutely nothing to make for breakfast. They had managed to make do with grabbing some takeout burgers last night for dinner. But as Dean opened cabinet after cabinet in the tiny kitchen, he realized that he would have to go into town to get something for them to eat.
Dean sighed, admitting defeat. If they were gonna be here a while he might as well go to the grocery store and get stocked up. He quickly made a mental note of what he wanted to get as he got changed and headed out to the Impala. Claire was still asleep, of course. God forbid she wake up before eleven of her own volition. So he went alone. The town wasn't too far a walk from the cabin, but Dean planned to get a lot so it would just be easier to drive over instead of trying to carry a ton of bags.
After a short drive, Dean pulled into one of the parking spaces in the small lot next to the grocery store. It was a bit off the main street that they had walked down yesterday and Dean had no trouble remembering where it was. Dean walked through the automatic doors and into the air-conditioned interior. It looked pretty typical, albeit small. Dean was never one to shop at those fancy overpriced health food stores, so as long as this place had meat, milk, and bread, he would make it work.
Dean grabbed a cart and began to wander up and down the overly-lit aisles, grabbing items off the shelves. The cabin was stocked with things like salt and pepper as well as utensils, silverware, and plates, so Dean didn’t need any of that. He was basically looking to grab enough stuff to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for him and Claire for the next few days. Just while they get all their shit figured out. Not like they had anyplace else to be.
After scanning the shelves for a while, Dean eventually located the Oreos. Claire, the weirdo, liked the mint flavored Oreos while Dean preferred the normal kind. Luckily, they had both, so Dean grabbed a couple packs of each. He figured he could bribe her a little to make up for bailing on her yesterday.
Dean had bent down to grab the cookies so he wasn’t paying much attention to the person who had settled next to him until they spoke.
“Good morning,” a bright cheery voice dragged Dean out of his thoughts. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed the woman getting close to him. She was one of the women he’d met yesterday at the restaurant. The cop. Jody. She had short brown hair and was probably in her forties. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and had one of the store’s shopping baskets slung over her arm filled with food.
“Mornin’,” Dean replied. “Jody, right?”
“Yep, that's me,” she smiled, warm and welcoming. “I just wanted to come say hi and check in on you. How are you doing? You finding everything okay?”
Dean wasn’t sure if she meant here in the grocery store or just the whole town in general. He decided to go with the easier option. “Yeah I’m fine. I was just grabbin’ some stuff.”
“Let me help you with that. Looks like you've got a lot,” Jody said, reaching out to grab one of the packs of Oreos from Dean’s overcrowded arms.
Dean accepted the gesture easily, passing a couple packs to her to lighten the load. He probably hadn’t made a very good first impression on her with that little show yesterday. It wouldn’t hurt to try to mend some bridges, especially if they were gonna be around for a while.
“Yeah, well, there wasn’t much in that cabin to begin with and I figured I’d stock up on essentials.”
“Oreos are an essential?”
“To Claire they are.”
Jody laughed, her eyes crinkling up as the smile overtook her face. “I know what you mean. I also have to feed two teenagers at home, and I know just how much junk food they want to consume on a daily basis.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Dean agreed. “Claire used to only eat, like, hot cheetos and monster energy drinks. I practically had to pull her teeth to get her to eat the stuff she does now.”
That got another laugh out of Jody. Looks like the charm offensive was working.
They made their way up to the checkout and continued chatting for a while while they stood in line. The cashier was some kid Jody recognized, so she said hi to him and asked him about school and his mom and all that. Dean just bagged his groceries himself and gave her a nod as he exited the store.
But as he walked away and back toward the Impala, Jody somehow managed to catch up with him again. Dean was putting the groceries in the backseat when he heard her call his name.
“Hey, Dean,” Jody said, holding her own grocery bag at her hip. “Sorry to stop you, but…Can I take the fact that you are stocking up to mean you guys are planning to stay around for a while?”
Dean was caught off guard by her question, but he guessed that she would naturally be curious about people moving to the town. It seemed like she was on the welcome committee or whatever.
“Yeah, we are,” Dean confirmed. “Claire and I talked about it last night and decided to give it a shot here.”
“That’s great Dean,” Jody said, smiling again so much that her teeth were showing. Dean couldn’t help but smile a little back. “We are all really happy to have you both here. Well, we are always happy to welcome new people, but you must know that there are a lot of people who want you here.”
Obviously she meant Sam. And Eileen and all their friends or whoever. But mostly Sam. Speaking of Sam…
“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday,” Dean admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “That must have been really uncomfortable for you guys. And thank you so much for walking Claire back, that was really nice of you. I feel bad for you having to do that.”
“Oh no,” Jody said, raising her hand to wave off his concern. “It was no problem. Claire’s a great kid.”
“Yeah, she is,” Dean agreed. Well, when she wants to be. His thoughts went back to their conversation last night. Even though Dean had agreed to give this place a try, for Claire’s sake, it didn't mean he was gonna just send her to some random school with a mutant bootcamp without checking it out first.
“Speaking of Claire, she said that you guys talked about the school?”
“Yeah, I told her all about it. There are quite a few kids around her age here, so she should make plenty of friends.”
“Well, that’s good,” Dean said. It would be nice for her to make some friends. Claire hadn’t interacted with many people her age in a while. Dean was pretty sure she had a coworker who was eighteen or so that Claire got along with. But that was it, really. Still, that was not Dean’s main concern.
“She also said that she could practice her powers at the school?”
“Yes,” Jody nodded. “They have academic classes in the morning and in the afternoon, as part of PE, they practice controlling their talents.”
“Is it…safe?”
Jody gave him a reassuring smile, “We have a lot of adults who supervise and ensure that everyone is safe. We haven’t had any serious incidents besides some scrapes and bruises.”
“And it works? Like the kids can learn to control their powers?”
“Yes. All the teachers are experts at helping the students focus their talents and learn to grow them. Sam is actually one of the best with that.”
“Huh, really?” Dean was actually really happy to hear that. His smile grew wide and pride filled his chest. Gushing about Sam was always easy for him. “Sam didn’t mention that he was a teacher here. But he was such a brainiac as a kid that I’m not surprised. He loved school. He wouldn’t even skip when I tried to take him to a concert when he was sixteen because he had a project due or something. What does he teach?”
Jody chuckled, “Yeah, that sounds like Sam. But he’s not actually a full-time teacher, he just helps out with the training. His talent is amazing, I’ve never seen anything like it. He can really bring out the best in people.”
“Huh?” Dean raised one eyebrow. He wasn’t sure how being a human electrical panel was super helpful. But maybe he was good at controlling his powers? And that’s how he helped people?
“I didn’t realize electrical powers were so rare, I mean I hear about mutants having it all the time on the news.” Dean could remember a couple of stories about “terrorist” mutants plotting attacks on the power grid using their abilities who were subsequently captured by the righteous authorities just in the nick of time.
“Huh?” Jody mimicked his confusion. Her eyes went a little wide as she stared at him. Then a realization came to her as she began to backtrack. She took a step back and started speaking nervously, “Oh, sorry I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Well, Sam,” she said. As if that explained anything. “You know about his talent?”
Of course Dean knew about Sam’s powers. He was the one telling Sam day in and day out not to use them in front of other people. No matter how many times Dean told him that he would get taken away, Sam always tried to practice. Dean caught him sneaking out to go practice more and more as Sam got older. It led to a lot of fights and ultimately, Dean knew, Sam’s decision to fuck off to California.
“He can mess with electricity and stuff,” Dean said confidently. “Caused more blackouts and power surges than I could count when he was a kid. One time, I came home to find him sitting in the dark ‘cause he caused a city-wide power outage.”
But for some reason, his explanation did not wipe the concern from Jody’s face. The corners of her mouth turned down and she looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.
“Well–” Jody cut herself off. Dean crossed his arms and was about ready to start prodding.
“‘Well’ what?” he insisted. “Sam is my brother. If there’s something up with him, you have to tell me.” Was there something Dean didn’t know about Sam? Had Sam hidden some aspect of his powers from Dean? Or did something new manifest? Was that why Dean couldn’t find him when he went to California? Sammy should have just told him.
“You should really talk to Sam about this,” Jody closed off and put up a strong defense. Dean opened his mouth to begin to argue but she was too quick. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about something like that without his knowledge.”
He stared at her. What could she be talking about? Sam couldn’t have hidden something like that from him. He wouldn’t have. Dean would’ve found out about it. The muscles of Dean’s jaw were working overtime as he ground his teeth in frustration.
After an uncomfortably long staring contest slash standoff, Dean relented.
“Uh, fine, yeah whatever,” he grumbled. Dean turned back toward Baby and opened the door to get in, unceremoniously ending the conversation.
But Jody had other ideas. He heard her take a deep breath behind him. “Look, why don’t you and Claire come by the school today?” She said, like this was a peace offering. “I can have my girls meet us and we could give you a little tour? You can see what we do and how we can keep her safe while she’s practicing her talents.”
The ball was in Dean’s court now. Dean had no desire to go see their little mutant academy. But…he would do it for Claire. He wanted her to be safe and to learn to control her powers. But there was no way Dean was gonna just let some random strangers “train” her without going to scope it out first.
“That would be nice,” Dean accepted the offer. “I think Claire would like that a lot.”
Jody smiled again, her good humor from before returning. “You're welcome. What’s a good time for you?”
***
Claire took absolutely no convincing when Dean presented her with the opportunity to view the school. Dean practically had to keep her from sprinting out the door the second she was finished with her breakfast/lunch. Dean had slapped some sandwiches together for the two of them, figuring he could make a real dinner later. The walk to school took only about 15 minutes and Dean did not get lost this time. For some reason, he never had a problem getting around while driving. But when he walked, it was a different story. Jody had given them pretty good directions, so they arrived right on time to meet her.
Jody was standing in front of the school entrance with Pam on her left and two teenage girls on her right. They looked to be around the same age as Claire and must have been the girls Jody had mentioned earlier.
“Hey Dean, hey Claire. Great to see you guys again,” Pam greeted them with a smile as they walked up. Dean had initially thought Pam was pretty hot. She had dark wavy hair and was definitely no stranger to the gym. But somehow, whenever Pam smiled, she looked like she was about to take a bite out of you. That, combined with the fact that she had outed him to Sam yesterday, made Dean want to stay far away from her.
“Dean, Claire, let me introduce you to Alex and Kaia,” Jody announced, gesturing to the girls at her side. .
“Nice to meet you, I’m Alex,” the girl on the right said. She had long, dark hair and light skin and she was wearing a T-shirt and jeans.
“And I’m Kaia,” the girl on the left said. She had similarly dark hair, but darker skin and a style more similar to Claire, with dark jeans and some heavy metal long-sleeve shirt.
“Nice to meet you both,” Dean said.
“Yeah, hi, uh, nice to meet you,” Claire greeted them nervously, her words rushing together a little too fast. When Dean glanced over at her, Claire wasn't really looking at anyone and instead focusing on the ground. She must have been more nervous than he’d realized. Dean decided to help her out by taking the lead.
“Thanks for showing us around, hope we’re not bothering you,” He said, smiling wide.
“No, it’s no problem at all. We do this all the time,” Pam replied as she turned around and started opening the front door. “Let’s head on in.”
Dean and Claire walked through the front door of the school which opened up into a main entryway with hallways leading out to either side. The walls were painted with a mural that was obviously done by students at one point. The mural was a colorful and vibrant depiction of what was probably supposed to be important alumni and staff of the school. But it looked a little bit...off. Dean was no art critic, but the proportions were all wrong and the people looked like they were made of play-doh. In the center of the room, an emblem celebrating Marshall High School’s class of 1996 was embedded into the floor.
Dean didn’t really know what he had expected. For some reason, he was picturing a small rundown schoolhouse. Instead he found himself walking the halls of a modern brick building that was probably built in the 70’s or 80’s. Dean had been to school all around the country while he was growing up. He’d seen everything from sprawling open-air west coast campuses to tiny portable classrooms in the middle of a parking lot. Even though there was an air of familiarity, it was also kinda weird to be here as an adult. Dean hadn’t been to school since he’d dropped out senior year. He had done his GED a few years ago, but that was mostly online and with a few in person classes at a community center. As he walked through the maze of classrooms and hallways, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this place just wasn’t meant for him.
Pam pointed out various classrooms and facilities as they walked along. Dean was only half paying attention. He had something much more interesting to focus on than Pam's spiel about when the school was built. Claire kept not so subtly checking her appearance and smoothing down her hair every time they passed a reflective surface. When that girl, Kaia, got a little too close to her, Claire would tense up and look away. She also seemed to be blushing quite a lot, even though the building was nicely air conditioned. Hmmm, interesting.
Dean knew a crush when he saw one. There was one time when Sam was, like, twelve and he got himself his first girlfriend. Dean picked her up from her house in the Impala and took them both to the movies as their chaperone. Sam was so nervous, he could barely talk to her the whole ride there. Even when Dean sat at the back of the theater to give them some privacy, Sam didn’t even try to hold her hand or do anything during the whole date. It was sweet for Dean to see Sam that way, all nervous and inexperienced. It had made him feel like love could be something special. Dean almost, almost didn’t give him shit for being so embarrassed. But as a big brother, he wouldn't have been doing his job if he hadn’t teased Sam mercilessly. Just like he was definitely going to do to Claire when they got back to the cabin. The outer corners of Dean’s mouth ticked up in a little smile.
They walked down another hallway. Dean had fallen back a step, so that he and Jody were walking side by side while Claire, Alex, and Kaia were following right behind Pam, listening to her play tour guide.
“Alex grew up on a reservation,” Jody said abruptly. “She was taken from her parents when she was pretty young and bounced around between families. She never had a chance to go to a real school like this until she came here. Kaia too. She was orphaned and lived on the streets for a bit before we found her. I took them in to give them a chance at a better life, a more normal life. Where they don’t have to be afraid to be who they are.”
Dean didn’t know what to say to that. He just stopped dead in place and looked at her. Her eyes were serious and her expression hard.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t know about what happened between you and Sam. That’s your business,” Jody replied. “And I understand if you have some doubts about this place. But you have to think about Claire and what’s best for her and her future.”
“And you think that this place is what's best for her?” Dean snapped back. Dean didn’t like the implication that he would put himself before Claire. “You don’t even know her. You don’t even know what it’s like to be a mutant.”
If Jody was shocked that Dean pegged her as normal, she didn’t show it. “I may not know what it’s like to be a mutant, but I know what it’s like to live in hiding. My husband and son were mutants. And I spent my life desperately keeping them safe. Until I couldn’t.”
Realization hit Dean like a freight train. She didn’t need to say it directly, she had spelt it out clearly enough. My husband and son were mutants. Jody had lived through Dean’s worst nightmare. Dean had made sure Sam knew the danger he was in from the moment he presented. For every mutant caught and sent to the reservations or to Purgatory, there was another who was killed while “under investigation.” Media outlets published countless stories every year of “dangerous" mutants being subdued by police or federal officers. And by “subdued,” they usually meant shot multiple times in their own home or when trying to run away.
“I’m sorry, I … didn’t know,” he managed to squeeze out of the tightness in his chest.
“It’s been a long time now, but the pain, the loss… it never goes away,” Jody replied. Her arms wrapped around her torso, as if the gesture could protect her from her grief. “It’s part of the reason why I work so hard to protect this place, and the people here.”
Dean clenched his jaw, the muscles of his face tightening up. He understood what Jody was trying to say. But she didn’t know. None of them knew what they were asking from Dean. He was the antithesis of everything this place stood for. If they found out he could take away their powers, take away what made them “exceptional,” would they still want him to stay?
“Look,” Dean said, watching Claire and the others walk farther and farther down the hallway, leaving Dean and Jody behind. “You don’t have to worry about me. I will do what’s best for Claire. I always have.”
Jody smiled at him. It was warm and motherly and made Dean ache for something he never had.
“Dean, come on! What are you doing?” Claire’s voice carried through the hallway. Dean turned around to see that the others had made it to the end of the hall and were standing in front of some double wide doors. He quickly looked back at Jody, who nodded and said, “Shall we?”
***
It looked like this school was just full of surprises, because when Dean followed the others through the double doors and into the gym, his jaw nearly hit the floor. The gym was a large, open space with high ceilings and lightly painted walls. That much was as he expected. But the whole space was filled with obstacle courses, and climbing ropes, and a trampoline and holy shit was that a rock wall? Dean looked around and saw all sorts of things that he didn’t even have names for. The whole floor was covered with a soft, padded material and there was even a weightlifting area and exercise equipment in the corner.
“Woah, cool!” Claire said, looking around with amazement.
“I know right, this place is awesome,” Alex smiled. “This is where we have PE and where we get to train our talents.”
“Come on,” Kaia said to Claire. Dean almost laughed out loud at the panicked look in Claire’s eyes when Kaia casually grabbed her arm.
“Check it out!” Kaia and Alex led Claire away and started to show her different pieces of equipment.
“Surprised?” Pam asked him.
“Uh, yeah, I mean,” Dean wasn’t sure what to say. “I was just expecting a normal school gym, with basketball hoops and that weird parachute thing for some reason. Not American Ninja Warrior.” That comment made Pam and Jody both chuckle.
Pam continued, “Yeah, this place is a real shock to the newbies. This gym is our baby. We’ve spent years getting this place to where it is now. All so people can practice and learn how to use their talents to be the best version of themselves.”
“How exactly does running through a homemade version of Wipeout help them do that?”
“We work with the students to get them in shape physically, by building stamina and agility,” Pam said. “We also build strength mentally. We train good habits and discipline just as much as we train the body. It’s really helpful for people with all sorts of talents. For those with physical talents, it helps them learn to move and control their bodies and reactions more quickly and appropriately. For those with more mental talents, it really helps build that mind-body connection, improving concentration and making it easier to control all the power within.”
“You should come check it out when we have a training session sometime,”Jody added.
Dean hummed in response, taking it all in. He looked over at Claire, where she, Kaia, and Alex were looking at some sort of monkey bars thing nearby. She was talking animatedly with the other two and Dean was racking his brain trying to remember another time she looked so happy. Jody’s words bounced around in his mind. You have to think about Claire and what’s best for her and her future.
The obnoxiously loud sound of the gym doors being slammed open interrupted Dean’s thoughts. Gabriel, that short, blond guy from the other night, came striding in through the doors like he owned the place. The stick of a lollipop was jutting out of his mouth and Dean almost mistook it for a cigarette at first glance. His gaze didn’t settle on Gabriel for long because Sam came walking in right behind him. Dean caught Sam’s eye as he walked over to the group, but he quickly looked away. Because he was a coward who couldn’t even face his own brother.
“Hey guys,” Jody greeted them with a smile as they walked up. “What are you doing here?” So they weren’t invited. Good. Not like Dean was avoiding Sam, not really. Only that it had been barely twenty-four hours since the blowup and Dean was not ready to talk to Sam yet. He still had no idea what to tell him. Or more like, how much to tell him. Dean pointedly avoided looking at Sam. Instead, he watched Claire, Kaia, and Alex, who were making their way back over to them after seeing Sam and Gabriel enter.
“Heard you were having a little tour without us. Figured we’d pop in to say hi. See how you’re doin’,” Gabriel said. Something about his tone sounded smug and self-satisfied to Dean. He looked at Gabriel, and he was right. He was staring directly at Dean with a challenging expression.
“That cool with you, Deano?’” Great. Sam’s friend was a freakin’ nosy busybody. Dean crossed his arms and looked away.
Tension sat among the group for a moment. Dean was hyper aware of all the stares on him. They were waiting for him to do something. Whether that be to explode again or offer an olive branch, he didn’t know.
Sam eventually made a move to end the stalemate. He turned to Claire and asked, “How’s the school tour going?”
“This place is pretty cool,” Claire replied, nonchalantly. Dean almost rolled his eyes at how much of an aloof teenager act she was trying to put on. He could see right through her, she was ecstatic.
“You guys are just in time for the best part,” Pam said to Sam and Gabriel. She turned toward Claire, “Why don't you show us what you got, kiddo?
Claire’s mouth opened in shock. She looked back and forth between Dean and Pam. “You mean, show my powers? Are you sure?”
“Yep! That’s what this is all here for. You don't have to hide who you are anymore,” Jody added with an encouraging smile.
“Wait! Hang on just one damn second,” Dean interrupted. The thought of Claire just busting out her powers indoors like this immediately snapped him out of his sulk. He walked over to Claire and took her aside, practically dragging her away from the group. He spoke in an agitated whisper, “Claire, this is a bad idea.”
“But Dean,” Claire said, “This is what we’re here for! The whole point of this place is that we can be ourselves! I’m tired of not being able to control my powers. I could never practice them before. How am I supposed to get better at controlling them if I don’t use them?”
She had a good point, of course. But… Dean was still worried. He thought about their conversation last night and his conversation with Jody just now. Claire couldn’t go on like this, walking on edge and setting small fires by accident for the rest of her life. She needed to learn. He needed to do what was best for her.
“Okay,” Dean conceded, swallowing his pride.
“Yay!”
“But you should do it outside. Just in case.”
“Right,” she agreed. Claire turned back to the group and asked, “Is there, like, a field or something where I can do it instead?”
Pam smiled, “There sure is, kiddo.”
***
Dean’s foot tapped uncontrollably as they all stood on the blacktop behind the school. He couldn’t help but be on edge. Logically, he knew that it was safe. No one here would report them to the Feds. The whole point of this place was to be able to “live your truth,” or whatever. But that didn’t mean Dean was comfortable with that.
He had spent his whole life trying to keep Sammy safe. And a big part of that included drilling into Sam’s head that he couldn’t let anyone find out that he was a mutant. Dean wasn't ready to accept that, all of the sudden, he and Claire could just show off their abilities without a care in the world. And that was especially true for Dean’s abilities.
No matter how much they preach in this town, there was no way that Dean would ever be able to use his powers to “be himself.” Dean didn’t have a healthy self-image on the best of days, but his powers were the part of himself that he hated the most. There was absolutely no way in hell Dean would ever demonstrate them like this.
Claire stood in front of the group, a little ways away. Her hands were fiddling with those emo arm sleeve things she always wore. She glanced at Dean, but, try as he might, he couldn’t muster up a reassuring look on his face.
“Whenever you're ready, kiddo,” Pam said. “Don’t hold back.”
“Well, hold back a little,” Dean scoffed. He got some dirty looks from the group for that one. He understood that they were all drinking the hippy-dippy self-expression kool-aid. But they had no idea what they were in for. Dean added, “You should take off your sleeves. And make sure you face away from us.”
“Oh, right,” Claire said. She turned around so her back was toward them. She pulled her sleeves off and stuffed them in the pockets of her pants. Her shoulders rose up towards her ears as she took a deep breath.
She raised her hands above her head and her palms started to glow. The light became brighter and larger until a massive fireball erupted from her hands. The fireball shot towards the sky, and the flames danced around in midair. Dean could feel the heat of it from where he was standing.
The fireball continued to grow in size, until it was as bigger than anything he’d seen Claire conjure before. Shit. He knew she wouldn’t be able to contain herself. Dean wanted to run over there and stop her with every fiber of his being. But Dean knew that if he surprised her, she might lose control and end up burning him. They had both learned the hard way that while Claire may be fireproof, Dean certainly was not. He swallowed down the helpless feeling that clogged his throat and stayed in place.
Suddenly, the fireball burst and flames shot out in all directions. They scattered above Claire’s head and faded as they fell to the ground like fireworks.
“Whoa! That’s awesome,” Gabriel exclaimed. As the fire dissipated, Claire turned around. Her hands were cooling and steam was rising from her palms. Her expression was one of wonder and delight. But Dean still felt a deep pit of worry in his gut. Before Dean could rush over, the girls beat him to it.
“That was amazing!”
“So cool!”
Alex and Kaia surrounded Claire, hugging her and jumping up and down in that way that young girls did when they were excited. Claire was smiling harder than he had ever seen before. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and she looked so happy. The worry still sat heavily in his stomach, but seeing Claire like this… it started to ease.
“That was pretty impressive,” Jody said. She smiled at Dean before walking over with Gabriel to go talk to Claire.
“Good call on taking this outside, Dean,” Sam said. He clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean looked at him, trying to sense any sarcasm. But Sam looked sincere.
Pam turned to him with what looked to Dean like a predatory smile and asked, “What about you, handsome? Are you ready for a little show and tell?”
Dean stiffened. He looked away from Pam and down at the ground. Even though he tried to sound casual, his voice was shaky as he replied, “Nah, I’m good.”
Pam’s voice was gentle, a sharp contrast to her earlier expression, as she said, “Okay, but if you end up living here permanently, you’re gonna have to tell us about your talents. Or let me read you.”
“Read me? What the hell does that mean?”
“Pam is a pretty powerful psychic, Dean,” Sam said. “She can see all sorts of things, like visions and auras, which show her a person’s true nature. She uses her powers to protect us, by seeing if someone is dangerous or has bad intentions.”
“What, so you don’t trust me?” Dean bristled at the implication. “You think I’m here to hurt you?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with trust. We do it for everyone who comes here, even non-mutants,” Pam explained. “It’s part of the guidelines we use to keep everyone safe. Keeping this place a secret is essential to how we stay under the radar.”
Dean didn’t know what to say. He would never show his powers. Under no circumstances, whatsoever. There was also no freakin’ way he was gonna let Pam read him. She was powerful enough to sense that he was a mutant yesterday. Who knows what other skeletons she would dig out from Dean’s closet and toss into the light of day? And he wanted to avoid a repeat of what happened at the restaurant yesterday, at all costs.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Pam continued. “We understand that some people are more reluctant to show the side of themselves that they’ve had to keep hidden for so long. That’s why I offer to do readings, too. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”
“I’ll pass thanks,” Dean said. He crossed his arms over his chest and took an unconscious step back from the group. God, could they please stop talking about this?
“Dean–,” Sam pleaded. He was making that face, the one that always had Dean giving in to whatever he was asking for. Sam’s big, watery, puppy-dog eyes started at him, begging him. Dean made a face back at him, hoping to get him to just fucking drop it. Dean couldn’t give him this. Not yet. Not when they hadn’t even cleared the air yet from their fight yesterday.
Oblivious to the tension in the group, Gabriel walked back over to them with Claire, Jody, Alex and Kaia right behind him. He only caught the tail end of their conversation, but apparently just decided to dive headfirst into the murky waters. “Is Dean gonna show off for us too?”
Dean glared at him and sternly said “No.”
Gabriel’s face morphed into an exaggerated pout and he whined, “Aw, come on! We always haze the newbies. It’s tradition!” Gabriel grabbed Sam and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him down to his level until Sam was practically bent in half. “This guy right here,” Gabriel jerked his thumb at Sam, “blew us all away with his talents! If you're anything like him, you must be super powerful! That kinda thing runs in families. You gotta show us what you're packing!”
Before Dean could even open his mouth to respond, Claire decided to chime in with, “Well, if you wanna know what he’s got in his pants, you're gonna have to pay his hourly rate like everyone else.”
Dean was gobsmacked. His mouth flapped open and shut like a fish sucking on air. His heart thumped loudly in his chest and shame filled his core. He looked around the circle of faces, all of whom were just as shocked as he was. Gabriel, for once, was speechless. Pam, too. Kaia and Alex looked a mix of confused and uncomfortable. Jody gave a quiet little gasp of surprise and her hand flew up to her mouth. And Sam. God, Sam. Was he looking at Dean with fear? Disgust? Shame? Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at him long enough to figure it out. All of the fears that had been circling him like hungry sharks were now being brought out in front of everyone before he was ready. Anger rushed up within him, red hot and righteous. His fists clenched at his sides. He turned to Claire, who had gone white as a sheet and clamped her hands over her mouth.
“What the hell, Claire!” Dean shouted at her. “How could you just out me like that?”
“I..I…” she stuttered, “I wasn’t thinking. It was just a joke…”
“A joke?” Dean’s tone was a razor sharp edge. “My life is a fucking joke to you?”
“I’m sorry, Dean. We joke about it all the time, I just forgot…”
“You forgot?” His voice was dripping with poison.
“Wait a minute,” Jody stepped in front of Claire, blocking her from Dean’s wrath. “You were doing that with a minor in your house?” Shit, Dean forgot that she was a cop.
“Of course I didn’t do it with her around! I’m not that fucking irresponsible!”
“He didn’t!” Claire jumped to his defense. “He always left to go a hotel or their house or–”
“Claire!” Dean hissed at her. “Just. Stop. Talking.” Her mouth snapped shut and she looked down at her feet.
“Dean, how could you even do something like that in the first place?” Sam said. And Dean couldn’t, he just couldn’t. He knew it. Sam was disgusted. He thought Dean was disgusting. He felt like he was going to explode. He wanted to scream and shout and throw things. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Dean just stood there, shaking with rage. And because he couldn’t think of anything to say, he ended up saying something stupid.
“I didn’t hear you complaining about it while we were growing up!”
“Dean what-” Sam sputtered out. “Are you saying that you– Fuck! Why would you do that?! How could you–” Sam sounded so outraged and Dean just snapped. After everything he’d done to protect Sam, to provide for Sam, he had no right to talk to him like that.
“Dad was so drunk that he couldn't keep a job for more than a month! And even when he did have one, he just drank away his paycheck every week. Someone had to put a roof over our head and food on the table! Cause it sure as hell wasn’t dad!”
“But why, Dean?” Sam pleaded frantically. “I don't understand? Why would you keep that from me?”
“You were just a little kid, Sam!” Dean shouted, voice and temper rising.
“You were a kid too, Dean! God, first the mutant thing, now this? Is there anything else that you’re keeping from me?”
“Fuck you Sam! You have no fucking right to say that to me! After everything I fucking did for you, raising you, changing your goddamn diapers when I was five years old, you just up and ditched me the first chance you got! Did it ever occur to you that, maybe, just maybe, I wanted to escape our shitty life just as much as you did!?”
Sam stared at him, shocked into silence.
“This was a mistake,” Dean spat out, anger cooling into something colder, harder within him. “I never should have come here.”
“Dean–”
But it was too late. Once again, Dean was storming away, rage fueling his steps. He would rather run away and bury his problems in alcohol than delve deeper into the shitstorm that was his unfortunate life. God, he needed a drink. He stopped by the general store on main street that he’d seen earlier and purchased a large bottle of whiskey. He definitely made a terrible first impression with the cashier. But he didn’t care. Apparently that was the theme of the past two days. By the time he stomped his way back to the cabin, his anger had cooled down, replaced with a deep, deep shame. Dean went into his bedroom, opened the whiskey and took the first of many long swigs from the bottle.
Chapter 4
Notes:
Sorry not sorry for last chapter!
Anyway, thank you so much for reading. I love all the comments I'm getting, it makes me so happy to know people are liking this story. :)
Same TW as last chapter. There are discussions and mentions of Dean engaging in sex work as a minor. It is talked about generally and no explicit details are given.
Please enjoy!
Chapter Text
Dean slowly opened his eyes and squinted at the bright sunlight streaming through the window. His head was pounding, and his mouth was dry. He felt like he was gonna throw up. Dean slowly sat up in bed and hung his head in his hands as he remembered what happened yesterday. A hot wave of humiliation and remorse rolled over him like a steamroller.
Dean got out of bed after wallowing in self-loathing for a while. He stumbled to the main bathroom to heed the call of nature. He didn’t even attempt to pee standing up. He plunked down on the toilet with a tired ‘thump’. When he was done with his business, he slowly stood up and moved over to the sink to wash his hands and splash water on his face. Dean looked in the mirror and saw a haggard stranger staring back at him. His eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was sallow and pale. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He cupped his hands under the running faucet and splashed some cold water on his face, but it didn't help much. He still felt terrible.
A sound from the living room got his attention. The front door opened quietly and he could hear the sound of footsteps moving through the cabin and up the stairs. Dean groaned and dropped his head to hang low between his shoulders. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t remotely ready for this. He looked at his reflection and decided that there was nothing that could be done about his appearance, but he could at least change into some clean clothes. Somehow, in his drunken stupor, he managed to have the wherewithal to change out of his jeans, so he was just wearing his boxers. Dean quickly brushed his teeth and changed into some real clothes before opening the door to the bedroom. He stepped cautiously out into the living room.
“Hey,” Dean said as he spotted Claire. She had just come down the stairs from the loft. She had her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, and she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. A sharp feeling of guilt knocked the air out of his chest as he realized that Claire must have slept somewhere else last night. Shit, he hadn’t heard her come back. Hadn’t even thought about what she’d eaten for dinner or done for the hours after he had stormed off.
Claire jumped a mile at the sound of his voice. She wouldn’t look him in the eye, her gaze steady on the floor. “Hey,” she said meekly.
Dean sighed, long and heavy. He hated being The Adult. And his head was still pounding from the hangover. But Claire was just as stubborn as he was, so he knew he had to make the first move.
“Do you want to go first or do you want me to go first?” he asked, extending an olive branch. It felt like he was doing a lot of that lately.
“Um,” Claire mumbled. She was still looking at the floor and her hands were nervously wringing the strap of her duffel bag. “Look, Dean, I'm really, really sorry. I didn’t even think, I was just…” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I made a stupid joke and I hurt you. I didn’t think about the consequences, I was just thinking that it would be funny. I’m really sorry. I keep making dumb mistakes and hurting you and I…I…” Her calm demeanor started to break down as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Claire…”
“No, Dean, let me finish!” She said forcefully. Claire wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’ve done so much for me already and I just keep making trouble for you and making your life harder. I know you don’t like it here, and I get why. So I just came here to grab my stuff. Jody offered me a room at her place. She said I could move in there. So that's what I'm gonna do. You don’t have to take care of me anymore. You can leave and get back to your life.”
“Claire…” Dean couldn’t let her keep talking like that. Any lingering anger from yesterday that Dean had left deflated like a balloon. Even after getting arrested and outing him in front of everyone, the thought of leaving Claire never once crossed his mind. Dean got closer to her and put a soft hand on her shoulder. She was sniffing and blinking back tears.
“Claire, I meant what I said the other day. If you’re gonna stay here, then I’m gonna stay here with you. I don't want to get back to my life. Not if you're not there too. No matter what you do, or how much trouble you cause, I’m always gonna be here for you, because I love you.”
The floodgates opened and Claire began to sob into his chest. Her hands clutched and wrinkled the fabric of his shirt and Dean felt the wetness of her tears on his shoulder. Dean brought his arms around her, wrapping Claire in a tight hug.
“I’m so sorry Dean,” she gasped through her tears. “I didn’t mean to…I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so stupid. And you had to tell everyone that you…that you did all that stuff when you were a kid. I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.”
“Shhhhh,” Dean hushed her. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Dean rubbed his hands up and down her back, like he did whenever she had a nightmare. Like he did when Sam was little or when Lisa had to work late and Ben wouldn’t settle down to sleep. Dean had to steady his own breathing and he looked up at the ceiling to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.
When Claire had calmed down to the point where her heaving sobs had turned into small hiccups, Dean said quietly, “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that and I shouldn't have stormed off. Not once but twice. I left you alone with people you didn’t know when I shoulda been taking care of you. I'm really sorry Claire, I just… I just got so embarrassed in the moment. And then I got mad at Sam and…” He sighed. “I’m sorry for not being a very good adult. I’m trying but…”
His apology hung in the air, but Claire’s breathing had evened out a bit.
After a few moments, Claire pulled back out of the hug, but still let Dean keep his arms wrapped around her. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes and a little smile.
“It’s okay. I think you're pretty cool,” Claire admitted. The corner of her mouth turned up into a real smile.
Dean smiled too, warm and comforting, to let Claire know that they were okay. “Damn, what did it cost you to say that?” He joked.
“Shut up,” she said, pushing him away lightly. “You get a freebie 'cause I messed up.”
“Does that mean that the next time you do some dumb teenage shit, I'll get another one?”
Claire scoffed and wiped at her eyes, “Like you never did anything dumb when you were my age.”
At least I knew how to keep a secret, Dean thought to himself.
“Are you hungry? Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Dean asked. He looked at his watch. It was just about 11 am.
“Yeah, I had some at Jody’s place. She let me stay the night last night.”
Another surge of guilt, but Dean decided to mask it with a joke. Since they had just made up, he didn’t want to get back into it. “Awww, got to have a sleepover with your girlfriend?”
“Shut up,” Claire punched him in the arm. “It’s not like that.”
“Well, it looked like that to me yesterday when you were flirting with her.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst!”
“Hahaha, you love me!” Dean smiled and Claire rolled her eyes. She stomped upstairs to put her bag back and Dean knew they would be okay. At least there was one relationship in his life that he hadn't blown up into a million pieces.
***
After the incident at the school, Dean successfully managed to avoid everyone in town by staying sequestered in the cabin like a hermit. But as day four of his social seclusion dawned, Dean was unfortunately forced to go back to the grocery store for more supplies. He went early in the morning in order to avoid as many people as possible. It worked well enough. Dean was able to grab everything he needed for the upcoming week as well as supplies to make a nice brunch for himself and Claire this morning. He dodged all unnecessary human interaction like a professional boxer, managing to sneak in and out of the store with only having to talk to the cashier. Even that conversation consisted only of “Would you like a bag?” and “No, thank you.”
Dean pulled up into his parking space in front of the little cabin that was now technically his home. There were certainly worse places he could be right now, like on the run from the feds with Claire. It had stung more than he would’ve thought to pack up only their most essential items and leave behind the apartment and the life they had built together. Dean had even ditched their phones and gotten new burner cells for him and Claire. Now, Dean had to start his life all over again. Again.
After everything with Lisa and Ben went down, Dean had quit his proper big boy job as a mechanic, hopped in the Impala with just a duffel bag and went back to the world’s oldest profession. That had been a few years ago and just a few months before he met Claire.
As he unloaded the groceries from the back seat of the car, he noticed someone crouched over in the bushes across the parking lot. Their hands were rummaging around in the dirt and some plants in little pots were scattered around them. Dean realized that it was that guy from the other day, Castiel, when he saw a flash of blue skin from underneath the brim of his hat. He was pretty far away, and Dean was trying to avoid any and all human contact today, so he headed inside without a second thought.
It took no time at all to put everything away and get started on their brunch. Dean had decided he was in the mood for pancakes. With nothing much else to do for the past few days, Dean had been cooking. A lot. Today was no exception. The delicious, savory smell of bacon accompanied the sweetness of the fresh fruit he sliced up to put on top. Soon, the whole cabin was smelling like the inside of an IHOP, which was ultimately what brought Claire down from her lair.
“You’re making pancakes?,” Claire asked as she slid next to Dean, peaking over his shoulder at the bacon sizzling in the pan.
“Yep,” Dean said, smiling as he flipped one of the fully golden pancakes and added it to the growing stack next to him on the counter. “How many you want?”
“Three,” she replied, grabbing some glasses and silverware for them from the cupboards. “And I want strawberries on top.”
“Coming right up,” Dean said. He piled her plate with pancakes and bacon, before adding the sliced strawberries and syrup on top. He quickly made his own plate, three pancakes drowned in butter and syrup with plenty of bacon.
They ate breakfast together at the kitchen table. Since making up the other day, they had fallen back into their usual routine. Although, Claire didn’t normally keep her eyes glued to her phone while eating at the table. Her hands kept going back and forth between her fork and her phone, as she received and replied to text after text.
Claire had exchanged numbers with Kaia and Alex when she stayed over, and they had been messaging constantly ever since. Claire had managed to make friends with a girl named Patience too, who Dean had not met yet due to his self-imposed isolation. Dean resisted the urge to pry into her conversations. He was glad that she had made some friends, she really needed to start hanging out with people her own age instead of just Dean. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to worry about her.
“Are you going to go hang out with your new besties again today?” Dean teased. It wasn’t a particularly subtle way of making sure he knew what Claire was going to be up to while she was out today. Just because Dean was too chickenshit to go out and risk the possibility of seeing Sam or god knows who else didn’t mean he was gonna force Claire to stay in with him.
Claire rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I’m gonna go hang with Alex, Kaia, and Patience. And before you even ask, we're gonna be at Jody’s house.”
Dean nodded. Claire had gone over there the past couple of days. She had even given him Jody’s number and texted him every few hours to check in. Looks like she planned to be on her best behavior for a while to try to make it up to him. Dean wasn’t complaining.
“Did you talk to Jody about when you’re gonna start school?”
“Yeah,” Claire nodded. “She said I can start some make-up classes next week on Monday and…” Claire paused. Dean looked up from his food to see Claire biting her bottom lip and fiddling her phone in her hands. “She said I can also start the training course too.”
Dean knew this was coming. He was ready. They had talked about it a lot since touring the school. It was the right thing to do. For Claire.
“Ok, well, I want to be there for that part, so just let me know what time on Monday.”
“But Dean–”
“No buts,” Dean cut her off. He pointed a fork dripping with syrup at her. “This isn’t me trying to embarrass you in front of your new friends. This is for your safety. It’s non-negotiable.”
Claire made a face, and for a second, Dean thought she was gonna protest. But she must still be trying to get back into his good graces, because she just muttered, “Alright.”
Dean sighed, “Look, I promise, I’ll stay out of the way and just watch. And if everything goes well for a while, you can go alone. It’s just until we get a bit more settled in, okay?”
She nodded and said “Yeah, okay,” in a way that only a truly annoyed teenager could pull off.
They finished up their breakfast, and Claire bounded off to go hang with her friends, leaving Dean alone in the tiny log cabin all by himself. He had spent the last few days of solitude trying to get his shit together. He had tidied up the cabin, put away his clothes and belongings, organized the kitchen and the meager DVD collection. Today, he decided to do some work on Baby. She was due for a little maintenance and he hadn’t checked her oil in a while.
Dean grabbed the keys and headed outside. It was summer and the sun was shining brightly. Dean knew he was going to be hot working out here in the sun all day without any shade. Of course, Dean could pull into any one of the numerous parking spots that were shaded by towering pines. But he had purposefully chosen a spot that wasn’t under any trees. He absolutely wouldn't risk getting sap or bird shit stuck to his Baby. Not when he planned on washing her. He walked up to Baby and gave her a little pat on the hood. She was gleaming in the sunlight and still as beautiful as the day his dad had driven her off the lot. Dean smiled, and got to work.
He popped the trunk and took out all of the supplies he kept stocked at all times, necessities like jumper cables and a car jack. He opened the hood of the car and began to inspect the engine. Dean checked the oil level and the air filter, and he made sure that all of the belts were tight. He also checked the spark plugs and the distributor cap.
After tinkering with the engine for a while, Dean moved on to giving her a wash. He grabbed a garden hose that was attached to the side of the cabin and used it to fill up a bucket he found under the kitchen sink. Once the bucket was full of soapy water, Dean began to wash the Impala with all the reverence of an artist polishing a masterpiece. He took his time, making sure to get every nook and cranny.
Dean was in the middle of drying Baby with a towel when he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over to see Castiel working on a row of flowers much closer than when Dean had first come out here. It looked like Castiel was making his way around the U of cabins and was gradually inching closer and closer to where Dean was working on the Impala.
Dean stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow. He was pretty hot from working in the sun. He could only imagine how Castiel was feeling, considering he’d been out here a lot longer than Dean. But, then again, he must have anticipated the heat, considering he was pretty covered up. For the most part, it was pretty hard to tell who Castiel was let alone that he looked bluer than the blueberries that Dean had with his pancakes this morning. He was wearing a long-sleeve shirt, tan work pants and a wide brimmed hat that covered up a lot of his face. Speaking of which…Dean didn’t see his tail anywhere.
Castiel was now close enough that Dean would definitely have been able to tell if there was a tail sticking out of his ass (not that Dean was purposefully looking at his ass). Dean guessed he must have been hiding it in his pants somehow. But why? Wasn’t the whole point of this place was that it was a “judgment free zone” or whatever? Why would he hide his tail if they were supposed to be safe here?
Castiel worked away, completely oblivious to Dean’s staring. Dean was content to go back to his own work when he noticed that some of Castiel’s little pots had rolled away from him. The plastic pots were rolling further and further away, while Castiel remained focused on the flowers in front of him.
“Hey, Castiel,” Dean called out to catch his attention.
Castiel didn’t hear him, too absorbed in what he was doing.
Dean decided to not be a complete asshole and go grab them for him. He wiped his hands on a towel and put the sponge back in the bucket. He walked the couple of steps over to where the pots had settled near a drain in the parking lot and picked them up.
“Hey, Castiel,” Dean called out again as he walked back over toward him. Dean must not have been as loud and obvious as he thought because Castiel jumped a mile when Dean got close to him. His whole body flinched and he looked up at Dean like a startled animal.
“Sorry! Sorry! Didn't mean to startle you,” Dean said quickly. This was eerily familiar. “Shit, I totally keep sneaking up on you. Sorry about that. I was just working on my car over there,” Dean gestured over to Baby, “and saw that your stuff rolled away.”
Castiel just stared at him, like he was some sort of alien that had descended to earth and come out of a flying saucer to make first contact with humanity. Dean knelt down next to Castiel and offered up the pots in some desperate and awkward need to prove that he wasn’t lying.
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said after a long moment. He reached out a hand to accept the pots from Dean as he passed them over.
“What are you doing here by the way?” Dean asked, trying to defuse the unintentional tension he caused.
“I am gardening.”
“I can see that,” Dean smiled. Castiel was so deadpan in his expressions sometimes, that it made Dean feel like he was the straight man in some comedy double act. Of course, that would make Dean the funny man. “I guess I meant, how come you're taking care of the plants here? Do you own this place or something?”
Castiel shook his head, “No, this property is owned by the town. I just maintain the landscaping and plants.”
“That's pretty cool,” Dean said, admiring the rows of shrubs and flowers. He turned a bright smile at Castiel. “They look really nice. You're doing a great job.”
“Thank you,” a small bloom of color rose to Castiel’s cheeks. “I do enjoy my job, and Tasha is a considerate boss.”
“You work for Tasha?” Dean asked.
“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “I work at her store part time and then the town pays me to maintain this place and other public properties.”
“That's neat,” Dean replied. “I guess I just thought that she would’ve done all that herself, considering her powers and all.”
Castiel tilted his head in what was quickly becoming an adorable habit to Dean. “You met Tasha?”
“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. “We stopped in the store the other day. Saw her doing some plant magic.” Dean wiggled his fingers in a mimicry of how Tasha had made that plant bloom.
“It's not magic, Dean,” Castiel deadpanned, which just made Dean laugh.
“I know, I was just joking.” Dean smiled.
They lapsed into a small silence, but unlike last time they spoke, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Well, sure, Dean’s knees were hurting a bit from kneeling down in the dirt. But he was no stranger to pushing through that sensation.
For some reason, Dean decided to abandon all logic and ask Castiel, “Have you had lunch yet?”
Castiel stared at him and Dean didn’t blame him. Why the hell had he said that? He barely knew the guy. Just ‘cause Castiel had helped them escape from that police station and gave Dean directions one time didn’t mean they weren’t complete strangers. And sure, yeah, Castiel was hot and Dean hadn’t interacted with anyone besides Claire in days, but that didn’t mean he should just start inviting randos over. Really, it’s not like he was working right now.
Dean looked down at the ground and desperately tried to think of what to say next. “I, uh, sorry,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, “I was just thinking, you’ve been out here all day and it's hot out and I figured maybe you’d want to take a break. And I’ve got tons of food and drinks and stuff, so I figured I’d offer you some. Feel free to say no. I’m not trying to bother you or anything…” Smooth, Dean. Real smooth.
“I…” Castiel looked at him like Dean was about to jump up and say ‘gotcha!’ at any moment. Dean tried to put on an inviting expression. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
“I have not eaten yet,” Castiel conceded.
“Great!” Dean couldn’t hide the relief from his voice. “Come on over.” Dean stood up and led them past the Impala and over to cabin number four. Although the invitation was spur of the moment, he was actually looking forward to talking to Castiel. So far, Castiel had been the only one in this cult-like town who didn’t try to shove the Eden Falls Manifesto down his throat.
A short while later, they were sitting across from each other at the little wooden table, tucking into some turkey club sandwiches that Dean had whipped up. Dean had used the extra bacon from this morning along with ingredients he had picked up from the store earlier.
“This is really good, Dean,” Castiel complimented. “Thank you for letting me have some.”
“Sure, no problem,” Dean said. “It’s just a sandwich. It’s nothing special, honestly.”
“I disagree, it is quite good,” Castiel said after taking a sip from the lemonade Dean had insisted he try, “Do you enjoy cooking?”
Dean blushed a little at the compliment. “Yeah I like it. You can kinda just focus on one thing. And then when you’re done, you get somethin’ good for all your efforts, ya know?”
“I understand,” Castiel nodded. “I feel the same way about gardening. Except sometimes you have to wait a while to see your efforts come to life.”
“Hmmm,” Dean considered the comparison. “Yeah, nah. I’m not that patient. I don’t know if I could wait months and months only to find out that I did it all wrong and the plant, I don't know, grew upside down or whatever.”
Castiel exhaled a soft laugh, “Well, I’ve never had that happen. But I have been having a hard time keeping animals from eating my plants lately.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Castiel affirmed. “I believe that there is a family of rabbits that keep invading my vegetable patch and eating all of my spinach and kale.”
“A family of rabbits, huh?” Dean smirked. “I don’t know, it could be a were-rabbit problem.”
Castiel just stared at him with a blank expression.
“Sorry, uh, it’s from a movie,” Dean flushed a bit in embarrassment. “Wallace and Gromit.”
“Oh,” Castiel looked down at his food and wrung his hands together. “Sorry, I haven’t seen very many films.” Shit. Dean had forgotten that Castiel was in Purgatory. Dean had no idea what their media policy was, but he doubted a prison like that was doing weekly showings of stop-motion British children’s films.
“Uh, that’s okay,” He quickly reassured Castiel. “I mean, I’m not surprised you don’t know it. It’s not like a famous movie or anything. It's a kids movie.”
“What is it about?”
“It’s kind of a parody of classic monster movies,” Dean explained. “It’s about these two exterminators, Wallace and Gromit. Gromit is a dog, by the way. And they try to stop all these rabbits from eating everybody’s vegetables. But it turns out there is a were-rabbit, like a werewolf but a rabbit, that is destroying everything, and they have to fight it.” Dean felt stupid explaining the plot out loud. It was pretty dumb. But, hey, it was one of Ben’s favorite movies, so they had watched it, like, all the time.
“Ah, yes I see,” Castiel nodded wisely, as if he had been told some extremely important information. “That is an applicable comparison to my current situation. Although I haven’t noticed if the break-ins correlate with the lunar cycle or not.”
Dean stared at him with his mouth slightly open. Was he...being serious? But then Castiel broke out into a smirk and started to laugh. It was a wonderful, infectious sound that made Dean burst out into a full blown cackle. Damn, Castiel could be hilarious when he wanted to be.
After a few moments of Dean’s uproarious laughter, he managed to calm down enough to ask, “So how are the rabbits getting in?”
“There is an enclosure around my vegetable patch that they keep breaking into. I have tried many times to mend or adjust the fencing, however, they keep getting through.”
“Well, if you’d like, I’m pretty handy, I used to build stuff all the time with my dad, and I’ve worked as a mechanic before so… maybe I could take a look?” Dean offered. Dean had helped his Dad with the Impala and other odd jobs throughout childhood. And then, after Sam left, Dean had tried to find some honest work that didn’t include trips to the free clinic. That’s how he ended up at the garage and how he met Lisa.
“Oh,” Castiel blinked. “That would be really nice. Thank you.”
“Sure, no problem,” Dean smiled.
“Are you no longer working as a mechanic?” Castiel asked.
Shit, Dean walked straight into that one. It was an obvious follow up question, and Dean didn’t fault Castiel for asking. “No, I uh… actually…” What should he say? Should he…
Dean sighed, “Well, I guess I might as well tell you. The whole town probably knows about it anyway. And it’s not like I was really hiding it. Well, I mean I was trying to figure out a way to tell Sam but…” Dean looked at Castiel, who was waiting patiently for him to continue with a curious expression.
Dean took a deep breath. “The truth is I do sex work to make a living,” he spit out as straight-forward as possible. He braced himself for Castiel’s reaction. Whatever that may be.
Except Castiel didn’t react. He sat there motionless as a statue, eyes fixed on Dean.
Embarrassment flared up, making Dean’s cheeks feel hot. Dammit, he totally blew it. Fuck. Time to backtrack.
“Sorry,” he choked out. “I’m probably making you uncomfortable.” He tore his eyes away from Castiel’s and rose up from his seat, his chair clattering against the floor.
“Here,” Dean said, reaching across the table to gather his and Castiel’s plates. “Let me get that for you.” Once Dean’s arms were loaded up, he retreated to the kitchen to put some space between them, under the guise of washing the dishes.
“Dean.”
“You can totally get back to gardening. Sorry for bothering you,” Dean mumbled, back toward Castiel as he began to frantically squeeze soap onto the sponge.
“Dean.”
Dean pressed on, scrubbing at the dirty plates with more force than necessary, “And like I could still fix your fence thing, if you want. But if not, that's fine, like, you can get someone else to. I’m sure there are plenty of people who…”
“DEAN,” Castiel’s insistent voice was a lot closer than before, causing him to spin around in shock. Castiel had gotten up from the table and was standing way too close to Dean in the tiny kitchen.
A moment of silence hung between them with the only sound being the water streaming from the tap. Dean was frozen in place under Castiel’s stare. Was he going to admonish him? Pity him? Proposition him? Dean couldn’t tell what he was thinking from under that stone-faced expression.
“I apologize,” Castiel said. Well, that was absolutely the last thing Dean had expected him to say.
“What?”
“I am sorry,” Castiel repeated.
“For what?” Dean couldn’t fathom why Castiel would be the one apologizing in this scenario.
“I made you uncomfortable,” Castiel elaborated.
“Uh,” Dean’s brain was short circuiting. “Shouldn't that be the other way around?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, aren’t you the one who’s uncomfortable?”
“No, I am fine. I am not uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” was all that Dean could squeak out.
“However, I feel that I have upset you in some way. But I am not sure how. You are avoiding my gaze and your body language suggests that you are anxious.”
“Uh, what?” Dean was so not following. “You weren’t grossed out that I’m a sex worker?”
“I am not disgusted by the fact that you engaged in prostitution as your occupation. I was merely shocked, as I have never encountered someone of that profession before.” Castiel’s eyes went wide for a moment as he realized something. “Ah, I see. It was my reaction that caused you discomfort. I apologize.”
“Uh…” Dean had no idea what was going on right now. Was he getting this right? Castiel said he wasn’t disgusted. That was good, right? Maybe…Maybe Dean didn’t totally blow it after all.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I guess it is pretty surprising, yeah…” Dean reached a hand around to shut the faucet. He grabbed a dish towel to dry his hands but also as something to hold on to to anchor him back to reality.
Castiel nodded along, as if what Dean had said actually made sense. “May I ask, what did you mean when you said that the whole town knows about it?”
“Uh, well…” Dean murmured. “The thing is, the other day when Claire and I were touring the school, it sorta…came up. And there were a lot of people there, so I figured that it’s probably going to be spread around. Can’t imagine that will stay a secret for long. Especially because of that guy, Gabriel. I mean what an ass. No offense if he’s your friend, but that guy is a total blabbermouth. I'm surprised he didn't run around screaming it from the rooftops right after it happened.”
“To my knowledge, no such proclamations have been made, from the rooftops or otherwise.”
Dean breathed a small laugh. He appreciated Castiel trying to dissolve the tension. “Well, that’s good. But it’s only a matter of time. I don't really care what everyone else thinks, ‘cause they're strangers, but Sam was there too…”
Dean looked back up at Castiel, who was waiting patiently for him to continue. Dean took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs until they were tight before letting it out in a slow drawn out exhale.
“Sam didn’t know about what I do. He got really upset and he looked, so…so disgusted. I just…I couldn’t take it. I ran away, again!” Dean sagged against the counter. He had done his damndest to avoid thinking about this whole fucking quagmire over the past few days. But now it just started to spill out.
"And I even…” Should he tell Castiel about the stuff he’d done as a kid? Nah, that was too much information. “I told Sam more than I wanted to. Well, yelled at him, really. I was angry and just shouting stuff I didn’t mean, and…ugh now it’s all a total mess. I mean, it was a mess before, but now it’s way worse. I don't know what I’m gonna do. Claire wants to stay here but I can't go walking around on eggshells and avoiding Sam all the time. But I have no idea how to talk to him about any of this stuff.”
Castiel had stayed silent throughout Dean’s word vomit, but he hummed a bit as he considered Dean’s predicament.
“Well, I agree with you, in that, if you plan to stay here, you will have to discuss these things with Sam and try to come to an understanding.”
Dean sighed, “Yeah, I know…” Logically, he did know that. But logic and emotions were two separate and often competing things. “But I’m still worried. Like, what if he doesn’t want me around anymore after knowing what I’ve done?” Dean let slip one of his biggest fears. He didn’t just mean the sex work. Would Sam still want him here if he knew that Dean could take away a mutant’s powers? After he found out that Dean had taken away mutant’s powers?
“Although I can’t say for sure, I don’t believe that Sam would think that of you,” Castiel reassured him. “He is a very kind person. I’m sure if you talk properly. He will understand.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Castiel said with a conviction that made Dean feel a bit more at ease. “Sam is a friend and he has been very kind to me. I have had…similar fears in the past and Sam was accepting.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, similar to how you fear that Sam will be disgusted by your job as a prostitute–”
“Sex worker,” Dean cut him off.
“Sex worker, apologies,” Catsiel corrected himself. “I, too, fear that people will be disgusted or frightened by my appearance.”
“Well, I don’t think that. I never did,” Dean blushed a bit. He was pretty sure he had been kind of obvious in his flirtations with Castiel earlier. But Dean wanted to reassure Castiel that he was definitely not put off by his appearance. Quite the opposite in fact. “Like, yeah when I first saw you in that parking lot I was a little surprised. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot weirder shit in my line of work than just a blue guy with a tail.”
“In your line of work?”
“I mean, yeah,” Dean continued. “There are lots of mutants like you who can’t go out and use Tinder or whatever to get laid the old fashioned way. So that’s where I come in.”
“Oh,” Castiel murmured as a lovely blush spread across his face, turning his cheeks a deep purple color. He stared at Dean with wide eyes and an expression that Dean was very familiar with.
Dean smirked, his earlier good mood returning in full force. He couldn’t help but want to tease Castiel. How could he not with a reaction like that?
“Ya know, not for nothing Castiel, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got paid.”
Castiel flinched and attempted to school his expression. He wasn’t very successful, as Dean could see his blush spread from his face across his ears and down his neck. He brought his hands up in front of him to wave off Dean’s accusation.
“N-no!” he stammered a bit too loudly to be natural. Dean tried not to smile too hard at his obvious embarrassment at being caught out. “No! It’s not that. I just… you weren't disgusted?”
“Huh?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Why would I be disgusted?”
Castiel began to shrink in on himself a bit, his hands clenching and wrapping protectively in front of his chest. He continued, shyly, “It didn’t bother you to have…intercourse with someone that looked so…inhuman?”
“Nope!” Dean popped the ‘p’ sound at the end. He smiled wide to reassure Castiel. As much as Dean found his embarrassment cute, he didn’t want to purposefully harass the guy. Dean didn’t need to be a psychologist or whatever to understand why Castiel was self-conscious about his appearance, even in a town full of other mutants. Dean hadn’t met that many people in Eden Falls yet, but Castiel was the only person he’d seen here so far that looked like a mutant.
“One time,” Dean recalled, “I got hired by this reptile chick. She was totally covered in scales, and I mean covered.” He gave Castiel an eyebrow waggle and a knowing look. “The only thing that really bothered me was that she wanted me to try on a ton of lingerie. I swear, she made me try on like a hundred thongs. I was there for hours!”
Castiel’s eyes went wide as saucers. His eyes traveled up and down the length of Dean’s body, and it was not hard to tell what he was imagining by the look on his face.
Dean couldn’t help but burst out into a laugh. He leaned against the counter as rolls of laughter overtook him. He looked at Castiel and saw the beginnings of a smile tug at his lips before he, too, succumbed to raucous laughter. Their combined laughter echoed through the small cabin, and Dean could feel his cheeks and stomach starting to hurt.
When they had finally calmed down, Dean looked at Castiel and said, “Thanks for helping me out.”
Castiel’s cheeks were still a bit flushed as he replied, “With what?”
“You know, the whole Sam thing,” Dean answered. “Thanks for listening, and, uh, sorry for unloading on you.”
“It’s alright Dean, I do not mind. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers than to people you know.”
“Don’t I know it,” Dean agreed. “Half my job is playing therapist. Can’t even count all the times I just sat and held someone while they cried and vented about their life. Didn’t even fuck ‘em.”
Dean dissolved into another fit of giggles at Castiel’s shocked reaction. Man, when was the last time Dean had laughed this much? When was the last time Dean had even hung out with someone? Maybe it wasn’t just Claire that needed to make some friends.
“And, hey,” Dean continued. “We're not strangers anymore, right? I cooked you food so that means we're friends now.”
Castiel’s smile grew wider, “Is that so?”
“Yep!” Dean proclaimed. “Them's the rules, Castiel.”
“Well, then, as my friend you can call me Cas,” Castiel looked at him in a way that made Dean’s heart skip a few beats. Dean only realized later that that had never happened to him before.
***
Sam had always tried very hard to avoid becoming like his father. He followed through on his promises and controlled his temper. But most importantly, he was very, very careful with how much he drank. He had seen firsthand how alcohol could turn a loving father into an abusive, drunk shell of his former self.
In high school, he spent all his time studying in order to get out and make something of himself. In college, it was the same. Even when he was invited to parties, Sam almost always declined in order to study. Sam watched many of his classmates waste the thousands of dollars they were paying in tuition to go drink and smoke weed instead. He wasn’t like them, who grew up with silver spoons and good support networks to fall back on if they dropped out due to excessive partying. Sam had always had to buckle down and put in the work.
Despite all that, Sam had drunk more in the last four days than he ever had in his entire life. The bottles had begun to pile up around his house. He could feel Eileen grow more and more concerned as the days went on. Sam knew this wasn’t healthy but he just couldn’t stop the vortex of guilt, regret, anger and despair that was whirling around inside him.
He just couldn’t stop thinking. He replayed moments from his childhood over and over trying to uncover how he had missed the fact that, not only was Dean also a mutant, but he had…sold himself in order to provide for them. It was like rewatching a movie, only this time Sam knew the plot twist. Every memory now had a new light and a new meaning that was unknown to him before.
Dad was so drunk that he couldn't keep a job for more than a month! And even when he did have one, he just drank away his paycheck every week. Someone had to put a roof over our head and food on the table! Cause it sure as hell wasn’t dad!
Sam remembered when they had finally stopped hopping from motel to motel and moved into an apartment. Had that been Dean’s doing? Was he the one who had provided enough extra income that they could settle down in one place? Sam had been in 6th grade, so about twelve. That meant that Dean would’ve been around sixteen. The thought of Dean, so young, doing…God, Sam didn’t even want to imagine the kinds of things Dean must have done. But without any answers, his mind kept going around and around in circles, conjuring up only the most horrible scenarios.
Sam agonized for days, spiraling deeper and deeper. But he couldn’t gather the courage to go out and go talk to Dean. To get answers to the myriad of questions constantly ricocheting around his brain.
It was well into the afternoon and Sam hadn’t even gotten out of bed. He laid curled up under the covers when the bright light of the curtains being drawn cast a sudden glow of light through the blanket. He moaned.
He felt Eileen’s hand gently touch his shoulder through the duvet before slowly dragging it away. Sam resisted the childish impulse to pull the covers back over his head.
Eileen’s hand settled on his arm. With her touch, Eileen’s emotions flowed into him like a gentle wave. He could feel her concern, her worry, her desire to comfort him and make all his pain go away. But also, he could feel that she wasn’t going to let him wallow any longer. She was getting tired of his pity party and Sam didn’t blame her.
Sam, why don’t you take a shower and eat something? You haven't had much today. I’ll make you some lunch.
Sam groaned. He didn’t want to move. It was too much energy. He hadn’t had anything to drink today, but was still feeling a bit hungover from last night.
Even if Eileen couldn’t hear his grumbling, she could still feel it. Through their connection and also through vibrations. You have to get up and take care of yourself. Come on, you'll feel better after you have a shower. She grabbed his arm and gently pulled him up into a seated position.
Sam let himself be pulled upright but he didn’t get up from the bed. He just sat there staring at his lap. Eileen sat down in front of him and grabbed his hands. She gave them a light squeeze and Sam squeezed them back.
Sam, I know how you’re feeling right now. Eileen was probably the only person who could say that and it would be true. She could feel everything that Sam was going through. Of course, Sam had told her about the fight with Dean and what he had found out about his brother. She could feel what this whole thing was doing to Sam.
I understand that this is really difficult and I don’t expect you to be okay, but you have to take care of yourself. Spending all day in bed, drinking like that…it’s not gonna help.
I’m sorry. Guilt flooded through him. Eileen had spent the last few days dealing with Sam’s mental breakdown. He felt bad for what he had been putting her through.
You don’t need to apologize. I love you, and I’m here for you. I’m not upset, I’m worried about you. I just want to help. And right now the best way for me to help you is to feed you and force you to take a shower.
Thanks, Sam squeezed her hand tight. I love you too. He could feel all her love and sincerity and it eased the aching hurt inside him enough that his lips managed to tilt upward in a small smile for her.
After his shower, Sam sat down with Eileen for a late lunch. She had prepared some soup and sandwiches and Sam was so grateful. Sam was the one who usually cooked between the two of them, so he appreciated the gesture. She put on a movie and they sat together on the couch and ate as they watched. They often ate sitting next to each other like this. It was easy to maintain their connection while also keeping their hands free for eating.
They watched some mindless TV for a while, but Sam wasn’t really focused on it. His thoughts didn’t stray away from Dean for very long.
Did it ever occur to you that, maybe, just maybe, I wanted to escape our shitty life just as much as you did!?
No. It had never occurred to him. And it should have. It should have. At the time, Sam was so convinced that higher education was his only chance for a future that he hadn’t considered what going away to college would mean for Dean. Sam had been so desperate for a fresh start, for a chance to be himself that he hadn’t realized he unintentionally abandoned Dean to the fate he was trying to avoid.
Even though they were connected through the brush of their arms, Eileen reached over and grabbed Sam’s hand.
Have you thought about what you’re going to do? Eileen could probably sense the dark turn his thoughts were taking and spoke up to try to distract him. Sam appreciated it.
Well, I mean…I have to talk to him I guess. If he’s still in town that is. He might be halfway across the country by now. Sam wouldn’t be surprised if Dean had packed up and left town right after their fight.
I saw Claire in town yesterday so Dean is probably still here too.
Or it could mean that she stayed behind while Dean split.
Sam…
Sorry, Sam winced internally at his own negativity. I know what I have to do. I have to talk to Dean. I want to talk to Dean, I just…I don’t know what to say. Like, how am I supposed to talk to him about all this? Finding out Dean is a mutant too was bad enough but this…
Sam took a deep breath. He let go of her hand in order to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her shoulder. Eileen gently stroked his back as she waited patiently for him to collect himself.
I don't want to start screaming at each other again or ruin things even more.
What do you want though? You keep thinking only of worst-case scenarios. When you talk to Dean, what do you hope will happen? What would be the best-case?
I want us to be a family again. Sam decided without hesitation. It’s what he wanted from the moment he saw Dean in the police station. I want you two to get to know each other and for us to hang out and have barbecues and do all the normal stuff that families do together.
I know you haven’t seen each other in so long and I know that this is a huge thing between you two. But Sam, Dean wouldn’t have come here if he had no intention of reconnecting with you. When we met the other day, I could tell how much he cared about you.
Really?
I…may have brushed up against him a few times to see how he was feeling about you and this place.
Sam laughed. Of course you did.
What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t spy your brother to try to protect your feelings?
What… What was he feeling?
He was very guarded. Just cautious about this place in general. But Sam, I could tell just from one little touch how much he missed you and how happy he was to see you again.
The small glimmer of hope in Sam’s chest that had been slowly getting dimmer and dimmer over the past few days started to reignite. If Dean was just as happy to see him as Sam was, then maybe they could get past this? Maybe, Sam’s desire to be a family again wasn’t as out of the realm of possibility as he had thought?
I know you have a lot more thinking to do, but you don’t have to figure it all out right now. Eileen sensed his mood shift, so she suggested, I was thinking, you’ve been cooped up inside for the past few days, why don’t you go for a run or a walk to clear your head?
Yeah, maybe I’ll go for a walk into town in a little bit, Sam agreed. But right now, can we just stay like this for a bit longer? He squeezed her tight in his arms.
Of course. Let’s just stay here for a while.
A genuine smile found its way to Sam’s lips. He would be forever grateful that Eileen, the most wonderful human being, came into his life.
***
Just a few minutes into his walk, Sam was feeling a bit better. The fresh air and sunshine was really helping his mood. Sam always ran a couple miles in the mornings, which he had skipped the past few days. He hadn't realized how much shutting himself inside for so long had affected him. Talking it all through with Eileen earlier had also helped a lot. However, he still had no idea how he was going to approach Dean, let alone what he planned to say to him.
Which is why, when Sam saw Dean walking out of the video store, bag of DVDs in hand, he was entirely unprepared for the encounter. Dean walked across the sidewalk and up to the Impala, parked right out front. Sam didn’t know how he could have missed it as he walked up. Dean was about to get in when he looked up and saw Sam standing motionless just a few feet away.
They both stood frozen, like two cowboys facing off in an old western-style shootout. They both were waiting for the other to make the first move, to inch their finger toward their holstered gun and pull the trigger.
It was Dean who shot first.
“Hey Sammy,” he sighed.
Sam bit back the instinctual urge to snap back with “it’s Sam”, figuring it would be unhelpful at the moment. He shuffled awkwardly, shifting his weight between his feet. For all his talk earlier about how he would talk to Dean, Sam didn’t think he would see him again this soon. Sam thought he would have at least another day or two ahead of him to emotionally prepare for this conversation. Now that he was here, standing next to Dean, Sam had no idea what to say. All of his apologies and questions died on his tongue and all that was left was silence.
Just as he was about to gather the courage to say something (Sam wasn’t really sure what exactly), Dean actually took the initiative.
“Look, Sammy,” Dean wasn’t really looking at him. Sam watched as Dean’s hand traveled over the roof of the Impala before coming down and settling on the handle.
“Do you uh… wanna go for a drive?”
An emotion, too fragile for him to name, swelled within Sam’s chest and he struggled to choke out, “Yeah, Dean. I’d like that.”
Sam walked around the car to slide into the passenger seat. The smell of old leather and stale air hit him, and Sam was instantly transported back to childhood. He remembered the hours spent in this car, driving cross country with Dad and Dean. Riding with Dean to the movies, or when Dean taught him to drive in the parking lot of a YMCA when he was fifteen. For a moment, it was like no time had passed at all. Sam was a kid again, and the world was full of possibilities. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Dean started the car and the engine sounded like music to Sam’s ears.
“There’s a place not far away on the mountain we could go to,” Sam suggested. “It’s kinda a scenic overlook.”
Dean looked at him and Sam was trying so hard to figure out what he was thinking. But Dean turned away too quickly, shifting the car into gear before saying, “Okay.”
They drove up the winding mountain roads in silence, accompanied only by the roar of the car’s engines and the squeal of its tires. Dean didn’t put on any music and Sam wasn’t about to either. Although, he did notice the box of cassette tapes sitting in the backseat when he got in.
The drive was both too long and too short. Sam hadn’t even come close to figuring out what he was going to say to Dean by the time they were pulling off the side of the road. Dean had parked the car so that they were staring straight off the edge of the mountain. Sam looked out at the vast expanse of mountains and valleys below. The sun was falling low in the sky, casting a fiery glow across the world. The clouds were ablaze with color, and the mountains were silhouetted against the setting sun. The only noise was the click click click of the Impala’s engine as she cooled down.
They sat in silence for another few moments before Sam quietly whispered, “I never thought I’d miss this car so much.”
“Yeah?” Dean’s voice was quiet too.
“Yeah,” Sam continued. “When I saw you driving it, I was really surprised. I never thought Dad would let you have it.”
Dean just hummed thoughtfully. He was staring out the front window, the side of his face glowing in the afternoon light.
“I didn’t ask before but…How is Dad?”
Dean was silent for a moment before he sighed. He turned toward Sam and the look he gave him was enough for Sam to know that whatever Dean was about to say, it was going to be bad news.
“Dad he…” Dean breathed out. “He passed away about three years ago now.”
“How?” Sam managed to croak out through the shock and numbness that was closing around his throat.
“Car accident, he...” Dean paused. “He was hit by a semi. They said that he never knew what hit him.”
“I…I…” Sam’s whole body was shaking. His breath was coming out in strangled gasps as he tried to wrap his brain around the fact that his father was dead.
He felt Dean's hand land on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Sammy.”
“No Dean!” Sam shoved his hand away. He turned to face Dean as a barrage of anger, grief, regret and denial flooded through him at once. “It's not okay! How can it be okay knowing that the last time I talked to Dad, I told him that I hated him!? That I never wanted to see him again!? And now… now he’s…” Sam’s breaths came in shallow, ragged pants and tears spilled over onto his cheeks.
“I know it’s stupid. I mean I've been here for a while and I knew…” he was sobbing now, balling his fists into his eyes as if that could stop the tears. “I knew I was probably never going to see you and Dad again. I thought I was prepared but… knowing that I’ll never see him again, because he’s gone…”
He felt Dean wrap his arms around him into a fierce embrace, as if Dean could squeeze all the sadness and pain out of him at once. It reminded Sam of all the times Dean hugged him as a kid, which only made him cry harder.
“It’s not fair!” Sam sobbed into Dean’s shirt. “Why? Why am I so upset? I mean, he was awful, Dean! He treated us like shit! He couldn’t hold down a job so you had to…you had to…” Sam couldn’t even bear to think about what Dean had had to do. For him.
Sam looked up at Dean and froze. Dean looked so, so sad. Like he had been crying himself, although there were no tears in his eyes. He had never seen Dean look like that before. Dean wore an expression of someone who had been through too much pain. It was an expression that would stay with Sam for a long time.
“Dean, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam gasped as he devolved into another fit of sobs. Through his tears he heard Dean whispering.
“Sam, hey Sammy. Shhhh, it’s okay. Really, it's okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
***
They sat next to each other on the hood of the car, their shoulders barely touching. The sun had long set by now, and the night air was cool against the dried tears on Sam’s face.
“Dad, he…” Dean began softly. “It was so sudden. I didn’t know what to do. I ended up burying him next to mom back in Lawrence. Not that we’d been there since we were kids. But, I figured it was what he would’ve wanted.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that all on your own,” Sam apologized softly.
“It’s alright, Sammy. I'm not…I'm not mad about any of that. I get it.” Dean was looking off into the night. He quietly admitted, “I was also not really in contact with him anymore by that point.”
“Really?” That surprised Sam. Dean didn’t butt heads with Dad nearly as much as he did growing up. Then again, Sam had learned a lot of new things about Dean recently.
“Yeah, after you left we kinda split. I got a job as a mechanic and he just…kept doing his own thing. I sent him money every month, but we didn't really talk much.”
“You worked as a mechanic? That really seems like you,” Sam remarked, pleased.
“Yeah, I liked it a lot. Got to work on cars all day. It was tough, but fun,” Sam smiled a bit at the pride he could hear in Dean’s voice. “I learned a lot and eventually the boss let me take the lead on a lot of the work. And it was better than…” Dean trailed off. The moon had come out by now, casting enough light for Sam to see Dean clench his fists in the fabric of his jeans.
Sam felt his chest tightening, like a hand had punched through his sternum and was squeezing his heart. His eyes began to water as the regrets of the past came back to haunt him like ghosts.
“Dean I'm–”
“Don't you dare apologize,” Dean cut him off.
“What? But Dean, you–”
“I did what I did and it was my choice. I did it for both of us. So that we could eat real food and wear nice clothes and sleep in an apartment instead of shitty motels.”
“Dean, it wasn't a choice you should’ve had to make! You were just a kid!” Sam argued. “You shouldn't have had to do any of that! It was Dad’s job to take care of us, not yours.”
“Sam, it is my job to take care of you,” Dean countered. “It’ll always be my job. You're my brother. I'm not gonna sit here and apologize. I did what I did and yeah it sucked. And yeah I'm probably fucked up. But at the end of the day, it's my life and I did what I had to. I don't regret it.”
“I get what you’re saying Dean, but you can’t expect me not to be upset when I hear that you had to prostitute yourself in order to take care of us. How could I just be okay with that? How can I not feel guilty or resent dad? Why did you even do that? How…how old were you when—”
“Sam, don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to,” Dean shut down that line of inquiry. “Knowing the nitty gritty details is not gonna make either of us happy. It'll just make us both feel like shit.”
Sam looked down at his lap, tears threatening to spill over once again. They sat in silence for a long while. The sounds of the night floated around them. The silence was heavy and full of unspoken things.
“Can I ask one thing though, Dean?” Sam hesitated. “Why are you still doing it now? I mean, that is what you’re doing for work now, right? Or are you a mechanic too?” Claire had made it pretty clear the other day that Dean was still working as a prostitute. Sam didn’t understand why Dean would still be doing that after all this time, especially when he mentioned just now that he liked working as a mechanic more.
Dean sighed, “I quit the garage after dad died. There was a lot going on at that time… it’s a long story. I went back to sex work after that.”
Sam looked away. He glanced up at the moon that was slowly rising higher in the sky, illuminating the landscape in a gentle glow.
“Sammy,” Dean began. “You don't need to be mad at Dad or our shitty life or whatever on my behalf. It's my life and my fucked up childhood. It's my cross to bear, okay?”
“But I’m your brother, Dean. I want to bear that cross with you,” Sam turned toward Dean to look him in the eye. “We found each other again after all this time. You were there for me my whole life, in ways I didn’t even know until now. I wanna be there for you too. I don’t want to fight and keep secrets or tip toe around each other anymore.”
“I don’t want that either, Sammy,” Dean said. “I also…want us to be like we were before.”
Sam breathed a sigh of relief. A string of hope tugged at his heart.
“Dean, does that mean you’re gonna stay here?” Sam didn’t care if he sounded desperate. He was desperate. Desperate to have the only family he had left safe beside him.
Dean was quiet for a long moment. His voice was low as he murmured, “Claire and I talked about giving it a try here. She’s gonna start school on Monday.”
“Really?” Sam's voice and smile were shaky.
Dean smiled back.
Chapter 5
Notes:
Hello! I'm back at it again with another chapter! And it's a long one too! Thank you for all the comments so far, I'm really enjoying hearing what everyine thinks <3
Please enjoy!
Chapter Text
“You have your phone?”
“Yes.”
“And it's charged?”
“Yes.”
“You have your lunch and your water bottle and–”
“Yes! Oh my god, Dean I’m seventeen, not seven,” Claire’s whining certainly sounded like a seven-year old’s. “I’m fine, can I go now?”
Dean sighed in defeat, “Sorry just… have fun okay?”
“I will,” Claire turned around and hauled her bag over her shoulder. “Bye!”
And with that Claire rushed out the door to walk to her first day of summer make-up classes. Dean didn’t try to drive her or anything. Claire would have thrown an absolute hissy fit if he'd done something that embarrassing. Dean knew he was worrying over nothing. Claire was going to be fine. She was just going to school. It was literally ten minutes away. Dean had been prepared for Claire to go to school in the fall before they came here. But this felt different somehow. The fact that Claire was going to practice her powers still left Dean feeling uneasy.
Dean paced around the tiny cabin all morning like a trapped animal. Claire had normal classes in the morning, so Dean would go meet up with her at the school around one o’clock. By the time noon rolled around, Dean had vacuumed and mopped the floors, washed all the bedding, and deep cleaned the bathroom.
Dean was just about to get started scrubbing down the kitchen when he heard a knock on the door. He opened the front door of the cabin to find Sam standing right outside. He was wearing a T-shirt, athletic shorts and running shoes. Sam had always been kind of an exercise freak, but today especially he was dressed like a model for some sort of sportswear catalog.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean greeted him. “Come on in.” Dean opened the door wide to let him inside. Even though they had agreed for Sam to come over today, Dean still felt a little awkward. Their conversation the other night had been…tough. Emotional, as Sam would say. Having to break the news of Dad’s death to Sam hadn't been easy. Talking about all the shit he went through growing up had been even harder. Even if Dean only gave Sam the CliffNotes. But afterwards, Dean had felt…not good exactly, but optimistic about their relationship. He hoped that they could continue on this track and get to a place where they could be like they were before.
Sam walked in and looked around the space. “Doing some cleaning?”
“Yeah,” Dean answered. “Just tidying up, ya know.” He walked over to the corner to put the vacuum back in the closet. He was a bit embarrassed to have been caught stress cleaning while Claire was away.
Sam just hummed as he looked around, not really meeting Dean’s eyes. It looked like Dean was not the only one feeling awkward.
“You’re a bit early,” Dean noted. “We don’t have to go for another hour.” Sam and Dean planned to walk over to the school together. Sam had offered to be there for the whole orientation process that Dean and Claire were going to go through today.
“I know,” Sam said. “I just thought we could talk a bit more first.”
“Oh,” Dean said. “Uh, yeah, sure.”
Without a vacuum in hand, Dean felt suddenly at a loss. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Sam seemed to be feeling it too. He kicked the toe of his shoe into the thick shag carpet once, twice, a third time.
“What did you want to talk about?” Dean asked, desperate to break the tension.
Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders rising up toward his ears before falling back down. “Well, I know we talked about it a little the other day. But I just wanted to make sure you were prepared for today.”
They had talked about it. Sam told him how this whole “welcome shindig” would go. Dean and Claire needed to agree to all the BS rules of the town and they would ask them both about their talents. That, or Pam could psychically read them instead. Having some psychic rummage around in his head was a hard no for Dean, and one that he had never realized was on the list. And in his line of work, he already thought he had a pretty good idea of what his hard nos were.
“Yeah, Sam. I'm prepared,” Dean said with more confidence than he truly felt.
“So you’re ready to talk about your talent?” Sam, blunt as ever, cut straight to the point.
“Yes,” Dean answered. He would be able to do it. Probably. He might have practiced a lot in the mirror yesterday.
“Dean, I gotta ask…” Sam began and Dean’s heart rate skyrocketed. Oh, god. Was Sam gonna ask him about his powers right now? Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. It looked like he wasn’t as ready as he thought.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were a mutant, too?” Sam finally asked.
Dean breathed a small sigh of relief, thankful that Sam hadn’t asked that question yet. But still, this was another thing that Dean didn’t want to talk about. The circumstances surrounding how Dean found out he was a mutant was something that he would never tell a single soul.
He looked away, ashamed of the half-lie he was about to tell his brother. But he was much more ashamed of the truth. “I didn’t know, not for sure, until you had already left for California.”
“You didn’t know for sure? But you suspected?”
“I mean some weird stuff happened…but I didn't really know.”
“What kind of weird stuff?” Sam insisted.
Dean stopped. This conversation was quickly veering into dangerous territory. But there was something else nagging at Dean. Something that had been sitting in the back of his mind since their first fight at the restaurant last week. He looked back at Sam and squared his jaw.
“Why is it so important to you?” Dean asked.“Why does it matter if I knew or not?” Sam had gotten so angry when he found out that Dean was a mutant. It had really caught Dean off guard. So much so that he hadn't known how to respond, which is why he had hightailed it out of there.
“It matters because I was so alone growing up,” Sam’s voice grew agitated and desperate as he pressed on. “I thought I was a freak, Dean. Sometimes, some of the things you said made me feel like I was a freak.”
“What?” Dean sputtered. “When did I–”
“All the time!” Sam ranted, cutting him off. “You always told me to just be normal and to hide who I was. Like I was some kind of monster.”
“I was trying to protect you, Sam!” Dean defended. “You know what would have happened if someone found out about you! Do you know how hard it was to keep it a secret? Especially from Dad? He would’ve gone ballistic!”
“I get that Dean, I really do,” Sam looked at him with the pleading eyes of a wounded animal. “But the things you said…It hurt me every time, worse than anything dad ever said. That’s why I left, I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to live my life. Be myself. I can’t pretend to be something I'm not.”
“Sammy…” Dean choked out. Was Sam being serious? He thought that he was worse than dad? Sure, yeah Dean was tough on Sam when they were kids. He had to be. They were in a very precarious situation growing up. Any screw ups, any teacher or neighbor that paid just a little too much attention, could've gotten them either flagged by the government and dragged off to a reservation or sent off to foster care. Dean didn’t really know which was worse. Either way, there would be no guarantee they would have been able to stay together. So of course Dean had told Sam he needed to hide his powers. Of course Dean yelled at Sam every time he used them. It was to protect him. To protect them.
And, what, now Sam was saying that it was too much? Or that it was not enough? After everything Dean did for Sam, dropping out of highschool to work at a restaurant during the day and busting his ass on the street at night, that it wasn’t enough? Then what the hell had he done all that for?
“I know you were trying to protect me, Dean,” Sam was saying. “I know…I know how much you sacrificed for me.'' Sam paused, his eyes glossing over with tears. Dean found it hard to breathe for a moment, his throat seizing with frustration and guilt. Sam sighed, loud and heavy. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or start an argument, I just…needed to know.” Sam looked down at the ground. Despite being the size of a giraffe, Sam began to shrink in on himself, his arms wrapped protectively around his body.
They stood facing each other like two strangers, even though they knew each other better than anyone else. Dean was thankful for the silence. He didn’t know what to say or how to feel in this moment. All he could do was stand there, uselessly, like a fish stranded on the beach, gasping desperately at the air.
“I’m sorry,” Dean admitted after a while. “I was just…I was scared shitless that something was gonna happen to you. Every time you used your powers, I just imagined the cops bursting in and taking you away. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. ‘M sorry Sammy.”
“I know, Dean,” Sam acknowledged with a soft smile. “I know you were doing your best.”
It took Dean a few seconds, but finally he smiled back, just a small twitch of his lips. The tension between them eased. They could do this. They could get past all the bullshit of the past and they could be family again. One step at a time.
“Anyway,” Dean began, grateful to be done with this moment of vulnerability. “Do you want some lunch? I got plenty of stuff for sandwiches.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb and pointed at the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Sam smiled wide and genuine. “That’d be great, Dean.”
***
Things were pretty normal between them after that. Dean made them both a quick lunch which they scarfed down before heading off to the school. Dean wanted to drive over but everyone in this hick town seemed insistent on walking everywhere so that’s what they did. On the walk over, he and Sam fell into a more comfortable rhythm, chatting about everything from sports to TV shows.
Dean was halfway through trying to convince Sam to watch True Detective when they arrived at the school. The dread that had slowly been piling up like dirty laundry slammed into him with full force. Shit. He was really gonna do this. In front of his brother and Claire and god knows who else. He swallowed the lump in his throat and followed Sam inside the school.
Sam led them into a classroom that had been turned into a sort of meeting room. Many smaller tables were arranged into one larger one, so that everyone could sit and face each other. Claire was already there, sitting on the side of the table closest to the door. She had a notebook in front of her and was twirling a pencil between her fingers. Dean sat down next to Claire and Sam sat beside him.
Across from them at the table was Pam, Jody, and an older woman Dean hadn’t seen before. Her skin was very dark and she had a mass of thick black curls piled on top of her head. She smiled warmly as they sat down. That redhead from the police station, Dean was pretty sure her name was Charlie, was also there. She was standing at the front of the room messing around with a computer and a projector. Dean looked toward the screen and saw the first slide in a presentation titled “Welcome to Eden Falls: It’s for Everyone.” Dean cringed. He was not looking forward to this.
“Hey Sam, hey Dean,” Jody greeted them. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” Sam smiled back at her. “How are you guys?”
They exchanged pleasantries for a moment while Dean stayed quiet, arms crossed over his chest. Now that he was here, now that he was actually doing this…Dean wasn’t ashamed to admit he was nervous as hell. Even though it was air conditioned in here, he was sweating like a whore in church.
Dean decided to check in on Claire because he was worried about her and also because he needed a distraction.
“How was school this morning?” he asked.
Claire turned to him, “It was fine. They had me do a couple of assessments. Ya know, reading and math and stuff.”
Dean hummed, “Sounds super fun.” Claire rolled her eyes and Dean smirked.
“Well,” Pam called for everyone’s attention. Dean looked back in her direction. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get started. Just for everyone’s sake, we’ll do a round of introductions. So please, say your name, your roll here and, just for fun, your favorite pizza topping.”
Oh, god, kill him now.
“I’ll start, my name is Pamela Barnes, but everyone calls me Pam. I’m an English teacher here at Marshall high school and I’m also on the town council. My favorite pizza topping is barbeque chicken.”
Pam looked over to her right at Jody. Looks like they were gonna go around in a circle, which meant Dean wouldn’t be last. Thank god for small miracles.
“I’m Jody Mills, I’m the sheriff here and I’m also on the council. I’d have to say, I love a good Hawaiian pizza.” Dean resisted the urge to groan. This was so fucking mindnumbing that Dean thought his brian cells would leak out through his ears.
Next up was the lady Dean didn’t know. She smiled wide as she introduced herself. “Hello, my name is Missouri Mosely, and I'm the Principal of this fine establishment. I’m on the Eden Falls town council as well.” Geez, were they all on the council? If they all knew each other then why were they doing something so fricken’ lame. “And I love peppers and onions on my pizza.”
It was Sam’s turn now. Dean looked at him as he smiled wide and introduced himself. “Hey everyone. I’m Sam Winchester and my favorite pizza topping is probably arugula.”
Dean scoffed, “Seriously?” Sam just shrugged.
Shit, now it was his turn. Dean looked back across the table at the eager faces waiting for him to introduce himself. Dean felt unreasonably nervous. If he was this nervous already, it was only going to get worse as they went along. He took a deep steadying breath.
“I’m Dean Winchester. Sam’s brother. I like bacon.”
They nodded, apparently satisfied with his superficial answer. Dean wasn’t sure why but a huge wave of relief washed over him as the spotlight moved onto Claire.
“I’m Claire Novak and my favorite kind of pizza is pepperoni,” Claire introduced herself. Dean knew she would say pepperoni. It was what she always got when they ordered pizza.
Last but not least. Dean turned his eyes to Charlie, who was still standing next to the projector screen.
“Hey guys!” She said with a sunny smile. “I’m Charlie Bradbury, new resident ambassador as well as town IT specialist extraordinaire and I love anchovies!” She put two thumbs up and managed to smile even wider.
Now that that was over with, Pam took the lead again. “So, now that we all know each other, let’s get started.” Pam reached across the table and handed Dean and Claire a large packet of papers each. They were stapled together in the corner and read “Eden Falls Welcome Handbook” in large letters on the front. Jody also reached over and handed them some pens from a cup.
“The packets are for you to keep and you can refer to them during the presentation if you want,” Charlie said. Dean looked up from where he had started leafing through the papers to see that she was ready to start presenting. “It outlines everything in more detail, but if you have any questions as we go along, just let us know.”
“So,” Charlie took a deep breath and looked at Dean and Claire with her seemingly permanent smile. “Welcome to Eden falls. On behalf of the entire community, I would like to welcome you as our newest residents. We're so glad that you've chosen to make our town your home. Eden Falls may be small, but we're a town where people know their neighbors and look out for each other.
We have a lot to offer our residents. We have a great school, awesome local businesses, and a strong sense of community. We all come together for events like our annual summer festival and our New Year’s parade.
I know that moving to a new place can be daunting. It can take time to find your place and feel like you belong. But we want you to know that you're welcome here. We're here to support you, keep you safe and help you in any way we can. So please, make yourself at home.”
Dean began to tune out after a few minutes. His leg nervously bounced as her presentation went on and she started talking about the history of the town. The longer this whole thing dragged on, the more nervous Dean was about “the main event.” Dean’s whole body was clenched so tight, he could have eaten coal and shit diamonds.
“Let’s go over some of the rules,” Charlie was saying and Dean snapped back to reality. “If you look at page three of your packets, you can see a detailed explanation of all the regulations and guidelines the town has in order to keep everyone safe. Take a minute to look over them and let me know if you have any questions.”
Dean and Claire opened the packets as instructed. Inside, he saw line after line of rules. Dean scanned the page and his mouth began to curl down into a frown. Some of them were pretty self-explanatory. Things like:
- Do not discuss the mission, values and/or location of Eden Falls with any government officials, organizations, or anti-mutant groups either in person or via written communication.
- Do not discuss or reveal the “exceptional status” of any resident to any persons or organizations outside of Eden Falls.
- Do not invite or otherwise bring any persons or entities with ties to the government or anti-mutant organizations to Eden Falls under any circumstances.
Those rules made sense. They needed to keep this place a secret after all. Although they did sound a bit like they were taken directly from Jim Jones's playbook. But as Dean kept reading, his frown grew deeper and deeper as the rules got more and more strict. They began to look less and less like rules and more like dictates, stuff like:
- You must delete any and all online presence and social media, including (but not limited to) Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, and Twitter. You must never upload photographs to the internet or social media of the town and/or its residents.
- Prioritize purchasing goods and services from local vendors. If you must leave Eden Falls to make a purchase or receive a service, you must go to one of our trusted vendors and associates (see the list on page seven for more details). (What the hell?)
- You must tell at least one other resident (either verbally or through written note or text message) if you plan to leave the town limits, even for a short time. You must tell them the route, destination, purpose of your trip, and estimated time of departure and return. (Oh, hell no.)
- The town council reserves the right to monitor all online activity, including but not limited to: web searches, internet browsing history, email and other electronic communications. (Ok, seriously?)
The list went on and on. Dean flipped to the next couple of pages, just to see how many they were and it went on for three more pages. God, this whole packet was just rules, rules, and more rules. Dean wasn’t sure if he was furious, confused or freaked out.
Dean didn’t even have a moment to object. Charlie had moved her presentation on to the next slide, like telling people that they needed the buddy-system to go out to get milk wasn’t absolutely ridiculous.
“Let’s move on to the next item on our agenda,” Charlie continued. “We’re also here to discuss your talents and your training.” She directed another wide smile in Dean and Claire’s direction. Dean felt his stomach drop like a skydiver without a parachute.
“Claire, we saw that fireball you made the other day. Pretty impressive. Anything else you can do?” Pam asked from across the table.
Dean turned to Claire, who was still twirling the pencil in her hand. Dean balled his hands into fists under the table and resisted the urge to interject. This was Claire’s powers they were talking about. It was her training and her moment. Dean needed to let her speak, even if it killed him inside.
“Well, I don’t really know. It just sorta comes out,” Claire said. “Sometimes it's like a fire and sometimes it's just heat. Oh, and I also can’t get burned or hurt by fire, even ones I didn’t make.”
Missouri hummed then asked, “Have you ever tried to control or put out a fire you didn’t start?”
“No, um, not really.”
“When did your talent manifest?” Missouri followed up.
“I don’t know,” Claire answered. “At least I don’t remember. My mom told me that she knew from when I was young. She said I started some fires when I was, like, a baby.”
“What has been difficult for you so far?” Sam asked.
“Well,” Claire cast a sideways glance at Dean. “I couldn’t ever really practice ‘cause I didn't want to get caught. I was always too afraid I was gonna start a large fire and burn everything down or hurt someone.”
“Of course,” Jody agreed. “That makes sense.” The others around the table nodded.
“What are your goals?” Sam continued. “What are you hoping to get out of this training?”
“I…” Claire took a deep breath. Dean reached over and gave her a gentle pat on the arm. He wasn’t sure if it was more for him or for her. “I want to be able to control it. Like I said it just…comes out sometimes and I don’t want to hurt anyone by accident.”
“Well, we can absolutely help with that!” Charlie promised with a smile. “Don't worry, you’ll be feeling more confident and in control in no time!”
Dean saw Claire's lips turn up into a smile as well. Despite all Dean’s worries, he hoped that this would be good for Claire. That they could make good on their promises and she could learn how to control her powers. He wanted that for her, he really did. Even if he couldn’t do it for himself, Claire deserved the chance to understand her powers.
“Have you given any thought to the training, Dean?” Pam asked him. Dean turned to look back at her.
“No, I’m just here to make sure Claire's all set.”
“Ok. If you ever change your mind, you can join. It’s open to everyone in the town, not just students.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Dean confirmed. He looked down at the table and idly fiddled with the corner of the packet of papers as something to do.
“So then Dean,” Sam ventured cautiously. “Have you decided if you’d rather tell us or have a reading done?” Dean knew that he was next on the chopping block, but he still tensed up when Sam asked that question.
Dean had thought long and hard about what he'd do. Sam had warned him that he would need to decide, because they would ask him today. Dean figured that it would be a good time to just get it over with. If he took care of this now, then hopefully they would all stop asking about his powers and he would never have to deal with it again. Dean knew for a fact that he wouldn’t let Pam psychically read him. That meant only one other option. He had to tell them about his powers.
Dean had prepared for this. He could do this. He had talked to Claire and prepared her too, so that she knew what he was going to do. So that she wouldn’t be surprised and blurt out the truth.
“Sorry Pam, no offense,” Dean said. “But I don’t want anyone digging around in my head and looking at my aura or whatever.”
Pam chuckled, “No offense taken.”
“So, could you tell us about your talent?” Missouri put the question to Dean. “When did you first realize you were exceptional?”
Dean took a deep breath, trying to unclench and unwind all the tension in his body. He could do this. He’d prepared. He’d practiced. He could do this. Dean glanced at Sam, ready to repeat what he’d told him earlier.
“I didn’t really know for sure until I was about 21 or 22.”
“Really?” Missouri remarked. “That’s pretty old. Most talents manifest during puberty, if not at birth or early childhood.”
“Dean, you said that some weird stuff happened before that?” Sam prodded. Damn, Dean knew Sam would ask about that again. He was like a frickin’ dog with a bone.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know what it all meant until later,” Dean answered vaguely.
The group paused, clearly waiting for him to elaborate. But Dean wasn’t going to give them anything they didn’t expressly ask for. He crossed his arms back over his chest.
“So then, Dean, what is your talent?” Pam finally asked the million dollar question
Dean took a deep breath in, letting the air fill his chest with courage. Moment of truth.
“I can like, move stuff. You know, with my mind? What’s it called…”
“Telekinesis?” Pam provided.
“Yeah, that.”
“That’s it?” Sam asked. He sounded a strange mix of surprised and annoyed. Dean couldn’t say for sure ‘cause he refused to look at Sam. He refused to look at anyone. He steadfastly kept his gaze on a coffee stain on the table that looked kinda like the Millennium Falcon.
“Pretty much,” Dean grunted.
“Can you show us?” Sam practically demanded. Dean recoiled a bit, a scathing insult ready on his tongue. But he stopped himself, biting down hard in his bottom lip.
Dean thought about what Sam had said earlier back at the cabin. That was probably why he had his panties all up in a twist about Dean’s powers now.
Dean chewed on his lip, the dark taste of blood filling his mouth. He knew that they’d ask. That he would have to demonstrate. After all the bitching and moaning he did last week, it would be weird if they just took his word for it.
Dean never used this power, so he actually had to practice a bit so that he wouldn't look like a total idiot in front of everyone. The last time Dean had used any of it had been to break Claire out of the police station last week. Before that, Dean couldn’t even remember. It was before he met Lisa, that was for sure. So maybe four years ago? Five?
After agonizing for a bit about what to tell them and what to show them, Dean had buckled down to practice. He spent all of yesterday moving stuff. He started small, of course, lifting his keys and the TV remote. Dean had been satisfied with just that but Claire had egged him on and challenged him to lift the couch. While she was sitting on it. After a couple of tries, Dean had managed to lift it in the air and spin it around. Claire had been laughing the whole time, and while Dean complained about it being distracting, by the end he was laughing too. He hadn’t even realized how much fun he was having until his stomach began to hurt from all his laughter. Dean hated his powers so much that it had never occurred to him before that using any of it could be fun.
Dean looked around the table for something to move. He settled on the cup full of pens and pencils in front of Jody. Dean raised his right hand and with a small gesture lifted the cup from the table. It lifted a couple inches in the air, spun around and then he gently placed it back down.
Moving little stuff like this wasn’t really a problem. Dean hadn’t used it in years, but with all the practice he did yesterday, he picked it up again in no time. But then there was the other thing. Which, judging by the stares, the whole group noticed right away.
“Dean, your eyes…” Sam trailed off.
Dean turned away and closed his eyes. His eyes always turned a weird color when he used his powers. He didn’t know why. He didn’t even realize it the first few times he used them. Claire had been pretty shocked when she first saw it yesterday, even though Dean had warned her. It had taken her a while to pick her jaw up from the floor and stop staring. Dean felt pretty guilty for freaking her out. He couldn’t blame her though. Even Dean thought it was super creepy that his eyes went blood red all over, even the white parts. It looked like he’d had botched eye surgery or something.
“Yeah, that’s why I don’t like to use it,” Dean lied. “It’s creepy.” Well, it was part true. He did hate how his eyes changed.
“Dean…” Sam’s voice was a quiet whisper, but Dean refused to look over at him to see what it meant.
“Aww, come on!” Charlie said. “It’s not that bad. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!”
“That’s right,” Missouri said. “Telekinesis is a very useful talent, and there are a couple others here who can do the same thing.”
“Good for them,” Dean bit out. God, he wanted this to be over.
“Thank you for sharing that with us, Dean,” Missouri continued. “We understand that it is often difficult for people who have had to stay hidden for so long to express their talents freely. We appreciate your transparency.” Dean glanced over at Missouri, who looked sincere. She was smiling wide and friendly. Dean let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“There is one more thing I’ve been meaning to ask you about,” Sam said. Dean sucked that relieved breath back in before it could escape entirely. “How did you get into the police station to get to Claire last week? Did you use your talent to break in?”
Shit. Dean hadn’t thought he’d ask about that. He hadn’t prepared an answer. Time to bullshit.
“Yeah, I did,” Dean kept his response short and sweet. He faced Sam with a confident gaze, hoping he wouldn’t call his bluff. But Sam had one of his trademark bitchfaces in full force. His eyebrows were furrowed, his nose was flared, and his mouth was twisted into a grimace. It was like he was trying to convey every ounce of his displeasure with his facial expression.
For a moment, Dean felt guilt race through him like a shock of static electricity. Sam had been so upset this morning, and last week when he found out Dean had kept this secret from him the whole time. And Dean was still keeping secrets. Sam could probably tell Dean was holding back. Sam knew his tells just like Dean knew his. He was probably pissed that Dean wasn’t professing his whole life’s story and showing off his powers. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell Sam, much less a bunch of strangers, about his power. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
They moved on to a couple more logistical topics, such as confirming that Dean and Claire would be staying in the rental cabin for the time being. But soon, the meeting came to an end and Dean was thanking every god he knew that the little display he put on just now was enough to satisfy them. Hopefully, he would never, ever have to do that again.
***
Sam watched Dean and Claire follow Jody and Charlie out the door of the meeting room and down the hall toward the gym. He purposefully stayed behind under the guise of helping clean up so he could ask Missouri and Pam for their thoughts.
It was customary for one of them to be in attendance at these induction meetings. As psychics, they would be able to tell if someone had bad intentions or were lying about their talents. Although it was rare, experience taught the town that it was better to be safe than sorry.
“So what do you think?” Sam probed casually, gathering up the pens that had scattered across the table.
“I think Claire’s gonna be great,” Pam answered, pushing her chair back under the table. “She has a lot of potential and a lot of untapped power.”
Missouri nodded, “She is eager to learn. I think she will be an excellent student.” Missouri rounded the corner of the table and walked over to stand next to Sam.
“And Dean?” Sam asked, his voice cracking a bit.
They both turned discerning looks at Sam. Even if they weren’t both psychics, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that that was what Sam really wanted to know.
“What do you think?” Missouri countered Sam’s question with one of her own. She had a habit of doing that.
“I think that I don’t need to be psychic to know that he was holding back,” Sam said. “The question is, was he lying?”
Missouri and Pam shared a look. Not for the first time, Sam wondered if they could communicate without speaking.
“From what I could tell, everything he said was the truth,” Pam confirmed. “But you’re right. He was holding back on us. He was extremely tense from the moment he walked in. But when he was talking about his talent…” Pam whistled. “That was something else.”
Missouri nodded in affirmation, “That boy was wound tighter than a three-day clock.”
Sam nodded. He could tell Dean was uncomfortable based on his body language. His leg tapping was driving Sam crazy the whole time.
“Could you sense anything?” Sam asked, desperate for more information. It’s not like Dean was the most transparent with his feelings. He hadn’t changed that much from when they were younger.
“Without touching him? Not much,” Pam admitted.
Sam looked to Missouri. She was an extremely powerful psychic and might have been able to get something that Pam couldn’t.
“It was difficult to see much through his discomfort,” Missouri agreed. “Claire on the other hand, that girl may have a good poker face, but inside she’s much more of an open book.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her anxiety spiked when Dean used his talent,” Missouri explained. “She was definitely worried about something. As soon as he finished, she felt extremely relieved.” Pam nodded along, agreeing with Missouri’s observations.
“Why would that be?” Sam wondered.
“It could be anything honestly,” Pam sighed. “Maybe Dean has trouble controlling it or she never saw him use it before. We can only get so much without actually touching a person.”
Sam’s brow furrowed as he thought about Dean’s talent. Telekinesis was not uncommon, there were several others in town who could do that as well. Sam was thinking, or maybe more like hoping, that Dean’s talents would be similar to his own. Family members often displayed related abilities.
It was strange, but when he found out that all Dean could do was move things with his mind, he couldn’t help but feel a little…disappointed? Disgruntled? Maybe Sam had just built it up in his head so much, he probably would’ve been dissatisfied no matter what talent Dean ended up having. He had spent the last week agonizing about the fact that his brother, that he had grown up with, shared a room with, and hardly separated from for the first eighteen years of his life, had been exceptional the whole time.
But watching his eyes turn color like that had been…eerie. Dean’s bright green eyes had turned a sinister blood red so suddenly, Sam had felt a shiver run down his spine. He remembered what Dean had said this morning, about being terrified that the police would come and take them away as kids. Sam felt that hee understood a bit more why Dean would be reluctant to show any of his talent. If anyone had seen that…Dean would’ve been locked up no questions asked.
“Sam,'' Missouri placed her hand on his arm. He looked down at her warm smile and kind eyes. “I know you're worried about him, honey. But trust me, it’ll all work out. Things like this just take time, is all.” Shoot. Missouri could probably feel Sam’s anxiety the whole time as well. He felt a bit embarrassed by that in retrospect.
“That’s right,” Pam agreed, smiling. “He showed us his talent and agreed to all the rules. Sure, he put up some fuss last week, but that's nothing new. We've gotten pushback before. It’ll all be fine.”
“Yeah, you're right. Thanks,” Sam appreciated their efforts to cheer him up.
Pam and Sam made their way to the gym to join the others, while Missouri said her goodbyes and went back to her own office to get some work done. Even though the students were technically on summer break, Missouri's work was never truly done. Once inside the gym, Pam joined Bobby, who was standing in front of the small group of teens giving instructions in a gruff tone.
Sam looked off to the side where Dean was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He walked over and stood beside him. Dean’s eyes never left the group. He was watching Claire like a nervous parent at their kid’s first little league game.
They stood side by side in silence while Pam and Bobby went over the agenda and the instructions for the training session today. Sam had a hard time focusing on what they were saying. It’s not that he was too far away, he could hear just fine. The sound Bobby’s grouchy voice carried and echoed across the gym. But Sam couldn’t stop thinking about Dean.
“Dean?” Sam said without really meaning to. He hadn’t thought out what he was going to say beyond the fact that he wanted to say something.
“Yeah Sam?”
Sam paused, taking in a deep breath. “Thanks for doing this Dean,” he ended up saying. “I know…I know that that was hard for you just now.”
Dean grunted in affirmation, “Yeah well, now it’s done and I don’t ever have to do it again.”
“Dean, I’m not trying to push you, but,” Sam pushed. “Why are you so against using your talents? Telekinesis is not really anything to be afraid of.”
“I told you Sam,” Dean replied, eyes not straying from Claire and the group. “My eyes get all weird. And I never wanted to get caught, so I just…don’t use it ever.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Is that the only reason?”
Dean scoffed, “Well, not getting locked up in Purgatory is a pretty big motivating factor in most of my life decisions.”
“But you’re here now,” Sam pleaded. “There’s no chance that will happen. You could come train with me and—”
“Sorry Sam,” Dean interrupted. “But no matter how many blood oaths you make everyone take, there is always, always still a chance that we could get found out.”
“Dean–” Sam was ready to push the point before Dean cut him off.
“Look, Sammy. I’m here,” Dean finally turned to look at him. “I’m trying. Can we just… Can we just take it one step at a time please?”
Sam exhaled a sigh through his nose. He realized he was being impatient. Missouri and Pam were right. Dean had agreed to the rules. He had shown his talent. It would just take some time. Sam shouldn’t let old resentments get in the way of all the progress he and Dean have made the last few days.
“You’re right, Dean,” Sam said. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed so much.”
“‘S fine, Sammy,” Dean acquiesced.
“It’s Sam,” Sam shot back, but his heart felt a bit lighter when he saw a smile tug at Dean’s lips.
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
***
It was way too early on Thursday morning and Castiel was wide awake. Castiel had woken up well before his normal alarm and couldn’t go back to sleep. He laid in bed as the dark veil of the night was slowly peeled away by the rising sun, his bedroom gradually lightening by the minute.
He wouldn’t be up this early without a reason under normal circumstances. Castiel was not what they called a “morning person.” He was more of a “coffee person.” His addiction to the bitter beverage was well known to his friends. Every year he received an inordinate amount of coffee-themed gifts for his birthday. Last year Charlie got him a mug that said “I don’t drink coffee to wake up, I wake up to drink coffee.” Castiel could not devise a logical argument to refute that statement.
Indeed, there was no reason for him to be up this early. He didn’t have any work scheduled for today. He wasn’t meeting with any of his friends or participating in a training session. No, the only reason he was lying in bed staring at the shadows and textures of his ceiling at six am was due to the tight coil of nerves that had settled in his stomach at the thought of seeing Dean again.
Today was the day that Dean was coming over to examine the fence around his vegetable garden. When Dean had offered to come take a look, Castiel had agreed without much deeper thought. They had set a day and time for the next week and that was that. But that was before Dean had said all those things that made his whole body warm from his face to the tip of his tail. That was before Dean had smiled and laughed in a way that made Castiel’s heart stutter in his chest.
Castiel had never encountered a person like Dean before. Granted, there were many people and things Castiel had never encountered before in his thirty years of life. Up until five years ago, he had spent his whole life inside a mutant reservation and then in the Pontiac Federal Detention Center, otherwise known as Purgatory. Even though he was now technically “free,” he had never been to a movie theater or a museum, been on a roller coaster or seen the ocean. He certainly had never met a sex worker before.
But no, that’s not exactly why Dean had a firm hold on Castiel’s thoughts. Alright, maybe a little. It was just that Castiel had never, ever encountered anyone who found him attractive before. Ever.
Even though Castiel was inexperienced in terms of courtship and romance, he wasn’t blind. The way Dean had looked at him…Castiel finally understood what romance novels meant when they said “bedroom eyes.” The things he said…Castiel could not stop replaying Dean’s comment in his mind. You know, not for nothing Castiel, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got paid. All of the evidence led Castiel to the conclusion that Dean found him attractive. That he had been flirting with him.
If Castiel hadn’t completely misread their conversation the other day, that would mean Dean, somehow, found him desirable. The question was, why? Why on earth would someone, anyone, but especially someone as enticing and charismatic as Dean be attracted to Castiel? Castiel had never thought that there would ever be another person who would look at him the way Dean did, let alone be comfortable with the thought of having sexual intercourse with him.
Well, Castiel didn’t know that for certain. However, Dean said that he had had intercourse with with others like Castiel before. And it hadn’t bothered him. Even though Dean was a sex worker, if he had truly felt disgusted by the thought of having sexual relations with someone like him, surely he wouldn't have brought it up to make Castiel feel better about his appearance. Because that is why Dean mentioned it in the first place. Right? Unless Castiel had completely misread the situation. It would not have been the first time.
Before his conversation with Dean the other day, Castiel hadn’t given much thought to whether he was attracted to men or women, both or neither. He had assumed that he would never find someone who would be interested in him, so there was no point in exploring that part of himself. It would just make him feel more alone. But maybe he’d made the wrong assumption.
And after that day, Castiel could say with confidence that he found Dean quite attractive. The way Dean smiled, the way he laughed with his whole body, his enchanting green eyes, the freckles scattered across his face that Castiel could only really see when he got close. He definitely thought Dean was very beautiful.
Castiel groaned and pressed his balled up fists into his eyes as if they could push the tangle of thoughts out of his head. He had been struggling with these new and unusual feelings for the past week. The feelings had only grown in prominence as the days went on and Thursday crept closer and closer. Castiel could no longer tell if he was more excited or more terrified at the thought of seeing Dean again.
Giving up on all hope of returning to sleep, Castiel got up from his bed and stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen. He stood in front of his coffee maker in a trance, slumped over with exhaustion and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he waited for the magical drink to finish brewing. He yawned and stretched his neck from side to side until his spine shifted and cracked.
After an agonizing five minute wait, Castiel finally had his coffee in hand and he took a hesitant sip from the mug, careful not to burn his mouth. From his place in the kitchen, Castiel could look around and see the cozy interior of what had become his home for the past few years. The first floor living space was small, yet comfortable. There was a small dining table with only two chairs as well as a small sofa and recliner in the living room. In the winter Castiel loved nothing more than curling up with a good book in front of the fireplace as he watched the snow turn the landscape outside of his window shades of black and white. The stairs in the corner led to the bedrooms as well as the bathroom. It was perfectly comfortable and suited his solitary lifestyle.
As Castiel nursed his coffee cup, he resolved to put thoughts of Dean aside. He wouldn’t be able to get anything done at all if he spent the whole day agonizing about Dean. Indeed, it would be best to try to keep things friendly between them when Dean arrived at ten o’clock. Castiel made a mental to-do list of all the chores that needed to be done and started planning his day.
After a meager breakfast, Castiel set to work. He started with the laundry, gathering all his dirty clothes from the hamper and bringing them outside. Castiel preferred to hand wash his own clothes. For one, he didn’t have a washing machine in his home, so he would have to go to the laundromat if he wanted to use an automatic machine. Second, he appreciated the chore as a meditative experience, much like gardening. The repetitive motions of scrubbing and rinsing were calming. And third, it was what he was used to. They had done all their laundry by hand while he was growing up, the reservation lacking a lot of modern facilities.
Castiel placed the clothes in a large basin filled with water and added a generous dollop of soap. He rolled up his sleeves and began to hand wash the clothes. His hands moved quickly and efficiently, scrubbing the dirt and grime away. He paid special attention to the collars and cuffs, which were often the dirtiest parts of a garment.
Once the clothes were clean, he rinsed them thoroughly in cold water. He then wrung out the excess water and hung the clothes to dry on the clothesline. He took a step back to admire his work, the clothes fluttering and swaying in the early morning breeze. It was going to be another warm summer day, so the clothes would dry in no time.
Next, Castiel decided to putter around his garden. Before that, though, he went back inside to get changed into the clothes he would wear to meet Dean. It was still early, but he didn’t want to be caught unaware like the last time Dean showed up at his house. Castiel had nearly had a heart attack when Dean had wandered into his property unannounced. Not only had Dean snuck up on him, but he had also seen Castiel's tail.
Castiel never let anyone see his tail. He had been hiding it in his pants since he was old enough to dress himself. Growing up, doctors and scientists would always pull and prod it. Other children would tease him for it, and adults would call him the “devil child.” When he had finally escaped from Purgatory and fled here, he resolved to keep the most most monstrous part of himself hidden. And he had been very successful. Very few people here knew about it.
But then Dean had come barreling into his home, his sanctuary, the only place he could have it out and he saw it. He saw it. And he had said nothing. Dean had barely even reacted. He even had the audacity to suggest to Castiel that having a tail wasn’t even that strange. I’ve seen a lot weirder shit in my line of work than just a blue guy with a tail. Castiel didn’t know if he believed Dean about that. Many of his friends here had told Castiel that he wasn’t a “freak” or a “monster,” that he was just “different” and “exceptional.” But Castiel couldn’t help the bitterness in his heart that formed everytime he compared his situation, his appearance, to the other exceptional people here in Eden Falls.
Castiel bound his tail against the side of his leg with medical bandages before putting on his khaki gardening pants and a shirt. The physical discomfort of having his tail trapped against his leg all day was far less than the emotional turmoil of having it out and on display. Once he was properly dressed, he stepped back outside, gathered his tools and set to work on weeding. Just because Dean was coming to fix the fence didn’t mean Castiel had to let him see all his weeds.
Ten o’clock came around all too soon and Castiel could hear the loud rumbling of a car coming closer. The street to his house was a dead end and Castiel couldn’t even remember the last time any cars had wandered down the road. Most people in the town just walked everywhere, Castiel included. On the rare occasions Castiel had anyone over to visit, they came and went on foot. Not Dean apparently. His car was a sleek, powerful machine. It was long and low to the ground, with a wide hood and a big engine that rumbled like thunder as it approached. Castiel didn’t know anything about cars, but even he could tell that it was well cared for. The car’s glossy black paint and chrome trim glittered and gleamed in the dappled forest sunlight.
The car pulled to a stop on the street in front of the pathway that led to his cottage. Castiel immediately realized that all thoughts of keeping this interaction strictly “friendly” were doomed to fail miserably as Dean got out of the car. Castiel found himself unable to look away as he was captivated by the simple action of Dean walking up the stone path. His eyes traveled over Dean’s tall muscular frame. Dean was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with some design Castiel didn’t recognize under a patterned overshirt. He was wearing heavy boots and had a pair of work gloves sticking out of his pocket. Castiel felt his face begin to grow warm as Dean approached.
Dean smiled, easy and natural, as he walked over to where Castiel stood on the path near his front door. Castiel could only hope that his own answering smile looked as authentic. It felt awkward and uncomfortable on his face.
“Mornin’, Cas,” Dean grinned, his white teeth peeking out from his lips. “Sorry I’m a little early. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“It is not a problem,” he said a bit too fast for even his own ears.
“Oh great. Good,” Dean replied.
Silence fell between them and Castiel shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“Uh, why don't you show me where the fence thing is at?” Dean offered up to break the silence.
“Oh right. Of course,” Castiel felt embarrassed at his lack of hospitality. “Follow me.''
He led Dean down the pathway and over to his vegetable garden. Under normal circumstances, he would be quite proud of the rows of neat, lush plants that were a testament to his hard work and dedication. If only the plants hadn’t been knocked over, uprooted, and half-eaten. The soil was trampled and littered with animal droppings. It was clear that a band of furry bandits had paid a visit the night before. Castiel had done his best to tidy up, but he hadn’t quite finished before Dean arrived. He scowled.
“So what exactly is the problem again?” Dean asked, gaze wandering over the enclosure like he couldn’t see the carnage. “I know you said animals were gettin’ in.”
“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “I believe they are currently coming in through here.” Castiel pointed at the area of the chicken wire that had been twisted and bent. “But everytime I patch up one section they simply find another way to come in.”
Dean hummed as he crouched down in the dirt beside the fence in order to examine it more closely. Castiel’s eyes once again wandered over the pleasing contours of Dean’s body. His gaze was immediately drawn to the sliver of exposed skin where Dean’s shirt had ridden up. His eyes grew wide and his tail moved unconsciously where he had trapped it against his leg. Castiel could see the smooth expanse of Dean’s lower back as well as the waistband of his undershorts peeking out from his jeans. Although he knew that it was entirely inappropriate to be looking at Dean in such a way, Castiel could not stop staring. Guilt and desire clashed inside him and he could do nothing but stand frozen in place.
Dean, oblivious to Castiel’s internal strife, continued his inquiry, “And you think it's rabbits? Not, like, racoons or something?”
“Yes,” Castiel shook his head to rid himself of his unwelcome thoughts. He must get a hold of himself. “I found some animal feces and compared them to those in a book I purchased from the bookstore. The feces were small, round, and dark and matched all of the characteristics of rabbit droppings. At first, I thought it may be deer scat. However, the size was inconsistent and the ends were not tapered into an oval and–” Castiel cut himself off, mortified.
“Sorry,” Castiel looked down at the ground to avoid looking at Dean. What had he been thinking? Dean didn’t want to hear about animal feces of all things. He felt his face heat up again in shame.
“What?” Dean exclaimed. He looked over his shoulder at Castiel. “What for?
“I apologize for discussing such repulsive matters. You do not wish to hear the details of how I identified the rabbit’s…leftovers,” Castiel muttered.
“Nah, man, it's fine.” Dean assured him with a grin. “It was interesting. I wouldn’t be able to tell deer shit from rabbit shit from any other kind of shit. I would just be like, well, that’s shit. Now I know for the future.” Dean grinned even wider, his lips stretching thin and Castiel could see all of his teeth.
“When would you need to know this?” Even though Dean was surely just being kind, it soothed a bit of Castiel’s embarrassment.
“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean mused. “What if there’s a zombie apocalypse and we gotta start hunting rabbits for food?”
Cas stared at him, squinting his eyes and tilting his head slightly to the side. Was Dean being serious? Castiel often found it difficult to tell when people used humor or sarcasm. He had tried a couple of times to incorporate both humor and sarcasm into his interactions and conversations with friends. But that usually didn’t go very well. However, Dean had laughed at his joke about the lunar cycle the last time they spoke. In fact, they had laughed so much that day, Castiel had worn a smile the whole walk back to his house.
After a moment, a smirk lifted up the corner of Dean’s lips before he began to laugh in earnest. Dean had a way of laughing with his whole body, his shoulders shaking, his eyes scrunching up. Castiel’s worries eased. Dean’s smile was so friendly, so open, that there was no mistaking that he was laughing with Castiel and not at him. He sometimes found it difficult to distinguish between the two. But not with Dean. Castiel felt his own laughter bubble up in his chest and soon he was giggling alongside Dean.
The tension behind Castiel’s chest gradually lessened as they fell into a comfortable rhythm. Dean poked and prodded at the fence surrounding the raised garden beds. Castiel was unsure of what information, if any, Dean was gleaning from such an examination. Yet he kept silent as Dean studiously worked.
“I think the main problem is that with the chicken wire you have now they can just kinda squeeze under. And through any gaps,” Dean concluded. “I don’t know if they are necessarily chewing through so much as they are just persistent little fuckers.”
“So then what would you recommend?”
“I’m thinking that we should build a more stable barrier around this area,” Dean pointed around them in an approximation of the perimeter of Castiel’s garden. “I can build you a wooden fence no problem.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ve built a fence before. Shouldn’t be too hard,” Dean said. “You’ll just have to decide on the style and how high you want it.”
“That would be excellent.” Castiel was already building a picture in his mind.
Dean nodded, “I was looking up some stuff online last night and it said you should dig down and create a barrier underground as well, to prevent gophers and other critters that dig from getting in. So, I'll dig a little trench around the border of your garden area to create the foundation for the fence. Maybe put a thin metal sheet around it too so they can't chew or dig through, I don’t know.”
They spoke a bit more about the details of the project. Dean took some measurements and pictures with the camera function of his mobile phone. He said that he’d have to do some research before he could give Castiel a timeline for completion. Castiel insisted on paying Dean for his labor, which for some reason, Dean argued with him about. Dean tried to say that Castiel just needed to pay for the materials, which was absolutely ludicrous. After a bit of back and forth, Dean begrudgingly agreed to be paid for his efforts.
All too soon, it was time for Dean to leave. They had inched their way back to his car during their conversation. Castiel had been so caught up that he didn’t realize they had moved until they were standing right beside Dean’s car. Castiel felt his heart sink a little in his chest. He didn’t want Dean to leave, not yet. Not when they had been talking and laughing and Dean had been treating him like he was interesting and funny. But he didn’t know what to do or say to keep the conversation going. They had finished their business. Castiel had no compelling reason for Dean to stay other than he wanted him too.
Castiel stood in front of Dean like a statue, unable to articulate the thoughts spiraling through his head.
“Oh yeah,” Dean said. “I almost forgot.” Dean turned around and opened the car door. He bent over and reached across the back seat to rummage through a plastic bag. Castiel definitely, absolutely, certainly was not staring at Dean’s rear end as he bent over. Despite looking away, Castiel felt his cheeks grow warm and his tail twitched against his leg.
After a moment, Dean emerged from the car with something in his hand. He offered it up to Castiel.
“Here ya go!” Dean said with a bright smile. He handed Castiel a small, thin plastic box.
“What is this?” Castiel asked.
“It’s Wallace and Gromit,” Dean answered. He brought his hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed back and forth. “I, uh, rented it from the movie store in town for you. So you could watch it. I thought you might like it.”
“Oh,” Castiel felt a wave of endearment swell within his chest. He looked down at the DVD to get some space from Dean’s eyes. Dean could have meant this as just a gift between friends. But a part of Castiel, the part that wanted Dean to be attracted to him, hoped for more. The fact that Dean had gone to the video store to rent this for him, just because they had talked about it and Dean thought that he’d like it… Was Castiel naive in thinking that this was a romantic gesture?
Castiel examined the DVD closely to stall for time while he attempted to calm his wildly beating heart. Dean had explained before that it was a children’s movie and it appeared to be animated. Two characters, a man with no hair and a bipedal dog, were standing with nets and tools in front of a menacing rabbit-shaped shadow.
“Thank you, Dean,” he said softly, tenderly. He looked back up at Dean’s smile. Castiel felt a shy smile of his own form on his lips. “But, I don’t have a television.”
Dean looked shocked, his eyes opened wide as he asked, “You don't have a TV? What do you do then?”
“I…garden?” Castiel tilted his head a bit and he felt his tail try to break free of its confines again. Was not having a TV so strange? “I also read quite a lot.”
“Oh,” Dean looked at the ground. “Well sorry, uh… Never mind then.” He reached out his hand to take the DVD back from Castiel.
“It’s not that I'm not interested,” Castiel quickly assuaged Dean. He felt guilty for making it seem like he was rejecting Dean’s gift. “I just don't have a way to watch it.”
“Well,” Dean’s hand was back at the base of his neck. “The place I’m staying at has a TV. You could always come over and we could watch it there. Together.”
Castiel didn’t think it was possible for his heart to beat any faster, but apparently he was wrong. His pulse hammered in his chest and he could feel it ringing in his ears. His tail twitched against his leg. Dean was asking him over. He wanted to spend even more time with Castiel. He could spend more time with Dean, without the pretext of fixing his fence. He didn’t have to wait until next week for Dean to come back.
“I could come right now. I am completely available,” Castiel blurted out before he could think better of it. Oh no, did he sound too eager? Surely Dean meant a different day?
But Dean just smiled as he always did, chuckling under his breath at some joke Castiel didn’t know. His whole face moved when he smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled.
“Nice, I'm free too. Got nothin’ else goin’ on today. Why don’t you come on over and I can make lunch for us too?”
“That would be wonderful,” Castiel said. “I have been thinking about the sandwiches you made last time all week.”
“Really?” Dean said. “They were nothin’ special, Cas. Just turkey club sandwiches.”
“I had never had that type of sandwich before, so to me it was very special.”
“Oh,” Dean looked away shyly. “That’s, uh, good then. I got all the stuff for ‘em, so I could make them again? Or I could make something different if you want?”
“I am fine with whatever you deem fit,” Castiel said.
“Great,” Dean said. “Well, hop on in. I’ll drive us over.” Dean gestured toward his car.
Castiel climbed into the passenger seat of the car while Dean walked around to the other side. He rarely ever sat in cars and usually not in the passenger seat. The car that he’d been in the most often was Sam’s large Toyota Landcruiser. As he looked around the interior of the car he was struck by how different it was from Sam’s. The seat was one long bench instead of the individual seats he’d sat in previously. The dashboard looked completely different, the dials all analog instead of digital. The steering wheel was large and round, with a thin rim and a prominent emblem in the center. In the center of the dashboard was the radio, with large knobs and buttons.
“What kind of car is this?” Castiel asked curiously.
Dean slammed his own door shut and turned to Castiel with a smile unlike any he’d ever seen. Dean was positively beaming, his eyes sparkling and his grin childlike.
“This beauty right here,” Dean reverently moved his hand over the dashboard like he was caressing a work of art. “She’s a 1967 Chevrolet Impala.”
“She?” Castiel was unaware if all cars had specific genders assigned to them or if it was just something that Dean did.
“Yeah, of course Baby’s a she,” Dean explained, turning the key. “She is a fine, classy lady.” The engine roared to life and Castiel startled a bit at the noise. Dean’s car was certainly much louder than Sam’s.
Dean chuckled beside him, “You hear that? That’s the power of one hundred and ninety five horses trapped in a V8 engine all ready and rarin’ to go.” Dean slapped his hand against the dashboard.
“There are…horses in your car?” Dean certainly did not mean literal horses. But Castiel couldn’t for the life of him figure out if Dean was joking or if it was a metaphor.
Dean threw his head back in laughter as he pulled away from Castiel’s house and began driving down the street, talking the whole way about his behemoth of a car.
***
Castiel was very happy right now. Dean had prepared another fantastic sandwich for him, something called a BLT. It was juicy and crunchy and absolutely delicious. Castiel was not very skilled in the culinary arts. Most of his sandwiches were of the peanut butter and jelly variety. While satisfying in its own way, it simply did not compare. For dinner, Castiel usually just reheated frozen food. He knew that it was unhealthy. But he and the kitchen just did not get along. He hadn’t attempted anything more skilled than peanut butter and jelly since the time he set his kitchen on fire while trying to boil water for pasta. That was an embarrassment that Gabriel will probably never let him forget.
After Dean had crafted the BLTs, they sat side by side on the brown leather couch to watch the movie. Although Castiel agreed with Dean’s assertion that the film was meant for children, Castiel still found himself entranced. He was fascinated by the style of the animation. Dean had to explain the concept and practice of stop motion animation to him. Castiel was amazed that something so detailed and dynamic could be made from puppets and models being photographed over and over. It was truly remarkable.
Dean was very passionate when he explained how the film was made. He had even paused the film to pull up some information on his laptop computer to better illustrate his point. Dean showed Castiel a short video clip that explained how the process worked in great detail. Castiel was surprised to learn that this method of filmmaking had existed for so long, almost as long as films themselves had existed. When he told Dean as much, Dean smiled and suggested several other stop motion animation films that he thought Castiel might be interested in.
That was one thing Castiel really liked about Dean. Because Castiel grew up on a reservation and because of the time he spent in Purgatory, there were many things that were unfamiliar to him. It was one of the reasons he read so many books. With books, he could travel anywhere in the world, or even to other worlds or galaxies in the far reaches of space. He could learn about history, art, science, and poetry. All through the magic of words printed on a page.
Yet, no matter how much he read, there still seemed to be a vast amount of information that he did not know. Castiel concluded that this information must be gathered with experience. Experience he did not have.
This lack of experience and common knowledge often alienated him from others. People regularly used expressions or made references around him that Castiel did not understand. When he got confused, people brushed him off or acted as if it was too bothersome to explain. They moved the conversation forward while Castiel was left behind, struggling to catch up.
But Dean didn’t do that. He gave lengthy and detailed explanations to every reference he made and every question Castiel asked. Dean took him seriously. He sometimes looked surprised when Castiel asked something, but he never acted like it was too annoying or too obvious to explain. It made affection and joy bloom in Castiel’s chest every time Dean paused the film to clarify a reference that had gone over Castiel’s head.
The movie ended all too soon and Castiel didn’t want to leave just yet. He enjoyed spending time with Dean so much. But he had taken up too much of his time. Surely Dean had other plans for the day. The polite thing to do was to offer to leave so that Dean wouldn’t have to ask him to go.
“I guess I should go back home now,” Castiel said. He had learned through previous social interactions that this was an acceptable way to conclude a visit. “You probably have things you need to do today.”
“Eh, not really,” Dean said, throwing his head back on the couch. The long column of Dean’s throat stretched out and Castiel couldn’t look away. “I mean, I was gonna go bother Claire at her bootcamp thing. But it already started.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Castiel felt a surge of guilt. “I didn't mean to make you miss it.”
“It’s cool, Cas,” Dean reassured him. “She doesn’t want me to go anyway. Too embarrassing. And I was havin’ fun with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you're a fun guy.”
“No I’m not.” Castiel said with sincerity.
“What?” Dean looked back over at him. “What do you mean? I like hangin’ out with you.”
“Dean,” Castiel turned his body to face him properly and looked into Dean’s confused eyes. “I believe you when you say you enjoy my company. I enjoy yours as well. But I am definitely not ‘fun’.” As he talked, Castiel raised his hands and made air quotations with his fingers around the word “fun” to emphasize his point. “I am well aware that my social skills are lacking. I find it difficult to carry on conversations and to relate to others, which makes me and everyone feel uncomfortable.”
Dean stared at him for a moment, his eyebrows pinched together in thought. Castiel could not tell what he was thinking.
“Well I disagree but…whatever.” Dean had a strange look on his face and Castiel couldn’t figure out if he had done something wrong or not. Before he could say anything, Dean slapped his legs and stood up.
“Well, if you need to go, that’s fine. Lemme drive you back though.”
“That is not necessary, Dean,” Castiel stood up as well. “I am perfectly capable of walking.”
“No, I insist,” Dean said.
“Well, alright then,” Castiel bit his bottom lip and looked down. He didn’t want to make Dean go out of his way. But, he also desperately wanted to spend a few more minutes in Dean’s presence.
Castiel followed Dean outside and back into his car. Dean drove him back to his home in silence, a sharp contrast to the laughter and banter they had shared on the way over. Castiel felt guiltier and guiltier for whatever he had done to put Dean in such a strange mood.
When they pulled up to Castiel’s house a few minutes later, the awkwardness had become unbearable. He tried to think of something to say before he got out, but couldn’t form any words. Castiel felt a sense of loss for the easy companionship they had shared up until now.
“Hey Cas?” Dean’s voice broke the strange silence between them.
“Yes?” Castiel was desperate to dissolve this feeling between them before he left.
Castiel looked into Dean’s bright green eyes as he continued, “I meant what I said, Cas. I like hanging out with you. I had a really good time today.”
Castiel felt his cheeks grow warm and his tail made a valiant effort to break free, but his eyes didn’t stray away from Dean’s. He softly breathed out, “Me too.”
“So I was thinking, maybe, we could do it again? We could rent some movies to watch together.”
“Really?”
Dean’s eyes shrunk into slits as the corners crinkled with his smile. “Yeah. You could pick out some that you're interested in and I can show you some of my favorites.”
Castiel hadn’t even realized that he was smiling again until he felt his lips curl up and his cheeks grow tight. “I’d really like that, Dean. Are you free next week?”
“Dude, I’m free everyday. I’m unemployed right now.”
“Oh,” Castiel said quietly, smile dropping a little. But somehow, Dean found that funny, chuckling a bit to himself.
“How about next Thursday?” Dean offered. “We can watch a movie after we work on your fence?
“That would be excellent,” Castiel accepted, warmth and happiness filling his core.
Castiel stood at the head of the path as he watched Dean drive away in his car until he could no longer hear the roar of its engine. As Castiel walked back toward his house, his heart was bursting with excitement. He couldn’t wait for next week. When he was with Dean, Castiel felt more like a person and less like a freak than with anyone else he’d ever met.
Chapter 6
Notes:
Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay. This month has been really stressful at work, and then I got a pretty bad cold. But it was also my birthday, and I got to go on a nice trip with my brother and my friends <3
Anyway, here it is! Chapter six! For some reason, my brain had to write chapters six and seven simultaneously, so that one should be out pretty soon as well. Let me know what you think, and please enjoy!
Chapter Text
It had been almost a month since Dean and Claire moved to Eden Falls, and overall, it was better than Dean expected.
He and Sam hadn’t figured everything out yet, but they were working on it. They’d been hanging out and talking, rebuilding their relationship piece by piece. Dean and Claire went over to Sam’s place for dinner with him and Eileen a couple of times. Sam had also hosted a backyard barbeque where Dean met some new people, like Benny and Garth. They seemed like pretty cool guys. Dean had seen Benny working the grill at The Roadhouse the couple of times he’d been in there. He cooked a mean burger, which Dean could appreciate. Garth had offered to take a look at Dean’s teeth completely unprompted, which threw Dean for a loop until he realized that Garth was the town dentist.
There were still a couple of elephants wandering around between him and Sam. They hadn’t talked any more about Dad, although Dean could tell it was still bothering Sam. There were times when he would get quiet while they were in the middle of something. And there were days he just wouldn’t answer Dean’s texts only to apologize the next day. But that was fine. Dean had three years to cope with the loss. Sam only just found out a few weeks ago.
When he wasn’t moping about, Sam was trying to convince Dean to participate in the training sessions with him. Dean went to watch Claire at hers a couple times before he finally got tired of her complaining and let her go on her own. From what he’d seen, he was pretty confident it was safe. All they did was run laps and play around on the monkey bars and shit. Sam insisted that if he came to the one for adults, the one he participated in, that Dean would be able to learn to “control his talent.” Sam seemed to be under the impression that Dean didn’t know how to use his powers and Dean was not about to correct him. But every time Sam brought it up, Dean shot it down without hesitation. Dean knew about his powers. He knew what he could do. He had no desire whatsoever to “explore his talent and bring out his true potential.” No thanks.
Although, Dean had half a mind to give a try just because he still had no freakin’ clue what Sam's talent was. It was driving him crazy. But there was never a good time to bring it up. Dean didn’t want to start an argument. Even he could see through his own hypocrisy to know that it would be a shitstorm to demand to know what Sam’s power was while he was lying about his own. He thought about asking about it casually a few times, but he always chickened out. Things were going well with Sam and he didn’t want to jinx it. So maybe, one day, he’d come “observe” so that he could finally figure it out.
Claire was settling in as well. School was good and the training was good. She came home tired but excited to brag about how much better she was getting at controlling her powers. She even managed to light a few candles without catching fire to the curtains like she did the last time she tried that.
Claire also spent a lot of time with her new friends. She spent most of her time with Kaia, Alex, Patience and a kid named Kevin who Dean had seen working the checkout at the grocery store a couple of times. They all seemed like good kids and Dean tried to stay out of her business. As much as Dean was a parental figure to Claire, he wasn’t really her father. And Dean knew from his own tumultuous teenage years that the best way to get a teen to keep secrets from you was to try and pry into their business. Which was why when Dean had caught Claire texting Kaia at all hours of the day, he didn’t say anything. She never explicitly said that she and that Kaia girl were dating, but Dean had his suspicions that it was going in that direction. He knew that if he kept his distance, supported her when she needed it, she’d tell him eventually. Dean wasn’t afraid to admit he missed her a little bit. They did spend all their time around each other before. But he was glad she was making friends.
Dean was making friends too. He and Cas had been getting together and watching movies a couple times a week after Dean finished working on his fence for the day. It was a lot of work, but nothin’ he couldn’t handle. He had rebuilt Lisa’s back fence for her while they were dating, so he took what he’d learned from that time and put it to use. It was coming together pretty nicely, if he did say so himself.
Dean really enjoyed hanging out with Cas. Despite what Cas may think of himself, Dean thought he was very funny. While Dean was picking classic movies for them to watch, things like Star Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark, Cas chose stuff like Planet Earth. Dean didn’t mind though, he’d watch anything.
Besides, the most fun thing to watch was Cas anyway. His reactions were amazing. Everything was so new to him. He wasn’t burdened with the knowledge of spoilers or cliches. Dean found himself looking Cas’ way during every significant plot point or line of famous dialogue just to see how his face scrunched up or how the smile stretched out his face. He couldn’t help but double over in laughter at Cas’ shocked reaction when he found out that Darth Vader was Luke’s father. He’d dropped the bowl of popcorn that had been sitting in his lap and couldn’t stop giggling even as they cleaned up the mess.
To be honest, it was kinda nice having someone to just hang out with. Dean hadn’t really hung out with anyone in a long time, so long he couldn’t even remember. He’d had friends when he was working at the garage and Lisa had introduced him to a lot of her friends. But that was a few years ago now. Since then, Dean hadn’t spent time with anyone besides Claire outside of his work. And spending time with clients was always different. Whether it was just sex or they took him out on dates, it was still work. The expectation was always there. Dean had to smile and flirt if they wanted him to, play hard to get if they wanted him to. Say yes or no if they wanted him to. Go along with whatever they wanted him to do.
Obviously it wasn’t like that with Cas. Sure, Dean found himself daydreaming about running his hands through that thick head of dark hair on more than one occasion. He fantasized about how that semi-permanent five o'clock shadow would feel against his own chin or scraping against his thighs.
Dean suspected that Cas had never dated anyone before and was probably a virgin. Cas didn’t seem to realize that even though he was blue, he was still a smokin’ hot man. His hair looked like it was permanently tousled, his jawline could cut granite and Dean suspected that he was a lot stronger than he looked. Like a lot. One time, he handed Cas a bottle of beer and Cas had just ripped the cap off like it was nothing before Dean could even hand him a bottle opener. And don’t even get Dean started on that deep voice that sounded like it was straight out of the bedroom all the time. Yeah… Dean had to keep things friendly between them. He would be totally doomed otherwise.
Still, Dean couldn’t help himself sometimes. He wasn’t a monk after all. Whenever Dean’s comments crossed the line into light flirting, Cas got flustered or blushed that beautiful dark purple color. But he didn't make any obvious moves to reciprocate. So, Dean kept things pretty PG, a flirty comment here or there or just a light brush of the arm. If anyone knew the importance of consent, it was Dean. But, idle fantasies notwithstanding, he was glad he and Cas were just hanging out as friends.
Dean was finishing up his work for the day. Over the last two weeks Dean had set the posts in concrete and finished digging the trench around the perimeter of the garden. Today, he finally finished attaching the rails and fencing that stretched between the posts. He pulled off his gloves and brushed away the excess dirt before shoving them in the pocket of his jeans. It was all finally coming together. He was even planning to install a nice little gate right in the center so that it lined up with the path. Once it was done, Cas wouldn’t have any more problems with pesky ‘wabbits.
He heard the door to Cas’ house open and close behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see Cas coming outside with some glasses of lemonade. Cas had become really obsessed with the stuff ever since he had it the first time they hung out. Cas had taken to bringing him glasses of ice cold lemonade throughout the day while Dean was working on his fence. He had told Cas it wasn’t necessary, Dean had a water bottle, but it made Cas happy so Dean didn’t push too hard.
“Thanks man,” Dean took the cup from Cas’ outstretched hand and took a long sip. Man, there was nothing better than ice cold lemonade on a hot summer's day.
“You are welcome, Dean,” Cas said with a smile as he sipped from his own cup. He looked around the garden with a smile. “I see you made a lot of progress today, It looks wonderful.”
“Yeah, not too shabby,” Dean grinned. He was pretty proud of it himself. It’s not like Cas’ garden was small. There were a whole lotta plants and vegetables that Dean had to work around and fence in. Dean downed the rest of his lemonade and bent over to start picking up the tools he’d left strewn about.
“So,” Dean began. “What’re you in the mood to watch today? Pick out another bee documentary for us?”
Cas tilted his head to the side like he did when he was confused or when he was thinking very hard. “I thought it was your turn to choose?”
“What? No, dude, it’s your turn.”
“No. Last time, you said that you were going to make me watch that movie about orange juice?” He squinted a little as he thought. “What was it called? Pulp…something. Wait why are you laughing?”
Dean was bent over clutching his stomach, trying not to piss his pants in laughter. When he looked back at Cas’ confused face, it made him laugh even harder. He tried to explain that Pulp Fiction had nothing to do with juice in between desperate bouts of giggles, but Dean didn’t think he really got it.
“Sorry man,” Dean took in a shaky breath to try and calm himself. “I totally forgot. I didn’t rent it from the store.” The internet in this place was pretty hit or miss, so Dean mostly relied on renting movies from the video store in town, The Reel Deal. They had a pretty wide selection, and the guy behind the counter, Ash, had great taste in movies. And in mullets.
“That is alright Dean. I’m sure we can find something else to watch from the selection in the cabin,” Castiel replied.
“Yeah, good idea,” Dean agreed. The cabin had some DVDs stocked on the shelf when they arrived. Dean had almost cried when he saw a box set of Dr. Sexy seasons one and two on the shelf sandwiched between Aladdin and Men In Black 2. “Or…”
Cas looked at him, puzzled. His expression was so open, so intrigued, so goddamn adorable that it made Dean’s heart do that weird stutter in his chest.
“Or we could do somethin’ different? We don’t always have to just watch movies.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” Dean trailed off. He looked around and his eyes settled on Baby, parked on the road in front of Cas’ house. It was such a nice day. The sky was blue and the grass was green and all that. It was the kind of nice day that made Dean want to go for a drive, roll down all the windows and stick his feet out.
“Why don’t we go for a drive?” he offered.
“A…drive?”
“Yeah,” Dean said excitedly. “I know a great spot we can go. You’ll like it, it’s got a great view.”
“I don’t know…” Cas trailed off. His eyes darted around, avoiding eye contact with Dean. He was clearly uncomfortable, and his fidgeting betrayed his uncertainty.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he shook his head, although he didn’t look Dean in the eye. “It’s just…I can’t leave town, Dean. I can’t… be seen.”
Shit. How could Dean have forgotten that? Dean had just gotten used to Cas looking like an Andorian. He didn’t even really think about it that much. Well, he did think about Cas’ appearance quite a lot. But mostly to wonder if his eyes were that blue naturally or if it was part of his mutation.
“Hey hey,” Dean said gently. “Don’t worry about any of that. The drive is up that mountain road out of town. No one drives up that, so there’d be no one around. It’d just be the two of us. But if you'd rather just stay inside, that’s totally fine. We can do that. Really, I just suggested it cuz it’s nice out and I wanna do somethin’ fun with you.”
Cas stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. Dean was just about to tell him to forget the whole thing when he took a deep breath and looked up with a determined expression.
“As long as I can wear my hat and hood, I think…I would like to go on a drive with you,” he declared, although his voice was a little shaky.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, Cas. It was just an idea.”
“Yes,” Cas said with a hesitant smile. “I’m certain.” Dean smiled, wide and open as he waited by the car for Cas to get changed.
***
Dean’s beast of a car sped its way up the winding mountain roads, passing by towering pines and serene views. Castiel took it all in, marveling at the beauty of nature and filling his lungs full of the fresh mountain air streaming through the open windows. Castiel couldn't help but smile. He was having an amazing time.
He glanced over at Dean in the driver's seat, his arm resting on the rolled-down window and his other hand planted firmly on the steering wheel. He was smiling and singing loudly along to the cassette tape blaring over the speakers. Castiel was unfamiliar with the work of Mr. Led Zeppelin, and was not particularly fond of what he had heard of his discography so far. But he quickly found that he loved hearing Dean sing along. His soulful and powerful voice rang out through the enclosed space of the car, filling Castiel with affection and fondness.
“You doin’ okay, Cas?” Dean’s voice was drowned out by the loud volume of the music.
“Pardon?”
Dean reached across the dashboard and turned the volume knob down to a more tolerable level.
“I said, how’re you doin’? I can stop singing or we can listen to something else if you want?”
“No, Dean, it's fine,” he smiled. “I enjoy listening to you sing. You have a lovely voice.”
“Oh, uh…thanks,” Dean turned away to focus on the road. Castiel had learned by now that Dean always got a bit flustered by his compliments.
“I am having a wonderful time, Dean,” Castiel continued. Dean needed to know just how thankful Castiel was that he had suggested this adventure. “I have never gone for a drive just for the sake of enjoyment before, so I didn’t know what to expect. But, I am enjoying the views and I am enjoying spending time in your company.”
“Well, great, that's... Yeah that's good as long as you’re havin’ a good time.”
Dean didn’t turn the volume back up, but Castiel didn’t mind the companionable silence. He looked back out the window at the mountains. He felt a sense of peace and contentment. Castiel was grateful to be sharing this new experience with Dean. As the car continued to climb, the mountains grew taller and more majestic, and Castiel felt like he was on top of the world.
Eventually, Dean pulled off to the side of the road and stopped on a patch of unpaved dirt. It was a tiny clearing, barely large enough to fit a couple of cars, with a breathtaking view. The valley below spread out like a patchwork quilt, with farms, forests, and winding rivers. In the distance, mountain peaks rose up into the sky, dusted with the last remnants of snow.
Castiel followed Dean out of the car and settled next to him against the hood to admire the scenery. He sat close enough that their arms brushed against each other and Castiel felt lightning burst under his skin every time they touched. He shifted and tensed, but made no move to get further away from Dean. Dean didn’t make any move to separate either.
Dean inhaled a deep breath and let it all out through his mouth with a satisfied ‘ah.’ Castiel followed his lead and inhaled the delicious scent of warm pine on a bright summer’s day.
“This is quite serene,” Castiel remarked. He turned to Dean who was smiling wide at the scenery. “How did you find out about this place?”
“I go for drives a lot to clear my head, think about things,” Dean answered, his gaze never straying from the wide open expanse of nature around them. “But Sam actually brought me up here the first time. And I, uh…thought you’d like it.”
“I do like it,” Castiel said, turning his eyes back to the stunning landscape. “It is very beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“No problem, Cas,” Dean responded. “Any time.”
They lapsed into silence for a moment. Dean brought him here because he thought Castiel would like it. Dean wanted to show him beautiful things and spend time with him and that made Castiel’s heart feel happy and full.
By the time they decided to head back down the mountain, it was approaching the evening. The summer sun was sinking lower and lower as they descended in elevation. As they grew closer to town, Castiel's stomach let out a loud dissatisfied rumble. Castiel flushed with embarrassment as Dean laughed.
“You hungry Cas?”
“No,” he denied out of pure spite, which only made Dean chuckle again.
“You sure about that? I’m pretty sure I heard your stomach say ‘feed me’ just now.”
Castiel scowled and tried to think of a response. However, in perfect cosmic retribution, Dean’s stomach growled long and low. Castiel burst out laughing, feeling completely vindicated. Dean looked embarrassed for a moment before he, too, began to laugh at the absurdity of the timing.
It took a long time before they calmed down enough to speak without wheezing and gasping.
“Do you wanna grab some dinner? I don’t have much back at my place right now. I gotta go to the store tomorrow. So, we could go out? Stop in the diner if you want?”
“No!” Castiel said too loudly, making Dean glance at him sideways. “I mean…I am enjoying our time together and I would love to eat dinner with you. It’s just…I don’t go out. To eat. At The Roadhouse or anywhere else really.”
“Really?” Dean turned to look at him with a quizzical expression. “Why not?”
“I…” Castiel paused, searching for the right words. “I only go to The Roadhouse for special occasions and events. Normally, I just stay in.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn't realize you were tryin’ to save money. You shoulda told me! See, this is why I said you didn't need to pay me for the fence.”
“That is a completely separate issue Dean,” Castiel stressed. “We have already settled this matter. You are doing a difficult job for me and as such must be properly compensated for your time and labor. Besides that, money is not an issue for me. I have very few expenses and I earn enough for everything I need from my jobs.”
“O-kay,” Dean drew out the syllables. “Then, why don’t you go out?”
“Are you being purposefully obtuse?”
“What?” Dean sounded completely offended.
“Dean,” Castiel said. “You must have noticed that not only are my social skills not optimal but my appearance is quite far from normal. To avoid any uncomfortable situations, for me and for others, I mainly keep to myself.”
“So, what, are you saying that you never go out? That you don’t go into town or out to eat or anything?”
“I go to large events that the town hosts, like the Summer Funfest on Saturday. I occasionally go into Gabriel’s bakery when my coffee maker malfunctions. I occasionally attend small gatherings with my friends. But other than that, no. I don’t go out or socialize."
“Why not?” Dean looked flabbergasted and Castiel grew irritated at Dean’s obliviousness. His jaw clenched and his lips pressed together into a thin line.
“Because although I may look like a monster does not mean I enjoy being stared at like one,” Castiel snapped, his hands curled into fists in his lap. “Nor does it mean I appreciate how people act differently around me, whether it be out of fear, disgust or discomfort. I’d rather keep to myself and than be treated like a freak.”
“You’re not a freak Cas! You’re–” Dean started but Castiel interrupted.
“I know that I am not but that does not stop others from treating me as such!” He spat out.
Dean cut off his retort by biting his lower lip. It was a habit that Dean seemed to have and which made Castiel pay an inordinate amount of attention to his mouth.
The silence between them grew heavy and drawn out. Castiel tried to control the torrent of emotions that had heaved up against his throat and threatened to spill out. It was always hard for him to talk about this without getting emotional. He took deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He felt bad for snapping at Dean. But he just didn’t understand. None of his friends understood. They may all be mutants, just like Castiel, but no one understood what it felt like to look like a mutant. To look like a freak. They all looked normal. Nobody could tell they were a mutant just by looking at them. Nobody would scream in fright or sneer in disgust at their appearance. Nobody would try to experiment on them to fix their appearance. Their parents didn’t abandon them the day they were born because of the way they looked.
“I’m sorry for pushin’ Cas. I guess…” Dean’s body was still tense. His shoulders were taut and both his hands were gripping the steering wheel as if he were about to yank it out of the dashboard. He glanced at Castiel from the corner of his eye. “I just thought that in a town full of other mutants, that kind of thing wouldn’t be a problem. Like, you could go anywhere and not worry about being gawked at. Or treated differently. But I guess not.”
“No, it’s still…” Castiel stared at his hands that were clenched in his lap. He shifted in his seat, the pain of sitting on his confined tail a poignant reminder of just how different he was. “It’s better than it was on the reservation where I grew up. People there…said hurtful things and other children threw rocks at me. They wouldn’t let me eat with them and gave me the chores that no one else wanted. Nothing like that happens here. But people still stare. People still treat me differently. It still…I still feel uncomfortable.”
Dean was quiet for a moment. In the silence all Castiel could focus on were his knuckles, curved so tightly around the wheel.
“That really sucks Cas,” Dean said softly, like he was reading aloud from a book right before bed. “That sounds…That sounds like it was really hard. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that. You’re really strong to put up with all that bullshit for your whole life.”
Castiel had not been expecting that response. He looked over at Dean in shock. Dean had turned to glance Castiel’s way with a serious expression for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.
Whenever Castiel had confided in his friends about similar feelings, the responses had been…different. Kelly always quickly jumped to reassure him that he wasn’t a “monster,” that he was exceptional and perfect just the way he was. Gabriel always said that he should just tell everyone who looked at him funny to fuck off. Charlie and Sam always insisted that people just weren’t used to him because he didn’t go out and interact with the community very much and that if he joined in a bit more, he wouldn’t feel that way. Castiel felt like a bad person for not appreciating their words of comfort and their efforts to provide a solution. He felt like he was being too sensitive and ungrateful for how lucky he was to be here in Eden Falls rather than locked in a cell in Purgatory.
But Dean thought that he was strong. He didn’t think that Castiel was too sensitive. He thought that the fact that people stared at him and treated him differently was “bullshit.” Why did that make him feel so…validated?
Castiel huffed out a small sigh. “Yes. It does indeed ‘suck.’”
They drove in silence for another few minutes. Castiel felt as if Dean had cast a spell on him that had made his heart feel so full.
“Well,” Dean broke the silence between them as they reached the town limits. “If you want, we could just get the food to go?”
“To go?”
“Like, we can just grab it and bring it back to my place? Or yours. Or I can just drop you off at home if you’d like?”
Castiel desperately wanted to extend their time together, and Dean’s suggestion sounded wonderful. The “best of both worlds.”
“I’d like that,” he smiled. Castiel didn’t mind being under Dean’s spell if it made him feel so happy.
***
A short while later, Dean pulled up and parked the car right outside The Roadhouse Diner. It was a large, one-story building with a weathered wooden exterior. The paint was peeling in some places, and the wood was starting to show its age. There was a large neon sign on the roof that said "THE ROADHOUSE" in warm yellow letters. The sign was old and rusty, but it was always lit up at night, welcoming hungry passers-by to stop in for a bite to eat.
“Do you want to wait in the car or do you want to come inside and order with me?” Dean asked.
Castiel looked through the windows of the restaurant. It was still quite early on a Tuesday night but without many other options to purchase food and alcohol in this small town, the diner was crowded. The bar was full and there were lots of people sitting at tables. Even if it made him look a bit foolish, he decided to take Dean up on his offer to wait in the car.
“I think I’ll wait here,” Castiel concluded. “You can just order for me.”
“What?” Dean balked. “Dude, no way. I’ll bring you a menu. Be right back.” Dean got out of the car and walked into the diner before he had a chance to respond.
Castiel’s heart was beating too fast. Why did such a simple gesture make him feel this way? People had done nice things for him before. Charlie had helped him set up his internet connection and electronic mail. Kelly had helped him pick out furniture for his home. Sam helped him during their training sessions. But none of them made him feel this way.
Castiel was startled by a knock against the window. Dean had tapped against the glass and now he was making a gesture with his hands indicating that Castiel should roll the window down. Castiel scrambled to locate the lever. Dean’s car was much older and therefore did not have automatic windows. He struggled with the lever mechanism for a few seconds before he finally figured it out. He rolled the window down all the way and apologized to Dean for keeping him waiting.
“No problem, Cas,” Dean said with a smile as he passed the large laminated menu through the open window. “Here ya go. Take your time, I already know what I’m gettin’.”
Castiel’s eyes scanned the rows and rows of items. He had forgotten how big their menu was. He narrowed his focus on the dinner section of the menu, but still found himself overwhelmed. Dean had told him to take his time, but how could Castiel possibly do that when Dean was standing next to the car and tapping on the edge of the open window? He glanced at Dean to see if he was annoyed at Castiel’s indecision and managed to catch his eye. But Dean didn’t look impatient or annoyed. He smiled at Castiel like the warm summer breeze that he had felt on top of the mountain earlier, refreshing and comforting. Castiel felt his face heat up and he looked back down at the menu in his hands to hide himself from Dean’s gaze.
“What’re ya thinkin’ Cas?” Dean asked him.
“I am unsure,” Castiel grumbled, still avoiding Dean’s eyes. “There are more options than I remember. What are you going to order?”
“Me? Same thing I always get at places like this," Castiel could see Dean shrug out of the corner of his eye.
“Which is?”
“Bacon cheeseburger. Extra pickles and sweet potato fries,” Castiel could hear the smile in his voice even though he was still fixated on the menu in front of him.
“Alright,” Castiel concluded. “I’ll try that too. Minus the pickles.”
“Wait, have you never had a cheeseburger before?”
Castiel finally looked back at Dean in order to roll his eyes at such a ridiculous question. “Of course I have, Dean. Gabriel and Sam barbeque them all the time. And I have been here before.”
Dean barked out a short laugh, “Oh yeah, duh. Sorry, that was a dumb question. I’m getting a milkshake too. You want anything to drink?”
“I will try a milkshake as well.”
“Cool, what flavor?”
“Um,” Castiel glanced at the options on the menu again. “Vanilla, please.”
“Sure thing,” Dean grabbed the menu Castiel offered and went back inside. He watched Dean from the open window as he strolled up to the counter and put in their order. Dean handed over some money for the bill and Castiel internally cursed himself. He had not brought his wallet, so Dean would have had to pay for him anyway. However, he felt inconsiderate for not thinking about the terms of payment and discussing it beforehand.
Castiel thought Dean would wait inside the restaurant, but to his surprise Dean came back out and settled next to the window again. They chatted while they waited for their food. Castiel laughed out loud at a story Dean told about Sam eating too many pancakes on his birthday one year and having to throw up in the women’s restroom of the restaurant because the men’s room was full.
A short while later, Jo came outside with a brown paper bag and two milkshakes in a drink carrier. Her eyes widened as she glanced between Dean and Castiel, unable to keep the surprise from her face. Castiel did not blame her. Even though he knew Jo from the training sessions they often attended, they were not very close. More like acquaintances instead of friends. It must have been surprising for her to see him elsewhere.
“Here you are. Two bacon cheeseburgers, one with extra pickles, two orders of sweet potato fries, one vanilla milkshake and one chocolate milkshake.” She handed the bag of food to Dean, who immediately passed it to Castiel through the open window. Jo paused for a second as she contemplated who to pass the drinks to, but ultimately gave the container to Dean who once again handed it to Castiel. Sam and Charlie would probably say that he was overthinking things, that Jo was handing the food to Dean because he was the one who paid for it. Yes, that made sense.
“Thanks,” Dean said, either ignoring or oblivious to the awkward exchange that just occurred. “Here ya go.” He took a couple bills out of his wallet and put them into Jo’s hand.
She looked between Dean and Castiel one more time. “Enjoy your food.” Jo turned around sharply and went back inside.
Dean got into the driver’s seat and started the car. Castiel took the food and drinks and put them on his lap to keep them safe and upright during the drive. He was quiet for a moment, a little put off by the interaction with Jo, before he remembered that Dean had just paid for him. They bickered over the money the whole drive back to Castiel’s house. Dean, once again, insisted that Castiel did not need to reimburse him.
Castiel was still grumbling about it as they walked through the front door.
“I told you,” Castiel reiterated for what felt like the millionth time. “I do not have any financial troubles.” He carefully removed his shoes with one hand while balancing the drink container in the other.
“Yeah yeah yeah, sure,” Dean followed him inside and haphazardly kicked his boots off. “I’m just sayin’ you don’t gotta pay me back Cas.”
“Of course I need to pay you back,” Castiel insisted. He put the drinks down on the table and Dean did the same with the bag of food. He went into the kitchen to get plates, napkins and cutlery.
“Well, if it’s that important to you then you can get the bill next time,” Dean called out from behind him.
Castiel paused, his hand clenched around the silverware he’d pulled from the drawer. Next time? Dean was suggesting that Castiel pay next time? So Dean is anticipating doing this again? With him? Why did that make him feel so happy?
He turned around and brought everything to the table and sat across from Dean, who had already unpacked the bag and started in on his burger. Castiel shoved a plate and a napkin at him.
They talked while they ate. Dean told some more embarrassing stories about Sam that made it hard for Castiel to eat without choking on his laughter. At one point, they both reached for the fries at the same time, causing their hands to brush against each other. Castiel’s heart rate shot up like a rocket hurtling towards space at just that small bit of contact. His hand felt warm where they had touched and the urge to reach out and grab Dean’s hand was so strong that Castiel had to forcefully shove it down. He looked back at Dean who was chewing absently on his fries, unaware of the effect he had on Castiel.
Dean reached over to the side to grab his drink. He raised the cup up toward his face and wrapped his lips around the straw. Castiel’s eyes were transfixed on Dean’s mouth as he sucked down his milkshake. Dean glanced up.
“See somethin’ you like Cas?” His eyes were locked onto Castiel’s as a satisfied smirk raised the corners of the mouth that Castiel just couldn't stop staring at.
“N-no,” His heart raced, this time in embarrassment. What should he say? Dean knew that he was staring. At him. At his mouth. He needed to come up with an excuse.
“I just…could I try some of your chocolate milkshake? I’ve never had that flavor before.” It wasn't a complete fabrication. Castiel had truly never had one before.
“Sure,” the smirk was still present on Dean’s face. “As long as I can have a sip of yours.”
Castiel knew from the warmth of his face that he was blushing a dark color. He exchanged drinks with Dean, his hands shaking as he took a sip from Dean’s chocolate milkshake. The first sip was a taste explosion, the rich chocolate flavor coating his tongue.
Castiel didn’t have much time to register this new experience because Dean was staring at him with an intense expression. Dean locked eyes with him as he brought Castiel’s vanilla milkshake closer to him. He didn’t break eye contact as a pink tongue darted out from his mouth and licked his lips until they were shiny and wet. He was still staring at Castiel as his lips opened up and the straw disappeared inside his mouth. Castiel watched Dean’s cheeks hollow out as he took a long sip from the drink. Castiel’s throat was as dry as sandpaper as he swallowed down the lump that had formed there.
“How’d you like it?” Dean’s voice sounded dark like the chocolate milkshake, deep and decadent.
“What?” Castiel choked out.
“The milkshake,” Dean clarified. “Do you like chocolate or vanilla better?” His smile was different from any that Castiel had seen on him before. It didn’t look satisfied, joyful, or teasing. It looked…ravenous.
“I think I like both flavors,” His own voice was deep and raw in a way he had never heard himself speak before.
“Yeah. I like both too,” Dean agreed as he took another long, slow sip from Castiel’s milkshake.
***
Somehow, word had gotten ‘round that Dean was a mechanic and that he was pretty handy. Bobby, an old guy who Dean never saw without a trucker cap on his head, hauled him into his shop and offered him a job. Turns out, Bobby was the only one in Eden Falls who knew the difference between a carburetor and fuel injection. But he was getting on in years and, in his words, “had no business crawlin’ around under cars no more.” Dean readily accepted the job.
It felt good to work with his hands again. Not that he wasn’t using his hands in his previous profession, but it felt good to fix a problem and help someone out. He was never the type to sit still or laze about. He started making a real salary for the first time in years. Dean had plenty of money stashed away, he’d learned early on to save most of what he earned. So, even though he had his savings, he didn’t want to dip into it too much. Exit strategies and all that.
In addition to working on Cas’ fence, he’d given Donna’s car an oil change and replaced the battery on a sweet 50’s Cadillac for an old guy named Rufus. Besides cars, people started coming into the shop asking him to take a look at other stuff as well. He had gone over to Jody’s house the other day to fix her garage door. Dean had met quite a few residents of Eden Falls so far just by fixing leaky faucets and replacing light fixtures.
Currently, he was inspecting the industrial oven in the bakery owned by that smug blonde asshole Gabriel. The oven wasn’t heating up and even though Dean didn’t know shit about ovens and had told Gabriel as much, he’d asked Dean to come take a look. Well, more like demanded Dean come take a look. Dean had brought over some tools from Bobby’s shop and got to work.
Dean had pushed the oven away from the wall (no thanks to Gabriel) and was tinkering with the wires and controls in the bowels of the beast. Gabriel stood to the side “supervising” like he had any freakin’ clue what he was doing.
“So,” Gabriel drawled. “How was your date with Cassie last night?”
Dean startled, jerking back so hard in surprise that he slammed his head on the corner of the open panel. He hissed, rubbing the sore spot to ease the pain. He glared daggers back at Gabriel’s smug expression.
“How could you possibly know about that?” Dean grumbled.
Gabriel stared down at him like a cat toying with a dead mouse it had just dragged inside the house. “Don’t underestimate the small town gossip network. Now spill.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Dean deflected. “We just went for a drive and got some food.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Gabriel looked about as convinced as a flat-earther at a rocket launch. “And are you planning to ask him out on another “not a date?’”
“What’s it to you anyway?” Dean shot back. Even if it had been a date, he obviously wasn’t going to tell this douchebag. “What we do or don't do is none of your business.”
“Cas is my friend,” Gabriel stated, suddenly serious. “It is my business. He’s been through a lot, and as his friend it’s my job to look out for him.”
“We've all been through a lot,” Dean muttered under his breath.
Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically. “Like a lot a lot. So this is the obligatory, “I’ll kill you if you break his heart” speech.”
“Jesus, we just went for a drive and ate some burgers. It's not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Gabriel reiterated. “That’s the most action he’s ever seen. Cas has never been in a relationship before, so if you're just trying to hit it and quit it...”
Dean’s scowl deepened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that if you're just in it to get another notch in your extremely long belt or you're looking for an easy mark, then you’d better think twice.”
Dean’s fist clenched around the screwdriver he was holding and he ground his teeth together in anger. He couldn’t take this asshole’s backhanded insults anymore. “What, so because I'm a sex worker I’m only interested in sex? Or money? I can’t possibly want a romantic relationship, is that it? All I’m good for is a quick fuck?”
“That’s not what I meant–”
“I know what you meant,” Dean snapped, cutting Gabriel off from whatever half-ass excuse he was about to give. “I’m the whore coming into town and taking advantage of people. Fuck you.” Dean started packing up his tools, shoving them roughly back into the toolbox without much care. He didn’t need to put up with this shit.
“Hey man,” Gabriel continued trying to backtrack. He raised his arms up and took a step back from Dean who had finished putting away the tools and stood up. “I’m just lookin’ out for my friend–”
“Yeah well, you can do that while fixing your own damn oven,” Dean growled. He pushed past Gabriel and stomped over to the front door. “Your stupid pilot light is out by the way.”
With that, he stormed out of the bakery and back down the street. As he thundered down the sidewalk and made his way back to the cabin, he couldn't help but think that that’s what everyone here thought of him. That he was a whore who was only interested in sex or money or drugs or whatever puritanical bullshit that “nice” people came up with.
Dean was certain that everyone in town knew what he did. They had to. There were so many people there when the cat had been let out of the bag that there was no way it hadn’t been spread around. Teenage girls and fully-grown adults who acted like teenagers were not very reliable when it came to not spreading gossip. Dean had tried not to think about it. Dean had been on the receiving end of a lot of judgment for his life choices over the years. In response, Dean just grew a thick skin and toughened up. Like he’d told Cas that one time, the only person whose opinion really mattered to Dean was Sam. But still, a part of him hurt and ached at the thought that everyone in town had been putting on a smile to his face while secretly spitting behind his back.
Dean hadn’t realized how much he’d been enjoying this place as a fresh start. Things had been going so well with Sam that he thought, for a moment, he might have been able to wipe clean the dirty, fucked-up slate that had become his life. Now he knew that that was just a pipe dream.
The worst thing, though, is what Gabriel had been implying about his relationship with Cas. That Dean was taking advantage of the poor, innocent little virgin and forcing him into unwanted sex. Dean would never, ever, do something like that. That was such fucking bullshit.
But, was it though? Dean stopped as an intense fear splashed over him like cold water. Had he been too pushy with Cas? Sure, he hadn’t really touched him, just brushed his arm a couple of times. Dean wouldn’t mind if someone did that to him, but that didn’t mean that Cas wanted that. That he was comfortable with that.
Dean had a naturally touchy and flirty personality, so he just did that sort of stuff normally, even with friends. Well, he wasn’t sure if he was naturally like this or if it was just a permanent side effect of his job. But what if this whole time he’d been making Cas uncomfortable? What if, instead of being shy, Cas was really just upset and miserable? Had he been pushing so much that Cas complained to his friend?
No, wait. Dean shook his head, pushing out the irrational fears that had suddenly taken over. If that were true, Cas wouldn’t have been so excited to come over and watch movies. He had told Dean multiple times that he liked spending time with him and that he looked forward to hanging out with him. If Dean had been too pushy, Cas wouldn’t have purposefully sat so close to him on the couch. He wouldn’t have gone on a drive with him. He wouldn’t have said he liked spending time with him and that he had a nice voice. Cas wouldn't have had dinner with him or shared his fries or stared at Dean's mouth like he wanted to drink from his lips instead of his milkshake. No, Dean had enough experience to know that Cas was definitely into him.
But that didn’t mean Gabriel’s fear that Dean was just trying to tap Cas’ ass was unfounded. What if Cas just thought that all Dean wanted was to bang him? And that after he got what he wanted he would move on to someone else and leave him high and dry? Did Cas think that that was all Dean was interested in? Or was it the opposite? Was that all Cas was interested in? Just someone disposable to lose his virginity to before he moved on?
The thoughts spiraled in his head like a hamster on a wheel, going nowhere fast. By the time he had arrived back to the cabin, he was in an even worse mood than before. He slunk into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge and popped it open. This whole thing was a total clusterfuck. He had definitely gotten too much in his own head.
In a moment of insecurity, he decided to shoot off a text to Cas claiming he wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to come over to work on the fence tomorrow. He typed it out quickly and fired it off before he could chicken out of chickening out. He needed some time, some space to think about all this. Hopefully another beer or two would help.
Chapter 7
Notes:
Hello! Thank you in advance for reading this chapter. It was actually a struggle to write for some reason. I had 75% of it done for so long. But my brain just didn't want to work on this. Instead, it insisted I write over 40 pages for a different fic, so yeah.
Anyway, please enjoy!
Chapter Text
Castiel wasn’t sure if he had stopped smiling since last night. Every time he thought about Dean, about the drive they went on, the meal they shared, the drink they shared, made his heart flutter and pulse excitedly in his chest. He barely slept because he was just so happy. It was truly amazing and the first time he had ever felt this way. The romance novels that Becky had recommended to him may have been more realistic than he’d previously thought.
Castiel was so engrossed in his thoughts about Dean that he was barely giving any thought to his actual work. Today, he had his regular shift at Enchanted Earth. Currently, he was unloading new product that had just been delivered the previous day and stacking it neatly on the storage shelves. It was one of his many tasks here, and although it wasn’t his favorite, he never complained.
Castiel would be forever grateful to Tasha for providing him with employment. It had been quite an adjustment for him when he first arrived in Eden falls. At the time, he had lacked many of the skills and knowledge needed to live and work independently. He had been certain that there would be no job he was suited for. Donna, Jody, and the other council members had racked their brains, trying to come up with something for him to do. The first few jobs he tried had been unsuccessful. Castiel still couldn't go into the Gas-N-Sip without feeling like he was covered in the sticky mixture that made up their slushies.
After a couple of failed trials, Donna had asked him if he knew anything about plants. When Castiel responded that, indeed he did, he had helped maintain a garden on the reservation in which he grew up, she connected him with Tasha. Tasha had become an amazing mentor for Castiel, and it was thanks to her that he was able to learn so much. Because of his job here, he was able to get his other job working for the town as well as purchase his home last year. He would be forever grateful to her for giving him the chance to build the life he now cherished.
Which is why he was so embarrassed when he dropped the bag of fertilizer he had been carrying because he was daydreaming about Dean. He scrambled to pick up the heavy bag, but it was too late. It had split along the sides and its contents spilled out across the ground.
“You alright Castiel?” Tasha called out to him from over to his left. Castiel looked up and saw Tasha looking at him with concern.
“Yes,” he replied with a guilty wince. “Sorry Tasha, I'm just…a little distracted today. I’ll get this cleaned up right away.”
“It’s alright, Cas. Accidents happen. Something on your mind?” She asked, curious.
“No, it's nothing,” Castiel shook his head to wave off her concern. It wouldn’t do to make her worried about him over something so inconsequential. “Sorry, I will remain focused and I will ensure that I complete all of my tasks in a timely manner.”
“No worries,” Tasha laughed lightly, throwing her head back. She always thought that Castiel’s formality was humorous, although he didn’t understand why. Even though they had known each other for quite some time, Castiel was still her employee. “I trust that you'll do your job properly. Unlike some people!” She shouted that last part and looked over her shoulder back at her son, Max, who had been working on organizing the shelves for the past ten minutes with no discernible progress.
“Hey!” Max yelled back. “I'm working hard over here!”
“Really? Cause it looks to me like you're slacking off. Those won’t fix themselves, you know!” Tasha wandered away to go hover over Max and make sure he was doing his job properly. Max and Alicia often helped out at the store, and today was no exception. Both siblings were here today, helping out with miscellaneous tasks.
Castiel sighed and tried to focus back on his work, but his mind eventually wandered back to his date with Dean. But was it a date though? Castiel was unsure. Every time he convinced himself that it was, he found more evidence to the contrary. On one hand, Dean had taken him to see a romantic view, bought him dinner, and made some…flirtatious moves. On the other hand, all of those things could be just something that close friends might do together. Well, except for the flirtations. But that seemed to be something that Dean did quite often, so it wasn’t definitive proof one way or the other.
Castiel came to the conclusion that he didn’t have enough experience and that he didn’t know enough about dating customs to decide one way or the other. It would be best to ask for some advice from his friends. Sam seemed like a good option, considering he was in a committed relationship. But he was Dean’s brother, so there might be some complications in asking Sam. He could ask Charlie. Although she was single now, Castiel knew that she had dated in the past. She was only interested in women, but surely there would be significant overlap and her advice would be applicable to his situation with Dean.
Kelly would be the best person to ask. He had talked to Kelly about Dean many times, to the point where she had begun to tease him about his “crush” on Dean.
Kelly was probably his closest friend in Eden Falls. They didn’t have much in common at first, but have bonded quite a lot over the years thanks to Kelly’s son Jack. Jack, like Castiel, had a physical mutation that made it quite obvious that he was a mutant. The eight-year-old had two large, protruding horns growing out of the top of his head.
When Jack was born, instead of shipping him off to a reservation, Kelly left her whole life behind, her family, her job, and even her boyfriend. She lived in hiding for three years before coming to the safety of Eden Falls to raise Jack. Castiel had become a large part of their lives and he was very grateful to be a sort of godfather to Jack. He was glad he could help Jack grow up without all the hardships and insecurities he faced because of his mutation.
On his way home from work he decided to visit Kelly and ask for her advice. It was almost evening, and he knew Kelly would be home from work by now. She worked in the town hall, doing administrative work for Eden Falls and the city council. It was a far cry from her previous job in Washington D.C., but Kelly never complained.
Castiel walked up to Kelly and Jack’s cozy home which was nestled among a row of other bungalows just a few streets off of Main. Their home was immediately recognizable not just for its warm yellow exterior but also for the amount of toys littered across the front lawn. Jack was the kind of child who never put away one toy before grabbing another to play with.
Castiel walked up the stone path to the front door and gave it a knock. Kelly opened the door only a few moments later.
“Hey, Cas. What’s up?” Kelly smiled cheerfully as she opened the door to greet him.
“Kelly, I need your advice,” Castiel stated.
“Wow, no hello? Must be serious,” she replied.
Castiel felt embarrassed by his disregard for proper etiquette. “I apologize. Good evening, Kelly. How are you? May I come in?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she laughed lightly. “I was just teasing, Cas. Come on in.” She opened the door wider and Castiel followed her inside. She guided him to sit on the sofa and she asked if he wanted anything to drink. Castiel declined so Kelly sat in the armchair across from him.
“So,” Kelly began. “What do you need my advice on?”
“I think I went on a date last night,” Castiel blurted out. He nervously picked at a hangnail on his right hand.
Kelly laughed again. “You think? You don't know?”
“I am unsure and so I would like your advice to determine if I am correct or if I am making assumptions based on emotion rather than facts.”
“Okay. So this date you went on, did it happen to be with Dean?” Kelly wondered.
“Yes.”
“Alright, tell me all about it.”
Cas recounted their day together to Kelly while she listened. He talked for almost twenty minutes. By the end, he was a bit winded.
“Well, it definitely could’ve been a date,” Kelly concluded. “But…”
“But?” he asked.
“I wasn't there, Cas,” she cautioned. “So I'm not sure. What made this different from when you two normally hang out?”
Cas thought for a moment before responding, picking at the skin on the sides of his nails. “We have never shared food like that before. Dean also paid for the dinner we ate and told me that I was responsible for paying next time, which according to many books and movies I have seen, is a popular custom when dating.”
“That could be done between close friends too,” Kelly countered.
“Yes,” Castiel admitted. That was true. “Although…”
“Although?” Kelly mimicked him.
“Although…” How did he put this ? “During the date, there were several instances of what I believe is called “sexual tension” between us.”
Kelly squeaked in delight, her hands coming together to clap in front of her chest. “Like what?”
“Dean made some…suggestive moves and comments while we were eating,” he responded without giving away too many details. It would be improper and embarrassing to share something so private and intimate. Just thinking about it made his face grow warm.
Kelly giggled. “Well, if you were feeling it, then he probably was too. It’s not like you to read into something like that when it's not there.” Castiel agreed. “But regardless, whether it was a date or not, do you want it to have been a date?”
“What do you mean?” Castiel asked.
“Like, do you want to date Dean?” Kelly clarified. “Do you want to be more than friends? Boyfriends? Partners?”
Castiel thought about it. In fact, it was all he could think about since last night. He liked Dean. He could admit that to himself. And it wasn’t just physical attraction. Of course, he liked the way Dean smiled. He liked his freckles and his soft, green eyes. He liked watching him work on the fence, where he would sometimes roll up his sleeves a little and Castiel could see his strong forearms. He liked the way Dean chewed and licked his lips. It made him want to know what they felt like, pressed against his own.
But it was more than that. He liked how Dean made him feel when they were together. Like he was important. Dean truly cared about his opinion. Dean always wanted to know what he thought and what he liked. When they watched movies together, Dean let him pick the movies half the time. Even though Castiel knew that Dean wasn’t interested in nature documentaries or foreign language films, he never complained. Dean also worked hard to pick movies he thought Castiel would like, or at least, movies he thought Castiel should know so that he could understand more pop culture references. He was so thoughtful, so kind. The kind of person who offered to build a fence, for free, for a strange, blue hermit who lived in the woods just because he mentioned that animals were ruining his garden.
“Yes,” Castiel whispered. “I think I do.”
“I’m so happy for you Cas,” Kelly smiled gently. “You deserve to have this. You deserve to have someone that makes you happy.” Castiel smiled as well. But how did one go about that? How exactly did one “date”?
“What should I do next?” Castiel asked.
“You should ask Dean out of course!” She said like it was no big deal, like it was something that Castiel had done before.
“H-how do I do that?” he stuttered.
“You should talk to him.”
“But how?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Like you do normally. You don't have a problem talking to Dean about other things right?”
“That is true,” Castiel found it very easy to converse with Dean.
“Right,” she continued. “So then just talk to him. Tell him that you had a good time the other night and would like to go on another date with him. Offer to do something for him this time.”
“Such as?”
“You’ll have to think about that one yourself, Cas,” Kelly shrugged a little. “Do something nice for him. What did you like about what he did for you?”
“I liked that he took me to see the view,” Castiel responded immediately. “It was beautiful and not something I would have done on my own. I also liked that he was very considerate when picking up the food from The Roadhouse and didn't make me feel awkward for wanting to wait in the car.”
“That’s good,” Kelly agreed. “He was thinking about what you'd like so that's what you have to do for him, too.”
Castiel carefully thought about her words. What did Dean like? They already watched movies together and Dean liked that… but that didn't seem very special. They just did that normally. As friends. This needed to be something different.
“Dean really likes food,” Castiel wondered aloud. “Maybe I could get some for him?”
“Yeah! Taking him out to dinner is a great idea.”
“Oh no,” Castiel retreated. “Maybe not that…”
Kelly hummed in thought. “You could cook something for him?”
They both fell silent at that suggestion. They both knew that was a bad idea.
“Dean is the one who always cooks…” he trailed off. Castiel felt a bit disheartened. Dean cooked and built things and knew so many interesting films. He was so perfect. What did Dean see in Castiel? He was boring, introverted and…strange.
“How about something from the bakery? Does Dean like sweets?” Jack’s cheerful voice suddenly chimed in from behind him. Castiel swirled around to see Jack standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, munching absently on some crackers.
“Jack!” Kelly gasped. “How long have you been listening?”
“Since Cas decided to ask Dean out on a date!” He exclaimed proudly.
Castiel’s heartbeat managed to slow down from where it had shot up into his throat. At least Jack hadn’t heard the part about the sexual tension between him and Dean.
“Dean is very fond of sweets,” Castiel said. “That’s a great idea, Jack.”
“And you should bring him flowers too!” Jack added.
“Flowers?”
“Yeah!” Jack beamed. “The flowers you grow are so pretty! Dean would like them for sure.”
“It is traditional,” Kelly added.
Cas couldn't help but smile. He liked the idea a lot and together, they began to formulate a plan. He would get some food and flowers to give to Dean when he came over to work on the fence tomorrow. That would be an acceptable offering. One that he hoped Dean would enjoy and Castiel hoped would usher in a new chapter to their relationship.
***
Castiel walked toward Gabriel's bakery the next morning, confident and excited. He had been a little thrown off his plan from yesterday when he received the text from Dean stating that he was feeling unwell. After a brief moment of panic and a quick phone consultation with Kelly, Castiel decided to bring the food and flowers to Dean instead. If Dean was feeling unwell, Castiel would take care of him in his time of need and, hopefully, gather the courage to ask Dean out on a second date.
Castiel had picked a lovely bouquet of pink and white cosmos that were currently in bloom. He had even wrapped it nicely in some tissue paper and secured it with a ribbon (upon Jack and Kelly’s instructions). He had also visited the grocery store and picked up some supplies. Kelly had suggested some different soups and medication that she was sure that Dean would appreciate. Castiel was grateful. Because of his mutation, he never got sick so he was unfamiliar with what supplies were needed in order to aid in recovery from an illness. He held both the bouquet of flowers and grocery store bag tightly in his hands as he opened the door to the bakery.
As he walked inside, bell chiming lightly with his entry, Castiel saw Sam and Charlie were there as well. Sam was standing next to the counter, eating a croissant and talking to Gabriel. Charlie was sitting at one of the tables, cup of coffee in hand and several laptop computers spread out around her.
“Heya Cas,” Charlie looked over at him with a smile and a wave. Sam, too, greeted him with a smile and a good morning.
“Cassie, what's up? Your coffee maker break again?” Gabriel called out from behind the counter. He was wearing a bright pink apron with “don’t be afraid to take whisks” written in cursive lettering on the front.
“No, my coffee maker is perfectly functional,” he replied. Castiel let the door shut behind him with a soft click and advanced toward the counter. “I came to purchase some baked goods.”
Gabriel laughed, “Alright then, what can I getcha?”
“Um…,” he looked at the display cases filled with all sorts of delicious-looking baked goods, from cakes and pies to pastries and cookies. They were truly a feast for the eyes. Gabriel always presented his creations in a very appealing way. The cakes were often decorated with frosting and sprinkles, and the pies were topped with a flaky crust. The pastries and cookies were arranged in neat rows or on decorative trays. The whole display was hard for anyone to resist. Castiel occasionally fell victim to buying more sugary confections than one should at any given time. But today he was on a mission.
Castiel knew that Dean liked pie. He had told him as much on more than one occasion. He glanced at the various options, but couldn’t decide what to get. Both the cherry and peach cobblers looked tantalizing and delicious. He looked over at Sam. Maybe him being here was good fortune. Certainly Sam must know what flavor of pie he should get for Dean.
Castiel looked over at Sam and asked, “Do you know which pie Dean would prefer? I can’t decide between the peach cobbler or the cherry.”
“You’re buying pie for Dean?” Gabriel's eyebrows shot up his forehead. He looked back and forth between Castiel and Sam.
“Yes,” Castiel replied. “He sent me a text message saying that he is not feeling well today. So I decided to bring him something in order to make him feel better.”
“That’s really nice of you, Cas,” Charlie called out from her seat at the table. “Dean’ll like that for sure.”
Castiel felt just a little bit of warmth spread throughout his body. He truly hoped Dean would enjoy the gesture.
“What’s with the flowers?” Gabriel asked.
“Um…” Castiel was not quite ready to explain, but he couldn’t think of a lie. He was terrible at lying. Dean teased him about it quite often. “They are…also for Dean. To make him feel better.”
He glanced back at Sam and Gabriel, waiting for a response. However, both Sam and Gabriel had complicated expressions on their faces. Castiel couldn’t exactly tell what they were thinking, but they certainly looked like they were thinking very hard about something unpleasant.
“What is it?” he inquired.
“Nothin’ Cas it’s just…” Gabriel started but did not finish his statement.
“Just what?” Castiel prodded.
“Cas, it seems like you and Dean have been getting along really well lately,” Sam commented.
“Yes…” Castiel hesitated. For some reason, the way Sam said it, it sounded like him and Dean being friends was a bad thing. “He is my friend and I have been enjoying spending time with him over the past month.”
“Just friends? Nothing more?” Gabriel asked in a tone that was loaded with a double meaning.
Charlie made a long drawn out ooh-ing noise from behind him. He glanced at her over his shoulder and she was smiling wide and her eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm.
“Well,” Castiel looked back over at Sam and Gabriel. He felt his face grow warm and his heart sped up a bit. He wasn’t sure if it was in embarrassment or just the thought of being in a romantic relationship with Dean inspired these feelings. Because that was what Gabriel was implying. Castiel wondered if he should just tell the truth. Really, he was bringing Dean flowers and pie. They probably already suspected that his intentions were more romantic than platonic.
He looked down at his shoes and continued in a tiny voice. “Maybe more…If possible.”
Charlie was up at the counter in a flash, wrapping Castiel in a tight hug. Charlie had a tendency to invade others’ personal space and this was no exception. She stepped back a tiny fraction and smiled at him with so much joy and exhilaration, that Castiel couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’m so happy for you, Cas!” Charlie exclaimed. “You guys would be such a cute couple. Are you going to ask him out on a date? Is that what the flowers are for?”
“Well,” he answered shyly. “We might have already gone on a date the other night.”
“Omg, spill! What did you do? Where did you go? Have you guys kissed yet?”
Castiel blushed at her barrage of questions. “We went for a scenic drive in the mountains and afterward we got dinner from The Roadhouse.” He refused to answer Charlie’s other, very personal question.
“Awww,” Charlie sighed. “That’s so cute! What a nice first date.” Castiel squirmed a bit at Charlie's choice words. First date. It had been his first date. Castiel hoped he could go on a second one with Dean soon.
Sam and Gabriel shared another meaningful look. Castiel tilted his head.
“What is it?”
“Nothing Cassie, it’s just…” Gabriel’s brow furrowed and his lips pursed. Sam’s eyes were narrow and his jaw tightened.
“You disapprove," Castiel inferred their displeasure from their expressions.
“What!?” Charlie slammed her hands on the display case and looked between Sam and Gabriel like they had personally offended her. “What is there to disapprove of? Dean seems like a nice guy. Sam?” Charlie turned her inquiry toward him.
“Don't get me wrong,” Sam raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m happy if you guys are happy. You seem to be getting close, and that’s great. Really. It’s just, we’re a little worried about you, that’s all. We don’t want you to get hurt.”
“How so?” Castiel asked. “Dean does not have the intention nor the ability to harm me.”
“Not physically hurt, Cas,” Sam clarified.
“We just don’t want you to fall hard and fast for a guy who’s just gonna break your heart,” Gabriel continued.
“Why would you assume that Dean will break my heart?” Castiel asked.
“I mean you obviously like him. You talk about him all the time. You're always going on about watching movies with him and him coming to fix your fence and all that,” Gabriel explained. “But I don’t want you to get hurt by someone who’s just looking for a hookup.”
“A hook up?” Castiel’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t know that term but he understood that Gabriel was implying that Dean was not interested in a romantic relationship with Castiel. He glanced at Charlie beside him and she, too, wore a puzzled frown. He looked toward Sam to see if he would say anything in his brother’s defense. Although Sam looked displeased, he kept silent.
“Well yeah, Cassie,” Gabriel continued. “Dean’s the kind of guy who's just interested in sex. I mean, props to him for being able to see past your looks. But trust me, Cas, people like him are not interested in a real relationship.”
Castiel bristled at Gabriel's remarks. He’d ignore the indirect insult to his physical appearance for now. But he was making assumptions about Dean that were baseless. And his tone… The way he was talking about Dean sounded rude to Castiel.
“What do you mean “people like him”?”
Gabriel looked guilty for a moment. He shared a conspiratorial look with Sam.
“Well,” Sam started. “He’s just been with a lot of people before, so…”
Charlie crossed her arms and her eyebrows turned down. “Why would that matter? You can’t judge a person by the experiences they had before they even met you.” Castiel silently agreed. It would be illogical for him to be jealous of Dean’s past sexual encounters.
Gabriel snorted. “Dean’s very experienced, if you know what I mean.”
Castiel looked between Sam and Gabriel. They were glancing at each other but avoiding his eyes. They were avoiding Charlie’s as well, whose head was going back and forth between them all like she was watching a tennis match. Castiel didn’t understand why they were being so evasive. Did they think…Did Sam and Gabriel think that Castiel was unaware of Dean’s previous “experience”?
“If you are referring to the fact that Dean engaged in sex work as his occupation, then I am very much aware.”
Gabriel’s mouth dropped open and Sam looked equally as shocked, his eyes going wide.
“What?” Gabriel gasped. “How did you know that?”
“Who told you?” Sam demanded.
“He what!?” Charlie sputtered out.
They all spoke at exactly the same time. Castiel decided to answer Sam and Gabriel’s question.
“Dean told me himself,” Castiel replied. He raised his brow and tilted his head. His tail shifted against his leg. “He told me about what happened when you were touring the school.”
“Whathappenedwhenyouweretouringtheschool!?” Charlie demanded without taking a single breath or pausing between words.
Castiel looked at her. She seemed genuinely shocked, so she must not have heard about what happened. Strange. Dean was under the impression that everyone in town knew. Charlie was usually very “in the know” about these things, so he was a little puzzled that she had been left “out of the loop.” Come to think of it, no one else had mentioned the incident to Castiel besides Dean. Maybe it wasn’t as common knowledge as Dean thought it was?
“Dean told me that Claire made a joke in poor taste that alluded to his job as a sex worker,” Castiel explained to Charlie.
Charlie gasped. “Poor Dean. That must have been so awful.”
“Dean was quite distressed over the incident, yes.” Castiel wouldn’t say more than that. Dean had confided in him in private and it wouldn’t do to talk about such matters without Dean’s permission.
“Oh,” Sam looked surprised. He looked at Gabriel who shared the same stunned expression.
“What?” Castiel grew agitated. He was getting a little annoyed at Sam and Gabriel. Why couldn’t they just say what they wanted to say? Castiel hated having to guess and infer. He wasn’t very good at it. But it seemed he had successfully “hit the nail on the head” just now.
“I guess…” Sam shook his head. “I guess we just thought that he wouldn't tell you about that.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Castiel asked. “Dean is very open and honest.”
“What? Dean being open and honest?” Sam replied with enough attitude that even Castiel could tell right away it was sarcasm.
“Yes. Is that so surprising?” Castiel snapped back with a bit more irritation than he intended. “Although, now I feel as though I understand why Dean was so worried about being judged.” Sam and Gabriel at least had the good sense to look embarrassed at that comment.
“Sorry, Cassie,” Gabriel raised his hand to the back of his head and ruffled his hair. It was a gesture Gabriel sometimes did when he was contrite. Which, in Castiel's experience, was hardly ever. “I guess we were just worried about you. We thought you didn’t know about the whole prostitute thing.”
“Sex worker.”
“What?”
“Dean prefers the term sex worker instead of prostitute.”
“Uh…” Gabriel looked at him like Castiel had been explaining nuclear physics instead of simple semantics. “Ok, well I was worried about you. I mean, Jo said you guys got dinner together. And yesterday Dean said that it wasn’t a date, so when you came in here with flowers for him I just wanted to–”
“Wait, what?” Castiel interrupted even though it was rude. “Dean said that it wasn’t a date?” What did that mean? Dean didn’t think it was a date? Were they just spending time together as friends? Had Castiel misinterpreted the whole thing?
“Yeah, he totally denied it. Said you guys were just hangin’ out.”
“Oh,” Castiel looked down at his shoes. It was like a dark cloud had suddenly passed over the sun, casting all of Castiel's hopes into darkness.
“Wait, are you sure?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, I asked him how the date with Cas went and he said that it wasn’t a date,” Gabriel went on. With each word he spoke, Castiel felt like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest.
“Dean said he wasn’t feeling well,” Castiel muttered more to himself than to the group. They all paused to look at him, but Castiel kept his gaze steadfastly on the floor. “So he couldn’t come over to work on the fence or watch movies. What if I misunderstood our interaction the other day and he doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore?”
“Cas,” Sam said gently. “I’m sure he’s telling the truth. He wouldn’t stop being friends with you over something like that.”
“Yeah Cas, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Charlie added. She placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “If anything, it was probably this dick here who upset Dean.” She jerked a thumb at Gabriel.
“Hey!”
“But what if…” Castiel couldn’t shake the negative cloud of thoughts that had settled securely over him.
“Gabe,” Charlie leaned forward on her elbows over the counter until her face was close to Gabriel’s, forcing him to take a half step back. “What exactly did Dean say and when exactly did he say it?”
“Uh, yesterday,” Gabriel responded to the sudden interrogation. “I had him over to fix the oven. When I asked him about seeing you guys at The Roadhouse, he said it wasn’t a date and that all you’d done was go for a drive and get some food.”
“Oh,” Castiel felt even worse. That was an accurate description of the events of the night. Was that all it had been to Dean? Just a drive and a meal as friends, nothing more?
“Why did you even ask about that in the first place?” Charlie continued the line of questioning.
“Like I said,'' Gabriel continued his testimony. “I was tryin’ to protect Cas. I didn’t know you knew about his past.”
“What else did you say?” Sam joined in. It seemed he had firmly switched sides on this matter. “Knowing you it was probably inappropriate at best, downright insulting at worst.”
“Et tu, Sam?” Gabriel sighed and shook his head. “All I said was he better not break your heart.”
“That’s all?” Charlie’s voice was hard as steel, quite the contrast to her normal cheery mannerisms.
“Well…” Gabriel trailed off. “I might have said that he better think twice if he was just looking to make some easy money from Cas. Or if he was just trying to up his body count.”
“Gabriel!” Sam and Charlie shouted in unison. Castiel’s eyes snapped up to stare at his friend in shock.
“What!?” Gabriel sputtered. “I was just lookin’ out for Cas! I didn’t want him to get taken advantage of! I didn’t know he knew about the whole hooker thing!”
“That is so inappropriate I don’t even know where to begin…” Charlie and Sam both immediately began to berate Gabriel. Castiel just stood there in shock. That thought had never occurred to him, that Dean could possibly only be interested in sex. That he could be expecting to give his…services to Castiel in exchange for payment. He stood there spiraling like bathwater going down the drain.
“And what did Dean say?” Castiel managed to choke out.
Sam and Charlie paused their tirade and they all looked over at Castiel.
“He didn’t say much,” Gabriel muttered. “Just told me to mind my own business and fuck off.”
“Yeah, well, I would’ve said a lot worse if you’d’ve said that to me,” Charlie declared. Gabriel’s head hung low and his eyes were downcast. He looked properly chastised.
“Cas,” Sam said. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. Dean talks about you all the time and calls you his friend.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Sam assured him with a smile. “He told me all about the movies you guys have been watching and he keeps trying to show me the plans he drew up for your fence. He’s always excited to hang out with you. He definitely doesn’t have any ulterior motives.”
Castiel felt some of the doubt that had filled his heart lift a tiny fraction. Sam was right. Dean definitely was not only interested in a sexual relationship with him. Like Sam said, Dean had declared them to be friends several times. He had not tried to make any overt or uncomfortable advances toward Castiel in their time together. And there were plenty of opportunities. Castiel was not aware of exactly how sex workers conducted their business, but it would be illogical and time consuming if they all waited a month before offering any of their services.
But that still didn’t mean that it was a date. That Dean wanted a romantic relationship, not just a platonic one. He felt his throat get tight and his vision began to blur.
“Cas…” Sam didn’t say anything more.
“I think I’ll skip the pies for now,” He said softly.
“Cassie wait–”
“I’m sorry,” Castiel took a step back and headed toward the door. “I will take my leave now.” It was impolite to leave in such a way, but Castiel didn’t care. He wanted to be alone. On the way out the door, he dropped the bouquet of flowers in the trash can by the door.
“Nice going, asshole,” he heard Charlie say behind his back. The bell on top of the bakery door chimed as Castiel closed it shut.
***
It was barely past nine am on Saturday, and Dean already knew it was gonna be a scorcher. Dean wiped away the bit of sweat that had gathered on his brow as he pinned the backdrop for the dunk tank into place. Jody had roped him into helping set up for the Summer Funfest or whatever it was called. He and a large group of others had worked all day yesterday and late last night to get everything set up for today. Together they had set up lots of stalls, a couple of small rides, and even a stage. The event didn’t start until ten, but Dean had to come early to continue helping.
The school football field had been transformed into a sea of white pop-up tents. Delicious aromas swirled about as people started preparing all kinds of food, from barbeque to ice cream. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation as people set up their stalls to prepare to sell their chunky turquoise jewelry or homemade raspberry jam or whatever else people who lived in the middle of nowhere made in their spare time.
People were scrambling all around him. It was the most people he’d seen in Eden Falls since he got here. He didn’t realize it at first, but there were a lot more people living here than he’d thought. Everywhere he looked he saw someone new that he hadn’t seen before. His skin buzzed a bit and his blood tingled softly in his veins. Dean hadn’t realized just how many mutants had found this place, seeking sanctuary from society.
Dean focused back on his task. Now that he had set up the mechanism for the dunk tank, it was time to actually fill the damn thing. He made sure the drain valve on the bottom was shut tightly before he grabbed the hose that he’d brought over. It was connected to a water outlet on the side of the school. Dean draped it over the edge of the tank before walking over to the tap to turn it on. It sputtered to life and Dean could hear the water rushing through it. He went back over to the tank and watched as the water slowly, painfully began to cover the bottom. He sighed. This was gonna take fucking forever.
He checked his watch and mentally set a reminder to check again in about an hour. Dean didn’t need to sit here and babysit the dunk tank while there was still so much left to do.
He wandered around for a bit to see who needed help. He helped a hot chick named Bela set up some folding tables to display a bunch of antiques. He also helped Benny bring his grill and a bunch of coolers over from his car. Dean liked Benny and could see them becoming friends in the future. He and Dean had some similar interests, the usual things like sports and bacon. Dean was taking a break and chatting with him about football when Jody jogged up.
“Hey Dean,” She breathed out an exasperated greeting, skipping over Benny entirely. Jody looked sweaty and frazzled. She had been running around all morning just like Dean, and as one of the organizers of this event, had a lot on her plate.
“Hey Jody what’s up? Need help with somethin’?”
“Could you come take a look at the mechanical bull? It’s not working and none of us can figure it out,” Jody asked, a little winded.
Dean smiled wide, “It would be my pleasure. Long as I get to ride it.”
Jody looked relieved, a smile coming to her stressed face, “Thanks, Dean. You’re a lifesaver.”
Dean spent about twenty minutes fiddling with the thing before he figured out that there was a problem with the converter box feeding power to the control panel. Once that was adjusted the bull began to twist and turn like it was supposed to. Jody and Donna let out a relieved sigh and a delighted squeak, respectively. They vowed that as soon as they finished inflating the base, he’d be the first to know.
He wandered around some more, helping out when needed. He stopped to check on the dunk tank which was filling with water at an absolutely glacial pace. It was good for him to be out. To be doing stuff. He had spent the last few days just stressing about the whole Cas thing.
He felt really bad about lying to Cas about being sick and not going over to work on the fence. But the conversation with Gabriel had put all sorts of negative thoughts in his head. He still couldn’t help but worry and stress about what Cas thought of their relationship. And about their date-slash-not-a-date.
As much as Dean danced about the subject in his own head, he knew what he had to do. He had to actually talk to Cas. Not just flirt. Not just infer or guess. He needed to know what Cas was thinking, if he wanted to be just friends or if he wanted something more.
Dean knew that from the start. But the main reason he was all twisted up in knots for the last two days was also because he needed to ask himself the same questions. It wouldn’t be fair for him to ask Cas if he was interested in a relationship if Dean didn’t even know himself.
Dean hadn’t dated anyone since Lisa. Before that, he hadn’t dated anyone since highschool. When he had sex outside of work, it was mostly just one night stands. That kind of thing was definitely not what he wanted with Cas. And probably not what Cas wanted with him. Cas seemed more like the wholesome, apple pie, build a life together, buy a house and get a dog type.
He liked Cas. He liked him a lot. He was funny and interesting and serious and dorky. And he was hot. Holy shit was he hot. The components were all there for a real relationship. But Dean wasn’t sure if he was cut out for that kind of relationship. He had tried before with Lisa. He had tried so, so hard. And look how that turned out. He wasn’t good with nice things. He just broke them. He had avoided getting close with anyone since. Just focused on work and Claire.
But hope was a dangerous thing. Maybe here, in this town, with Sam and all these other mutants, it could be different. Maybe with Cas it could be different. They were both mutants. He didn’t have to hide that part of himself from his partner anymore. He didn’t have to worry about Cas finding out, ‘cause he already knew. Maybe…maybe with Cas, he could give it a try.
It all sounded doable until Dean remembered one tiny detail. His stupid power. He was lying about his ability to Sam, Cas, and everyone in town. If he and Cas got together, he would have to be extremely careful in order to keep it a secret. Like a surgeon in an operating room careful. Like a bomb squad deactivating a landmine careful.
Of course he could always tell Cas and Sam and everyone else about his power. But that would be an absolute train wreck that Dean was not prepared to navigate.
He sighed. His thoughts were going nowhere fast. He hadn’t come to a conclusion in the last few days, he certainly wasn’t going to come to a conclusion while he was hooking up a generator to an inflatable bouncy castle.
By eleven, the place had become even more crowded and the festival was in full swing. The dunk tank was finally full and Dean could move on to enjoying himself. Dean wasn’t actually running the dunk tank, he was just setting it up. Garth, the tall, lanky, and overly friendly dentist he’d met at Sam’s, had volunteered to get dunked. And for some reason, he wanted to “test it out” before they got started. Garth sat on the little bench, giddy as a school girl, as his wife, Beth, went up to the trigger. She made a great show of faking him out, getting closer and closer to the button before backing away. The little crowd that had gathered cheered her on.
When she eventually pushed the button, the seat collapsed and Garth yelped as he dropped into the water below. He emerged soaking wet but with a huge grin and a great attitude. The crowd laughed and joked while Beth did a little bow.
“That was such a thrill!” Garth said with a grin.
“Really?” Dean couldn’t help but smile as he handed him a towel.
“Yeah, I was so excited,” he looked over at Beth with affection in his eyes. “I was thinkin’, when’s she gonna do it! Oh no! Not yet, okay maybe now! And then I was wrong and it didn’t go off but then it did and I fell and it was amazing!”
Dean chuckled a bit, catching Garth’s enthusiasm. Garth seemed like the type of person who didn’t struggle to look on the bright side of things. Dean idly wondered what brought him and his wife here to Eden Falls. He could tell they were both mutants. Something about the way she smiled at him while rubbing the towel over his head pulled a little at Dean’s heart.
“A dunk tank? Seriously?” he heard the signature sarcastic voice of a teenager trying to be cool over the murmur of the crowd.
Dean looked over and saw Claire standing with her friends. There was Alex and Kaia along with Patience, who Dean had met a while back. Claire was wearing the Avengers T-shirt that Dean got her for her birthday last year and denim shorts that she must have borrowed from one of her friends. The other girls were similarly dressed for the summer heat.
“A teenager being sarcastic? Seriously?” Dean shot back at her. Claire scowled.
“Are you gonna be wasting your time with this thing all day?”
“Nah, I was just helping set it up,” Dean answered. “Why? Need a babysitter to walk you around and keep you from getting lost?”
“Ugh, no,” Claire scowled even harder and glared at him from under her long emo bangs. “I just thought you would’ve been at the pie eating contest.”
“There’s a pie eating contest!?” Dean exclaimed. What? How could he have missed that? His heart started to beat fast and excitement burst through him.
“Yeah,” Patience piped up. “It’s happening on the stage right now.”
Dean dropped the towel in his hands and dashed off toward the stage. He heard Claire call out after him but he ignored her. Pie was the priority right now..
Dean rushed through the maze of stalls, carefully trying not to crash into people as he desperately made his way toward the stage. His mouth watered as he imagined himself sinking his teeth into a warm, flaky pie, the sweet filling oozing down his chin as he devoured it in record time.
But as he approached the stage, his dreams were shattered. The stage was empty, the tables bare, and the pie plates neatly stacked away. The contest was over. Dean’s shoulders slumped, his face contorted into a mask of despair. Dean had to keep himself from collapsing in defeat. The world around him seemed to lose its color, the lively sounds of the fair replaced by a mournful dirge.
Just as he was about to succumb completely to his grief, a voice broke through his haze of misery.
“Hey Dean,” Sam’s cheery voice cut through the cloud of anguish that had settled securely around Dean’s shoulders. “I thought I’d find you here. Would’ve thought you’d be up there too.”
“I would have if I’d known!” Dean sobbed. “Why didn’t you tell me Sam!? You know how much this would’ve meant to me. I’m devastated! Crushed!”
Sam laughed at Dean’s dramatics. “Sorry, Dean. I thought you knew. Although, I can’t say I’m too sorry.” Sam’s nose scrunched up and morphed into one of his classic bitchfaces. “Really, I don’t know why we still do this. It’s disgusting.”
“That’s because you don’t have any sense of taste, you uncultured hippy,” Dean shot back. He continued over Sam’s indignant protests, “Where’s your better half, anyway? She would understand. She has taste.”
Sam was still pouting as he answered, “Eileen’s helping Donna take tickets for the raffle. She’ll be done in a bit, but I figured I’d come see what you were up to.”
“Nothin’ much, just feeling miserable,” Dean continued his pity party. “Might just go find a hole to curl up in and cry.”
“I have a better idea,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we get some food? Benny’s pulled pork sandwiches always run out fast.”
Dean perked up at the idea of food and together they walked over and joined the long line in front of Benny’s stall. After a bit of a wait they acquired two pulled pork sandwiches which were just as delicious as Benny had claimed this morning. Benny had thrown a little extra meat on Dean’s as a thank you for helping him set up earlier.
Dean and Sam ate their sandwiches quickly and decided to walk around together and explore. Sam was always eager to show off the town and was quick to espouse the “benefits” of such community building events. Dean half listened to his brother as he ate a funnel cake he picked up.
“So,” Sam started to say in a tone indicating that he was about to ask a very annoying question. “Watch any good movies with Cas lately?”
Dean stared at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down. Why would Sam bring up Cas like that? Dean had been trying his best to avoid thinking about Cas all day.
“What?” Sam asked, all fake innocence.
“Why’re you asking it like that?” Dean grumbled, eyes narrowed.
“Like what?”
“Like it's a freakin’ trick question or somethin’,” Dean was this close to knocking that smug look right off Sam’s face.
“No, I was just wondering,” Sam defended. “You guys seem like you're getting along well.”
“Yeah? Is that weird?” Dean frowned. He didn’t know where Sam was going with this, but it couldn’t be anywhere good.
“No no no,” Sam backtracked. “It’s good.”
Dean's frown deepened, his eyes narrowing in apprehension. He had a hunch that Sam's intentions were far from pure. He stared him down, hoping to get across to his blockhead brother that he didn’t want to talk about this right now.
“Do you like him?” Sam blurted out, oblivious to the meaning behind Dean’s glare.
“Do I like him?” Dean scoffed. “What is this, 7th grade?” He took another bite of his funnel cake so that he wouldn’t have to answer Sam’s stupid question.
“You know what I mean, Dean,” Sam scowled. “Don’t avoid the question.”
Dean swallowed the cake and then sighed. It looked like they were doing this. God, Sam just couldn’t take a freakin’ hint, could he?
“So you heard about the date thing too, huh?”
“Uh…” Sam stuttered. “Yeah, I did. Is that what it was? A date?”
“Why’re you askin’ me about that?”
“Inquiring minds want to know.”
“God, everyone in this town is such a freakin’ busybody,” Dean grumbled. “Look, it’s between me and Cas, alright? I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Is there anything to tell?”
Dean got in front of Sam and poked him in the chest to drive his point home. “If and when there is anything to tell, you’ll be the last to know. Cause you're so freakin’ annoying.”
Sam raised his hands in front of him, like Dean was an angry bull that he was trying to placate. “Look, Dean, I’m really not trying to pry–”
“Well you’re not doing a very good job,” Dean interrupted.
Sam sighed. “It’s just…I want you to be happy. And from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you and Cas have gotten close. And I was just, you know, wondering if there was anything more going on there. That’s all.”
Dean paused, chewing on his bottom lip. His voice was a bit shaky as he asked, “And you’d be okay with that?”
“With what?”
“If I was with another guy?” Dean had to force his voice to remain calm. His heartbeat had sped up and he could feel his pulse thumping in his chest. He was not expecting to have this conversation with Sam while balancing a funnel cake in his hands.
“Huh?” Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he looked about as confused as a toddler trying to decipher the instructions to assemble a bookcase from Ikea.
“Oh, yeah, Dean. Of course,” Sam’s brain seemed to have finally gotten with the program. “You being gay doesn’t change anything between us–”
“I’m not gay, Sam.”
“What? Wait, huh?”
“Oh my god, Samantha,” Dean rolled his eyes, but some of the tension left his chest when confronted with Sam’s trademark obliviousness. “Ever heard of being bisexual? Jesus, what the hell did you even do in California? Did you just stay inside reading books and playing nerdy card games with other virgins the whole time?”
“Oh, sorry I just assumed–”
“Yeah, well, you know what happens when you assume.”
They lapsed into silence as they strolled through the bustling fair, their footsteps mingling with the rhythmic pulse of the crowd.
Sam, of course, had to break that comfortable silence by asking, “When did you…you know, start…”
“Start liking dick?”
“I was gonna say when did you start suspecting that you might be bisexual, but that works too.”
Dean thought for a second while he chewed on his funnel cake.
“You really didn’t know?”
“Huh?” Sam was back to looking like a goldfish out of water trying to figure out how to use a fork. “How could I have known?”
“Dude, what did you think me and Cole were doing when he came over to “study”? I was so sure you caught us that one time you came home early from chess club ‘cause you were sick or somethin’.”
“What? I don’t remember that!”
“You don't? Oh man, I almost shit my pants when I heard you open the front door. Well, not that I was wearing pants at the time…”
“Ugh, gross Dean!”
Dean laughed and took another bite of his funnel cake.
***
They eventually met up with Eileen, who was eager to join in on the fun after volunteering all day. They played a couple of carnival games, Eileen managing to win a gigantic stuffed dolphin toy for Sam. Apparently, she was really good at darts, which Dean hadn’t expected, but he sure as hell appreciated talent when he saw it.
The summer sun was still high in the sky as it approached the late afternoon. They had walked around the fair a couple times, and now they were chilling in the shade under some trees on the side of the field, just people watching. Sam and Eileen said there were a couple of events happening in the evening, but they still had a little time before that to just hang out.
“Oh, hey look,” Sam pointed into the crowd. “It’s Cas and Kelly, let’s say hi.”
“What? Wha– Sam!” Dean whisper-shouted at his brother, but it was too late. Sam and Eileen had already gotten their attention, and Cas and Kelly were walking over towards them.
The woman, Kelly, was pretty, with shoulder length brown hair and a bright smile. What was she doin’ with Cas? They looked close. Her arm was around Cas as she guided him forward. She was smiling and laughing at something that the kid said. Wait—kid? They had a kid with them? That had to be the woman’s kid. That couldn’t be Cas’ kid, right? Cas’ would’ve mentioned if he’d had a kid with someone. Right?
“Hey guys how’s it going’?” Sam asked with a grin as the trio walked up.
“Hi Sam, Eileen,” Kelly, answered. “We’re having lots of fun, aren’t we?” She looked down to her side to address the kid standing next to her. He was about seven or eight, around the same age as Ben was when Dean last saw him. He had light hair and blue eyes and was wearing a navy baseball cap. Dean stared at him, trying to parse out whether any resemblance he had to Cas was real or just the product of Dean’s runaway imagination.
“I won a stuffed turtle! See!” The kid held a stuffed toy above his head, presenting his trophy to the crowd of adults around him. It wasn’t nearly as big as the one that Eileen had won for Sam, but it was still comically large.
“Nice one, Jack!” Eileen chimed in.
“What're you gonna name it?” Sam asked.
“Hmmm,” The kid, Jack apparently, thought about it for a moment before snapping his fingers dramatically. “Michelangelo!”
The adults looked at each other rather confused but Dean just barked out a laugh.
“Nice one, kid,” Dean grinned. “You excited for the movie comin’ out?”
“Yeah!” Jack exclaimed, bouncing up and down in place. “I can’t wait to see it! It looks like it's gonna be awesome! It’s by the same guy who made transformers!”
“Yeah, it looks fun,” Dean agreed. “Is Michelangelo your favorite then?”
“Uh-huh! He’s the best ‘cause he’s the funniest!”
“Yeah, he’s my favorite too,” Dean said as his grin grew wide. So he had a soft spot for kids, sue him. “Always thought the nunchucks were pretty sweet.”
“Yeah! They’re awesome!”
“What are you guys talking about?” Sam asked, confused. Kelly, Eileen and Cas all looked puzzled by the conversation. Cas, Dean could understand. He hadn’t seen any cartoons and Dean didn’t know anything about Kelly. But Sam and Eileen had no excuse.
Dean and Jack looked at them like they had just asked how to breathe and said in unison, “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, duh.”
“Jinx!” Jack declared and pointed a finger at Dean. “You owe me a soda!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll get you one next time, kid,” Dean laughed again. He looked towards Kelly. “As long as your mom says it’s okay.”
“It’s fine,” Kelly smiled down at Jack and looked back up at Dean. She smiled again and then winked at him. Dean didn’t even have time to process why she did that before Kelly announced, “You know, I just remembered that Donna and Jody were asking for our help setting up the stage for the talent show later.”
“Yeah,” Eileen popped in. “We better go over right now.”
Cas frowned, “I don’t remember her asking for our help.”
“Oh, you two are good,” Kelly grinned and looked between Dean and Cas. “They said you helped out so much already, you guys can just enjoy yourselves now.” Kelly not-so-subtly pushed Cas to stand next to Dean before she grabbed Jack's hand and started moving away.
“But I didn’t–” Cas started to say, but Sam cut him off.
“Have fun you guys! We’ll catch up with you later!” Sam called back to them as they walked away. Dean was left standing awkwardly with Cas while his brother, Eileen, Kelly and Jack disappeared into the crowd. God, Dean was gonna rip Sam a new one the next time he saw him. And Eileen too. He didn’t discriminate.
Dean glanced over at Cas, who was looking down at the ground and wringing his hands together. Shit. The last thing he wanted to do was make Cas feel bad, especially when Dean was the one with the problem. He needed to act normal, reassure Cas that things were cool between them.
“Hey, uh,” Dean started without even knowing where he was going. “Sorry for not coming over the other day. I, uh, ate somethin’ bad and got a stomach bug.”
Cas looked at him with those beautiful, squinty eyes, and Dean swore he was about to get caught out for his lie. But Cas just nodded and said, “It’s alright Dean. I am glad you are feeling better.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Feelin’ much better.”
“That’s good,” Cas responded. “I’m glad.”
Silence hung in the air between them, and it was the only thing Dean could focus on, the vibrant chatter of the crowd around them fading into the background of his mind.
“So,” Dean started. “Kelly seems nice. Is she your…” He trailed off.
“Kelly is my friend,” Cas responded in that slightly puzzled (and adorable) tone of his. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Dean shrugged to hide his relief. “You guys just seemed close is all.”
“She is just a friend, Dean. A friend who doesn’t listen very well,” Cas muttered.
“Huh?”
“She dragged me over here and then orchestrated a reason to leave us alone together so that I could talk to you.”
“Oh,” Dean’s stomach dropped out from underneath him. Was Cas really that upset with him? For ditching him the other day? For flirting with him? For Dean just being…well Dean? Shit. “Sorry, I’ll just leave you to it then…” Dean made to turn away so Cas could get back to enjoying himself.
“No!” Cas blurted out. His hands shot out in front of him to stop Dean from leaving even though he made no move to actually touch him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I misspoke.”
Cas took a deep breath in, seeming to collect himself for whatever he was about to say. “Dean, I apologize.”
“What?” Dean was not expecting Cas to be the one apologizing here. “What have you got to be sorry for?”
“I heard from Gabriel about the ridiculous and rude assumptions he made about you and the nature of our relationship. I apologize for any offense he caused and I have corrected him.”
“Oh. Uh, thanks,” Dean didn’t really know what to say to that. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did, Dean,” Cas reassured him. “I understand that Gabriel thought that he was protecting me. However, it does not give him the right to judge you or assume you have malicious intentions in your dealings with me simply based on your previous occupation.”
“I’m used to that kind of thing, to be honest. You know, people judgin’ me,'' Dean looked away. “But I won’t lie, I was worried that I was makin’ you uncomfortable.”
“Me?” Cas tilted his head slightly as if looking at Dean from a different angle would help him understand his meaning. “Why would you be worried about that?”
“I don’t know,” Dean still couldn’t quite look Cas in the eye. “I just got worried that you thought, you know, that all I wanted was a one night stand or friends with benefits or somethin’.”
“I am not familiar with that expression.”
Dean huffed out a soft laugh. He could always count on Cas to dissolve the tension with his blunt honesty.
“Gabriel was worried that all I wanted was to sleep with you. And I was worried that you thought that too.” By the end of his sentence, Dean’s voice had gotten smaller, less confident. His heart was stuttering in his chest, anxiously waiting for Cas’ response to his confession.
“No!” Cas gasped. “No, Dean, of course not! Gabriel should not have said those things. I never gave him a reason to think that. I don’t…I never thought that you were being disingenuous with our friendship. And you never made me feel uncomfortable.”
A surge of relief flooded through him and soothed the anxiety that had built up in Dean’s chest. He smiled, “That’s great to hear, Cas. Not gonna lie, I was pretty worried about that. After the thing with Gabriel the other day, it just kinda got stuck in my head that you thought we went on a date and that I was gonna try and hit on you, and yeah, so I’m glad to hear that.”
Cas was quiet. His body hadn’t lost any of the tension he carried from earlier. His shoulders were stiff and had crowded around his ears and he still wouldn’t look Dean in the eye.
“There is something else I should apologize for.”
“What, again?” Dean was ready to move on from this topic. As much as Sam claimed that he was allergic to feelings, Dean was pretty sure they had just talked everything out. Like adults. Quite civilly he might add. What more was there to discuss? “Cas, I’m not mad at you or anything, you’re fine–”
“On Tuesday, when we were spending time together,” Cas began. “I somehow got the impression that it was a date. But I know now that that wasn’t the case and I apologize for misinterpreting our friendship.”
“What?” Dean’s brain was short circuiting. Was Cas saying that he– “Wait. So you’re saying that you did think it was a date?”
Cas’s gaze was firmly locked on the ground as if the astroturf of the school field was absolutely fascinating. His hands were wringing so much, he looked like he was trying to squeeze water out of a rock.
“At the time, I was under that impression, yes. But I have since been corrected.”
“Corrected? By who? Me?” Dean pointed an incredulous finger at himself.
Cas huffed, “You told Gabriel that it was not a date, that we were simply spending time together as friends. And just now, you reaffirmed that fact. Again, I apologize for my mistake and I wish to continue being friends.”
A spark ignited, a flicker of hope that had been dormant for so long. As he watched Cas fidget and squirm, realization dawned upon him, as clear as the cloudless summer sky above him. Cas liked him. Cas thought they went on a date. Cas wanted it to be a date. Because Cas liked him.
The revelation struck him like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the truth that had been hidden beneath the surface for so long. Maybe Dean had just been so eager for a friend, but he had put all of his burgeoning feelings into a little box that he’d kept shut tight and locked away so that he wouldn’t spoil the good thing he had goin’ with Cas. But now, now that he knew Cas liked him, it was like Pandora’s box opening up to release all of these possibilities.
Dean’s heart swelled with a sensation he had never experienced before. It was a feeling of warmth, of lightness, of being enveloped in a comforting embrace. The weight of unspoken emotions lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of liberation and exhilaration.
“What if it wasn’t a mistake?”
“W-what?” Cas looked up from the ground finally. His wide eyes looked like glittering fragments of the bright summer sky and Dean didn’t think he could ever get tired of looking at them.
“What if I’m also okay with thinking it was a date?”
“T-that would be…ideal.”
Dean smiled wide, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “So if that was our first date, are you ready to have a second one?”
“Right now?” Cas blurted out, color rising to his cheeks.
“Yep!” Dean beamed, pleased with Cas’ flustered reaction. “Come on!” He looped his arm around Cas’, feeling the warmth of Cas’s body seeping through his shirt, and pulled him down the long aisle of popup tents and into the crowd.
Chapter 8
Notes:
Hello! Sorry for the wait. The holidays were CRAZY! Everyone in my family, including me, got super sick :( Please enjoy this chapter!
Trigger warning:
Doctor's office, blood draw, and mentions of past drug use. The blood draw procedure is not described in detail, and neither is the past drug use. But if you'd like to skip that part, you can either skip the whole section where Dean goes to the clinic or skip the section where Billlie comes into the exam room.Enjoy!
Chapter Text
The air vibrated with the cacophony of sounds all around them, but all Castiel could hear was the frantic beat of his own heart. His stomach churned and his head spun with the disorienting whirl of flashing lights and swirling crowds.
It was a date. Dean had actually said it, the word hanging heavy in the air. A second date, no less. Now, Dean was navigating the labyrinthine alleys of tents, his arm a warm, heavy presence around Castiel's own. Each brush of fabric sent tingles through Castiel, sparking questions that crackled like rogue fireworks in his brain.
First dates – in novels and movies, the characters always sounded so confident, so self-assured. Dates were supposed to be an effortless waltz of witty banter and stolen glances. This, being pulled along by Dean like a lost child under the dizzying technicolor of carnival lights, was a gut-wrenching pulsing of nerves that felt like they'd tangled permanently in his intestines.
What was he supposed to say? Do? His eyes darted around, unable to settle anywhere for longer than a stolen heartbeat. Was he leaning too heavily against Dean? Could Dean feel the nervous tremor emanating from him like a hummingbird’s frantic wings? Was he sweating? Dear God, was he sweating?
Dean's voice, usually an anchor in the storm of Castiel's thoughts, became a distant drone. He mentioned something about a pie-eating contest, but the words dissolved and lost their meaning before reaching Castiel's ears. Lost in his own anxiety, it took a few moments before Castiel realized that they’d stopped moving and Dean was trying to talk with him.
Dean nudged Castiel's arm playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey Cas, still with me?"
Castiel blinked, pulled back from his swirling thoughts. "Uh, yeah, sorry Dean. Just... taking in the sights." His gaze darted across the brightly lit stalls and giggling families, masking his nervous flutter.
Dean chuckled and gave him a pointed look. "Right, the sights."
Castiel's cheeks flushed a touch warmer. "I'm fine, really. Just...nervous."
Dean's eyebrows shot up, surprise momentarily erasing his playful smirk. “What? What’ve you got to be nervous about?”
“Well,” Castiel muttered. He had trouble meeting the sincerity of Dean’s gaze. “I have never been on a date before. So…”
“What are you talking about? We went on a date the other day, remember?”
Castiel huffed. “This is different. Before we were spending time together as friends. But now, seeing as this is a formal date, the implications are different.”
“Implications?” Dean asked. “You mean you just can’t wait to get me alone so you can have your way with me, is that it?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows up and down in a ridiculously exaggerated manner.
Castiel rolled his eyes in response to Dean’s dramatics.
“Yes, you are just irresistible,” he replied, tone flat. “Especially with powdered sugar all over your chin.”
“What?” Dean squawked. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner! Ugh, I’m gonna kill Sam.” He wiped at his face with desperate hands and something about his flailing made Castiel burst out into laughter. As he laughed at Dean’s indignant expression, Castiel felt his nerves fall away like shadows fading away in the morning sun.
Dean's outrage softened with Castiel’s laughter and he smiled. “See? That’s much better. You don’t have to worry so much about expectations and implications and all that. Let’s just walk around and have fun, okay?”
Castiel met Dean's eyes, a flicker of warmth chasing away the last of the nervous butterflies. "Alright," he murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
They walked along together, side by side, from booth to booth exploring all that the festival had to offer. Suddenly, Dean halted in his tracks, eyes widening like saucers.
"The mechanical bull," he declared, voice tinged with unrestrained glee. “Cas, c’mon! I helped ‘em set it up this morning, and I’ve been dying to ride it all day.” Castiel couldn’t have resisted if he wanted to; he was bodily pulled toward the line.
Dean weaved their way through the throng, effortlessly dragging Castiel into the bustling queue. As they settled into their place, amidst the excited chatter and jostling bodies, Castiel felt a familiar prickle of awareness crawl up his spine. He felt dozens of pairs of passing eyes on him. He looked around nervously.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asked. “You nervous again?”
“Hm?” Castiel looked back at Dean who was waiting for him to respond. “Oh…no, Dean, it is not you. I am having a wonderful time, it's just…” Castiel glanced around and spoke in a low voice, only for Dean’s ears. “People are staring at me.”
“Huh?” Dean’s head swung back and forth as he surveyed the crowd. “Who?”
“It’s fine, Dean, it is to be expected,” Castiel continued. “I mean, it is impossible not to stare at someone like me…” As Castiel trailed off, he lowered his head down to avoid the countless glances directed at him.
Castiel was still resolutely staring at the ground, the turf of the school field had become littered with fallen trash and food items, when he felt Dean step closer to him. With a firm hand on Castiel's shoulder, Dean pivoted them, tucking Cas securely behind his broad frame. Castiel looked up at Dean in shock as he became a wall, a comforting barrier against the unwanted stares and whispers.
For Castiel, it was like stepping into a sudden hush amidst the carnival din. The world contracted, shrinking to the warmth of Dean's solid presence pressing against him and the clean, fresh scent drifting from his hair.
“Cas, just ‘cause they were all raised in a barn with no manners doesn’t mean it’s okay for them to stare,” Dean said. “You have just as much of a right to be here as they do, don’t let them spoil your fun.”
In the shelter of Dean’s arms, a tide of sensations flooded Castiel all at once. His skin tingled where Dean's hand had rested, a phantom heat lingering long after he'd pulled away. He could feel the subtle rise and fall of Dean's breath against his neck, a whisper tickling his senses. Dean leaned in even closer, so that all Castiel could see was the deep green of his eyes, sparkling with a bit of mischief.
“Besides, you’re right. It’s impossible not to stare at you,” Dean’s voice was thick and deep, like the honey Castiel added to his tea in the mornings.
Castiel’s eyes blew wide and his mouth hung open in a little gasp of surprise. Dean was looking at him just like he did the other day, when he had sipped from Castiel’s milkshake. There was a hunger there, a desire, and it made Castiel’s breath exit his lungs all at once. The air between them crackled with a newfound awareness, heavy with unspoken thoughts and uncharted desires. It sent a shiver of excitement down his spine and suddenly, maybe Castiel did want to get Dean alone so he could have his way with him.
But just as quick as it was there, the moment passed. Dean looked up at the line moving forward and shuffled them along. They were close to the front now, and Dean kept Castiel diligently shielded from the crowd. Castiel’s heart rate still couldn’t quite recover, even as their conversation drifted to other things.
Soon it was Dean’s turn to ride the mechanical bull. Castiel moved off to the side to indicate that he was definitely not in line. Despite Dean’s insistence, he had no desire to try out the mechanical bull. After the mishap with the bouncing castle a few years ago, Castiel had steered clear of the carnival rides.
Dean sauntered up to the bull with a confident grin and a little more swagger in his step than usual. He brought a hand up and pretended to tip an imaginary hat towards Jody, who was managing the controls for the ride.
“Woohoo!” Jody called out. “You get ‘em cowboy!” She gave Dean a wink and a thumbs up. The crowd joined her in her cheering, whoops and hollers coming from the people who had been waiting in line behind them.
Dean stretched his hands out in front of him, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck from side to side.
“Watch and learn,” Dean called back to the crowd as he tossed a leg over the side and hauled himself up on top of the bull. “Let Dean show y’all how it’s done. Ready when you are, Jody!”
Jody turned back to the controls and after some button pressing, the bull began to twist and lean forward, its head pointed down towards the ground. Dean gripped the fake horns with one hand as he flung the other out behind him, a smile plastered on his face. The bull began to buck and twist underneath him, but Dean remained firmly atop.
Catsiel couldn’t help but focus on the captivating lines of Dean’s body, the subtle adjustments he made in order to keep from falling off. Every time the bull lurched and bucked, Dean would lean off to the side, his hips rolling with the movement of the machine beneath him. His thighs were clutching tight to the bull’s sides, strong and powerful. Castiel found it difficult to breathe as he watched Dean’s display of athletic prowess.
Dean looked so lovely like this, so happy. Each toss of the bull made him throw his head back in laughter. Castiel swallowed hard as he took it all in. Dean was so outgoing and lively. He had only been in Eden Falls for a little over a month and yet he was already so friendly with Jody and others. It took Castiel almost two years to make friends and even longer to feel close with the few friends he did have. A wonderful, joyous sensation bubbled up in his chest and forced a smile to his lips.
When Dean was finally thrown from the bull, he was laughing so hard he couldn't get up. Castiel laughed along and reached out a hand to help Dean up as he struggled to stand. Dean grabbed his hand and hoisted himself up, right into Castiel’s arms.
Castiel stood frozen as Dean wrapped him in a fierce hug. It was only for a moment, Dean was still laughing as he regained his footing. But still, even then, his arm remained slung around Castiel’s shoulders like a heavy blanket.
“What'd ya think Cas?” Dean panted, still out of breath from his raucous laughter. “Sure you don’t want to give it a go? It’s super fun.”
Castiel’s gaze darted over to Jody and the line of people waiting for the bull. They were all staring, watching him. Watching them. Watching Dean hug him. Castiel felt his stomach drop and panic begin to rise. He took a step back.
“Dean,” Castiel stuttered out. “You…you hugged me.”
“What?” The last of Dean’s laughter left his voice as he looked at Castiel with concern. “Oh, shit, sorry. I thought you were okay with that. Sorry, my bad.”
“It’s not…” Castiel found it hard to think with Dean so close and with all the stares of the crowd on him. “Dean, there are…people can see us.”
“Uh, yeah?” Dean looked taken aback. “Is that a problem?” He raised one eyebrow.
Castiel thought about it. He glanced off to the side to see that the next person had already made their way on top of the bull. Jody was focusing on the controls and the crowd was cheering, their attention completely on the next rider.
“No, I guess…” Castiel looked back at Dean. “I guess it’s not.” He grabbed Dean’s hand in his own and led him back to the festivities, eager to continue their date.
***
Eventually, the sun dipped below the towering pines, casting long shadows across the boisterous festival. Lights flickered to life, bathing the field in brightness and a collective hum of anticipation buzzed through the crowd.
They had made their way to the stage along with the rest of the carnival-goers, eager for the main event to begin. Castiel and Dean stood side by side at the edge of the crowd, off to the side. Even though they were not standing in the middle of the throng of people, Castiel still felt as if there were too many eyes on him, too many bodies crowding him. Dean, sensing his discomfort, offered his hand, calloused and warm, and Castiel slipped his own into it, the simple touch sending a familiar thrill through him. A silent gratitude welling in his chest.
A jarring squeal tore through the carnival air, yanking Castiel's attention back to the stage. There, in the center of the platform, stood Charlie and Gabriel each grasping a microphone with an enthusiasm that bordered on recklessness.
“Welcome to the Summer Funfest Annual Talent Show!” Gabriel exclaimed, his voice echoing through the speakers and across the field.
“A show where you can reveal your talents,” Charlie continued the introduction of the show. “Either mundane…
“…or magical!” Gabriel cut in.
“Magical?” Charlie scoffed. “Magic isn’t real.” The crowd chuckled along with their practiced banter.
“What? Come on, it works for the alliteration.”
“Oof,” Charlie huffed out an exaggerated breath. “I hope our contestants are better than this guy, because the only TALENT I see here is his talent for embellishing the truth.”
“What?” Gabriel clutched at his chest, his exaggerated reaction eliciting laughter from the crowd. “When have I ever embellished the truth? I always tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth!”
“Well, what about that time you said you helped stop a jewelry heist?
“Please, that story rings with the truth.”
“So you were being serious when you said you’re descended from Loki, the Norse god of mischief?”
“It’s true,” Gabriel grinned. “He’s my great uncle! No tricks here.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I think I like the Tom Hiddleston version better. He’s certainly taller.”
“Well, can Tom Hiddleston bake you the sweetest, most delicious red velvet cake you’ve ever had in your life?”
“That’s up for debate,” Charlie snorted. “But speaking of sweet, let’s welcome our first act. Everyone, give a round of applause for our lovely mayor, Donna Hanscum!”
The crowd erupted into cheers and claps as Donna came out onto the stage. Castiel and Dean settled in to watch. It seemed like the whole town was here, the crowd buzzing around them with chatter and laughter.
Garth and his wife Beth took to the stage after Donna was done with her puppet show. They stumbled through a swing dance routine, all floppy limbs and goofy grins, but the smiles radiating between them were contagious. The crowd erupted in cheers, showering them with good-natured applause.
Kevin Tran shuffled onto the stage next, a nervous tremor in his hand as he fumbled with his deck of cards. With a deep breath he launched into a series of tricks. Cards shimmered between his fingers, vanishing and reappearing in impossible places. The crowd gasped, a sense of wonder mixed with awe washing over them.
Music filled the air as the next contestant, a shy woman with an enchanting voice, took center stage. Her ballad was raw and heartfelt. Tears welled in some eyes, Castiel’s included, as her song spun a temporary spell over the audience.
Music acts were quite popular, as Benny came out on stage with his violin. As the first notes drifted from the instrument, Dean leaned in close to his ear to be heard over the crowd.
“Hey, you ever thought about going up there?”
“No, never,” Castiel shook his head. “I could never go up on stage in front of that many people.”
Dean nodded, “Stage fright?”
“Yes. Besides, I wouldn't have anything to do anyway. I can’t sing or dance, and it wouldn’t be very interesting to watch me teleport back and forth across the stage.” Castiel shrugged his shoulders.
“I think you could make that fun,” Dean remarked. “You could like, I don’t know, teleport away and come back dressed in a funny outfit or something. If you put on a whole act, I think it could be really cool.”
“Do you truly think so?”
“Yeah,” Dean winked. “Maybe next year, I can help you with your act!”
“Thank you,” Castiel grinned. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that I am still too terrified to go up in front of so many people.”
“Fair point,” Dean agreed. “Well, if you do wanna go up there next time, let me know and I’ll go up with you.”
“You would do that?” Castiel’s mouth dropped open.
“Yeah!” Dean glowed. “We can embarrass ourselves together!”
Castiel's lips stretched into a wide grin, a genuine laugh bubbling up from his chest. He couldn't pinpoint the exact cause, but a warmth radiated within him, spreading through his limbs like molten sunshine. Perhaps it was the vibrant chaos of the cheering crowd, the symphony of light and sound and laughter swirling around them. Perhaps it was the way Dean's arm rested casually on his shoulder. Most likely, it was the unspoken promise in Dean's words, that he was planning to stay in Eden Falls for the foreseeable future. A future Castiel hoped he would get to share with Dean.
Castiel was lost in his own thoughts when he felt a tremor run through Dean beside him. He followed Dean's gaze, and his own eyes narrowed slightly as they landed on Claire. She was walking across the stage toward the microphone set up, steps determined.
“What?” Dean gaped. “What the hell is she doing up there?” Castiel looked at Dean and saw concern etched into his expression.
“She didn’t tell you she was going to participate?”
“No!” Dean balked. Then, without hesitation, he plunged into the crowd, a battering ram against the tide. Castiel could only trail after him. He struggled to keep up, the jostling bodies blurred into a swirling mass all around him. Each shove, each muttered complaint, was brushed aside by Dean's unwavering focus, his gaze fixed on Claire.
“Hey everyone,” Claire’s voice rang out, distorted at first by the feedback from the microphone. “Uh…hello. My name is Claire and I’m pretty new here so most of you guys probably don’t know me. Uh…I just wanted to say,” Castiel heard her inhale a deep, steadying breath. “That before I came here, I didn’t think I really had any talent. But now I know that I do, and so yeah I’m gonna show you guys. So yeah.”
Dean and Castiel were closer to the stage now, but still not close enough for Dean apparently because he kept trying to push through the crowd like a salmon struggling to swim upstream against the river’s current. Castiel grabbed his shoulder to stop him.
“Dean, wait,” Castiel called out to Dean’s back. “I'm sure it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine!” Dean turned back, agitated. “Not if she’s gonna burn the whole stage down!”
Castiel didn’t know what Claire’s talent was, but it obviously had something to do with fire. He was also a bit shocked at how protective he was over Claire, it reminded him of the first night they met in the police station.
“If that happens, there are plenty of people here who could put it out and I will go up there and grab her before she gets hurt. Alright?”
“You don’t understand! She could get hurt–”
“If she is on that stage then that means she’s been practicing for a while now,” Castiel interrupted. “Bobby and Pam wouldn’t let her do this if they didn’t feel like she couldn't control her talent.
"But Cas–”
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, snapping Castiel and Dean out of their standoff. He followed the wave of startled gazes toward the stage, finding Claire at its center. Suspended in her outstretched palms, a ball of molten orange light pulsed and throbbed, a miniature star trapped in her grasp. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it soaring skyward, the light trailing behind like a fiery comet.
For a breathless moment, the ball hung frozen at the zenith, a defiant spark against the velvet canvas of the night sky. Then, with a sudden crackle, it scattered in a spectacular burst of molten gold and incandescent white. Showering down like celestial confetti, the sparks rained down on the upturned faces below. Laughter and cheers erupted, washing over the crowd in a wave of pure, unadulterated joy. Even Castiel, caught in the contagious revelry, found himself gasping in delight at the beautiful display.
Castiel turned to Dean, ready with an “I told you so” on his tongue, but paused as he saw the expression on Dean’s face. He stood there in shock, eyes locked onto Claire and body still thrumming with tension.
“Dean?”
“I’ve never seen her do that before,” His voice was a delicate whisper, his earlier fury tempered by Claire’s impressive display. ”She always had trouble controlling it and now… Jesus, it’s barely been a month and she can do that already? I’m just…just wow.”
“It is amazing what some people are able to accomplish once they are in a space that allows them to thrive,” Castiel added. Unfortunately that didn’t apply to himself. Castiel had been forced to learn how to use his abilities in a less…supportive environment.
But it seemed like Dean didn’t really hear him. His eyes were still following Claire as she took her last bow and exited the stage. Dean immediately shifted course, turning to the right to push through the crowd.
Castiel trailed after Dean as they inched their way toward the makeshift backstage, the pulsating thrum of music and chatter washing over them. They came upon Claire bathed in the warm glow of backstage lights, surrounded by several of her friends. Castiel recognized them as Alex and Kaia, Jody’s adopted daughters, as well as Patience, Missouri’s granddaughter, and Kevin Tran.
Castiel hovered at the periphery. He knew Claire, of course. He had met her twice before while he was over at Dean's cabin to watch movies. And Dean spoke of her so often, that he felt he knew her. But the others, the teenage residents of Eden Falls, remained largely mysteries to him. He felt a familiar pang of awkwardness, his hands clenching and unclenching beside his legs. Dean, however, oblivious to Castiel's internal squirming, barreled into the group without a single care.
“Nice job there, blondie,” Dean beamed. His tone and demeanor were casual, unconcerned. “When were you gonna tell me that you were planning on going up on stage, huh?” Castiel felt a bit off balance. Dean’s attitude had switched back so suddenly, it was almost like he hadn’t been worried at all.
Claire rolled her eyes. “You would’ve freaked out and worried about me for weeks. Really, I saved you the trouble, wouldn’t want your heart to give out, old man.” Ah, so it seemed that Claire was fully aware of Dean’s overprotective nature.
“Old man?” Dean sarcastically remarked. “I’m still in my twenties, so does that make you an infant or what? In that case you should probably go home, it’s way past your bedtime.”
Claire scowled but Dean just smiled like a cat that had found a particularly interesting mouse to play with. It confused him, how Dean and Claire often spoke to each other. They obviously cared very deeply for one another, and yet they still traded rude insults and sarcastic remarks. Dean had explained that that was just how their relationship was, that they both knew they didn’t really mean it. Still, Castiel didn’t really understand.
“Seriously though,” Dean continued, his smile gentle and proud. “That was great. You looked super in control. How did it feel?”
Claire huffed a little, “It was fine. I was a little nervous to do it in front of everyone but…” Claire glanced to the side at her friends, smiling, “but yeah they made me.” Claire shrugged.
“Yeah, it really looked like they were twisting your arm there,” Dean laughed. “You should be super proud of yourself.” Dean placed his hand on her shoulder. “You‘ve come such a long way and you’ve been workin’ so hard. Your mom would be really proud of you.”
A tremor of vulnerability rippled through Claire. Her gaze skittered away from Dean, seeking refuge in the shadows backstage and the eyes of her friends. She muttered a soft “thank you” under her breath.
“What was that?” Dean leaned in closer and put his hand up to cup around his ear. “Speak up, missy. I'm afraid my hearing isn't what it used to be, old age and all that.”
“Ugh, you suck. Forget it!” Claire glared at him, but Castiel could tell it was all friendly between them. The corners of her mouth were ticked up into a smile and her eyes showed nothing but warmth.
Claire finally noticed Castiel, standing off to the side. She looked between him and Dean, her head swinging back and forth.
“What are you guys doing anyway?”
The group of teens all turned their eyes to Castiel and he felt himself shrink under their collective stares. He definitely didn’t remember being this intimidating when he was a teen. To his shock, Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.
“We’re on a date! We’re havin’ a great time, aren’t we, Cas?”
Castiel stood, frozen, at Dean’s declaration. Castiel turned his gaze to the young group, meeting their wide-eyed stares. Kaia, Alex, Kevin, and Patience - their expressions were a mix of shock and bewildered curiosity. He couldn't fault them. Castiel was, after all, well-acquainted with his reputation as a solitary hermit. He knew their names, yes, but his only real interaction with any of them had been his brief exchanges with Kevin at the grocery store checkout line. It must have been strange for this to be their first interaction with Castiel.
Claire looked especially surprised, her blue eyes blown wide and her brows knit tightly on her forehead.
“Like a date or a date date?” Claire asked Dean, a meaningful look to go along with the hidden meaning behind her question that Castiel had no way of deciphering.
“Like a date date. A real date,” Dean met her stare with one of his own, a seriousness hardening his previously joyful expression.
They stared at each other for a moment, a silent exchange passing between Claire and Dean, a question hanging unspoken in the air. After a moment, the tension broke and Claire huffed out a sigh.
“A date? At a carnival?” She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Real original.”
Dean rolled his eyes, but his hand on Castiel’s shoulder loosened just a bit. “Yeah, ‘cause you have such a rich dating life. You should write a column for Cosmo.”
Claire scowled. “Ugh, you are so old. No one reads magazines anymore.”
“Yeah ‘cause Cosmo definitely doesn’t have a website or anything. That would be unheard of.”
Before Claire could shoot back to continue their banter, Dean continued. “Anyway, you kids have fun. We’re gonna go continue our date. Don’t wait up!” Dean squeezed Castiel's shoulder, a silent reassurance, and then turned, guiding him back into the swirling heart of the festival.
***
Dean had insisted on walking him home after the fair and Castiel agreed that that was a wonderful idea. They had walked along quietly, hand in hand, down the forgotten road that led back to Castiel's house.
Castiel still didn’t want to let go of Dean’s hand, even as their date seemed to be coming to its natural conclusion. They walked side by side up the path toward his front door and then up the three steps onto the porch. Castiel had left his exterior light on and it bathed the entryway and front porch in a soft glow, beckoning him home.
Dean leaned against the porch railing, a playful grin tugging at his lips. His posture was relaxed, but Castiel could tell he was still buzzing with the afterglow of the carnival.
“Hey, so,” Dean started. “I had a really great time tonight.”
“Me too,” Castiel agreed. “I enjoyed our date immensely.”
“Yeah? Good enough to earn me a third date?” Dean puffed out his chest and Castiel thought he looked like a proud peacock.
“I think I may be able to make some time next week. I’ll have to check my calendar,” Castiel smirked.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Well don’t go out of your way or anything…”
Castiel laughed. He figured he could “let Dean off the hook.”
“Dean,” Castiel stepped closer so that he could lean against the rail beside Dean. “I am very much looking forward to seeing you again. Although I must ask…How do you see this relationship between us developing in the future?”
“What do you mean?”
“I care about you a lot,” Castiel faced him, looking into Dean’s eyes to convey his sincerity. “Even though we’ve only known each other for a short amount of time, you have become one of my closest friends. And I just wanted to be clear that I am interested in a serious romantic relationship with you, not just a “fling.”” Castiel raised up his hands to do air quotations in order to punctuate his point.
“Oh, uh yeah. Well, me too,” Dean’s hand raised up to rub at the back of his neck. “I, uh, didn’t…I don’t think of you like that.” Castiel couldn’t help but smile. Dean looked so sweet when he was nervous, instead of trying to wear that armor of charm and invulnerability all of the time.
“Furthermore,” Castiel continued. “I’m sure you’ve gathered that I am inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships. I can’t help but worry that, as we continue dating, my lack of experience may become problematic.”
“Problematic? How?”
“I am unfamiliar with many dating customs and protocols,” Castiel hesitated. “I am also inexperienced in terms of …physical intimacy.” He couldn’t look Dean in the eye. His face was so warm, he was certainly flushed a dark purple color.
“You mean, you’re a virgin?”
Cas nodded, too embarrassed to confirm Dean’s assertion aloud.
“Uh, yeah, Cas. I kinda figured.”
Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. He was unreasonably thankful that he was able to avoid that uncomfortable conversation with Dean.
“Is that alright with you?”
“Cas, you having no experience is just fine with me. As long as you’re okay with me having lots of experience.”
“It is fine, Dean," Castiel smiled. “I have known about your “experience” since we first met. It does not bother me.”
“Good, that’s good,” Dean was feeling nervous again. He looked off to the side away from Castiel as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Lots of people, you know, wouldn’t be okay with that.” Castiel nodded along, hoping to reassure Dean that he was truly unbothered by his past.
“And besides,” Dean continued. “I may have been around the block a few times…” Castiel tilted his head a bit, trying to understand what Dean meant. Thankfully, Dean noticed his confusion and clarified, “You know, slept with a lot of people. But I…I’ve only ever been in one serious, long term relationship. So I guess I’m a little inexperienced in that area too.”
Dean turned to look Castiel in the eye once again. Underneath the warm orange glow of Castiel’s porch light, he was so stunning, so beautiful. Dean looked like an angel, shrouded in heavenly light, sent down by God just for him. Suddenly, Castiel felt an intense longing flood him. It made him feel brave enough to ask.
“There is one dating custom that I would like to try. At the conclusion of a date, when one party drops the other off at home, I believe it is customary, if the date went well, to engage in a kiss.”
“You know what?” Dean smiled with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I think you’re right.”
Dean closed the space between them, their chests brushing. The closeness reminded Castiel of Dean's earlier intrusion in line, and a quiet gasp escaped his lips. Dean's hands rested gently on Castiel's hips, impossibly close. He could see the light freckles on Dean’s cheeks, the tongue that peeked out to lick his lips. Heat bloomed in Castiel's body. He didn't know where to look, what to do with his hands trapped awkwardly between them. Finally, he settled them on Dean's shoulders, broad and warm, anchoring him in the present.
Slowly, like Castiel was a frightened animal (and maybe he was), Dean closed the gap further, until there was no space left between them. Castiel's eyes had fluttered shut, but that was fine, it allowed him to focus on the wonderful feeling of Dean's lips pressed against his own. Dry, a little chapped, but so soft, so close. Dean's whole body was a furnace against his, dizzying warmth radiating out. Dean's heartbeat thumped a steady rhythm against Cas's ribs, a reassuring counterpoint to the frantic drumming trapped in his own chest. Dean's hands held him securely, their chests rising and falling in sync as Dean kissed him gently under the porch light. In that moment, Castiel felt nothing could have been more perfect.
***
Dean strolled down the main street on Monday morning, heading towards the town's medical clinic. He'd arrived early, hoping to squeeze in the appointment before his shift at Bobby's. His work schedule had shifted to Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays due to Cas's Tuesday/Thursday fence duty.
A grin still lingered on Dean's face from their date on Saturday. Cas had been charmingly awkward, and they'd shared a genuinely good time. Dean admitted that he'd worried things might feel different between them, but it was mostly like their usual hangouts. Except with more acceptable touching and flirting. And Cas! Cas had been adorable.
Thinking back to Cas’ awkward confession about his inexperience, Dean hoped he'd reassured him enough. He didn't want to make him feel bad about it or anything. Sure, Dean had been with virgins before, but it wasn't like he sought them out. He didn’t have, like, a virgin kink or anything. This thing he had with Cas was…special, different.
Dean, for one, didn't understand the big deal. He'd lost his virginity a loooong time ago. And although there were some people out there who kept track of their body count, Dean had never bothered. Lisa had already had Ben when they met, so it wasn’t like Dean had to show her the ropes. But he understood, logically, that it was a different story for Cas. This was Castiel’s first relationship, first everything. Dean knew it was a big deal for him.
And hey, while he might have more miles on him than the town bicycle, it wasn't a lie when he told Cas about his one serious relationship, with Lisa. Crowley didn't count. Not a spark of romance there. Aside from that, it had been casual flings, and work, work, and more work.
Speaking of work, Dean reached the Eden Falls Medical Clinic, a small white building that had once been a house. He climbed the steps onto the porch, now converted into an entrance. A sign hanging on the door identified the practice as belonging to a Dr. Moseley MD and listed their hours. Dean pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The waiting room was typical, with worn-out chairs and an assortment of magazines piled on end tables. Glancing to the side, Dean saw an empty reception desk. He approached it and tapped the small bell on the counter.
Dean hummed the tune of “Smoke On The Water” under his breath while he waited. He heard some shuffling in the back, so he knew someone was here. Dean wasn’t in a rush. Even if he couldn’t get seen today, he could still make an appointment for later.
After a few minutes a man came out from around the back. He was older than Dean, probably in his forties, and pretty tall. He had deep, brown skin and wore a neatly trimmed goatee. He was wearing a bright white doctor’s coat that was without a single wrinkle or crease. When he saw Dean, his mouth turned down into a little frown.
“Can I help you?” The doctor asked. Well, more like grumbled. Geez, someone’s got a case of the Mondays.
“Yeah,” Dean answered. “I was just wondering if you guys did walk-ins or if I had to make an appointment?”
The doctor took a moment to consider Dean, his eyes narrowing. “We do take walk-ins. What are you here for?”
Wow, not the best bedside manner there, Doc, Dean thought.
“I was wonderin’ if you could run a STD panel here or not?” Dean barreled on. He’d done this so many times, he’d long since stopped feeling self-conscious about it. He usually got tested regularly, but coming here fucked up his schedule. With Cas entering the picture, and a month filled with fence-building and relationship-building, the test had slipped his mind. He wouldn't lie, the past few weeks had been a welcome vacation from his usual routine. But with things solidifying with Cas, he figured playing it safe was the way to go. Of course, Dean planned on being extra careful when he and Cas eventually got to the point where they started foolin’ around. Dean had more to worry about than just giving his new boyfriend gonorrhea. But, getting this test done would be one less thing on his plate. Just a simple precaution before things, well, progressed.
The doctor frowned even more. “You’re Dean, aren’t you?” He asked suspiciously. “Sam Winchester’s brother?”
“Yep, that’s me,” Dean replied in an overly cheeky manner. Seriously, what was this guy’s deal? Did he have beef with Sam or somethin’?
“And Claire is your…daughter?”
“Well, sorta like an adopted younger sister.”
For some reason, that earned him an even deeper frown. His mouth was turned down like he’d been sucking on lemons all morning. What was his problem? His name Moseley sounded familiar…where had Dean heard that before?
“Dr. Moseley, right?” Dean asked, casually trying to change the topic away from whatever was pissing this guy off. “Any chance you’re related to Missouri Moseley?” Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful, as that only earned him an even more obvious glare.
“I see you’ve met my mother,” he growled. Dean could tell that this guy wasn’t a mutant, unlike Missouri. Well, they did say talent skips a generation. “And my daughter.”
“Your daughter? Patience?” Dean guessed, mentally running through the list of people he’d met that could be Dr. Grumpy's daughter. Kaia and Alex were Jody’s kids, so that just left Patience by process of elimination.
“Yes,” Dr. Moseley confirmed. “She has made friends with your…with Claire.”
“Yeah, I met her once or twice,” Dean commented. “She seems like a good kid.”
“She is a good kid,” the doctor affirmed, pride and a little indignation filling his voice. “Patience is an intelligent, extremely talented young girl with a bright future ahead of her. I don’t want her to jeopardize that future by associating with,” he looked Dean up and down, “people who do not share her values.”
Dean scowled at the obvious insinuation. So that’s what this was about. Daddy didn’t want his precious little girl “associating” with runaways and hookers.
“Look man,” Dean said. “I don’t know anything about you and you don't know anything about me or Claire. But I do know one thing. Patience is not my kid. It’s not my job to parent her, it’s yours. So if you got a problem with her friends, talk to your own daughter about it, not me. I’m just here for a test. Can you do it or not?”
Dean crossed his arms over his chest and stared directly into Dr. Moseley’s eyes. Their stalemate lasted for a few moments, the doctor working his jaw in frustration. Dean waited to see if he would say anything more, but instead, he sighed.
“Yes,” he admitted. “We can take a urine sample and draw your blood here but we will have to send it away for analysis. It will take about two weeks to receive the results.”
“Fine by me,” Dean accepted. “I’m in no rush.” He and Cas hadn’t talked about it, but it seemed unlikely that Cas would be ready to get down and dirty after just one “official” date.
The doctor led him into the back behind the reception desk and told him to wait in one of the exam rooms. He handed Dean a stack of forms attached to a clipboard for him to fill out and left without so much as a backwards glance. Dean was mature enough not to flip him off behind his back. But he did think about it.
Dean sat on the chair, the white paper underneath him crinkling with every single microadjustment as he answered all the questions on the forms. After a few minutes, a gentle knock tapped against the door and a woman walked in with a metal tray full of small test tubes. She was tall, with dark brown skin and bouncy black curls. Dean had seen her around town a few times, but hadn’t talked to her yet. If he hadn’t met Cas, he probably would've made a point of talking with her. She looked really good in those scrubs. But, still, not quite as good as Cas in those cargo pants he wore while gardening.
“Hello,” she greeted him. “My name is Billie and I’m gonna be taking your blood today. Are you finished with that?” Dean handed her the clipboard with all the papers attached. “Great. After we’re done taking your blood in here, I’ll have you give the urine sample. Can I just get you to confirm your name and birthday for me?”
“Dean Winchester. January 24, 1986. I’m an Aquarius.” He smiled wide and she huffed out a small laugh in response. Thankfully, it seemed like Dean hadn’t somehow offended her principles before even meeting her.
“Alright,” Billie said in a sing-song voice. She grabbed a pen from her pocket and used it to write Dean’s information on the labels of the test tubes. “And, can I just confirm, any known allergies?”
“Nope,” Dean knew the drill. He began to roll up the sleeve of his shirt on his right arm. Billie put the tray with the tubes off to the side and started to gather everything she needed to take Dean’s blood.
“Just to let you know,” Dean spoke up. “You might have to stick me a few times. My veins aren’t super great.”
“Well, you’re not the first person to tell me they’re a tough stick,” Billie said. She turned to Dean with a smile, ready with all her materials. “Let’s see what we’re working with first before we jump to any conclusions.”
She scooted closer on the stool, leaning in slightly. Dean extended his arm, palm open, patiently waiting. Doctors and nurses reacted to his scars in different ways. They weren't super obvious anymore, more like faded etchings scattered across his forearm near the crease of his elbow. Most people didn’t even notice them, but medical professionals tended to know what they were looking at. Some, seasoned by years in the trenches, barely registered them, a flicker of their gaze the only acknowledgement. Most nurses and doctors working in the clinics Dean visited fell into that category, frequented by addicts, the downtrodden, and those with limited options. Others launched into self-righteous sermons, their words hollow and useless to him now after so many years. The track marks themselves were relics of a darker past, one that Dean had barely managed to escape.
Billie, thankfully, fell into the former category. Without batting an eye she tied the rubber tube around his bicep and swabbed his arm with an alcohol wipe.
“So,” Dean started, trying to make some friendly conversation. “Did you go to the festival the other day?”
“I did,” she answered, head down and focusing on her work. “I had a great time. How ‘bout you?”
“It was pretty fun,” Dean said. “Better than I expected. To be honest, I didn’t really have high hopes for a small town carnival. But I ended up havin’ a good time.”
“Hmmm,” Billie considered. “It looked like you were having a great time. With Castiel.” There was a smile in her tone, a pointed curiosity. “I must say, you two caused quite the stir.”
“Nothin’s a secret in small towns, huh?”
“Nope,” she teased. “And besides, if you two were tryin’ to be subtle, you were doing a pretty bad job.”
“Well, what can I say?” Dean chuckled, warm with the memory of Saturday night. “We got carried away.”
“I do know there were some eligible ladies in town that were a little disappointed.”
“Does that include the present company?”
“The present company happens to bat for the opposing team. But, I do have to admit I’m curious. Castiel is not known for being a social butterfly.”
“Well,” Dean shrugged. “I suppose I got a thing for quiet dudes who wear khakis.”
Billie laughed as she pulled her gloves off with a snap. “Well, you’re all done. I think Dr. Moseley mentioned it to you, but we have to send the samples to an outside lab for testing. So we’ll call you when your results are ready. Should be about a week or two.”
“Wait, huh?” Dean had been so distracted by their conversation that he hadn’t even noticed her drawing his blood. He looked down at his arm to see a bright red bandage wrapped tightly around his elbow. “Damn, you’re good. I barely even felt that.”
“I am good,” Billie confirmed, no arrogance in her voice, just confidence. “But your veins are fine, Dean. They’ve healed up enough that they’re not in bad shape.”
“Huh,” Dean smoothed his shirt down over his arm. “Well, when I’ve gotten tested before, it always took them a few tries to stick me.”
“That’s ‘cause they suck.”
Dean threw his head back and laughed.
***
The next two weeks melted into a comforting routine for Dean. Despite their new status as an “official” couple, things had been largely the same between him and Cas. Dean was close to completing Cas’ fence, just a few finishing touches remained, like brushstrokes on a nearly completed canvas. They still hung out together to watch movies after Dean had finished for the day. So, a couple nights had found them curled up together on Dean’s couch, the TV humming softly in the background, Dean’s arm wrapped around Cas’ shoulders, sharing soft, chaste kisses. Dean wasn’t really used to going quite this slow. But he was still waiting for his results and he’d promised Cas that he could set the pace. Dean was gonna keep that promise.
He'd also fallen into the habit of having lunch with Sam a few times a week. The town hall, where Sam held his post as Donna's trusty assistant, wasn't exactly close to Bobby’s garage. But the Crossroads Cafe, the only other place to get any grub in this town besides The Roadhouse, sat conveniently between them. It was easy for Dean to grab something for him and Sam to eat on his way over to meet him.
Baby purred to a stop outside the town hall and Dean got out, a brown paper bag containing his offerings cradled in one hand. A classic Italian sub, piled high with meaty delights, was for him, while Sam's lunch contained an abundance of greens and hummus that looked suspiciously like rabbit food, in Dean’s opinion.
Pushing open heavy wooden doors, Dean stepped inside into the small lobby. The town hall, squat and unassuming like most buildings in Eden Falls, held a surprising amount of civic life within its walls. It doubled as a library, its shelves overflowing with dusty tomes and well-worn paperbacks. A faded mural on the wall depicted the town's history, from its pioneer beginnings to its modern mission to become a safe haven for mutants far and wide. A community bulletin board crackled with flyers for upcoming bake sales and lost pet notices, a tapestry of small-town concerns and triumphs.
Kelly, perched behind the chipped front desk, had been lost in paperwork, but her head snapped up at the groan emitted by the old doors. A welcoming smile bloomed on her face as she spotted Dean walking in.
"Hey, Dean," she chirped, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Back to see Sam?"
"The one and only," Dean quipped, rummaging through his bag. His fingers snagged a plump cookie nestled in cling film, and he flicked it across the counter with a practiced air. "And to bribe the office staff, of course."
Kelly caught the offering with surprise, a giggle escaping her lips. "Oh, thanks," she exclaimed, "you didn't have to do that."
"No sweat," Dean winked, flashing his most charming smile. It was a tactic he'd been honing lately, buttering up Cas's friends. Winning Kelly over was high on his agenda. He still remembered the months it took to earn Lisa's friends' approval, how they'd questioned his age, his job, his seriousness about her and Ben. It wasn't until he'd volunteered for weekly babysitting duty so that Lisa and her girlfriends could go out and have “girls night” that he'd transformed from immature boyfriend to hero of the year.
"Got goodies for Donna and Jody too," he added, "they around?"
"Yep, should be," Kelly confirmed between enthusiastic bites of her cookie. Dean chuckled, recognizing the hunger of parenthood all too well. Treats barely lasted a day in a house with kids.
"Perfect," he said, heading down the hallway. "See ya around, Kelly. And don't let Donna work you too hard."
Dean's boots thrummed a familiar rhythm against the worn linoleum floors as he navigated the town hall's corridors. The sheriff's department, nestled at the end of a dusty hallway, boasted a grand total of three officers. Rounding a corner, he spotted Victor and Mick, sprawled in chairs outside their cubicles, coffee mugs clasped loosely in their hands.
“Wow, guys," Dean drawled, a sly grin dancing on his lips. "Workin' hard or hardly workin'?" The irony that he, Dean Winchester of all people, was now exchanging banter with a couple of cops wasn't lost on him. But then again, he never thought he’d live in a tiny rural town full of other mutants either.
“Winchester! Here for your little lunch date with your brother?” Victor snickered. Victor was in his mid thirties and used to be a detective in Chicago before he got outed as a mutant during an internal affairs investigation.
Next to him, Mick, still sporting a hint of his British lilt despite years in Eden Falls, choked back a laugh, hastily camouflaged by a gulp of coffee. Dean didn’t know the full story about why a British dude was living in small town americana, but figured it was none of his business.
“Keep up that attitude and no cookies for you,” With a playful flourish, Dean brandished a saran-wrapped cookie and waved it around to taunt them.
Victor's grin widened. "Whoa there, Winchester, just a friendly jab." Dean smirked, tossing a cookie apiece in their direction, which they caught with practiced ease.
"Boss lady's holed up with Donna," Mick mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, pointing vaguely towards Jody's office.
"Thanks, officers. And for Christ’s sake, try to break a sweat today," Dean quipped, indulging in one last word before rapping his knuckles on Jody's open door. From the doorway, he saw Jody sitting behind her large wooden desk and Donna sitting across from her, twin coffee cups steaming merrily. Their conversation sounded light and casual, the air devoid of any official business.
"Sorry ladies," he announced, offering a mock apology. "Didn't mean to crash your social hour." He hefted the paper bag in his hand, crinkling in his grip, "Brought some peace offerings. Oatmeal raisin, hope you like 'em."
Donna, perched on the edge of her seat, squealed with delight at the sight of the cookies, snatching one like an eager puppy. Jody accepted her own with a warm smile and a murmured "thanks."
"So," Jody began, her gaze settling on Dean with a friendly curiosity. "How are things, Dean? Settling into Eden Falls life alright? Any problems at Bobby's garage?"
Dean shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. "Nah, all good. Bobby's been a great teacher. I’m learning more about cars than I ever thought I'd want to know. Claire's settling in too, though she wouldn't be caught dead admitting it. She’s loving school, the little brainiac." He chuckled, a fond glint in his eyes.
"Well, glad to hear things are good," Jody replied, taking a bite of her cookie. "And hey, Claire being a bookworm isn't a bad thing. Just means she'll keep us all on our toes, right?"
Dean chuckled in agreement. He was proud of Claire and how hard she’d been working lately in order to get caught up. July was coming to a close and the school year would start officially in just a few weeks. Dean was happy that they had found a place where she could thrive, where she could belong.
Dean felt the warm and welcoming atmosphere of the office wash over him, infused with the aroma of coffee and the faint whiff of homemade cookies. Even the paperwork stacks lining Jody's desk seemed less formidable under the soft glow of afternoon light. Eden Falls, with its quirks and surprises, was starting to feel less like a temporary stop and more like a strange, endearing home. Maybe Eden Falls wasn't so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, it could be something more.
Leaving Jody and Donna to their gossip, Dean ambled across the sun-dappled hallway towards Sam's office. It was nestled next to Donna's, a slightly smaller cubby hole crammed with paperwork and overflowing filing cabinets. As usual, Sam was hunched over his desk as he sipped from a hefty water jug, brow furrowed in concentration.
Dean chuckled, relishing the predictable scene. With a playful flick of the wrist, he launched a cookie through the air, aiming for Sam's head with practiced accuracy. The projectile connected with a soft thud, earning a startled yelp.
"Ow! Dean, what the–" Sam's indignant outburst cut short.
"Delivery for one Mr. Winchester," Dean declared, plopping down in the visitor's chair with a thud and thrusting his boot-clad feet onto the desk, sending Sam scrambling to relocate a teetering pile of folders. "Got you that quinoa salad you mentioned. Consider it a token of brotherly love."
Ignoring Sam's mock pout, Dean passed over the plastic container, its contents a vibrant medley of greens and grains. With a rustle of paper, he unfurled his own lunch and proceeded to chow down.
“Do you have to be such a jerk all the time?” Sam grumbled as he unpacked his salad.
“Depends,” Dean chewed his sub thoughtfully. “Do you have to be such a little bitch?”
Dean yelped as Sam kicked him under the table with his giant sasquatch foot.
They settled into a rhythm that was becoming more and more familiar as their relationship was slowly rebuilt, brick by brick. Their laughter was more natural, less strained. They talked about their plans for the week. Dean and Claire were coming over for dinner again on Sunday. Sam was also angling hard to get him and Cas to go on a double date with him and Eileen. Dean threw a tomato at his head in response.
They talked about Dean’s work a bit. Bobby was working him hard, but he enjoyed it. He felt like he’d gotten used to the grumpy old guy by now. He only called Dean an ‘idjit’ twice this morning as opposed to five or more times. Dean was in the middle of telling Sam about a sweet 60’s Thunderbird that Rufus just had sitting in his garage that he was letting Dean work on when Sam got a text.
Sam's face clouded over as he reread the message on his phone, a crease etching itself between his brows. He looked up, a hint of apology flitting across his eyes.
"Sorry, Dean," he said, shoving the phone into his pocket. "I gotta go. Looks like Charlie found a mission for us. An Exceptional has just been nabbed, and she wants us out ASAP to get them sprung before the system swallows them whole." He hastily started packing away his half-eaten salad, the tension crackling in the air.
Dean's brow furrowed. "Wait, what?" he sputtered. "You're leaving? Now?"
"Yeah, sorry to cut this short, but we gotta jet. It's a three-hour haul to Las Vegas," Sam's fingers fluttered across his phone as he sent off a flurry of texts. "And I gotta swing by my place quick, grab my car and change."
"Who else is going? Cas?" Dean pressed, a knot of unease tightening in his gut.
"Yeah, Cas, Charlie, and probably Gabriel too," Sam mumbled, avoiding Dean's gaze as he shuffled some papers, his shoulders slumped. He stood abruptly, grabbing his duffel bag with uncharacteristic haste.
Dean shot to his feet, a defiant glint in his eyes. "Hey, hold on a sec. Did you forget something? I used to live in Vegas, you know."
Sam stopped dead in his tracks, one foot hovering over the threshold. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm saying I should come with you guys," Dean declared, his voice gaining confidence. "I know the city like the back of my hand, the cops' routes, the back alleys, everything. I can be your guide, help you out."
Sam hesitated, gnawing on his lip. "Thanks, Dean. That's… nice. But Charlie probably has everything covered. You don't need to come."
"What could she tell you that I can't?" Dean scoffed. "I know the streets, the shortcuts, the blind spots."
"Dean, appreciate the offer," Sam said placatingly. "But it might be dangerous—"
"Then all the more reason for me to be there!" Dean shot back, frustration edging his voice.
“Look, we train for this stuff, Dean. We have a plan, a system. We're equipped to handle these situations safely and efficiently. And, well, you're not."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Dean bristled, crossing his arms. "Just because I don't levitate pencils for fun doesn't mean I'm useless. Remember when I broke into the police station to save Claire? Same as you."
"True," Sam conceded, "but we have a strategy, a coordinated effort. You can't just drop in on these missions on a whim. Training is crucial, Dean. It's how we stay safe, how we stay one step ahead. You haven't been part of that."
"So let me join!" Dean urged, his voice laced with desperation.
"Dean," Sam sighed, his patience wearing thin. "There's a reason the four of us handle these operations. We train together, week after week, honing our skills, anticipating the unexpected. We have a rhythm, a system that works. You're not part of that equation. You can't just jump in."
Dean's shoulders slumped, anger giving way to dejection. "Come on, Sam," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "Seriously? You won't even let me come along?"
Sam rolled his eyes, a flicker of exasperation crossing his face. "Dean, if you're so eager to participate," he said finally, "my offer still stands. You can join us for training anytime. Learn the ropes, hone your skills. Then, we'll talk."
Dean's face crumpled, a bitter taste of rejection filling his mouth. His shift in demeanor must have clued Sam in to his disappointment. Sam looked away, uncomfortable, before he put on a forced smile.
“You know, Cas comes to the training too,” Sam teased. “And sometimes he wears a T-shirt.”
Dean scowled, Sam's attempt at humor falling flat when faced with the rising tide of disappointment and inadequacy crashing into his chest like a rogue wave.
"Fine," Dean spat, the word tasting like ash on his tongue. "Go on. Just leave me behind and go save your mutant or whatever.”
Sam frowned. “That’s not what this is about and you know it–”
“No, no,” Dean agreed, the sarcasm of his agreement bitter and unpleasant. “You’re right I’ll just hold you back.”
“Dean–” Sam started, but then sighed, long and slow. “I’m sorry, but I gotta go. We can talk about this later.”
Dean didn’t answer him. He couldn’t. Any words that would’ve come out of his mouth would have been either desperate or hurtful. Sam looked at him for a long drawn out moment that tightened and stretched uncomfortably like a pulled muscle. The easy banter they shared before had dissolved, leaving only the unspoken, unresolved resentments of their shared childhood. Sam opened his mouth to say something more, but thought better of it. He turned on his heel and exited the office, leaving Dean alone, the echo of his brother's departure resonating like a gunshot in the quiet room.
Chapter 9
Notes:
Hello! Please enjoy the chapter :) I'm so happy with all the wonderful comments. Thank you so much for all your support. I've been going through a lot recently and it really makes me happy to know some people like this. <3
Chapter Text
Dean tapped his foot rhythmically, arms crossed, as he leaned against the wall of the gym. The teen training session had just wrapped up and now the adult session was just about to start. Sam had offered him some shorts, insisting that his usual jeans-t-shirt-plaid combo wasn't exactly "workout gear," but Dean had stubbornly declined. Now, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, standing off to the side like a wallflower at a high school prom he hadn't been invited to.
It had been a few days since he and Sam got into it about Dean joining in on their missions. Dean wasn’t proud to admit that he’d pouted about their fight for a while. He even took some of his hurt out on Cas, ignoring the text message he sent letting Dean know he was leaving on the mission with Sam. Dean had seen the message, glaring accusatory on his phone, and had slammed the thing shut so hard he thought he broke it.
The stupidest thing though, what was really eating Dean up inside, was that Sam was right. Dean was channeling his anger, his hurt, about Sam leaving when he was eighteen out on him now. They hadn’t talked about it yet. About the fight between Sam and Dad that ended with Sam storming out, shouting words that he could no longer take back because their father was gone. They hadn't spoken about the silent drive to the bus station, where Dean had wordlessly shoved a wad of rolled-up twenties into Sam's hand, a meager substitute for a proper goodbye. Dean hadn't shared the hell he'd endured after Sam left, the rock bottom he barely managed to escape. This whole fight with Sam was dredging it all back up.
As much as Dean didn’t want to admit it at first, Sam was right. This wasn’t about the past. It was about their “mission” or whatever to get people, mutants, out of the hands of the government and to the safety of Eden Falls. The crew had brought back a scrawny young kid named Alfie, who looked like a traumatized golden retriever. He was Dean's new neighbor now, living two doors down at cabin number six. Cas had filled him in on the details: a daring break-in at a secure county detention facility. Alfie had been trapped there with a one-way ticket for Purgatory. But they got him out, brought him here. The pride in Cas's voice, even when he downplayed his role, was unmistakable. And with it came a pang of fear in Dean's chest. The fear of something going wrong, of Sam or Cas getting hurt while he was miles away. That's when he knew. He couldn't ignore the urge to join them, to stand idly by while the people he cared about faced danger like some housewife waiting for her soldier husband to return home.
So he made his decision. And now he was here, watching Cas, Sam and a bunch of others do some warm up stretches in the school gym.
He knew pretty much everyone here by name, even if he wasn’t close with them all. Bobby and Pam were walking around, putting away some stray equipment that the teens had left out. He hadn’t realized it but both Victor and Mick usually come to these things. They were off to the side, their laughter echoing from the corner where they joked among themselves. Jo was here too, the girl who worked the counter at The Roadhouse. Dean tried to ignore the glances she kept casting his way. Even if Dean hadn’t developed a sixth sense for these things, it was pretty obvious she had a crush on him. She’d even slipped her phone number onto a napkin when he got takeout once. He'd hoped the news of him and Cas being together would be a subtle hint, but judging by the jealous glares she was now directing at Cas, it seemed Dean might have to deliver a more direct message
His gaze shifted right, landing on Cas who was stretching alongside Gabriel and Sam. Cas wore a simple T-shirt and loose sweatpants, and Dean couldn't deny how attractive he looked. If there was a silver lining to this situation, it was getting to watch Cas break a sweat. Cas's movements were fluid and graceful, even in the midst of stretching, and Dean found himself mesmerized.
Sam jogged up to him, his hair flopping every which way, wearing shorts, a T-shirt and sneakers. An exercise freak in his natural habitat.
“So, Dean,” Sam said. “You ready to get started?”
“I’m just gonna watch for a bit first,” Dean shrugged casually, trying not to clue Sam into how nervous he was. “That okay with you?”
“Yeah sure that’s fine I guess,” Sam agreed. “We usually warm up a bit before we practice using our talents.”
And so, Dean watched from his place against the wall as the group moved about the gym. As the warm-up stretches concluded a palpable anticipation crackled in the air. People shifted around, adjusting clothes and grabbing equipment, preparing for whatever training exercise was about to commence.
Sam and Gabriel grabbed a particularly bulky piece of equipment, their brows furrowed in concentration. Grunting in unison, they strained to lift and move it to the side. It was only with their combined efforts that the object seemed finally to budge and they were able to drag it off to the side, their faces flushed with exertion.
Meanwhile, Cas moved with a quiet confidence, his gaze sweeping across the room. His eyes landed on a rack full of heavy weights, and with a deliberate grace, he strode towards it. Dean held his breath, anticipation prickling his skin. Cas reached the machine, placed his hand on its side, and with a smooth, effortless motion, lifted it as if it were a mere feather. With ease he walked over to the side and with a soft thud Cas deposited the equipment in its new location.
Dean's jaw dropped, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d suspected that Cas was strong, but this effortless display of power was something else entirely. He couldn't deny the thrill that ran through him, the way this unexpected glimpse of Cas's hidden strength had ignited a spark of excitement in his chest.
"Easy, huh?" Dean heard Sam tease Cas as he wiped the sweat from his own brow.
"Easy," Cas agreed, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.
"Maybe, for you,” Gabriel slapped Cas on the back. “Show off,” he teased lightly.
Dean stood there slack-jawed and dumbstruck, his heart pounding a little faster than usual.
“Hey Cas,” Dean called out to him casually, betraying none of the heat he felt thrumming through his blood.
“Yes?” Cas looked at him innocently.
“Come here for a sec,” Dean beckoned him over with a gesture as he turned and walked toward the doors that led to the bathrooms and lockers. Cas followed behind him obediently and Dean felt his heart speed up in anticipation.
As soon as they slipped around the corner, swallowed by the shadows of the hallway, Dean couldn't hold back any longer. He pressed his lips against Cas', fierce and hungry, claiming him with a desperate kiss. Cas gasped, a startled sound escaping his lips as Dean pressed him into the wall. But after an initial moment of surprise, he leaned into the touch, his arms instinctively circling Dean's neck. They tangled together, muscles straining, bodies burning.
This was nothing like the sweet, chaste kisses they'd shared before. This was raw, primal and hungry. He explored Cas' face with his hands, tracing the line of his jaw, cupping his cheek, feeling the frantic pulse thudding beneath his thumb.
It had been about three weeks since the fair and Dean had been prepared to be in for the long haul, considering Cas was pretty nervous about sex. Dean was fine with going slow. Well, not that he really ever had before. He and Lisa had had their hands all over each other from the first date. But this was important to him, to Cas, so Dean had been letting Cas set the pace for them. But seeing Cas show off that strength, Dean couldn’t resist.
When Cas pulled away, breathless and flushed, his eyes were glazed with a mixture of shock and something deeper, something Dean desperately wanted to understand.
"What was that for?" Cas stammered, his voice thick with confusion and arousal. Cas was panting, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths and he looked dazed and absolutely gorgeous.
“I couldn’t help myself,” Dean grinned, licking his lips. “You’re just too fucking hot.” He stroked over Cas’ cheek with his thumb, feeling the little stubble of Cas’ seemingly-permanent five o'clock shadow.
“Wha- what?”
“You never told me you were strong like that,” Dean breathed. “I mean, I suspected you were stronger than normal, but holy shit Cas that was so hot. What else can you do?”
“I-I…I can heal,” Cas answered. “I have a very powerful healing ability. Cuts, breaks, and wounds heal very quickly…ah!”
While Cas was talking, Dean had dipped his head low to kiss the side of his neck, right behind his jaw and under his ear. Cas leaned into it, his arms tightening around Dean’s shoulders and his chest pressing against Dean’s as he unconsciously opened up under his touch.
“That’s amazing,” Dean murmured into his skin. “You’re amazing.”
Cas tensed, his body going stiff as he whispered, “It doesn’t bother you?”
Dean pulled away from Cas’ neck and looked him in the eye. Cas’ cheeks were still dark and warm, but his eyes, his furrowed brow, betrayed the vulnerability behind his question.
“Are you kidding me?” Dean smiled, wide and reassuring. He couldn’t let Cas think for even a single moment that he wasn’t amazing. “Why would it bother me? I have a super hot boyfriend who's strong enough to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Why wouldn't I be happy?”
"Do you…” Cas continued, uncertain. “Do you really think that?”
“Yeah, Cas,” Dean responded. “I thought it was pretty obvious from the first time we met but…I think you're amazing. Smart, funny, gorgeous. You're the total package.”
Cas flushed even darker, his cheeks a beautiful midnight blue. “Oh, um well… I also think that you are quite amazing. And attractive.”
“Thanks,” Dean couldn’t help but laugh, a warm chuckle escaping into the air between them. “I'm glad we're both on the same page there. It’d be a little awkward if we didn’t like each other, considering we’re dating.”
Cas laughed softly and Dean wanted to lean in and kiss him again. He was about to follow through on that excellent course of action when he heard his name being called by his idiot, cock-blocking brother who had no sense of timing whatsoever.
“Dean?” Sam called out. “Dean, where'd you go?”
Sam’s voice was growing closer to the hall and Cas looked a little spooked. He probably wasn’t ready to be caught out like this. Dean took a step back, instantly missing Cas’ warmth, before calling out to Sam.
“I’m here, I'm coming. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He gave Cas a little wink before he rounded the corner and sauntered back into the gym.
Dean walked back over to the group, half-heartedly listening to Sam chatter about the benefits of training. Dean glanced over his shoulder to see Cas following behind them and he gave him another wink. Cas blushed and looked away.
Victor, Mick and Jo seemed to be doing their own thing off to the side. They were running around the obstacle course and timing each other, Bobby calling out times like the ref at a highschool track meet. Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Pam and Sam gathered at the other end of the gym, out of their way. Dean was still buzzing with energy from making out with Cas and it wasn’t until Pam started talking that Dean realized that he was up next.
“So, Dean,” Pam started. “Why don’t you tell us a little more about your talent?”
Dean swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. He could do this. He was already here. Cas was here. It was okay. He could do this.
“Well, I can move shit. I don’t really know what else there is to tell.”
“That's a good start,” Pam smiled. “But I guess I meant, is it easy for you to use? Difficult?”
“Uh,” Dean hesitated. “I don't really know. I would say, difficult? I don't use it ever. The last time I used it was to show you guys at the orientation thingy.”
“You seemed to be able to move that cup without any problems,” Sam added.
“Yeah, well, a cup is a cup,” Dean shrugged. “I don't know about, ya know, other things.”
“Okay well, we’ll start small then,” Sam declared. “Why don’t you try lifting some of these?” Sam gestured off to the right at a bin full of basketballs. He took a few steps and pulled the bin closer to the group.
“Uh…okay…” Dean trailed off, uncertain.
“Is something wrong?” Sam asked.
“No it’s just…” Dean glanced at Cas and then at Gabriel and bit his lip. “Well, I mean you two already know, but…” Dean gestured between Sam and Pam. “But I don’t want to freak anyone out.” Dean took a deep breath in. “My eyes turn color when I use it and it uh…looks pretty scary.”
Dean jumped in surprise as Gabriel slapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon man. We’re all friends here. No need to be nervous.”
Dean looked at Cas who gave him a small, reassuring smile and then back at his brother.
“It’s okay Dean,” Sam promised. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen.”
Dean probably should've been a bit more upset at being treated like a skittish pomeranian, but he let it slide. He was really, really nervous.
He inhaled again, a deep breath steadying his racing pulse. Raising his right hand, he fixed his gaze on a single basketball perched atop the mountainous pile. The familiar tingle sparked along his fingers, then flared through his veins, manifesting in a subtle shift – he knew his eyes had morphed into a vicious blood red.
Focus. Dean channeled the buzzing power and the chosen ball stirred. With a hesitant wobble, it detached from the others, rising on an invisible current through the air. Hesitantly, Dean drew it towards him. It flew quickly through the air as if it had been thrown by an invisible force. He caught it, the leather surprisingly cool against his heated palm. Glancing down at the object cradled in his hands, insecurity gnawed at him, doubt writhing and constricting in his chest.
Gabriel's jaw slackened, his eyes popping wide like a goldfish gulping for air. "Whoa, man! You weren't kidding, that was seriously freaky!"
Dean shrunk under the spotlight of attention, heat flushing his cheeks as he avoided eye contact. Staring at the floorboards, he couldn't help but wonder what Cas was thinking. His stomach twisted with anticipation. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
Then, a warm hand settled on his shoulder, grounding him. Dean lifted his gaze to find Castiel standing beside him, a fierce frown creasing his brow as he fixed Gabriel with an unwavering stare. The cerulean glow of his eyes seemed to intensify, adding an edge of authority to his voice.
"I would appreciate it if you kept your comments regarding my boyfriend's appearance to yourself," Castiel reprimanded, his voice resonating with a newfound depth that sent a thrill down Dean's spine. "Unless, of course, you consider me a freak as well."
Gabriel stammered, caught off guard by Castiel's unexpected boldness. "Wha-what? No, Cassie, I didn't mean it like that! It's just… I've never…"
Castiel cut him off, his words ringing with confidence. "Then you should have no problem apologizing to Dean for the misunderstanding."
Dean felt a blush blooming across his face, the heat radiating outwards. God, Cas was so damn hot when he took charge like this. All Dean wanted to do was whisk him away from the awkward stares and kiss him until he was out of breath. But alongside the heat, there was a sense of comfort that settled in his chest. If Cas could embrace his mutation, his uniqueness, then Dean had no right to complain about his own.
Gabriel, his bravado deflated, mumbled a sheepish apology. "Sorry, man. I didn’t mean it."
Dean shrugged, unable to muster much enthusiasm. "S'fine, whatever."
The air crackled with awkward tension for a moment before Sam, bless his ever-practical soul, intervened. "Alright," he chimed in, clapping his hands to break the spell. "Let's move on to some other exercises. Dean, how many of those basketballs do you think you could pick up at once?"
Dean blinked, the question pulling him back from his internal turmoil. "Uh, no idea," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
Sam grinned, the infectious energy in his smile a warm beacon in the tense atmosphere. "Well, let's find out!"
For the next half hour, they set to work, transforming the awkwardness into a whirlwind of experimentation. Sam had Dean attempt various feats, testing the limits of his telekinesis. He could manage lifting about five basketballs before his concentration crumbled, sending them cascading to the floor in a bouncy symphony. Throwing proved equally challenging, his attempts to catch airborne balls resembling a drunken man trying to hit a flock of pigeons with an invisible tennis racket. He also discovered a lack of finesse when it came to long-distance manipulation or tiny objects, his telekinetic grip slipping like a wet bar of soap.
Dean collapsed on the ground, panting and exhausted. Lifting shit with his mind was a lot of work. Seriously, how the hell did Crowley make it look so easy?
Pam, who had been sitting on the sideline yelling suggestions, spoke up. "Sam, I was wondering if maybe you could try helping him?" she suggested, her eyes flicking between Dean and the fallen basketballs. “Seems like Dean could use a little focus, ya know?”
Sam jumped on the idea. "Yeah, that's a great call, Pam. What do you think, Dean? Up for a little teamwork?"
Dean frowned, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean help me? Aren't you guys already… you know, helping?" He gestured vaguely at the scattered balls, frustration bubbling in his chest.
Sam chuckled. "Not like that. You see, Dean, I can amplify your talent. Give it a little extra oomph, you know?"
A wave of confusion washed over Dean, followed by a spark of excitement. Was this it? Was this Sam’s real talent? He leaned forward, eyes burning into Sam's.
"Amplify? You mean..."
"I can help you channel your talent,” Sam said, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips. “Guide it, push it past its limits."
Dean's heart hammered against his ribs, each beat a drumbeat of nervous anticipation. "That's...that's your ability? Not electricity or whatever?"
Sam's grin turned sheepish. "Oh, have I not told you about it? My bad, I thought you knew." He shrugged, all casual and nonchalant. Dean was gonna frickin’ strangle him and not a jury would convict him.
"Uh, no, Samantha,” Dean hissed. “You forgot to mention that little detail.”
Sam's hands shot up in surrender. "Hey, I thought you knew about the electricity thing when we were kids! I practiced it for years, but it never really worked. Turns out, it’s because that wasn't my gift."
Dean's face softened a little. He remembered Sam always trying to practice. He would mess around with anything electric: microwaves, TVs, space heaters. But they always short circuited or blew a fuse. Sam would bitch and moan every time it happened and Dean would bitch and moan because he’d have to use their money to buy a new one of whatever he broke.
"So then,” Dean asked, hesitantly. “If it’s not messing with electricity, then what is it? What can you do?"
Sam's eyes gleamed with a new intensity. "I'm an amplifier, Dean. I can take other people's talents and turn them up to eleven. Or even turn them down, like controlling the volume on a TV."
“Wait, huh?” Dean was still confused. “I don’t get it.”
“Well, like…” Sam looked around, finding the words he needed to explain. Surprisingly, it was Cas who spoke up.
“Sam can help me teleport farther distances than I would normally be able to by myself,” Cas explained. “He can also help me jump with more people. Without his assistance, it is difficult for me to carry more than two other people. But together, we can jump several people over a significant distance.”
Gabriel chimed in as well. “Yeah, with Sammy here I can make illusions real enough to touch, not just trapped in your noggin,” Gabriel tapped a finger against his temple. “Here let me show ya!”
Gabriel walked up to stand beside Sam, a mischievous glint in his eye. He grasped Sam's hand, then flourished his own with a theatrical twirl. The air shimmered, warping from an empty expanse into a swirling vortex of black and white. Dean, still slumped on the floor, choked back a yelp as a torrent of beaks and feathers filled the gym with a cacophony of squawks and frantic waddles.
Penguin pandemonium swept towards him. Dean instinctively threw his arm up, bracing for the feathered onslaught. But the chaos was fleeting. As abruptly as the massive horde of birds surged forth, the penguins vanished, leaving behind a startled silence and the lingering scent of fish.
Dean lowered his arm, blinking the afterimages from his eyes. He peeked out from behind his hands to see Sam, face thunderous, berating Gabriel. "How many times have I told you?!" his voice boomed, echoing through the gym. "Don't use me like a party trick!"
Gabriel, however, remained doubled over, clutching his stomach in hysterical laughter. His shoulders shook, tears streamed down his face, and the scene sent a spike of annoyance through Dean. He was about to go over there and give Gabriel a piece of his mind when a realization slammed into him, chilling him to the bone.
It wasn't the prank that sent shivers down his spine. It was the way Sam, with a simple touch, had been the conduit for that chaotic power.
If what Sam was saying about his power was true then that meant…
Dean bolted upright, feet slipping on the matted floor of the gym as he scrambled away. Gabriel's and Sam's voices trailed behind him, fading into the echoes of his pounding heart. He didn't stop until he slammed into the bathroom, skidding to a halt and diving for the first available stall. The world tilted, bile rising in his throat, and he emptied his stomach into the cold ceramic bowl.
Gasping, his lungs burned, and a primal fear gnawed at his insides. If Sam could amplify talents, strengthen them, then by some cruel twist of fate, Dean's power was its mirror image. He was a drain, a vacuum, all he did was take take take, sucking the energy out of the world instead of pouring it in. Dean took away while Sam gave back. Their powers were yin and yang and Dean got the stupid, sharp end of the shit stick.
And Sam? From the looks of it, all he had to do was a casual handhold, a friendly touch, and boom, talents went Super Saiyan. How monumentally unfair was that? It was enough to make Dean slam his fist into the wall, knuckles scraping and bruising against the cold tile.
Dean stumbled to the sink, splashing cold water on his face, the sting barely registering through the burning shame. He leaned heavily against the porcelain, each shuddering breath a battle cry against the injustice of it all.
Sam amplified. Made powers, made mutants, stronger and better. And Cas, Gabriel, everyone knew about it. That meant Dean had to be extra careful to not get found out. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for someone to suspect that Dean’s power was actually a lot more similar to Sam’s than he was letting on. And if someone, anyone, caught wind of that, caught a glimpse of Dean's real power then…Damn it, this just got a whole lot messier.
Dean heard the bathroom door open and soft footsteps walk inside.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice carefully called out. “Dean, are you okay?”
Dean took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready at all. But if there was one thing Dean knew how to do, it was how to act like everything was fine even when he was falling apart on the inside. He stood up from where he had slumped over the sink and walked to the bathroom door.
Sam startled as Dean swung the door wide open. “Dean, are you okay? I'm sorry about Gabe. I didn’t know he was gonna do that, honestly.”
Dean looked at his brother. He was concerned, his forehead crinkled and his eyes desperately searching for a hint to Dean’s mental state. Dean took a breath and put on his big boy panties.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Sammy,” he smiled. “Not gonna lie, I almost pissed my pants just now. Don’t tell Gabriel that, though, He’ll never let me live it down.”
“Oh, uh okay,” Sam seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping and a smile coming to his face. “Well, what do you think so far, Dean? You gonna keep training with us?”
He looked over Sam’s shoulder where he saw Cas and Pam scolding Gabriel for his prank. He thought about Claire and how much better she’d gotten at using her powers. He thought about Sam and Cas going off on missions without him.
He smiled. “Yeah, I’m in.”
***
On Thursday night, Dean pulled up outside Sam's bungalow, nestled a few blocks off the main street. The single-story house, with its quaint porch and welcoming picture windows, offered a stark contrast to Dean's own nomadic existence. He remembered his initial surprise when he visited the first time. It was kinda weird seeing his kid brother living in a real house with his girlfriend. But he kinda got it. Growing up, Sam had yearned for stability, for normalcy, that picket fence dream and everything that came with it. Really, Dean was surprised he didn’t have a dog.
Grabbing the beers from the backseat, Dean hopped out, casting a glance at Cas still emerging from the passenger side. The familiar light polo hugged Castiel's frame, and as he walked briskly towards the porch, Dean couldn't help but appreciate the view—or at least, what was visible beneath his billowing cargo pants. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Ready for board game night, Cas?" Dean quipped.
Cas nodded. “Yes, I am quite excited. Charlie has been trying to make this a “thing” for quite a while now.”
Dean hummed, noncommittal. He didn’t really know Charlie all that well, but she seemed nice and obviously got along with Cas, so he was ready to get to know her a bit better. Dean reached out for Cas’ hand, a small gesture they’d been making a lot recently which always had Cas blushing a little. Cas took his hand and together, they ascended the porch steps.
The screen door creaked open with Dean's familiar swagger, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor as he bypassed the formality of knocking. "Hey Sammy, beer's here!" his voice boomed through the house.
Eileen popped out from around a corner, a warm smile framing her face. She must have felt the thud of his footsteps or the crash of the automatic screen door bouncing back into place. "Hey Dean, hey Cas! Come on in," she beckoned.
Before Dean could fully step inside, a gust of enthusiasm materialized in the form of Gabriel, barreling towards them with the force of a runaway puppy. "Dean-o! You made it!" he exclaimed, clapping Dean on the back with enough force to rattle his teeth.
As if conjured by the mention of his name, Charlie popped out of thin air, engulfing Dean in a hug that threatened to squeeze the air from his lungs. "Hey Dean! So glad you're here!" her exuberance echoed through the room.
Dean chuckled, returning the greetings with a gruff, "Hey guys. How's it going?" He glanced aside, catching Cas' sympathetic smile.
Charlie's grin stretched wide. "I'm so excited you're here! We've been needing more bodies for game night! We’ve got a great game for tonight. Have you ever played Catan before? It's so much fun, you'll love it!"
"Uh, no I haven't," Dean admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But I'll try anything once."
While Charlie and Gabriel continued their excited chatter about the chosen game, Dean slipped away, seeking refuge in the kitchen. Inside, he found Eileen bending over a chopping board, a symphony of rhythmic knife strikes against fresh tomatoes.
Dean broadcasted his movements clearly, making sure she saw him so as not to sneak up on her. "Whatcha got cookin' in here?" Dean asked, leaning against the counter and shoving the beers into the already crowded fridge.
Eileen looked at him, her smile as bright as the sun streaming through the window. "Sam's working on the burgers out back, and I got some sides going here." She gestured at the salad that she was currently chopping tomatoes for.
"Nice," Dean grunted. "Need any help?"
Eileen handed him a plate piled high with sliced cheese and fluffy hamburger buns. "Can you bring these out to Sam?" she requested.
With a nod, Dean took the plate and made his way towards the back door, the scent of sizzling meat already tickling his nose. Stepping out into the backyard, he found Sam standing guard over the grill, carefully flipping the patties with a practiced spatula.
"Hey Sammy!" Dean called out, the screen door swinging shut behind him. "How's it going?"
Sam, his brow furrowed in concentration, glanced up and grinned. "Hey Dean! Burgers are almost ready. You bringin' reinforcements?"
Dean hefted the plate of buns triumphantly. "Just the ammo you need, brother."
The setting sun painted the backyard in long, golden stripes, casting dancing shadows across the grill. The scent of sizzling burgers mingled with the tang of beer. Dean set the plate down next to the grill, handing Sam a chilled beer.
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their drinks and basking in the warm evening air. The hum of crickets and the distant chirp of birds filled the empty space. Finally, Dean cleared his throat, the question he'd been holding back bubbling to the surface.
"Hey, so," he began, his voice hesitant. "Can I ask you something?"
Sam, eyes squinting at the smoke rising from the grill, lowered his beer and turned to him. "Yeah, Dean, what's up?"
"I was just wonderin',” Dean mumbled, fiddling with the label on his bottle. "How did you figure out your powers? I mean, when you left, you still thought it was that
electricity stuff, right? How did you, you know..." he gestured vaguely with the beer bottle.
Sam's gaze softened, a shadow of past hurt flitting across his face. "It's a long story," he admitted, the words tinged with a hint of sadness. "But basically, when I was at Stanford, I met this guy, Brady. He was exceptional too. We weren't close at first, so I kept my head down, but I knew. And I guess he knew about me too, somehow."
He took a long sip of his beer, the silence stretching before he continued. "He joined our friend group, hung around for a while. As we got closer, I thought maybe, just maybe, it'd be okay to tell him. But that was a mistake, a big one."
Dean's heart clenched, his grip tightening on the bottle until his knuckles shone white. "What happened?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Sam sighed, the weight of the memory heavy on his shoulders. "Brady was working with the Feds, Dean. You know how they hunt our kind, make them use their talents to identify others in exchange for not being locked up in Purgatory? Yeah, he was one of them. He'd been onto me for a while, but didn't have any proof. When I told him, he pretended to be cool with it, even asked to see my talent and all that. But he reported me, and then the agents came to take me away."
Dean's breath hitched in his throat, a cold dread seeping into his bones. He imagined the terror, the helplessness Sam must have felt.
"They busted into my apartment at night," Sam continued, his voice tight with emotion. "Took me and Jess, my girlfriend at the time, into custody. Thankfully, they let Jess go – she wasn't exceptional and I hadn’t told her about me. But they kept me. It was…bad, Dean. Really bad. I thought I was going to Purgatory for sure."
Dean felt his own eyes prick with tears. This was everything he'd feared, everything he'd fought so hard to keep Sam from experiencing.
"But Charlie found me," Sam said, his voice catching. "She broke me out. Cas too, by the way. They got me away and brought me here."
"Sammy," Dean whispered, the name a balm on the raw wound of his guilt. The worst-case scenario, the one he'd tried so desperately to avoid, had unfolded as soon as he let Sam out of his sight.
"Yeah," Sam continued, a shaky smile playing on his lips. "So it wasn't until I came here, met other exceptional people like Charlie, Pam, and Missouri, that I figured out what my true talent was. They helped me realize my potential. Looking back, I'm grateful."
Dean's mind reeled. "What!?" he exclaimed, his voice thick with disbelief. “You could've been killed, Sam!"
"Yeah, maybe," Sam conceded, his gaze meeting Dean's with a quiet intensity. "But now I'm here, with Eileen, with you. Dean, I'm living the life I always wanted. I don't have to hide myself anymore. I can share my talents with the people I love. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing."
Dean felt adrift, unmoored by the weight of Sam's words. It was everything he'd strived for, everything he'd hoped they could build together. Safety, acceptance, a family. But could he let himself have it? Did he deserve it after everything he’d done?
"These are almost ready, Dean," Sam said, gesturing at the burgers sizzling on the grill. "Will you help me take them inside?"
Sam’s voice was soft, the gesture an offering of peace and acceptance between them. Dean shook himself out of it. “Yeah Sammy, sure.”
“It’s Sam.”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
Dean smiled wide as he carried a big plate of piping hot cheeseburgers inside. It was all gonna be okay. For tonight at least.
***
It was not gonna be okay. Because if Dean rolled a seven one more goddamn time he was gonna flip the freakin’ table over. He hadn’t been able to do shit in like three rounds because all he kept getting were stupid sheep cards.
Dean grumbled as he sacrificed half his hand to the discard pile. Cas put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, pity in his eyes. At least he was doing well. Cas had neglected to mention that he was really freakin’ good at board games.
“Again!?” Gabriel exclaimed. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve rolled a seven man! How do you keep doing that? Do you just like losing?”
“You know what? Congratulations Gabriel, I think I’ll place the robber right here,” Dean slammed the little gray token right on top of Gabriel’s most productive wood territory. Really, what did he expect after rubbing his “longest road” card in everyone’s face.
The table erupted into boos and pleas for mercy, as Dean’s move also cut off Sam and Charlie from their resources as well. Dean stood firm against the onslaught and handed the dice off to Cas.
They’d been playing for a while now and while originally Dean hadn’t really been into it, overall he was having a good time. It was the first time he’d ever done normal shit like this. He and Sam didn’t really play a lot of board games or card games growing up. And Dean certainly didn’t do this with Lisa or Claire. Lisa was more of a night on the town kinda girl and Claire would’ve probably called him old if he’d suggested playing board games with her. However, he did play a lot of video games with Ben. Kid loved Mario Kart and Wii sports. Even though Dean was currently getting his ass kicked, it was kinda nice to just hang out and kick back a few beers with his new friends.
And yes, he could admit that, despite being an annoying little shit sometimes, Gabriel was becoming his friend. Charlie too. She was awesome. They’d quickly bonded over their shared love of all things sci-fi, especially Star Wars. Dean had choked on his beer when she admitted to having a tattoo of Leia in that bikini get-up on her thigh.
The night had begun innocently enough, with laughter and lighthearted conversation. But as the drinks flowed and inhibitions lowered, conversation started to get a little rowdy. By the time everyone reached their fourth or fifth drink, the topics had taken a decidedly less-PG turn.
Cackles filled the air as Gabriel, fueled by liquid courage, regaled them with a disastrous first date story that involved getting kicked out of a restaurant and having the cops called on them. Just as Dean thought the laughter had peaked, he felt a shift in the room's energy. Suddenly, all eyes were on him, their gazes as sharp as accusatory fingers.
"What?" Dean stammered, momentarily lost in the sudden shift of attention.
"What about YOUUU?" Gabe slurred, his voice thick and his hand waving accusatorily. "Spill the beans!"
"Me?" Dean echoed, feeling like a spotlight had been switched on, exposing him to the scrutiny of an unexpected audience.
"YOU!" Gabe insisted, jabbing a finger in his direction. "I bet you've got stories aplenty!"
"Oh, no. No, no, no. Not tonight," Dean blurted out, the words tumbling over each other in his haste. "Not a chance."
But Gabe wasn't deterred. "C'mon, man! Don't be a party pooper!"
A blush crept up Dean's neck, warming his ears like embers. No way. He wouldn't be caught dead sharing his personal exploits in front of Cas. And Sam.
"Nah man, I don't kiss and tell," he lied, feigning nonchalance. "My lips are sealed, client confidentiality and all that."
"Oooooh, fancy words," Gabe mocked, drawing out the vowels. "So, you were one of those high-class escorts, huh? The kind that caters to the rich and powerful?"
Dean felt another wave of heat bloom across his face. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sam or Cas, fearing their reactions to this unexpected turn of events.
“I’m not gonna talk about that kinda shit in front of my boyfriend and my brother,” Dean declared. He hid behind his beer, taking a long sip and hoping that Gabriel would just drop it. It wasn’t like his old exploits were polite conversation. Dean definitely didn’t want to say anything in front of Sam. Not only was he Dean’s little brother, but he knew that Sam still carried a lot of guilt over what Dean had done while they were kids. Dean didn’t wanna dredge all that up, especially not in front of others.
Add all that to the fact that he had no idea how Cas felt about it. Yeah, sure, he’d said that he didn’t mind Dean’s past. But not minding and wanting to hear all the dirty little details were two very different things. Lisa had known about what he’d done and she was fine with it. But she didn’t like hearing about any of the nasty bits.
Charlie, unable to contain her excitement, chimed in,“Oh, come on. We're all baring our souls here. Remember when I confessed my ex broke up with me via text, right before jetting off to Australia? Share something, anything!
Sam, ever the enthusiastic supporter, jumped on the bandwagon. "Yeah, man," he urged, his voice tinged with curiosity. "I'm sure you've got a few hilarious stories."
He looked back at Sam with a raised eyebrow. Was he serious? He didn’t really want to know, did he? It was probably just the alcohol and the infectious good mood of the party sweeping him along. Dean glanced over at Cas. Cas was smiling too, lopsided and gentle. He had been drinking beers along with the rest of them, but there was no way he was actually tipsy. Cas had told him earlier that because of his healing mutation, he didn’t get drunk unless he binged enough to rival a frat hazing ritual. Cas placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, gentle and reassuring and that was the straw that broke Dean’s resolve.
“Alright, alright fine!” Dean conceded with a sigh. “You win.” He thought for a moment, racking his brain for a memory that wouldn’t be too inappropriate or embarrassing to share.
“One time,” Dean started. “I was booked by this chick–”
“Wait, a woman!?” Gabriel blurted out, eyes wide as he slammed his hands down on the table. “A woman hired you!?”
Charlie elbowed him hard in the side. “What? Like men are the only ones who enjoy sex? I feel bad for every woman you’ve been with.” She shook her head in exasperation.
“No! I just meant–”
“Anyway,” Dean continued, rolling his eyes. It was a pretty common assumption that he was only booked by dudes. Of course, the majority of his clients were guys, but a lot more women hired him than most people thought. “I was over at her house and we were in the hot tub out back. Ya know, havin’ a good time…when we heard the front door open.”
“Uh oh,” Eileen chuckled. Her cheeks were flushed and she was leaning heavily against Sam. She and Sam leaned forward, anticipation etched on their faces.
“Yeah, uh oh,” Dean smiled in agreement, unable to keep his amusement out of his voice. “And that is the moment she decides to tell me that she’s married and her husband was supposed to be away on a business trip.”
“What! Oh my god!” The room exploded with laughter as Charlie's shocked exclamation pierced the air. Gabriel let out a series of high-pitched howls that echoed through the room. Sam and Eileen were cracking up as well. Cas was barely containing himself, his cheeks puffed up from laughter and he hid behind his hands.
"What did you do?" Cas inquired, his voice laced with a playful struggle to contain his own laughter. Dean, caught in the infectious wave of hilarity, felt his lips twitch upwards, widening into a full-blown grin that stretched his cheeks until they ached.
“Well, she started freaking out and told me to go hide. But we were outside, there wasn’t really anywhere to go.” Dean continued over the growing volume of laughter. “So I ended up soaking wet and naked, hiding in the bushes with sticks and leaves poking me in the ass, while she tried to convince her husband that she just felt like having two glasses of wine while skinny dipping in the hot tub.”
Laughter erupted like a burst dam, fueled by Charlie's wheezing gasps and Gabriel's explosive guffaws. Dean struggled to contain his own laughter. He glanced sideways at Cas, the sight of his usually stoic boyfriend doubled over in laughter warming him from the inside out. The cold, hard knot of unease that had formed in his stomach earlier dissolved completely, replaced by a giddy lightness. He joined in the chorus of laughter, the sound echoing in his ears like a soothing melody.
***
Dean popped open a beer and flopped down onto Cas’ couch, his feet thudding softly against the hardwood floor. After giving a ride home to the drunken Charlie and Gabriel, Dean and Cas had made their way back to Cas’ cottage in the woods. Dean was ready to relax. He was a little buzzed and very full and was excited to cuddle on the couch with Cas for a while before heading back home. Cas, ever the stickler for decorum, glared at his sock-clad feet, almost daring him to put them up on the coffee table again. Dean, unfazed, tipped his beer back, the amber liquid warming his throat and spreading a feeling of contentment through him. The party had been great, he got to clear the air with Sam a bit, and his arm was draped comfortably around Cas's shoulder as they sat side by side. Everything was just right.
So, when Cas turned to him, his voice a low murmur, "I'm sorry, Dean," the words hit him like a rogue wave.
“What? What for?" Dean's brow furrowed, searching Cas's face for any hint of what had triggered the apology.
Cas fiddled with the condensation on his own beer bottle, his movements hesitant. "I told Gabriel and Charlie not to, but they brought up your past anyway. I'm so sorry that it made you uncomfortable to talk about it in front of everyone, especially Sam."
Dean snorted, a puff of air escaping his lips. "Nah, Cas, don't sweat it. You didn't do anything wrong. Everyone was just a few too many beers deep."
But Cas wasn't convinced. "You handled it so well, Dean, but I could tell it bothered you."
"Like I said," Dean responded casually, "my old job ain't exactly dinner conversation with you around. And my brother? Yeah, definitely not the audience for a detailed account of my sex life."
Cas's lips twitched, a hint of amusement battling with the concern in his eyes. "That is understandable. Although," he admitted, "I must confess, I am curious…"
"Curious?" Dean echoed, his breath catching in his throat. "Curious about…?"
Cas's cheeks flushed, a dark indigo tint creeping up his neck. "Well," he mumbled, "truthfully, I haven't been able to stop thinking about how you kissed me the other day…about how different it was than the other times you've kissed me…"
Dean's heart hammered against his ribs, a drum solo in the symphony of their shared feelings. He set his beer down, the world narrowing to just the two of them. He scooted closer, close enough for his breath to tickle Cas's ear, the warmth of their bodies a tangible presence.
"Different how, Cas? Good different or bad different?"
Cas looked away, but the dark flush on his cheeks betrayed him. "A good different," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Dean felt a grin tug at his lips, a smile so wide it threatened to split his face in two. Cas, radiating bashful awkwardness, was just too much to resist. He reached out, his hand tracing the curve of Cas's jaw, gently turning his face towards his own. Their eyes met, a silent conversation passing between them, a question hanging heavy in the air. Then, with a tenderness that surprised even himself, Dean leaned in and kissed him.
Dean kept the kiss soft and gentle, like the kisses they’d traded before. He let his hand trace the outline of Cas’ jaw and down his neck as he slowly worked their lips together. Cas’ lips were a little chapped, but soft and eager. Dean felt Cas shift and turn so his chest was pressed up against him, warm and solid. Dean now knew just how much strength Cas had hidden under that ill-fitting polo and the thought of Cas pushing him down and just taking what he wanted made him dizzy.
When he felt Cas’ hand travel up from his bicep to cup the back of his neck, he took that as a sign to keep going. Dean tilted his head a bit and deepened the kiss, pressing his lips more firmly against Cas’, opening up his mouth beneath his own. He felt a puff of air escape from Cas’ lips, a small gasp of surprise or delight, which Dean used to press his tongue against Cas’. Dean groaned as he felt Cas grasp at the small hairs on the back of his neck. Cas tasted like the beers they’d been drinking, but the heat coming off of him was making Dean feel more intoxicated than the alcohol buzzing through his blood.
Cas didn't really know how to kiss like this. His movements were clumsy, his grip on Dean as tight as a drowning man clutching the last lifejacket on the Titanic. But his enthusiasm was undeniable. Each clumsy press of his lips, each shaky breath against Dean's skin, sent a jolt of youthful excitement through him. He was a teenager again, trading secret kisses with Cassie Robinson in the back of the Impala, feeling the thrill of stolen moments with Cole Trenton under the bleachers. Technique didn't matter. Showing off didn't matter. Making sure that his partner was getting their money’s worth didn’t matter. All that mattered was this, the desperate press of Cas's lips, like lost puzzle pieces finding their perfect fit.
Dean loved kissing. He loved making out. He was perfectly content to keep things slow, just a little heavy petting or whatnot. So far, he’d kept his hands above the belt, over the clothes, very respectable. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that Cas was definitely feeling it. His hands were clenching and grasping at Dean’s arms, his neck, basically anywhere he could. He was gasping, making delicious noises of pleasure that Dean swallowed eagerly. And his hips were shifting, desperate to press their bodies closer together.
And how could Dean deny him? His ridiculously hot boyfriend who obviously wanted more? So, Dean decided to up the ante. In one fluid and well practiced movement, Dean braced one hand on Cas’ shoulder and the other on the back of the couch as he swung his leg over Cas to straddle his lap.
Cas gasped, his blue eyes blown wide and surprised as Dean settled so that he was comfortably sitting in his lap. Dean wasn’t exactly small, but neither was Cas and Dean knew he could take his weight. He’d seen plenty of evidence of that at the training session. Dean leaned over him, pressing him deeper into the couch, and kissed him senseless.
Dean leaned in close, tightening his thighs around Cas’ legs, the heat of him flowing through the fabric of his jeans, which were becoming uncomfortably tight. He trailed kisses along Cas’ jaw and down the side of his neck. Cas stretched his neck back letting his head thump against the back of the couch as Dean’s tongue traced and sucked all the exposed skin available to him. A thought occurred to him.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean mumbled, lips scraping over the stubble that had grown in on the side of Cas’ jaw. God, Dean loved the way he felt, the way he tasted.
“Y-yes?” Cas’ reply came in between desperate gasps for air.
“Do you think I could give you a hickey or would you just heal too fast?”
“A–A what?”
“You know, a hickey,” Dean pulled back to look Cas in the eye. He looked so fucking gorgeous, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and pupils blown out wide. But he also looked a little lost. Understandable, considering this was the first time he’d had anyone in his lap before.
“You know what a hickey is, right?” Dean asked.
“Um… no?”
Dean smirked, “Well, let me show you then.”
Dean wrapped his lips around the delicate pulse of Cas’ neck and sucked. He heard and felt the rumble of Cas’ answering groan, long and deep from his chest. Cas grabbed at his shoulders and back, hanging on for dear life as Dean set to his work like a man on a mission. He nibbled and sucked, intent on leaving a mark that would last for at least a little while.
Things were really heating up, literally and figuratively. If Dean was feeling like a horny teenager, then he could only imagine how Cas was feeling. Dean felt his insides burning. The feeling of Cas beneath him, of his arms wrapped around him, his neck pressed against his lips, sent desire rushing down south. His jeans were too hot, his shirt was too hot, and they needed to go. Like, now.
So he took a break from his exploration of Cas’ neck to lean back and pull his shirt off over his head. He tossed it off to the side and sat back a little so that Cas could admire the view. Cas was panting, his chest rising and falling in heavy, unsteady breaths. His eyes were wide and surprised as they traveled over the contours of Dean’s exposed chest, lingering on the tattoo just above his heart. He watched as Cas’ lips parted a little bit and his eyes clouded over with lust. Dean couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride. He knew he looked good. People had been telling him he had a nice face and a pretty mouth since he was a kid. But it was different when the person admiring him like he was a priceless Roman sculpture was his boyfriend and not just some nameless John.
Dean raised an eyebrow, “See something you like, Cas?”
Cas looked up at him sharply, his cheeks, already flushed purple with lust, somehow managed to turn a shade darker with embarrassment. He tried to stammer out a response but only managed to mumble something unintelligible before Dean came to the rescue.
“You know you can touch me too, right? I mean, I’m fine taking the lead if that’s what you want…”
Cas took a deep breath in, steadying himself. His hands were still at his sides, fists clenched. Definitely not where Dean wanted them.
“I don’t–” Cas started, but cut off when his voice came out as nothing more than a rasp. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it feel good the way you do.”
Dean smiled, a feeling he couldn’t place flooding into his heart and melting him from within until he was a puddle of goo. “It’s alright,” he assured Cas softly, his voice just a whisper in the quiet room. “Just go ahead and touch me too. I wanna feel your hands on me. That’ll make me feel good.”
Cas reached out hesitantly, placing one hand on Dean’s chest and the other on his ribs as Dean leaned forward to connect their mouths again. He felt Cas’ fingertips ghost along his side, around his back and over the smooth planes of his shoulder blades. And Dean loved it. He loved the feeling of Cas’ warm, calloused hands running over his skin. He loved the feeling of Cas’ lips and his tongue, moving in tandem with his, figuring out how to kiss, how to make it feel oh so good.
Dean was totally, absolutely, one-hundred percent ready to keep things going in this direction. But there were some practicalities to consider. Although Dean had gotten his results back from the doc (all clean, thank you very much), he didn’t prep or bring condoms or anything (huge oversight). He hadn’t planned on doing anything more than a goodnight kiss with Cas tonight. But now, with the way things were going, Dean figured they could at least get to second base. That would be okay. He didn’t have to worry about that. As long as he was careful. As long as Cas was up for it too.
“Cas,” Dean pulled back a fraction so he could look Cas in the eye. “Just checking in. Do you want to hit the brakes or keep going?” Dean didn’t usually have to ask straight up like this. It wasn’t really a mystery as to what most of his previous partners and clientele wanted from him. But Cas was Cas. This was his first time. The last thing Dean wanted to do was assume and cross a line.
He had to wait a moment for Cas to catch his breath. And for his brain to come back online.
“What–” Cas looked at him and licked his lips and Dean was so so gone. “What did you have in mind?”
Dean couldn’t help himself. He rolled his hips forward, grinding down on the tent in Cas’ pants which had become pretty obvious by now. Cas groaned and his hands on Dean’s hips tightened to the point where Dean could feel his fingernails pressing little marks into his skin.
“Well,” Dean drawled, smug with such a positive response. “I have a couple of ideas.”
Hesitantly, as if entrusting Dean with his most precious secret, Cas whispered, “I trust you.” His voice, bare and trembling, sent shivers down Dean's spine, each tremor a map to Cas' soul. The world seemed to dim around them, the only focus the soft brush of Cas' breath mingling with his own as Dean leaned in close and kissed him.
Chapter 10
Notes:
Welcome to next chapter! Before you dive in, I want to let everyone know that this chapter deals with mature themes, including violence, imprisonment, thoughts of suicide, and death. If any of these topics are triggering for you, please take care of yourself and feel free to skip this chapter. There is a TL;DR along with a full list of trigger warnings in the notes at the end.
I appreciate your understanding and encourage you to prioritize your well-being while engaging with this story.
Now, let's get started!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I trust you.”
Cas had handed Dean his most valuable treasure, his faith, and Dean was drowning in its warmth. He wasn’t good at this. At opening up, showing vulnerability. He wasn’t good at chick flick moments.
But he was good at this, pressing their mouths together in a delicious slide, tilting Cas’ head back to trail kisses along his neck, running his hands up and down his chest. Dean was good at this. And he wanted to show Cas just how good it could be.
Dean pushed gently at Cas’ shoulders, maneuvering them until Cas was lying down on his back and Dean was hovering over him. A soft breath, maybe a gasp of surprise or anticipation, escaped from Cas’ lips as Dean laid his weight on top of him and their legs slotted together. Dean watched with immense satisfaction as Cas closed his eyes and struggled to contain a deep groan as Dean pressed his thigh in between Cas’ legs, giving him friction right where he needed it most.
Dean’s hands found their way to the hem of his shirt and snuck inside. He ran his hands along Cas’ sides, feeling the ridges and bumps of his ribs and the hard muscle tone of his chest beneath his hands. Dean wanted more, needed more. He wanted to see Cas, to feel him. All of him. He began to lift the hem of Cas’ shirt away, exposing his stomach and the tantalizing little trail of hair that led down into his pants when Cas made a small noise in the back of his throat.
Dean paused, dragging his lips away from where they had settled against Cas' neck to examine his expression. God he was stunning. His cheeks were dark and flushed, his pupils blown out wide with lust. But there was another emotion there. Cas looked uncertain, nervous. And Dean couldn't have that.
“Hey, talk to me,” Dean whispered. He pulled his right hand away from Cas’ shirt so he could cradle his cheek. Dean stroked over his sharp cheekbone with his thumb, loving the heat that was soaking into his palm. “What are you nervous about?”
“I..I just–” Cas started. He glanced away, unable to meet Dean’s eyes. He bit his lip, which just made Dean want to kiss him again. Cas took a deep breath, steadying himself before he continued. “I’ve never shown myself to another person like this before.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Dean offered. “I don’t mind being the only one to get naked.” He really didn’t. He knew this would be a big step for Cas. It wasn’t like it was a secret that Cas was self-conscious about his skin and his appearance.
“No,” Cas breathed out. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before opening them again. His eyes seemed brighter, bluer than before and Dean felt his breath stop in his throat as he witnessed their radiance.
“I want you to keep touching me,” Cas whispered softly, but with a confidence in his voice that made Dean’s already pounding heart kick it up a notch. “I want you to keep going.”
“Can do,” Dean smirked, falling back on his trademark snarky attitude. Because Cas’ sincerity, the weight behind his gaze, his unwavering trust in Dean was just a little too much for him to acknowledge right now.
Dean’s hands slipped up and under Cas’ shirt, pushing it up towards his neck and exposing the delicious planes of Cas’ chest and stomach. His skin felt smooth and warm under Dean’s fingertips, his gentle touch causing Cas to shiver and his breath to hitch. Cas was that same gorgeous cobalt blue color all over, which was no surprise. And Dean couldn’t wait to soak it all in.
Cas was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each breath, and Dean was finally, finally able to reach down and taste him. Cas gasped, throwing his head back and arching up off the couch as Dean mouthed and kissed his chest. Dean let his hands and his lips wander, touching and tasting all the mouthwatering skin now available to him. Dean’s lips kissed their way across Cas’ chest until they found their way to his nipple. Cas’ fingernails dug little stripes down his shoulder blades as he teased his nipple with his tongue. Dean lavished attention on his chest, sucking and nibbling on his right nipple while his other hand pinched and caressed the other. Cas was going crazy beneath him, panting and gasping, and trying desperately to grind his hips up.
Dean smirked around his nipple. He shoved his thigh more firmly against Cas’ groin, giving him the friction he so desperately craved. His smirk morphed into a grin as Cas groaned, the vibration of it rumbling through his chest and under his lips.
Slowly, giving Cas plenty of time to register what he was doing, Dean reached for Cas’ pants and began to open them up. Dean opened the button and unzipped his fly, licking his lips at the raised tent of Cas’ boxers. He reached out to trace his fingers along the outline of Cas’ clothed cock.
Cas gasped, inhaling a shaky breath as his hands tightened around Dean’s shoulders. Dean knew that this was the first time anyone had touched him like this and a strange pride flooded his chest. Dean stroked at the tip with his thumb where a wet spot had bloomed on his boxers before palming the rest of his cock. Cas groaned long and low.
“Feelin’ good Cas?” Dean asked, although he already knew the answer. Cas’ eyes had fluttered shut and he was pushing his cock up into Dean’s grip.
“Yes, Dean,” Cas moaned. “Oh, yes, it feels amazing.”
Well, with a glowing review like that, all doubts exited Dean’s mind. He reached for the waistband of Cas’ boxers and began to pull it down.
When he finally got Cas’ cock out from the prison of his cargo pants, Dean was not disappointed. Dean had seen plenty of dicks in his lifetime. So he had plenty of reference material for his imagination. The past few weeks he’d been fantasizing about what Cas’ cock looked like, the size and shape of it, did it curve or lean one way or the other. Cas’ dick wasn't the longest or the thickest he’d ever handled. But somehow it was perfect. It was everything he’d been imagining and somehow more.
God, Dean wanted to suck him off so fucking bad. Dean licked his lips and his mouth watered at the thought. He wanted nothing more than to bend down and wrap his lips around his cock and let Cas fuck his mouth until he choked on it. But that would have to wait until they got some condoms.
Instead, Dean leaned in closer to Cas, so their foreheads were touching and they were breathing in the same air. He wrapped a practiced hand around him and began to stroke. He moved his hand over Cas’ dick, feeling the hot, heavy weight of him in his palm. Dean pressed his hips as close as he could to Cas, his knees digging into the cushions of the couch, the searing heat of Cas’ body trapped beneath his thighs.
“Dean, Dean,” Cas gasped. His voice was deep and sinful and went straight to Dean’s cock. Cas had been pretty quiet up until now, but, man, Dean just had to teach him how to talk dirty. His voice was just made for it.
“Dean, what about–,” Cas panted against his lips. “What about you?”
“Me?’ Dean asked, surprised.
Cas looked up at him with those big, beautiful blue eyes as he trailed his hands down Dean’s chest. “It seems that now, I am the only one getting naked.” Cas smirked, calling back to his words from before.
“Yeah. That doesn’t seem quite fair, does it?” Dean pressed his reply into Cas’ lips. Dean would give him anything he wanted. He would’ve given it to him, no matter what it was. He wanted, needed, to make sure Cas was enjoying himself. That he was getting everything he wanted from Dean, from this.
Dean sat back up on his knees, a cool gust of air coming between them which made him shiver a bit. Cas looked momentarily confused at the sudden distance between them, but was quickly distracted when Dean brought his hands to his own chest.
Dean slowly traced down, making sure Cas was watching every single movement. He paused to pinch and roll his nipples in between his fingers and was immensely pleased when Cas sucked in a breath and he licked his lips. Dean used to have his nipples pierced once upon a time. He took them out before he got with Lisa but now he was seriously considering getting them redone.
After a few moments, Dean let his hands wander away from his chest and down his stomach toward the button of his jeans. He shifted, rolling his hips forward, ensuring he had Cas’ undivided attention as he popped open the button of his jeans and unzipped the fly.
Not that he had to worry too much. Cas was staring at him, his eyes transfixed on every movement of Dean’s hands, his hips, his very soul. His hands were tense where they gripped his waist, tight enough that Dean was sure there would be marks later. Dean was used to being looked at, but not like this. He’d thought that by now, he’d have nothing new to share with anyone. Every part of his body had been seen, touched, tasted, bruised and beaten. But just like everything with Cas, this was different, intimate in a way that Dean couldn’t describe.
Dean reached into the front of his jeans, pushing down his boxers to take out his cock, which was hard and had been begging for attention for a while now. The relief of being free from his jeans and finally getting to wrap a hand around himself made his eyes flutter shut and a groan escaped from his lips. He opened his eyes again to see that Cas was staring at him, looking right where his hand had circled around his dick. Perfect.
Dean stroked himself slowly, watching as Cas’ eyes followed the movements. His mouth had dropped open and his dark violet flush had spread from his cheeks all the way to his ears and down his chest.
“Whaddya think Cas?” Dean’s words dripped from his mouth, thick and deep like sin itself. And Cas was held captive, mesmerized by the spell Dean had cast upon him. “Seems a bit more fair now, doesn’t it?”
Cas’ eyes finally tore away from Dean’s dick to look him in the eye. They stared at each other, the moment hanging in the air like a live wire, crackling with electricity before Cas pulled him down and smashed their lips together once again.
He hooked Cas’ leg around his waist and pulled his body closer, lining up their cocks so that they could grind against each other. They both groaned, their chests rumbling in sync at the feeling of their dicks pressing against each other in a delicious slide. Dean snuck one hand between them to wrap around their cocks to give them some friction, something to push into, while the other wandered down to grip Cas’ hip.
Dean could tell that Cas was quickly headed toward the finish line. Cas’ hips were lifting and jerking in uncoordinated movements, trying desperately to push further into the tight grip of Dean’s fingers. His hands were all over him, gripping his biceps, grasping at his chest and Dean was loving it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten so fired up like this. He just couldn’t wait to see Cas’ eyes roll back in his head, his mouth drop open as he groaned in exquisite pleasure. Dean let his free hand drift even lower and squeezed the firm cheek of Cas’ ass.
But suddenly, Cas froze, all movement and breath stopping instantaneously as the warm body beneath Dean just disappeared in a blink of an eye. He hit the couch with the grace of a drunken baby giraffe, his face buried in the cushions as he let out a muffled "oof!". He flailed like a turtle on its back, a wheeze escaping his lips as he tried to untangle himself from the pillows. When Dean finally escaped, he opened his eyes to find that Cas was just gone.
Like plunging through thin ice into the abyss of a frozen lake, panic surged through Dean, a fist squeezing his heart and erasing all of the lingering heat of arousal. Cas was gone. Like, gone gone. A frantic scan of the living room, the kitchen, anywhere his eyes could reach, turned up nothing. He quickly stuffed his waning erection back inside his jeans and shot up from the couch.
"Cas?" Dean's voice cracked, echoing through the eerily silent house. "Cas, baby, where are you?"
He held his breath, straining for any answer, but only the soft hum of the fridge responded. Guilt and fear coiled around him like vipers, squeezing his lungs for air. What had he done? Had he crossed a line? Was it something he said? Things were going good, weren’t they?
His heart hammered frantically against his ribs as he tore through the house, fueled by a growing desperation. Dean searched the kitchen, he threw open closed doors, he even stepped outside, squinting against the moonlit darkness, desperately scanning the silent yard for any sign of Cas. Nothing
His feet carried him up the creaking stairs, each step a thudding reminder of his rising panic. Dean had been up here before, the one and only bathroom in Cas’ tiny cottage was upstairs as well as the two bedrooms. There wasn’t any other place he could be.
Reaching the top of the stairs, a strangled sob drew Dean towards the closed door of Cas' bedroom. His heart clenched with each broken gasp, guilt threatening to swamp him.
He raised a trembling hand, knuckles rapping softly on the wood. "Cas?" his voice crackled, a question more than a name. "Cas, can I come in?"
A hollow silence stretched out. A million thoughts and regrets clawed at Dean’s insides like a pack of starving wolves as he stood in front of the door, waiting for something, anything. Whether Cas would invite him in or tell him to fuck off, he didn’t know. Then, just as Dean's hope began to flicker, a barely audible whisper carried through the gap.
"Okay."
Dean pushed the door open slowly only to find Cas huddled on the bed, a blanket cocooning him like a flimsy shield. Every instinct screamed for him to rush in, to offer comfort, to banish whatever shadows haunted the corners of Cas' mind.
But the thought of himself being the source of this torment, the monster inflicting these invisible wounds, held him back. Dean stood frozen, caught between the desperate need to comfort and the paralyzing fear of causing further harm.
“Cas?” Dean choked out, his voice hoarse with concern.
Cas met his gaze, the light from the hallway painting his face with a soft glow. Even in the dimness, Dean saw the tears brimming in Cas' eyes, threatening to spill over. Cas held his gaze for a fleeting moment before his composure crumbled, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“I’m so sorry, Dean,” he choked out, the words tumbling out like shattered glass. “I… I panicked. I…”
Dean rushed to his side, all doubt and hesitation left behind at the door as he sat beside Cas on the bed.
“Hey, shhhh, it’s okay,” he murmured. “What happened?”
In between ragged breaths, Cas whispered, “You… you almost touched my tail.”
Dean’s stomach plummeted. Guilt, heavy and acrid, rose in his throat, forcing an apology to his lips. “Oh, shit, Cas. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t thinking I just–.”
“No, Dean,” Cas sobbed, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I… I ruined it. I ruined everything. I…”
“No, Cas, hey, shhh,” Dean soothed, gently wrapping an arm around Cas’ shoulders. He announced his movements clearly, giving Cas the chance to pull away if needed. But Cas didn’t. Instead, he scooted closer, his body trembling against Dean’s. Dean tightened his grip, a silent promise of protection and comfort.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Dean assured him, running calming fingers up and down Cas’ back. He felt him shiver as he inhaled shaky, broken breaths. “It’s okay. I promise.”
“But I did!” Cas insisted, his voice still strained. His shoulders were slumped in defeat as he buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. “I ruined our moment. We were…we were having a great time and I ruined it because I panicked and I–”
“Cas, it’s okay,” Dean’s voice was firm but gentle. He rested his cheek against the top of Cas' head, inhaling the strong, clean scent of his shampoo. “Really. We’ll have other moments. It’s okay. I'm just glad you’re okay. Did I…did I hurt you?”
“No,” Cas shook his head, his hair brushing against Dean’s nose. “But when I felt your hand so close to my tail…I panicked. I just jumped away on instinct.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dean repeated. “I wasn’t thinking. I just forgot. Honestly, I forget that you even have a tail most of the time.”
“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas replied, his face still hidden against Dean’s shoulder. He felt Cas’ breath against his collarbone as he whispered. “I know you didn’t do it intentionally. It’s all my fault. I should have told you about it. I’m sorry, I–”
“Cas, it’s not your fault,” Dean squeezed him tight. He felt relieved when Cas’ arms squeezed him back in turn. “Really. It’s alright. I’m not mad or disappointed. I would never, ever be upset if you wanted to stop. Even if we were in the middle of it.” He needed Cas to understand that, to know that. He’d have to make sure of that, later. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Dean counted Cas’ breaths in the quiet of the room, each one growing more and more steady and sure.
“It hasn’t really been a problem since I moved here,” Cas started. “But…I don’t like people touching it. On the reservation where I grew up, other children would always try to grab it. Even when I hid it in my pants they would try to pull it out. And in Purgatory…” Cas trailed off with a small sigh.
“Is that why you hide it all the time?” Dean whispered. “I mean, I get why you’d keep it hidden when you’re at work or around people you don’t know that well.”
Cas was quiet for a long moment. Dean kept counting his breaths, matching his own breathing to the rhythm of the gentle rise and fall of Cas’ chest.
“I hide it because I don’t want anyone to know about it,” Cas admitted quietly. “The only ones who know are you, Missouri, and Pam.”
“Wait, what?” Dean was shocked. He’d had no idea. “No one else knows? Wait so that means…Oh shit, I’m so, so sorry for barging in that one time. Oh man, you must have been so pissed at me–”
“It’s fine, Dean. I have moved past it,” Cas sat up a bit, raising his head so he could look Dean in the eye. They were still huddled close, arms around each other, whispering into the private space between them. “Of course, I was upset at the time. But now, I am actually thankful that you saw it. It’s how…It’s how I knew you were a good person.”
“Huh? How’d you figure that?”
“You didn’t stare at it or even call attention to it when you saw it,” Cas explained. He looked down and Dean followed his gaze to his lap, where Cas was fidgeting his hands. “You didn’t ridicule me or avoid me. You didn’t even…You never even really mentioned it or asked me about it.”
Dean thought back to the time that he first really met Cas, asking for directions while standing in his garden. The garden he knew so well by now, after countless hours working on his fence. He tried to remember if Cas looked uncomfortable or angry at his privacy being invaded. But all he really remembered from that interaction was…
“To be honest Cas,” Dean said. “I just remember thinking about how hot you were and how pretty your eyes are.”
“What?” Cas looked at him, shocked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Dean smiled, pleased that he was able to diffuse some of the tension and sadness that had settled between them. “And how cute you were when you tilted your head and did that little squinty look you always do.”
Cas squinted at him, “I do not squint.”
“Oh, yes you do,” Dean teased. “And I thought you were totally badass when you casually dropped that you’d escaped from Purgatory.” Damn, was that only two months ago? If anyone had told Dean then that this amazing, kind, gorgeous man would be his boyfriend in just a few weeks, Dean would have laughed in their face and asked them what they’d been smoking.
Cas smiled, the corners of his mouth curving ever so slightly. It was a subtle shift, but for Dean it was a victory banner unfurled, his chest filling with warmth and pride.
“I didn’t mention it before,” Cas admitted softly. “But, please don’t tell anyone about my tail. I don’t want anyone else to know.”
“Of course, Cas,” Dean promised. “I would never. And I haven’t said anything to anyone. I swear.”
Cas nodded. “Thank you, Dean. It’s just that…” Cas looked down at his hands again. He picked at the skin on the side of his thumbnail and Dean was worried he was gonna make himself bleed. So he reached out and gently took Cas’ hand in his own, squeezing it tight because he couldn’t squeeze his heart. “I just really don’t want anyone to know about it. I’m already so different from everyone else. I just…I just want to appear as normal as possible.”
“I’m really sorry,” Dean just had to apologize again, throw himself at Cas’ feet and beg for forgiveness. He felt like the worst piece of shit to ever exist for upsetting him so badly. “I won’t ever try to touch it again.”
Cas nodded, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Although, Cas, you gotta know, it doesn’t bother me. It’d be okay with me if you wanted to have it out when it’s just the two of us.”
Cas didn’t say anything but he looked like he found Dean’s words hard to believe.
“And it’s okay if you don't want to talk about the reservation or Purgatory,” Dean continued. “I get it. I mean, I don’t get it. Just that I get why you wouldn’t want to talk about it. But if you ever want to, I’ll listen.”
Cas looked down at his lap where their hands were wrapped around each other. He ran his thumb over Dean’s knuckles, back and forth like he was trying to rub away a speck of invisible dirt. He started to speak softly and Dean had to lean in closer to hear him.
“I was abandoned at a hospital after my birth,” Cas confessed. “My parents took one look at me and just left me on the front steps. They didn’t even name me. One of the nurses did. It was a Catholic hospital and I was found on a Thursday. So I was named Castiel, in honor of the Angel of Thursdays. No last name, just ‘Castiel’.”
***
The mutant reservation was a bleak place, its dust-choked air thick with the residue of suspicion and fear. Castiel had grown up with the weight of those things, a heavy, invisible burden.
His life on the reservation had been lonely. Other children had instinctively shied away from him, their eyes darting over his unusual skin and the pointed ears that branded him as even more different, even more of a freak. They had either excluded him with cold shoulders or actively tormented him. Castiel was the easiest target, his unnatural appearance and swishing tail a magnet for their cruelty. The adults had offered little solace. The caretakers moved with a weary indifference, their hands dispensing food and instructions with robotic precision. Their eyes glinted with a mix of disdain or resigned pity.
Seeking refuge, Castiel had vanished into the woods, a place no one dared to venture. The other children maintained a wide berth from the fences, the adults instilling a fear of the electrified barriers and the ever-present guards. Armed with a stack of well-worn books, Castiel would spend hours immersed in the tales of adventure that breathed life from the pages. He devoured stories of heroes and forgotten lands, finding solace and companionship within the vibrant worlds crafted by words.
Then there were the visits from the scientists. At irregular intervals, men in sterile white coats would descend upon the reservation, eyes gleaming with a clinical detachment that sent shivers down Castiel's spine. It was a ritual endured by all mutants, a scientific sacrifice at the altar of understanding. They subjected him to endless prods and pokes, needles drawing lines of fear across his skin. They murmured amongst themselves, their words a foreign language of theories and hypotheses. Each visit filled him with dread, a gut-deep fear that he was one test away from a label that screamed "dangerous.”
And when Catiel was fourteen, his worst fear came true.
Castiel had been nestled between the gnarled roots of his favorite oak, rereading a worn copy of "Treasure Island." Sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting a mosaic of light and shadow on the forest floor. The wind rustled through the canopy, carrying the songs of unseen birds. His gaze followed a bright blue jay as it darted through the branches, effortlessly clearing the fence and landing on the other side. In that moment, a yearning for freedom, a desire as vast as the sky beyond the barrier, surged through Castiel's chest.
It began with a spark, a tingling sensation that crackled beneath his skin like trapped lightning. Then, with a gasp and a blur of motion, the world around him dissolved. When his vision cleared, he found himself sprawled on the ground, the familiar oak replaced by a tangle of barbed wire fences. He had teleported beyond the fence, into the barren no man’s land beyond.
Panic, cold and clammy, gripped him. This new ability felt like a loaded gun pressed against his temple. He knew the whispers on the reservation, the hushed tales of "dangerous mutations" and the one-way ticket to Purgatory they earned.
So, Castiel locked his secret away, burying it deep in his heart. He clung to the shadows, a ghost flickering at the edges of his own life, forever fearing the day when his mutation would become his life sentence.
He was twenty when they found out.
The scientists came and he was ushered to the examination room like all the others. Castiel had grown used to the tests by then. They had always been obsessed with his unique ability to heal. Countless vials of blood had been extracted from his arm. They made minute incisions, their faces intent as they meticulously timed how long it took for the red lines to fade. They fed him unfamiliar pills and liquids, their scrutinizing gaze fixed upon him as they scribbled data onto their clipboards, their pens scratching like hungry insects. Castiel had learned to suppress his questions, the answers often met with hushed reprimands.
But this day was different. A nurse, her face grim beneath her starched cap, inserted an IV into his arm. The scientists gathered closer, their anxious energy filling the room as a clear, unknown liquid dripped into his veins. Castiel, a seasoned prisoner of routine, closed his eyes and sought comfort in his usual escape, the pages of his favorite stories. He envisioned himself alongside Captain Nemo, navigating the depths of the ocean in the Nautilus, or battling pirates with Long John Silver. He even imagined himself shipwrecked with Robinson Crusoe, braving the perils of his island home.
Yet, as he lay on the cold table, a primordial fear began to gnaw at him. Something felt irrevocably wrong. A searing sensation ignited in his arm, the liquid transforming into a raging inferno that consumed his insides. Panic seized him, his desperate pleas for them to stop, to extricate the IV, falling on deaf ears. He thrashed against the restraints, their grip on his wrists and ankles an iron vice. He felt like he was dissolving from within, his insides collapsing into black hole that threatened to consume him. The only thought that fueled him was escape, a desperate need to break free. And with that final, frantic yearning, he was gone.
Castiel found himself sprawled on the ground outside the clinic, the crisp night air a harsh contrast to the sterile laboratory. He gasped for breath, the IV ripped from his arm leaving behind a stinging reminder of his ordeal. The fire within him still flickered, but it was slowly waning, mirroring the pounding of his racing heart.
It didn’t take them long to find him. He was too weak, too exhausted to stand up, let alone put up a fight as they dragged him back inside. It didn’t take them long to transfer him to Purgatory either.
Purgatory was a nightmare, a desolate place devoid of hope. Castiel was imprisoned in solitary confinement, his body constricted by metal collar designed to thwart his teleportation abilities. The metal dug into his skin, a constant reminder of his captivity.
He endured this torturous existence for a brief period before the true horrors of Purgatory were unveiled. One night, the grim guards extracted him from his cell, their silence heavy with unspoken threats. They herded him through sterile corridors, the flickering fluorescent lights casting long, ominous shadows, until they reached a room deep within the prison's bowels.
The sight that greeted him was enough to curdle his blood. The room was transformed into a grotesque arena, its walls lined with a humming, electrified cage. In this depraved coliseum, mutants were forced to fight one another, their struggles broadcast for the twisted amusement of wealthy patrons who gambled on the outcome like Roman Emperors betting on gladiators. Castiel, who had never even raised a fist in anger, was paralyzed with terror.
His first opponent was a sight that sent shivers down his spine, a terrifying man who possessed the ability to morph into a colossal black snake. The creature lunged at Castiel with unbridled ferocity, its strike wounding his shoulder and leaving him sprawled, helpless on the floor. While his body would eventually mend, the searing pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The terror left him disoriented and unable to defend himself. He instinctively teleported to dodge each attack, but the snake-man was agile and far more seasoned in combat.
Desperate for escape, Castiel teleported out of the cage and bolted for the nearest exit. His bid for freedom was short-lived. The guards recaptured him with ruthless efficiency. They rained blows upon his already battered body, their cruelty a chilling testament to the depravity that festered within these walls. Castiel, broken and defeated, was hurled back into his cell, the echo of his own ragged breaths the only solace in the suffocating darkness.
For the first time, Castiel considered taking his own life.
Castiel huddled in the corner of his cramped cell, his body a canvas of raw pain, tears streaming down his face. A series of choked sobs wracked his frame, his despair echoing through the sterile silence.
Suddenly, a voice, pierced the quiet. "Yeah, I hear ya," it rasped, echoing through the small space. "My first fight was rough too. Better to let it all out now, 'cause they'll be back to throw you in the pit soon enough."
Castiel's heart stuttered in his chest. He whipped his head around, searching frantically for the source of the voice. "What?" he stammered, a tremor in his voice. "Who–who are you?"
"I'm your new neighbor," the voice chuckled, a hint of amusement laced with cynicism. "Call me Meg. I know it's your first time and all, so I'll cut you some slack, but you better not be cryin' like that every night. Girl's gotta get her beauty sleep."
Castiel crawled towards the vent from which the voice emanated. He squinted through the narrow opening, but the darkness on the other side revealed nothing. "You... how long have you been here?" he croaked, his voice hoarse.
"Hmmm, tough to say..." Meg drawled, her voice taking on a contemplative tone. "A year? Maybe a year and a half? Who knows, does it matter? What's your name, kid?"
"My name is Castiel," he corrected, straightening his posture despite the throbbing pain, "and I am not a child. I am twenty years old."
"Ptfffff," she scoffed, a sharp, humorless laugh. "Yeah, definitely still a kid."
Castiel bristled, his cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and frustration. "Well, how old are you then?" he challenged.
"Hey! Don't you know it's bad manners to ask a woman her age? Geez, who raised you?" she retorted, feigning offense.
"No one raised me," Castiel replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "I was sent to a reservation shortly after my birth, and no one there wished to adopt me. So, I was taken care of by the caretakers until I was old enough to manage myself."
A brief silence followed, broken only by the faint hum of distant machinery. Then, Meg spoke, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "Damn, that's pretty tragic, kid. And then you got sent here? Phew, tough break, Clarence."
Castiel frowned. "That is not my name," he began, but Meg cut him off.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she dismissed him. "Anyway, how'd you like your first fight? Who'd they make you go against?"
"I… I didn't catch his name," Castiel stammered, the memory of the fight sending a fresh wave of nausea washing over him.
She erupted into a fit of laughter, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the cell. "Holy shit, Clarence, you are a riot!"
Castiel slumped back against the wall, defeated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to continue this conversation, yet the sound of her voice, however grating, provided a strange sense of connection in this desolate world. Besides, talking distracted him from the throbbing pain in his battered body.
"You said… that they'll be back soon enough," he started cautiously. "What did you mean by that? Do they… do they make us fight like that every night?"
"Not every night," she responded, her voice losing its playful edge. "Depends. But generally, you can expect to go in a couple times a month."
Castiel's stomach lurched. The reality of his situation hit him like a physical blow, and he felt a fresh wave of tears welling up in his eyes. "But why?" he pleaded, his voice cracking with despair. "Why would they do that? It's barbaric! It's like… they're treating us like animals instead of human beings! And just because we're mutants? I didn't want this! I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask to be born a freak!"
He choked on a sob, tears streaming down his face. He wasn't sure if Meg was even still listening, but he poured out his anguish into the empty space, his voice thick with emotion. As his sobs subsided into whimpers and hiccups, his tears drying due to sheer exhaustion, a soft voice broke the silence.
"That's what they want, Clarence," Meg said, her voice surprisingly gentle yet laced with a deep-seated bitterness. "They treat us like animals so that we’ll fight like animals.”
Her voice, strong before, wavered with a hint of sadness. Castiel knew then that she was just as trapped and broken as he was.
Meg became Castiel's very first friend. Though they couldn't see each other, their voices echoed through the vents, forging an unlikely bond. Every day, Castiel awaited their conversations, a lifeline in the sea of his despair. Without Meg's gruff humor and shared experiences, he was certain he would have succumbed to the crushing isolation.
Over time, Meg helped him navigate the grim reality of Purgatory. They forced almost everyone here to fight, even her. Surprisingly skilled in the brutal cage matches, she became Castiel's unlikely mentor, offering encouragement and battle tactics for facing other mutants. The first fight had left him broken, but desperation fueled a newfound resolve. He honed his body, pushing himself to his limits with grueling exercises in his cell.
Castiel's teleportation ability became his trump card. He learned to dodge with an uncanny swiftness, disappearing and reappearing behind his opponents for surprise attacks. His natural strength, further enhanced by his rigorous training, allowed him to overpower many. The greatest advantage, however, was his healing ability. Unlike others who needed extensive recovery time, Castiel could bounce back quickly. However, it was a double-edged-sword. The fact that he could heal so quickly made him a prime contender for the barbaric entertainment of the unseen audience.
Days bled into weeks, weeks into months, then years. The cycle of brutal fights and isolating confinement became a grim routine. Three long years passed, each one a testament to Castiel's growing strength and the hardening shell he was forced to build around his heart. Yet, a flicker of defiance still burned within him, fueled by the hope of one day escaping this purgatory and reclaiming his freedom.
For years, a shared yearning for escape had simmered between Castiel and Meg, growing stronger with each passing day. The prison's layout remained a frustrating mystery, their movements restricted by the ever-present guards and the dampening device around Castiel's neck. However, during his forced participation in the cage matches, a daring plan began to take shape.
While seemingly focused on the brutal fight at hand, Castiel would subtly teleport outside of the cage, fleetingly exploring the labyrinth of corridors. Each glimpse, each stolen moment, pieced together a fragmented map of the prison. Meg had long suspected that they were buried deep beneath the earth's surface, a suspicion finally confirmed when Castiel stumbled upon a network of access elevators leading upwards. And with that discovery, their plan could finally be set in motion.
The day finally arrived. Castiel and Meg, their hearts pounding in unison, awaited their carefully orchestrated match. They put on a good show, exchanging fists and blows to ensure no one would be suspicious of their plan. When the moment arrived, Meg unleashed her powers, creating a storm of electricity that plunged their sector of the prison into darkness. In the ensuing pandemonium, Castiel and Meg vanished in a blink, their teleportation undetected amidst the confusion.
They navigated the darkened corridors, evading startled guards with practiced efficiency. Their objective: the elevators leading to the elusive surface. After a tense chase and a well-placed strike from Meg, they reached their goal. Freedom, tantalizingly close, spurred them onward. They overpowered the remaining guards and clambered into the ascending elevator, a glimmer of hope flickering in their eyes.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans. As the elevator neared the top it lurched and halted, frozen in the air. The telltale alarm pierced their ears. Trapped, they scrambled to pry open the grate above, a desperate bid for escape. Emerging from the elevator, they found themselves suspended precariously in the darkened shaft, escape seemingly impossible. There was only one way to go, only one option left.
Fear gnawed at Castiel. He disliked teleporting blindly. Who knows what could be awaiting them at the top of the shaft? However, the urgency of their situation left them with no other choice.
Meg grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight, and she started to speak.
“Remember the sunshine, Clarence? How it felt to lie in the grass on a warm day? The feeling of the sun beating down on your skin? We’re so close. We’re almost there. You gotta take us across the finish line, kid.”
Taking a deep breath, Castiel focused on the mental image Meg had painted for him. He wanted to see the sun again, the grass, the trees. He wanted to plant a garden full of beautiful flowers, so that he could stare at them all day. So that he could smell their fresh scent and pick fruits off their trees and live.
With a surge of determination, he channeled his power, praying it would be enough. The air shimmered around them, and in a flash, the darkness gave way to light.
Castiel emerged with Meg, blinking against the unfamiliar brilliance of the night sky. Stars, a sight they hadn't seen in years, twinkled like scattered diamonds. The crisp night air filled their lungs, a stark contrast to the stale, recycled air of Purgatory. For a precious moment, they simply stood there, basking in the unexpected freedom, a silent celebration of their daring escape.
But they were instantly snapped back to the present. The sounds of sirens and guards erupted from the compound they had just escaped. They fled into the dense woods, the distant shouts of pursuing guards echoed through the trees.
Adrenaline propelled them forward, their senses on high alert. They weaved through the undergrowth, dodging snapping twigs and unseen obstacles. Yet, fate seemed to have turned against them. A gunshot shattered the night, the sharp crack splitting the air. Meg stumbled, a crimson stain blooming on her chest.
Castiel scrambled to Meg's side, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. "Meg, no!" he roared, his voice raw with anguish. Tears streamed down his face, blurring the sight of the blood spreading across her chest like a macabre flower. They had promised each other, a sacred pact forged in the darkness of Purgatory. They would escape this hell together, breathe the sweet air of freedom together.
Meg's face, once vibrant and alive with defiance, was now ashen, her features etched with a heartbreaking mix of pain and resignation. Her hand, weak and trembling, reached out to cup his cheek. He grabbed her hand and held it to his face even as the other tried desperately to suppress the blood flowing from her chest with her every breath.
"Castiel," she rasped, her voice a mere whisper among labored breaths. "Go. You… have to… live."
He shook his head vehemently, tears blurring his vision until the world seemed to dissolve with his grief. "No, Meg! We get out of this together, just like we planned. We promised! We…we…"
Meg's grip tightened. "There's no time… for goodbyes," she croaked, her voice cracking with the effort. "Remember… Eden Falls… that was always… the plan."
Her hand went limp in his grasp. A final, shuddering breath escaped her lips, and her eyes, once filled with fire and defiance, fluttered closed forever.
Castiel held her, sobbing and begging. It wasn’t fair! They were finally free, after all this time. After everything they talked about and planned together, he was all alone again. He couldn’t do this without her. He had never had a friend before Meg, and he hadn’t thought he’d needed one. But, now, how was he supposed to live without her? How was he supposed to live?
The sounds of footsteps, the voices of the guards drew ever closer. But Castiel couldn’t leave her, he couldn’t.
Grief threatened to consume Castiel, but Meg's final words spurred him into action. He knew, with a horrifying certainty, that he couldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain. Gathering the remnants of his strength, he unleashed a surge of raw power, channeling Meg's memory into a desperate plea. Just as the guards surrounded him, Castiel traveled miles away in a single instant.
When the morning came and he saw the sun again for the first time in years he wept again. Meg’s body had long since gone stiff and cold, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go as he welcomed the sunrise through his tears.
He buried her in the woods under a large oak tree. Castiel swore that he would carry her memory with him, a constant reminder of the life she had given him, a life he now vowed to cherish and use to its fullest.
Months passed of solitude and cautious living. Castiel navigated the wilderness, seeking refuge in abandoned buildings and deserted corners of the world. He carried the weight of his loss, yet Meg's final words echoed in his mind, urging him towards a future he could never have imagined. Finally, driven by a mix of grief and hope, he found himself at the town of Eden Falls. It was the place Meg had dreamed of, a potential haven where they could be free. Even if they weren’t here together, Castiel was determined to make the most out of the chance at life she had given him.
***
Castiel’s voice trailed off, the weight of his past settling between them. He'd talked for so long, his voice growing hoarse, each word scraping against his raw throat. Throughout his tragic, humiliating tale, Dean had remained a silent, stoic figure. He hadn’t interrupted, creating a safe haven for Castiel's confession to flow freely. It felt like Castiel was pouring out his heart's blood, each syllable a painful reminder of his past. But through it all, Dean's hand remained firmly clasped in his own. Their intertwined fingers were a source of strength, allowing Castiel to finally share the burdens he'd held for so long.
They sat together on the bed in silence, leaning into each other, hands bound tightly together like threads tied into a single knot. Time stretched, the minutes blurring together as each breath carried the echo of the past, slowly dissipating in the present. Against his will, a yawn escaped Castiel, tinged with exhaustion.
“Cas, do you want me to head out or…?” Dean’s voice was quiet, tentative, respecting the delicate balance of the moment.
Castiel looked up, his eyes searching Dean’s. “Or?” he murmured.
Dean smiled gently. “Or I could stay over, if you want?”
A beat of silence, then a whisper, “What about Claire?”
“Claire’s seventeen,” Dean smiled, rolling his eyes playfully. “She can handle being alone for the night.”
Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand again, the unspoken message clear.
Dean smiled, warm and bright. “Then it’s settled. Let’s get some sleep.” Castiel felt Dean squeeze his hand, the warmth seeping into his bones, a silent promise of comfort.
Castiel retrieved a new set of clothes from his dresser and carried them into the bathroom, leaving Dean alone in the bedroom. He shut the door firmly behind himself and exhaled a sigh. He heard Dean’s footsteps carry him downstairs. Maybe to get a glass of water before bed or to text Claire that he was staying over, Castiel didn’t know.
As the sounds of Dean’s footsteps faded away, Castiel undressed in the privacy of the bathroom. He removed his shirt and pants but then paused as his fingers grazed the medical tape and bandages firmly anchoring his tail to his leg. Every evening, the release was a small ritual, a relief. He slowly unwound the bandages and peeled away the tape, setting his tail free from its prison.
Normally, he would stretch it out. It was taxing and often painful to keep it confined all day, especially if he was doing a lot of sitting. But tonight, Castiel could only look at his tail in disgust. Despite Dean’s assurances, the bathroom mirror clearly presented the reality of his nature. Staring at his reflection, Castiel felt a familiar pang of self-consciousness. Not for the first time, he moved his tail until it was hidden behind his leg, until it couldn’t be seen in his reflection. Castiel stared into the mirror. His reflection was tired, his cheeks ruddy and stained from all his tears.
Castiel’s heart ached as he imagined what could have been. If he didn’t have his tail, he and Dean could have found their pleasure together. If his skin was normal and his ears were normal then maybe he and Dean could go for drives outside of town. Dean could take him to a real movie theater or even to the ocean. If he looked normal, like Dean and Sam, Charlie and Gabriel and everyone else, then maybe he could…
With a soft sigh, he pulled on his sweatpants. The clothes he wore at home had holes in the waistbands that he sewed himself for him to pull his tail through. It was much more comfortable that way. But he couldn’t do that tonight. Dean had seen it once, yet the raw vulnerability from his confession made him keep it hidden in the loose leg of his sweatpants.
Castiel walked into the bedroom, a hesitant pause in his step. Dean sat on the bed in his T-shirt and boxers. He must have gone downstairs to retrieve his shirt from wherever it had ended up after he flung it off to the side. Heat flared in Castiel’s chest at the memory, a constellation of unfamiliar feelings igniting beneath his ribs.
“I didn’t know which side you sleep on,” Dean said, his voice quiet and uncertain.
Castiel fumbled for a reply. “Oh, I uh… that side, I suppose.” He had never slept in the same bed as someone else before. He didn’t realize there were designated “sides.”
Dean smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Okay.” He patted the other side of the bed, a silent invitation.
Castiel walked around to what was now “his side” and eased onto the bed, the mattress sighing beneath their weight. Dean had turned off the light in the hallway, so the room was dark, only soft starlight drifting in from the windows, leaving just the quiet intimacy of shared breaths. Castiel felt Dean reach out, their hands finding each other in the darkness. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes, weaving a spell of silent reassurance.
Even in the darkness of the room, Castiel could tell Dean was looking at him, that he wanted to say something. Castiel squeezed his hand. He wasn’t sure what sort of message he was trying to convey, but it seemed like the signal Dean had been waiting for.
"Cas," he started. Dean’s voice was barely a whisper, rough with emotion. "Thank you. Thank you for trusting me enough to share that. Not everyone gets to hear a story like that, you know?" He paused and Castiel heard him inhale. "And what a story it is. It's... a lot to take in, that's for sure. But you know what else it is? It's proof. Proof of how strong you are, how much you've overcome. You've been through hell, Cas, and you're still standing. And you know what? Meg would be so proud of you. I know it. She’d be really, really proud of you." Dean squeezed Castiel's hand tighter, his thumb running a comforting circle across the back.
A warmth, unfamiliar and foreign, blossomed in Castiel's chest. Dean's words, each one laced with sincerity and unwavering support, washed over him like a cleansing wave. He had never considered the narrative of his existence from that perspective. Strength? He had never seen himself as strong, merely enduring. Yet, Dean's belief in him illuminated something within Castiel.
The realization hit him with a force he couldn't quite comprehend. He was falling. Falling for the man beside him. Dean, who thought Castiel was attractive, who thought he was strong, who liked watching movies with him and built him a fence to protect his garden and who listened patiently while Castiel poured out all his traumas like water leaking from a cracked dam, and thanked him for it. Castiel’s breath caught in his throat and his heart stopped as he realized.
Oh. I love him.
Notes:
TL;DR:
Trigger warnings are listed below for your reference:
Violence: Physical assault, injury, forced medical procedures
Imprisonment: Solitary confinement, forced fighting
Content Advisory: This chapter contains a scene depicting the beginning of sexual intimacy that is interrupted by a character getting upset and feeling insecure and believing that it is their fault.
Death: Minor character deathCastiel and Dean are getting frisky when Dean accidentally touches his tail and Cas freaks out. Dean calms him down and Cas tells him about his backstory. Cas grew up on a mutant reservation and was subjected to scientific experiements. He is eventually transferred to Purgatory, where he was forced to fight other mutants. Castiel and Meg, unlikely friends forged in the brutal prison of Purgatory, finally escape. But freedom comes at a cost. Meg sacrifices herself to allow Castiel to reach the Eden Falls, leaving him forever grateful to her.
Chapter 11
Notes:
Hello,
Sorry, this took over a year, I have no excuse. This chapter has been half-finished for a while, but life's distractions got in the way. Shoutout mental illness.Thank you so much to the people who are still reading and enjoying. I promise to make the effort to come back to this and update more regularly. All the comments and support I've received have really meant a lot, so thank you <3 Enjoy!
Chapter Text
Castiel stirred awake, the remnants of sleep clinging to him like cobwebs. Mid-morning light streamed through the windows, bathing the room in a warm glow. A moment of grogginess passed before the events of the previous night crashed into him like a wave. He buried his face in his pillow and let out an exhausted groan.
He had never intended to keep his past a secret from Dean or any of his other friends. But he simply hadn't spoken about Meg before. When he'd first arrived in Eden Falls, her memory had been too raw. It had felt like pulling teeth to give Pam and Missouri anything more than the bare bones of his backstory. Then, as time passed, he settled in, built a life, and made friends. But somewhere along the way, talking about Meg had become a forgotten path, her story locked away in his heart.
It had been difficult to speak of her last night. He certainly hadn’t planned to. But once Castiel had started talking, the words had tumbled out, a dam finally breaking after a long silence. He couldn't stop the flood of emotions and memories from overwhelming him. But somehow, now he felt a bit lighter, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest. There was a strange sense of relief, a comfort in knowing there was another person out there who knew her story, besides him.
Castiel sat up in bed and rubbed at his eyes. A delicious aroma wafting up from downstairs pulled him from his thoughts. He padded down the stairs, bare feet whispering against the smooth wood floors. When he reached the bottom step, he was greeted by the sight of Dean in his kitchen, spatula in hand, expertly flipping what smelled like a generous portion of bacon.
Dean, clad in yesterday's clothes, stood with his back to Castiel, the sounds of clanging pots filling the kitchen. A wave of heat washed over Castiel as the memory of their shared intimacy the previous night flooded back. He remembered the surprise he felt when Dean first removed his shirt, and Castiel had seen the intricate artwork of tattoos adorning Dean's arms and torso that he hadn’t known existed. He had been utterly captivated, unable to tear his gaze away then, and the feeling remained just as potent now. As his eyes traveled over the outline of Dean’s broad shoulders, Castiel remembered how it felt to circle his arms around him, how it felt when Dean pressed kisses into his neck, and how it felt when Dean wrapped his hand around him, sending shocks of pleasure through his system like bolts of lightning.
Castiel stood there, momentarily speechless, lost in memory. The simple act of waking up to Dean cooking breakfast in his kitchen, of sharing this quiet domesticity, sent a thrilling jolt through him. This might be something he could have every morning. The thought was intoxicating. A truth dawned on him, a realization that settled in his gut with a profound certainty. This wasn't just affection, not simply physical attraction. He was falling for Dean. Hard. Fast. The speed of it felt disorienting. Was there even a timeframe for love? He had no compass for these uncharted waters.
Dean finally noticed Castiel as he turned around, setting a pan aside with a clatter. Their eyes met, and a smile, as warm and radiant as the first sunrise Castiel had witnessed after escaping Purgatory, split Dean’s face in two.
"Morning, sleepyhead!" Dean's booming voice shattered the peaceful morning silence. His enthusiasm was overwhelming at this early hour. "I thought you were gonna sleep in all day. Seriously, man, I tried to wake you up, but you were out cold."
Castiel winced internally. Oh dear. Dean was a morning person. He mentally retracted all his previous thoughts on waking up with Dean like this every morning.
"Did you go to the store?" Castiel managed to ask, his voice slightly raspy from sleep. A glance around the kitchen confirmed his suspicions. There wasn't a single ingredient in sight that he recognized. Frankly, it was a little embarrassing how bare his kitchen cupboards were.
"Yup," Dean replied, flipping pancakes with one hand and stacking them on a plate. "Got up early and saw you didn't have much of anything. So, I figured I might as well do a supply run. Left you a note, but you were still dead to the world when I got back. So, I just let you be. Thought you could use the extra sleep after last night."
Heat flooded Castiel's cheeks as the memory flared back to life. Before he could stammer out a response, Dean continued, oblivious.
"Anyway, breakfast is almost ready." Another golden stack of fluffy pancakes joined its brethren on the plate. "How many strips of bacon do you want?"
"Um…two, please," Castiel mumbled, still flustered.
"Coming right up!" Dean's voice was cheerful as he busied himself plating the food. He'd even brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Castiel gravitated towards the machine, whose rich aroma filled the air.
"Wasn't sure how you like it, black? With cream? I can give you some whisky if you want to have some extra fun at work today." Dean added with a sly smile.
Castiel managed a weak smile. "Lifesaver," he murmured as he shuffled over to the cabinet to retrieve a mug. He poured himself a cup and took a long, heavenly sip.
As Castiel leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee, he couldn't help but steal a glance at Dean's back. There he was, moving with practiced ease around the kitchen. The sight sent a warmth blooming in Castiel's chest. Dean looked...happy. At home. And for some inexplicable reason, that made Castiel incredibly happy, too.
Dean thumped the plates down on the table, the clatter sending a jolt through Castiel. He hesitantly lowered himself into the chair opposite, his gaze drawn to the heaping portion of pancakes and crispy bacon. A small dish sat nestled between them, full of golden maple syrup. Dean wasted no time digging into his food. He attacked his pancakes with gusto, each bite so absurdly large, Castiel wasn’t sure how he didn’t choke.
For a while, they ate in comfortable silence. Castiel savored the rich coffee, the warmth spreading through him and waking him up bit by bit. He'd braced himself for an awkward atmosphere, but to his surprise, a sense of easy camaraderie settled between them. Once his system was sufficiently fueled by caffeine, they drifted into conversation, exchanging pleasantries about the weather and Castiel's garden.
Castiel wasn't sure if Dean was open to discussing the previous night's events. So, it came as a surprise when Dean spoke up as they scraped the last remnants of their breakfast from their plates.
"Cas," Dean began, his voice sincere, "I meant what I said last night. Thanks for telling me all that..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "It wasn't easy, I'm sure. How’re you doing?"
Castiel met his gaze. "I... I am alright," he answered. "But you are correct. Talking about Meg was very difficult. Even after five years, there's still a part of me that... that misses her."
Dean nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that. I miss my dad too. Been about three years, and usually I'm okay, but sometimes it just hits you out of nowhere." Castiel was surprised by this admission. Dean had mentioned his father's passing in the past, but he rarely spoke of him.
"Yes," Castiel continued, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder what she'd be like now, what path she would have chosen for herself. Freedom was all she craved. And sometimes, I just suddenly miss her so strongly..." His voice trailed off, thick with emotion.
A comforting warmth flooded Castiel as Dean reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining like threads of fate.
"If you ever wanna talk about her more," Dean offered softly, his voice laced with sincerity, "I'll listen."
"Thank you, Dean," Castiel replied, his voice thick with gratitude. "And the offer extends to you as well. Should you ever wish to speak of your father, I will lend you my ear."
Dean met his gaze, a flicker of something that looked like vulnerability passing over his features. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before averting his eyes, a deep sigh escaping his lips.
"There's not much to tell, honestly," Dean mumbled, his usual bravado faltering for a rare moment. "Our relationship wasn't the best. He was a good dad when we were little, even for a while after Mom passed away. But then he started drinking more and more, every day. He never hit us or anything, but…" He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. "He wasn’t an easy person to be around. Looking back… yeah, it wasn't a good situation."
Castiel could read between the lines of what Dean wasn’t saying. He nodded, squeezing Dean’s hand in solidarity. They sat in companionable silence for a long while, the only sound the rhythmic hum of Castiel's refrigerator.
“There’s something else we should really talk about,” Dean started again. “Cas, look, I know what it feels like to be forced into doing stuff you don’t want to do.” Oh god, was Dean saying that he’d been– “And I don’t ever want to make you feel that way. Maybe we went a little fast last night–”
“No!” Castiel burst out. He couldn’t let Dean think that he was not willing, that he had been forced. “Dean, I wanted it. I initiated intimacy with you because it was what I wanted . I didn’t mean to make you think that–”
“No, I get it,” Dean interrupted his frantic rambling. “I know you were into it. I mean, until you weren’t. I guess what I'm saying is that if that ever happens again, if you ever want to stop for any reason, I would never be upset by that. I would never be mad or disappointed. Last night you kept saying that you ruined it, and I just need you to know that you didn’t ruin anything.”
Castiel wasn’t sure what to say. He was thankful to hear that Dean was not upset with him. But…
“I guess,'' Castiel hesitated, searching for the right words. “I was more upset at myself. I should have told you that I didn’t want you to touch me there. I just didn’t think about it. It was my fault–”
“That’s what I'm saying,” Dean cut in again. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s not your fault that you didn’t think to tell me. It wasn’t your fault that what happened, happened. I don’t want you to blame yourself, or think that I blame you, ‘cause I don't. I am sorry for freaking you out that much, though.”
Castiel let Dean’s words sink in. “I don’t blame you either,” Castiel spoke softly. “I know you didn’t do it intentionally.”
“Thanks,” Dean smiled, relieved. Castiel couldn’t help but smile in return. “And like I said, I won't try to touch you there again. Although…I have to say that it’ll be a little hard to resist. I mean, your ass looks so good in those cargo pants.” Dean smirked, his eyes giving Castiel an obvious assessment. He felt his face grow warm and looked down at their intertwined hands to avoid the heat of Dean’s gaze. Despite everything, he was still not accustomed to the fact that Dean so obviously found him attractive. Castiel did enjoy it, even though he didn’t fully understand it.
“Dean,” Castiel squirmed in his seat. “Do you mind if, in light of the events of last night, we keep taking things slow? It made me realize that I am not sure if I am comfortable with completely undressing in front of you yet.”
“Yeah, Cas. We’ll go at whatever pace you want.”
“Thank you.”
Dean chuckled. “You don't gotta thank me for that. I’m a big boy. I can handle not having sex.”
Castiel paused. “And you would be satisfied with that?”
“To be honest, I’m a simple guy,” Dean smiled. “As long as we can make out, I’m pretty happy.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Castiel agreed. “Kissing you also makes me extremely happy.” For some reason, this made Dean throw back his head and burst out laughing. Castiel felt his smile growing wider, sharing in all of Dean’s joy.
***
Dean practically skipped through the cabin door, a wide grin plastered on his face. He'd just spent all morning hanging out with Cas until they both had to go to work. Dean had insisted on giving Cas a ride, but Cas had refused, saying he still had to take a shower and get ready and didn’t want to make Dean any later than he already was. Bobby tended to open the shop at whatever time he felt like it, but Dean had to shower and change as well, so they parted ways.
Things with Cas couldn't be better. They'd talked things through, a mature conversation worthy of a gold star (thanks a lot, invisible-but-always-nagging Sam). Dean felt fantastic about where they stood. Dean was still reeling a bit from what Cas had spilled to him last night. Man, that was intense. He’d known, in a sort of far-off sense, that Cas had been through some shit while he was in Purgatory. It was called Purgatory for Christ’s sake. But still, hearing what it was actually like, hearing everything that he’d been through, Cas had been so strong, so unbreakable. Dean was just constantly amazed by him.
On one hand, Dean was thankful that Cas had trusted him enough to share all that. On the other hand, it made Dean feel incredibly guilty. When Cas had mentioned Dean opening up about his father, he’d been too unprepared to do anything other than pitifully avoid the topic. But if Cas could do it, Dean could do it too. Dean should do it. He should tell Cas. Well, maybe not about everything. Dean had a lot of baggage that was labeled “Toxic: Do not open” that he’d locked away and shoved into the corner of his mind. But some boxes in that pile were relevant to Cas, things that he really should tell him.
Taking things slow, hovering somewhere between first and second base, was all well and good. For now. But… the guilty, hollow feeling in his gut grew bigger and bigger at just the thought of Cas finding out by accident while they were, well, getting busy. Worse, what if something happened, and in the heat of the moment, Dean accidentally…
Yeah, Dean definitely needed to tell him. But the problem was that he just didn't know how. He'd never had to explain this to anyone before. Sure, he'd told Lisa enough to keep Ben safe. And he’d told Claire the basics, that he could take people's powers away. Crowley figured all that shit out on his own, so all Dean’d had to do was play along. But this was different. He'd have to lay it all out for Cas—the whole enchilada. The thought churned his stomach, leaving him nauseous.
And then there was Sam. Dean knew he needed to tell him, too. Eventually. But the details? No way in hell was he giving Sam a play-by-play of how his powers worked or how he'd discovered them. Not even if pigs sprouted wings.
So, even though their night together had gotten a little derailed, Dean felt like they were back on track. He strutted into the cabin with a spring in his step, only to find Claire sprawled on the couch, gnawing on some chips with her eyes glued to the TV. She glanced up, taking in his smug expression.
"Hey there, slut," Claire drawled, a smirk twisting her lips. "Little late to be out for a walk of shame, ain't it?"
Dean paused, eyebrows pinching together as he hung his keys on the hook by the door. "What's your problem, blondie? Can't a guy enjoy some quality time with his boyfriend?"
Claire scoffed. "Ugh, you two are so gross. It's like watching a never-ending Hallmark movie. When's the honeymoon phase gonna wear off, and you stop being attached at the hip? You know, just because you're in a relationship doesn't mean you have to forget how to be an individual."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. "Don't project your teenage angst onto me. I'm just—" He stopped short, Claire's words finally sinking in. "Wait a minute... is that jealousy I hear?"
Claire's jaw dropped, but the telltale flush creeping up her neck confirmed his suspicions. "What! Jealous? Of you?" she sputtered, her voice reaching an octave higher than usual. "Why the hell would I be jealous of some lovesick idiot?"
"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" Dean poked his tongue out at her. "Aww, have I been neglecting you with all this Cas time? Did you get lonely?" He reached out a hand to ruffle her hair just to annoy her.
"Shut up!" Claire swatted at him ineffectually. "Who would want to spend time with a jerk like you anyway?"
"You, apparently.”
Claire glared at him, but before she could fire back another insult, Dean cut her off. "Look, Claire, when I took you in, I made you a promise. Just ‘cause Cas and I are getting closer doesn't mean I'm forgetting about you. Not even a little bit."
Claire scoffed. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't need you anymore," she retorted, crossing her arms defensively. "Ever think about that? I'm practically an adult now. I'll be eighteen soon. It's not like you're my dad or anything. Why should I care who you fuck?"
"Because we're family, remember?" Dean said gently.
Claire's eyes narrowed. "You don't mean that. Sam, he's your real family. And Cas is your boyfriend now. I'm just some stray you picked up and helped out. Those fake IDs we use don't magically make us blood relatives."
"Claire—" Dean began, but she cut him off again.
"Whatever. Fine," she mumbled, turning her attention back to the TV with a huff. "Go spend the night getting fucked up the ass. See if I care."
Dean frowned at the back of her head, at a loss for what to do, before an idea sparked in his mind. "Hey, how about we do something together this weekend?"
"What? Were you even listening to a word I said?" Claire snapped, tearing her gaze away from the screen.
"Nah, zoned right out after the 'fake ID' part," Dean admitted with a grin. "So, what do you say? Up for an adventure tomorrow?"
Claire wrinkled her nose. "Like what? I'm not exactly thrilled about staying in and watching your lame old movies all day."
A triumphant smirk spread across Dean's face, reveling in the fact that he'd managed to turn the conversation around. "Alright, alright, first of all," he began, " Star Wars is not even that old, but whatever. Second, back-to-school shopping spree! How does that sound?" Dean clapped his hands together. He was actually getting a little excited by his impromptu idea.
Claire still looked utterly confused. "Huh?" she managed, blinking at him. Her thick eyeliner made her look like a confused raccoon.
"School's starting in a few weeks, right?" Dean explained. "So, I figured it's high time you upgraded your wardrobe. Plus, notebooks, pens, all that jazz."
"But where would we even go shopping?" Claire grumbled, gesturing towards the window. "There's, like, two whole stores in this town."
Dean shrugged nonchalantly. "We'll take a trip to a city. Hit the mall, maybe. Big city shopping adventure!"
Claire bit her lip, a flicker of indecision crossing her features. She looked away, muttering, "I'm still mad at you, you jerk."
Dean rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. But listen, Claire, I meant what I said. You're my family. You always will be, no matter what."
Claire mumbled a noncommittal response, her gaze glued to the television screen. Undeterred, Dean pressed on with a grin. "I can even chauffeur your friends around if they want to join. Just tell them they'll be driven by the one and only Dean Winchester, coolest dude ever. How bout it?"
Claire remained silent for a moment, but Dean could tell she was secretly contemplating his offer. He stood beside the couch, waiting patiently.
"Fine," she conceded, her voice laced with mock defeat. "But if you do anything remotely embarrassing in front of my friends, I’ll tell Cas that you have gonorrhea." She narrowed her eyes at him, the threat hanging in the air. “ Again .”
"Hey, no promises," Dean countered with a wink, relishing her small concession. A win's a win. “Besides, Cas has some super-powered healing mutation. Dude’s never even caught a cold before. But, sure, go ahead.”
Claire shot him a final glare before turning back to the TV and cranking the volume up to an ear-splitting level. Dean huffed out a sigh and ruffled her hair again just to be a dick.
Later that night, after dinner and cuddled up on the couch for a movie night featuring Lilo and Stitch , Claire leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Dean pretended not to notice how she held her breath when Stitch declared, in his adorable voice, "Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind."
***
The rhythmic rumble of the Impala's engine vibrated through Dean's hands as he gripped the steering wheel. Normally, he came alive on the open road, the wind whipping through his hair as classic rock blared from the speakers. Pure freedom. But two hours into their trek to a mall in suburban Fresno, Dean was starting to question his decision to let Claire invite her friends along.
Claire, perched in the passenger seat, had long abandoned any pretense of facing forward. She twisted in her seat like a human compass needle, constantly swiveling to chat with her friends in the back. Kaia occupied the seat directly behind Dean, her legs scrunched up underneath her like a pretzel as she conversed with Alex, who had claimed the other window seat. Poor Kevin was relegated to the middle seat, squeezed between the two girls like a sardine in a can.
They'd gotten an early start that morning, hoping to maximize their shopping time. Dean's logic was that a pre-dawn departure would equate to docile, sleep-deprived teenagers. He was sorely mistaken. The excitement of the mall expedition crackled in the air, fueling a seemingly endless stream of chatter. Even with Metallica cranked up as far as Claire would let him get away with, Dean found it difficult to filter out the conversation emanating from the backseat. Claire, seemingly immune to car sickness, had contorted herself into an impossible position, her entire torso facing backwards.
"Did Patience text you back yet?" she hollered over the din of the music.
"Yeah," Alex confirmed, her voice barely audible over the Metallica concert blaring from the speakers. "She wants us to snag her a copy of that new Divergent book. Says she'll pay us back later."
Kaia let out a theatrical sigh. "Ugh, I wish she could've come with us. No offense, Kevin," she added hastily, throwing a quick smile over her shoulder at the lone boy sandwiched between them.
Kevin, who received the last-minute invite, shrugged good-naturedly. "None taken, I guess..." His voice trailed off, barely a squeak amidst the whirlwind energy.
Claire, ever the bulldozer in a conversation, plowed right over him. "Seriously, right? She's been dying to get out of town for, like, forever!"
"Sucks her dad wouldn't let her come," Alex chimed in.
"Ugh, I know, right?" Claire moaned dramatically. "The man is the absolute worst."
"He's like a dictator! Never lets her do anything fun," Alex agreed, her voice laced with indignation.
"And he totally hates you, Claire," Kaia piped up, adding fuel to the fire. "Seriously, the way he glares at you whenever you come over…”
“It's like someone crawled up his ass and–"
"Hey!" Dean's booming voice cut through Claire’s tirade, instantly silencing the backseat chatter. He shot them a stern look in the rearview mirror. "Look, I’m not exactly the guy’s number one fan either, but talking smack about someone behind their back isn't cool."
Claire whipped her head around, her lower lip jutting out in a pout that mirrored Sam's whenever Dean wouldn't budge on letting him change the radio station. "But Dean," she whined, "he's a total asshole and–"
"How do you think Patience would feel if she heard you talking like that about her dad? Hm?" Dean countered, his voice firm but not unkind. He caught Claire's glare in the mirror and held her gaze for a moment. "He might be a pain in the ass, but he's still her father. Let's just change the subject, okay?"
The car descended into an awkward silence, thick enough to cut with a knife. There was nothing quite like the silence of a group of teenagers. Dean couldn't tell whether they were feeling chastened, ready to talk back, or simply planning to resume their gossip when he wasn't paying attention.
After a few tension-filled moments, the pressure seemed to lift. Claire let out a long, exaggerated sigh and mumbled a defeated "Fine" under her breath. A small victory for Dean, but a victory nonetheless.
The rest of the car ride, the teens chatted away about the stores they were gonna visit, the things they were gonna buy, and which celebrity shared their star sign or whatever. Dean mostly tuned it out, instead switching his cassette tape to the other side and letting the music carry him down the road.
Eventually, they arrived at the mall, a sprawling monolith of beige stucco and tinted glass. Palm trees stood sentinel at the entrance, their fronds swaying gently in the breeze. A colossal archway proclaimed the mall's name in garish, bold lettering.
As Dean walked into the mall’s entrance, trailing behind Claire and her friends, he found himself unexpectedly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. Loud music from unseen stores mingled with the excited chatter of fellow shoppers and the rhythmic beeping of car alarms. The air hung heavy with the combined scents of Cinnabon cinnamon rolls, Auntie Anne's pretzels, and a faint undercurrent of popcorn. Teenagers ambled by in packs, their arms laden with shopping bags. Families hurried along, parents wrangling enthusiastic children, their strollers weaving a chaotic ballet through the throngs of people.
Dean hadn't realized just how much he'd gotten used to the quiet solitude of Eden Falls until he was thrust back into the bustling heart of suburbia. But seeing Claire's excitement, the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the massive food court, a small smile tugged at his lips.
The moment they stepped through the mall's automatic doors, Claire and her friends scattered like startled pigeons. Dean had made sure everyone had his cell phone number memorized, along with their prearranged emergency code words. They'd agreed to meet back by the central fountain at four o'clock sharp.
With a resigned sigh, Dean watched them flounce off, their laughter echoing down the brightly lit corridor. Left to his own devices, he wandered the mall, mentally reviewing the items on his shopping list. He hadn't brought much when they'd abruptly fled their apartment before, but his wardrobe was hardly extensive to begin with.
A decent winter jacket was his top priority. Sam had mentioned the mountain winters could get brutal, and Dean wasn't keen on being caught unprepared. He had a solid pair of boots, but Claire was woefully under-equipped. He'd slipped a generous wad of cash into her purse alongside her savings that she’d brought to spend for herself. Enough for a decent pair of winter boots and a good coat, at least.
He wandered around the mall, munching on pretzel bites and exploring. It was challenging to find a coat that was sufficiently heavy for winter in early August. But thankfully, Macy’s had some lingering on a forgotten sales rack that fit the bill. It was so out of season that it barely put a dent in the budget he’d allotted. So he bought some quality socks and another pair of jeans that fit just right in the waist. He sent Cas a picture of himself in the dressing room, shirtless and with the caption “Tell me the truth, do these jeans make my ass look too good?”. But Cas just replied that they fit well and the price was reasonable, so he thought Dean should buy them.
It didn’t take long for Dean to finish his own shopping, so he started checking off items from the lists he’d been given. Somehow, news of his and Claire’s adventure had spread across the whole town. Dean blamed Jody, whose permission he’d had to ask to take Alex and Kaia with him. Within an hour of texting her, he’d received shopping requests from half the people in town. Even Sam chimed in, asking Dean to get him a new phone charger and some fancy coffee beans. Some of the items were easy, like Donna's request for a very specific scented candle from Bath & Body Works (who knew there were limited-edition candles?). But some were just way out there. Dean had no idea what Warhammer was, but Charlie insisted there was a store selling it at this mall and had given him two hundred dollars to buy it.
The one person who didn’t request anything was Cas. Dean had even asked him straight up if he wanted anything, but Cas refused. Said he was fine, that all he needed was in town. But Dean couldn't just go on a shopping trip and buy something for everyone except his boyfriend.
So, he scoured the various stores, growing increasingly frustrated. Nothing seemed quite right. Dean wasn’t the best gift-giver. He’d never really had occasion to. The only people he’d ever bought gifts for were Sam, Lisa, Ben, and Claire. Sammy was easy. Kid was so freakin’ neurotic that he wrote out Christmas lists every year. Lisa worked such long hours at the hospital that Dean always got her spa days and massages as gifts. Ben was over the moon with pretty much every toy car or video game Dean bought him. And Claire, yeah, no mystery there. To a kid who’d been living on the streets, clean clothes and fancy hair and makeup products were like manna from heaven.
But Dean had no idea what to get for Cas. With each store he visited, he struck out. Cas liked gardening, of course. However, Dean had scanned the mall directory and couldn't find any stores that sold gardening supplies. And he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Claire and the kids here while he went to find a Home Depot. Besides, Cas was very picky about his garden, and Dean didn’t want to screw it up. He thought about going to the bookstore. Cas liked to read, his shelves were stuffed with books. But what if Dean got him something he already had? He couldn't have his first gift to Cas as a couple be a dud.
Dean slumped down on a bench and ran his hand over his face. He was getting frustrated. He took a deep breath. It wasn't a big deal. They’d only been dating for, what, a month? Maybe he was overthinking it. He didn’t have to get Cas something big. Just a small trinket would do to show he was thinking about him. It wasn’t like it was Cas’s birthday.
Wait, when was Cas’s birthday? He frowned, realizing that he had no idea. Dean was fairly certain that Cas had never mentioned it. He whipped out his phone to text him.
Hey
Random question but when’s ur bday?
Hello Dean
I am unsure what you mean by “bday”? Please elaborate
Ur birthday you dork
I see
My birthday is September 18th
Oh shit, that was coming up, a little over a month away.
Cool
Mine’s in January
That is good to know, thank you for sharing
The corner of Dean's lips twitched as he reread Cas' latest text. Cas' peculiar way of texting never failed to amuse him. The conversation had petered out, but Dean didn't expect a flurry of messages from Cas anyway. He was probably busy at work, and Cas never did have the best texting etiquette. He seemed to operate under the belief that most messages required no reply.
Unfortunately, Dean’s dilemma persisted. If he didn’t get Cas something now, he’d have to figure out something else before his birthday. And who knows when he’d get another chance like this. He took in a deep breath, stood up, and adjusted his shopping bags in his hand.
He couldn’t be sitting around wasting time. He had work to do.
By the time the late afternoon sun began its descent, Dean found himself shepherding a gaggle of weary but satisfied teenagers back towards the Impala. The car's trunk overflowed with shopping bags, the spoils of war.
A pit stop at a brightly lit chain restaurant broke the journey home. Pizza, burgers, and bottomless soda fueled a final burst of teenage chatter before exhaustion claimed them. Dean watched through the rear-view mirror as eyelids began to droop and conversations dwindled to mumbled monosyllables. Gone was the earlier chaos, replaced by a peaceful silence that settled over the car like a warm blanket. A contented sigh escaped his lips. He'd braced himself for a day of teenage mayhem, but it hadn't been so bad after all.
As he cruised down the forgotten roads that led into Eden Falls, a strange feeling washed over him. Home. It wasn't the life he'd envisioned for himself, but as he glanced at Claire, dead asleep in the passenger seat, a quiet warmth bloomed in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, this "home" thing wasn't so bad after all.
***
The golden light of the early evening streamed through the window of Kelly’s kitchen. Castiel perched on a stool at the island counter, feeling a little out of place as Kelly bustled around preparing dinner. Jack's laughter echoed faintly from upstairs, the sound of him splashing around in the bathtub mingling with the clinking of utensils in the kitchen. Kelly expertly maneuvered a wooden spoon through a pot of bubbling pasta while maintaining conversation. Castiel had attempted to help earlier, but his efforts had mainly resulted in him bumping into Kelly or nearly setting a dishcloth on fire. He'd wisely retreated to the barstool, content to simply observe.
Castiel often came over to eat dinner and spend time with Kelly and Jack after work. Kelly joked that it was the only way he’d get a proper meal. She wasn’t wrong. But he hadn’t come around lately, thanks to spending much of his free time with Dean. Castiel felt guilty, so with Dean being away on his shopping trip with Claire today, it was the perfect opportunity to make up for missed time.
He and Jack had played in the yard for a while before being ordered inside to get ready for dinner. Jack had boundless energy, and Castiel was grateful for the reprieve.
"Kelly," Castiel began hesitantly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "I require some additional relationship advice and I was wondering if I could get your opinion."
Kelly glanced over her shoulder, a warm smile gracing her lips. "Of course. What's on your mind? Everything going alright with Dean?"
Castiel shifted on the stool. "Yes," he replied. "In general, things have been positive. We communicate well, and I find our time together extremely enjoyable."
"That's amazing, I'm so happy for you," Kelly said genuinely.
"Yes, but…" Castiel hesitated, the words catching in his throat.
"But there's a catch?" Kelly prompted gently.
"Not a catch, exactly," Castiel stammered. "It's more like… I wouldn't say there's a problem, but…"
"Castiel," Kelly set the spoon down on the counter with a soft clink. "You know you can tell me anything. It stays between us, I promise."
"I know," Castiel sighed. "I trust you completely. It's just… I think I'm in love with Dean. And I worry that I'm being foolish."
Kelly's brow furrowed in confusion. "Foolish? Why on earth would you think that?"
Castiel ran a hand through his hair, his anxiety bubbling to the surface. "We've only known each other for a short time. And officially 'dating' for just a month."
"So?" Kelly countered.
Castiel's brow furrowed further. "So, all of the media that I have encountered suggests that falling in love so quickly is ill-advised. That it's not a reflection of genuine romantic feelings."
A burst of laughter erupted from Kelly, so sudden and genuine that Castiel couldn't help but be taken aback. "Did Jack make you watch Frozen again?" she teased. "Is that where this is coming from?"
Castiel flushed a faint purple, sheepishly avoiding her gaze. "Possibly," he mumbled.
Kelly chuckled softly. "Castiel, I understand your concern," she began, her voice turning gentle. "And you're right, falling in love that quickly can be a bad thing..."
Castiel's shoulders slumped in defeat. This wasn't the reassurance he'd been hoping for.
"But not always!" Kelly interjected quickly, sensing his dejection. "It depends."
"Depends on what?" Castiel asked, a sliver of hope flickering in his eyes.
Kelly took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. "Look," she said carefully, "there's nothing inherently wrong with a whirlwind romance, falling fast and hard. Honestly, I'd be a hypocrite if I judged you for that." A flicker of sadness crossed her features. Castiel thought that she might have been remembering her relationship with Jack's father. Kelly hadn't told him much, just that it had been a "fling." After she realized she was pregnant, she ended things, which had probably been for the best. From what Kelly had told him of the man, it was unlikely that he would have reacted to the news of his son being a mutant in a positive manner.
Kelly continued, "Feelings like that are real. And very powerful. But you're right, they're not always the best recipe for long-term success. Which is what I'm assuming you want with Dean, right?"
"Absolutely," Castiel affirmed, his voice regaining its strength. "A long-term romantic partnership is definitely my goal."
"Okay, so I hear what you're saying," Kelly said patiently. "You're worried you're rushing things."
"Precisely," Castiel agreed, relieved that she understood his concern.
"That's perfectly normal," Kelly reassured him. "Especially considering this is your first real relationship. It's not uncommon for things to move quickly at the beginning."
"Long-term success, though..." Castiel trailed off, his voice laced with worry. "What can I do to increase the chances of that?"
Kelly leaned forward, her expression turning serious. "There's no magic formula. Love takes work. Time, effort, commitment. As you and Dean get to know each other better, you'll see if he's someone you're willing to invest that energy in or not."
The very idea of Dean not being worth his investment sent a jolt through Castiel. His strength, humor, and loyalty, Dean possessed so many qualities Castiel admired.
"So, what do you suggest I do?" Castiel asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Kelly smiled warmly. "Honestly, I don't think you need to do anything drastic. Just keep getting to know each other, enjoy yourselves, and see how things progress. Have you told Dean you love him?"
Castiel's cheeks flushed even darker. "No," he mumbled, looking down at his hands. "I thought it might be too soon."
Kelly chuckled knowingly. "Yeah, it probably is. But trust me, Cas, you'll know when the time is right."
Castiel fell silent, contemplating her words. A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of optimism. "Thank you, Kelly," he said sincerely. "This has been incredibly helpful."
"Anytime," Kelly replied, squeezing his hand gently. "Now, tell me more about how things are going with Dean." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, eager to hear all the details.
Castiel cleared his throat, about to launch into a detailed account of his breakfast with Dean yesterday. Jack, clad only in a towel that barely reached his knees, skidded to a halt in front of them, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.
"Cas!" he declared. "You're in love with Dean? Is that true?"
Castiel's jaw dropped, his carefully constructed composure crumbling. He shot Kelly a desperate look, silently pleading for help.
Kelly, trying (and failing) to hide a smile, shrugged innocently. "What can I say, Jack? Love is a funny thing. It can sneak up on you when you least expect it, even for adults."
Jack's eyes widened with curiosity. "Does this mean he’s gonna live with you? Are you guys gonna get married and have a baby? Can you have a boy, please?" Jack was bouncing up and down in place as if he were still on the pogo stick they had played with in the yard earlier that day.
Castiel choked on his spit, his face turning a desperate purple shade. Kelly, on the other hand, burst into laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh, honey," she wheezed, wiping her eyes. "Maybe that's a conversation for another time. Why don't you go get dressed? Dinner will be ready soon."
Jack, ever the oblivious one, simply nodded and scampered off, leaving Castiel sputtering and Kelly struggling to regain her composure.
***
The following Monday, Dean was back in the gym, training his powers with everyone. Or, more accurately, everyone else was training. Dean was staring at a table covered in stacked cups, waiting for something to happen. He took a deep breath and felt the power rush up to the surface. He blinked and knew his eyes had changed, turning crimson. He reached out his hand and, again , tried moving an upturned cup to the top of the pile. He visualized it, saw it perfectly in his mind’s eye. But his grip slipped, and the floating cup knocked into the tower he’d been painstakingly building for the better part of an hour, causing it to collapse and scatter all over the table.
“Shit!”
He kicked the leg of the table and threw out another string of curses before stomping off over to the bleachers to take a break. Enough of this. He was going nowhere fast with his stupid powers. He slumped down on the metal benches and chugged some water from the reusable bottle Sam had ‘gifted’ to him. At least, if anyone looked over, Dean would look like he was taking a break rather than pouting.
Throughout the training he was coerced into joining, he’d learned quite a lot about the telekinesis he’d acquired from Crowley. Heavy objects were, well, still freakin’ heavy even when you were lifting them with your mind. But, ironically, they were easier for Dean to grab on to. The smaller the object and the more finesse was required, the more difficult it was to grasp, like trying to thread a needle while wearing gardening gloves. It was frustrating the shit out of him. He almost wished, for a second, that he’d gotten the nerve up to ask Crowley about it all those years ago. But then again, it’s not like he would’ve gotten a straight answer from that slimy bastard.
It took a few minutes, but Cas must have sensed the sudden lack of telepathic effort and looked around to find Dean.
Dean frowned at him as Cas walked over and joined him on the bleachers.
“Hey, are you alright?” Cas did that adorable golden retriever thing with his head
“Just peachy, thanks for asking,” He said, too tired and frustrated to rein in the sarcasm.
Cas looked at him steadily, and Dean relented with a sigh after a moment.
“How’s your training going?” Dean grouched, settling down, if possible, even lower in his seat.
“It’s going fine, thank you for asking,” Cas responded politely. He sat next to Dean on the bench, close enough for their arms to brush. “What about you? You seem to be having a particularly hard time today.” Cas asked, genuinely curious with no hint of reproach.
“Not sure what you mean,” Dean grumbled.
Cas sighed. “Dean, it is fairly obvious to myself and others that you dislike your talent.”
“Gee, Cas, you think?”
“And your reluctance to fully embrace it is hindering your ability to make progress.” Cas ignored his bitchy attitude. “I am merely asking why, considering telekinesis is not necessarily a rare talent, nor does it have a significant impact on your day-to-day life.”
Dean snorted. Oh man, if only Cas knew just how much Dean’s power impacted his daily life.
Cas was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Dean sighed, his hand wandering over his face and hanging tight to soothe the muscles of his shoulder.
“I guess it’s just…” What should he say? “It’s only ever brought me trouble, and using it just…brings up bad memories.” Dean shivered. That was the understatement of the year. “I’m not exactly proud of it.”
Castiel hummed and looked back over at the others, where Sam and Jo were laughing at some story Gabriel was telling about sneaking a horse into a bar. “I used to feel similarly. I used to resent my abilities and their effect on my appearance, most of all. When I was very young, I would pray for God to change me, to at the very least, take away my tail or fix my skin. I didn’t even mind being a mutant. Growing up on the reservation, I didn’t know what it was like to be around “normal” people. There was no reason to hide the fact that I was exceptional, so I do not truly understand that struggle. But I wished more than anything to look ‘normal’.”
“Cas,” Dean felt as if his heart were being split open by an axe. All the lingering frustration inside him deflated at Cas’s confession.
“I know, Dean. I know,” Cas turned back to look at him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I have accepted that there is nothing I can do to change the way I look. For the most part, it no longer bothers me as much as it once did. Your opinion of me has certainly helped.” Cas’s smile grew genuine, and Dean let out the breath he’d been holding. “I just wish… never mind.”
“No,” Dean brushed his shoulder against Cas’. “Tell me?”
“It’s foolish.”
“C’mon, tell me anyway.”
“Don’t laugh,” A delicate purple flush grew over Cas’s cheeks as he muttered. “I want to go scuba diving.”
“Huh?” Dean gaped. That was not what he was expecting Cas to say.
“I know, I know,” Cas babbled on. “It’s a silly dream. I could never. I can’t take any classes to get certified, and I can’t travel, and I don’t even know how to swim. I just–I just read so many stories about adventure and exploration as a child. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea was my favorite. Have you read it?” Cas asked.
“Uh, no. But it’s about a guy with a submarine, right?”
Cas nodded. “Of course, I adored all of Verne’s novels. But his depiction of the sea, of the mysteries lurking in the deep, always captivated me. And, well, having never seen the ocean before, made me dream that maybe, one day, I could see it for myself.” Cas finished in a small, hesitant voice, as if saying his dreams out loud would jinx them.
Dean opened his mouth to say something, to promise Cas that his dreams were not out of reach. In fact, scuba diving seemed pretty damn attainable. But he quickly snapped his mouth shut as he remembered Cas’s reaction when Dean had suggested they go for a drive.
Cas wasn’t like Dean. Or Sam, or Claire, or any other mutant here. Every time he left town to go on a mission, he took on a much greater risk. All it would take was one security camera capturing Cas’s likeness, and it would be over. The Feds would descend upon them like a pack of wolves on a lone deer. It would be irresponsible and cruel of Dean to make promises he couldn’t keep.
But he wanted to. He could teach Cas to swim in the pool here at the school. They could drive out to the coast, traveling on old abandoned backroads. They could find a nice, isolated spot where they could spend the day swimming, laughing, and exploring the little tide pools by the shore. He could take the classes and rent the equipment so Cas could dive under the waves and see it all for himself.
Dean wanted so badly to make all of Cas’s dreams come true.
“I should be grateful for all that I have,” Cas was saying. “It is a silly, childish wish. I know that it is impossible. Trust me, the irony that I can travel anywhere at will and yet cannot leave town is not lost on me.” Cas looked back at him with a smirk and a shrug.
Dean huffed out a small laugh. He glanced at Cas and, for the first time, wondered what he would say if Dean asked him if he wanted his mutation taken away.
“Hey, uh, weird question, but,” Dean stuttered. “If you could somehow, say, take a magic pill and then you’d be normal, would you do it?”
Cas looked at him, confused. “Would you?”
“Definitely, yeah.”
“In this hypothetical scenario, would my appearance change, as well as losing my talents?”
“Uh…,” Dean had no idea. If he took away Cas’s powers, would he take away his appearance, too? Dean looked at Cas next to him. He couldn't imagine Cas looking any other way. To Dean, it was just who Cas was.
If Dean took his powers, would Cas’s tail disappear? Would Dean grow a tail? Would he turn blue? Dean had no idea. He'd never taken the powers from a mutant like Cas before. Everyone he’d taken from had looked just like everyone else, their mutation lying unseen beneath the facade of normalcy.
Cas was staring at him, waiting for Dean to answer.
“Let's say yeah,” Dean licked his lips. “You’d just be a regular guy.”
Cas hummed as he thought about it. “There were many times when I was younger that I wished for such a “magic pill” as you call it. However, when I was in Purgatory, my talents were what helped me survive. It was necessary, and I began to embrace it. I hated the fights they put us through, but I won’t deny that the experience allowed me to accept and even welcome my abilities. And now, I can use them for good, to help others get the same second chance that I did. They are not just something useful, but something I can use to help others and contribute to the community and our mission. So, although I am saddened by the fact that I will never get to see the ocean, I still don't think I would take it.”
Dean stared down at his hands as he clenched the fabric of his jeans on his thighs. He could never use his powers that way. The only time he’d helped someone with his power was by taking them away, so that Ben wouldn’t get caught and locked up. Dean wasn’t that altruistic. Or suicidal. So, he wasn’t planning to offer that to anyone else.
“You're amazing, Cas,” Dean whispered. “I…I don't know how you do it. I feel like such a wimp for complaining about my talents when you’ve been through so much.”
“You have also been through a lot, Dean,” Cas put his hand on his shoulder. “It is not a competition. There is no need to compare yourself to me. You’ve made a lot of progress recently, and I believe you’ll get there eventually.”
Dean smiled. “Thanks, Cas.” He brought their hands together, weaving his fingers between Cas’s as he leaned over and kissed him.
Cas leaned into it, melting into his side. Dean allowed the kiss to linger, already thinking about going back in with some tongue action, when a grating voice interrupted.
“Get a room, you two!” Gabriel hollered. “Go suck face on your own time! We’re supposed to be training over here!”
Cas jumped back like he’d been shocked, dark purple flushing his cheeks. Dean simply gave Gabriel the middle finger and used his telekinesis to throw a basketball at his face. He missed, but Gabe turned around and ran back to Sam, whining about how Dean was bullying him, which made Cas start laughing. So all in all, Dean chalked it up as a win.
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