Chapter Text
By the time Sam, Dean and Cas traipsed back into Room 106 of the Little Lover's Honeymoon Motel it was late. The boys were exhausted and irritable after the hunt, and Dean's sudden decision to have a raging bitch fit wasn't helping the situation.
"I didn't need your help, man! I can take care of myself!" Dean yelled, evidently angry as he slammed the door shut behind them all.
"Dean, that vampire was about to sink his fangs into your-" Castiel began to explain in a strained, yet unfathomably patient voice.
"It was under control!" Dean interrupted, falling back on one of the beds. "You don't need to always be flying in to save me the whole friggin' time! What are you, my guardian angel?"
"In many ways, yes, that is an accurate portrayal of our relationship, don't you think?" Cas retorted in his newly found sarcastic tone, scowling a little. "Get some sleep, Dean. Maybe in the morning you'll think to thank me for saving your life once again."
Dean reached behind him to grab his pillow and hurl it at Cas, only to have it fly ineffectually through the air as the Angel vanished.
Sam sighed from his position still over by the door. He flicked the latch, went to collect the pillow and threw it back at Dean, who grunted, but didn't move, letting the pillow rest on his face.
They were constantly doing this, Sam thought as he shucked off his jeans and climbed into the other bed, Dean and Cas would be practically holding hands one minute, and then at each other's throats the next. It was as if the idea of being so close scared them – or more likely, scared Dean – and so he'd pick a fight about something stupid just for the sake of it.
It was getting really annoying.
1:30am. Was that late enough? Sam was never entirely sure. He risked a glance over at his brother, who had finally mustered up the strength to crawl under the covers about an hour ago. He was breathing evenly, his face turned away. He must be asleep by now, surely. Sam chewed his lip, getting impatient. He didn't think he could wait any longer.
Slowly, carefully, Sam sat up, holding the covers steady so that they wouldn't make a rustling noise. With aching precision, he lifted one leg up and slid it out to the side, the other following closely behind until both feet were firmly planted on the gritty carpet covering the motel floor. He glanced over at Dean, who hadn't moved an inch, and continued the process of vacating the bed. At length, he managed to get himself into a sort of hunched over standing position, not unlike an old beggar woman, holding the scratchy motel duvet up in mid-air like a safety blanket, lest it should rustle or quiver and wake Dean.
He laid the covers down carefully, and tiptoed over to the table in the corner of the room, finding it illuminated by the light from the stained window behind it, and with one wooden and mildly uncomfortable looking chair in position. Sam couldn't help admiring the spot earlier, thinking of what a perfect place it would be for one man to sit with a computer, away from prying eyes. He had even placed his laptop there in anticipation of this moment.
As silently as possible, Sam slid into his seat, flicked open the lid of his laptop and sighed, a smile creeping onto his face as the warm blue glow of the screen lit up his features. A quick glance over at his oblivious brother ensured he was good to go, and he quickly opened up his favourite page.
THE SUPERNATURAL SOCIETY
A fanbase for Carver Edlund's brilliant and terrifying book series, Supernatural!
Welcome back, Samfan69!
It felt good to be home. Sam wasted no time in the galleries or looking at the clips of the various Supernatural conventions. He knew he didn't have a lot of time, Dean rarely got more than four hours sleep, and he wanted to spend a good deal of time in the Supernatural chatroom tonight.
Okay, so Sam knew it was weird. I mean, he didn't wait until 1:30am just for the hell of it, if Dean ever found out about Sam's weird obsession with the Supernatural books, he'd… well Sam genuinely couldn't fathom what his brother's reaction would be, but it sure as hell wouldn't be good. I mean, even he could admit, fangirling over a series of books where you are one of the main characters is pretty odd. But Sam thought that if Dean ever found out, God forbid, he might be able to wrap his head around that much… I mean, when you get down to it, Dean can be a pretty egotistical guy himself in some ways, and Sam was surprised the idea of thousands of screaming fans poring over vivid descriptions of himself didn't interest his brother more, really.
But it wasn't even the drooling teenage girls fawning over his character that got Sam hooked. It's all these theories that the fans come up with. He actually started this obsession pretty innocently – he was researching, something about Enochian sigils, and he clicked on a link that led him to a Supernatural fan page, run by a particularly dedicated young woman who had matched up some archangelic sigils to a design on the watch the Trickster was described as wearing back at the Mystery Spot. At the time, Sam had dismissed the whole idea as the ridiculous ramblings of a fan spending far too much time online, but later, when the Trickster revealed himself as the Archangel Gabriel, a cold chill ran down Sam's spine. She'd been right.
There were thousands of fan theories just like this one, and Sam would be lying if he said he didn't tap the Supernatural Society resource regularly when he was doing research. But that was all work. It was at night, when nobody was peeking over his shoulder that he could indulge in some of the… stranger fan theories that really caught his interest. The 'shipping', for instance, was an area that Sam - despite avoiding for a while, thinking he most likely wouldn't like what he would find if he looked - found most intriguing. Destiel, Wincest… what was it all about? Sam had decided to put an end to his curiosity, and just delve right in, only he hadn't been able to get online for longer than five minutes at a time until now. Well tonight was the night.
Sam clicked on the SlashFanChat link eagerly, and smiled as he waited for the page to load. He hadn't been able to sign on for a few days, and he was getting antsy. He only knew very little about the slash side of Supernatural, but so far his OTP was definitely Bobby/Crowley. When he saw a fan mention it for the first time, he burst out laughing, remembering the picture Crowley had shown him of the kiss. Imagine if the Supernatural Society got hold of that! But apparently Chuck's description of the kiss was enough for some fans. The chatbox finally appeared, and Sam glanced eagerly at the guest list. His face fell a little. Only two other people were in the chatroom tonight. Oh well, it's not like Chuck's books were an overwhelming success anyway.
Samfan69: Hey guys!
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Hiiiii :)
Destiel4eva: hey
Samfan69: What are you guys talking about?
Destiel4eva: our overwhelming Destiel feels haha
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Srsly, why can't they just make out already?!
Samfan69: … are you talking about Dean and Castiel?
Destiel4eva: duh
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Are you a Wincest shipper then?
Destiel4eva: lol who isn't
Samfan69: What! EW! No!
Sam felt himself shudder, and he reeled back from the computer screen a little. He glanced up at Dean to check he was still sleeping, and shuddered again.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Haha, I'm not that keen either. I don't mind it or anything, but Destiel is my OTP!
Destiel4eva: yeah, me too can you tell lol
Destiel4eva: i see where people are coming from with Wincest tho
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Yeah same, I mean they obvs can't live without each other – and when Dean sold his soul to save Sam that was so cute.
CUTE?! She couldn't be serious. This girl thought Dean selling his soul to a crossroads demon and going to hell for FORTY YEARS was cute?! Although, her username would suggest she was born in 1997, making her fifteen. Sam decided he should probably let her off.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Oh and when Dean calls him Sammy… unf.
Destiel4eva: haha!
Samfan69: unf?
Destiel4eva: she thinks it's hot
Samfan69: UGH
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Hey! Don't diss other people's kinks! I've read too many fanfics where he says it during sex okay?
Samfan69: PLEASE STOP
Destiel4eva: hahahaha
Destiel4eva: so… you don't like Wincest – are you a Destiel shipper?
Samfan69: Um…
MrsDeanWinchester69: Come on, you have to admit, they are completely canon.
Sam sure as hell wasn't going to embarrass himself by asking what canon meant again.
Samfan69: I guess I've never really thought about it…
Destiel4eva: well think about it! He GRIPPED HIM TIGHT and RAISED HIM FROM PERDITION.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Plus the way they're always staring at each other.
Destiel4eva: eyesex.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: and Cas always saves Dean on hunts!
Destiel4eva: and he ALWAYS comes when Dean calls and hardly ever when Sam does (sorry Samfan)
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Omg, and that adorable time when Dean was all 'you're NOT going to die a virgin, not on my watch!' and took Cas to a strip club and paid a hooker to have sex with him but Cas couldn't go through with it COS HE'S SO IN LURRRVE
Samfan69: WHAT?! When the hell did that happen?
Dean took an Angel of the Lord to a strip club?! He was going to have serious words with his brother later. How did he not know about this?
Destiel4eva: book 6 dummy. You need to brush up on your Supernatural knowledge.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: The things I would do to have them become canon…
Destiel4eva: omg ikr. If Dean and Cas were (lol) real people and I knew them, I would LITERALLY do everything in my power to make them see how made for each other they are.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Absolutely. Everything I could.
Sam's brow creased as he read the words, and not just because the abbreviation 'ikr' went right over his head. They'd do everything in their power? That seemed a tad extreme. They must really believe in this Destiel thing, he thought.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Sigh. We can dream.
Destiel4eva: pfft. You can dream. I'm gonna write Chuck a letter expressing my homoerotic desires.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Omg, haha!
"Sammy?" Dean's voice sailed through the darkness, making Sam jump and snap his head up in fear. "What're y'doin?" He slurred sleepily, sitting up a little to peer over at Sam, still huddled over his laptop on the table.
"Oh, n-nothing. I couldn't sleep… I was just looking for a case." Sam replied quickly, his words tripping over themselves.
Dean grabbed his phone off the bedside table and blinked at the screen blearily. "It's nearly two in the morning!"
"I know. Go back to sleep, I'm going to bed now." Sam replied, his heart sinking. To his relief, Dean sank back down onto his pillow and closed his eyes.
Sighing, Sam turned back to the chatroom and tapped out a hurried message.
Samfan69: Sorry guys, gotta go. My brother's being a dick. You've given me a lot to think about! Bye x
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Oh :( bye Samfan! I hope we converted you to our shipping ways!
Destiel4eva: DESTIEL4EVA DAMMIT! Xxx
Samfan69 has left the conversation.
To the accompaniment of Dean's annoyed moaning, Sam switched off his laptop, closed the lid and shuffled back to bed. He needed some sleep anyway.
He rolled over onto his side, waiting for sleep to overcome him. Those girls had made some interesting points. I mean, he was just thinking about how weird Cas and Dean were when they were around each other, blowing hot one minute and cold the next. What if, like that other fan did with the Trickster/Gabriel, these girls had a point? Sam rolled over onto his other side so he could stare at Dean's unconscious profile in the other bed. Was his big brother all lovesick over an Angel of the Lord? Even worse, was Cas smitten with his loud, obnoxious, egotistical brother?
Sam could feel his thoughts start to blur at the edges. Meh, he'd figure it out in the morning.
Morning, as it happened, came far too soon for either of the hunter's liking, having been awake at ungodly hours of the morning after an extremely tiring hunt in a vamp nest nearby. Dean was grumpy, but what was new there, and Sam thought it wise to let him have the first shower before they set off.
Dean glared at Sam and ambled off to the bathroom – a look that clearly said 'it's your fault I'm so friggin tired and who the hell gets up at 1:30am anyway'. Clearly Destiel fangirls do, Sam thought privately.
Once the sound of water running could be heard from behind the closed door, Sam leapt out of bed and over to his laptop, hurriedly clicking the 'on' button and waiting impatiently for it to boot up, his eyes darting nervously towards the bathroom.
As the laptop slowly whirred into life, Sam ran over the conversation he'd had with the two girls in the chatroom the night before. He couldn't help matching up the 'evidence' the girls gave for the existence of Destiel with his own memories of Dean and Cas together. For instance: the staring. Now that he thought about it, there was a hell of a lot of gazing going on between them, and yeah, Sam could readily admit that was a bit weird. And okay, maybe Castiel was an Angel of the Lord and was staring so hard because he was looking into Dean's soul or something crazy – but just what in the hell was Dean's excuse?
The desktop flashed onto the screen, and Sam quickly pulled up the Supernatural Society homepage, clicking onto the SlashFanChat straight away. Thanking the Lord for free motel WiFi, Sam glanced at the guest list to see that Destiel4eva was back online! Perfect. He just wanted a quick word, just to verify his current feelings.
There were several other people in the chatroom now – probably due to it being a more reasonable time than 1:30am, so Sam requested a private chat with her, and much to his relief, she accepted.
Samfan69: Hey again!
Destiel4eva: hi
Samfan69 is typing…
Destiel4eva: listen you're not a perv or anything right?
Destiel4eva: my mom's always trying to convince me that there are like 30 year old guys on this site pretending to be teenagers lol
Samfan69: HAHA no of course not HAHAHAHAHA
Sam gulped down a guilt trip about the little almost lie. Well, he was only 29! And this was for the sake of his brother's well being! And his own. If he had to listen to another one of Cas and Dean's stupid, pointless arguments he'd go crazy. What if there was a way to stop it?
Samfan69: Listen, are you like, 100% sure about the whole Dean/Castiel thing?
Destiel4eva: *Destiel. Yeah, I'd bet my Supernatural collector's edition on it
Samfan69: Hmm. You know, I think you might be on to something… I mean Dean's always moping around, acting all moody whenever I talk about Cas…
Destiel4eva: huh? Dude, it's just a book…
Samfan69: Right, yeah! I know, I was just… really into the Supernatural world for a sec there.
Destiel4eva: w/e. So you ship Destiel now? Cool!
Samfan69: I guess! Haha. Hey, remember what you were saying yesterday about if you could you'd do everything in your power to make them see?
Destiel4eva: yeah
Samfan69: What… exactly would you do?
Over the next five minutes, Sam and a young teenage girl managed to hammer out a plan of what they would do if 'hypothetically' they were able to meddle in Dean and Cas's completely obvious relationship.
"What're you grinning at? You're driving the first half." Dean said, sounding slightly less grumpy now, and walking out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a white towel draped around his hips.
"Oh, that's fine." Sam said, still grinning, closing the laptop lid and turning to Dean. "Not a problem."
Dean was starting to look concerned about the large, toothy smile on his brother's face, when suddenly Sam sprang up out of his chair and headed to the bathroom, whistling to himself.
"You're way too chipper, man." Dean mumbled, rummaging through his bag for clothes.
It doesn't matter, Sam thought happily, he had a plan.
Phase One of The Plan: Convince them of each other's affections.
They'd been driving for a good half an hour, and it was an unusually hot day, so Dean insisted on having all the windows of the Impala down as they raced down the highway. Sam was driving because Dean was still tired apparently, so this was a rare occasion where Sam could choose the music and Dean had to – how had he so eloquently put it once? – shut his cakehole.
Sam switched off the radio. Dean turned to glare at him in annoyance, but was clearly too hot to do anything other than move his head fractionally towards Sam.
"I just wanted… to chat." Sam said in explanation. Dean closed his eyes and moved his head back to loll against the seat. "Dean?"
"God, Sammy, all we do is talk! Radio is there so we don't have to. It's too hot for a damn chinwag."
Sam sighed, and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Actually – I wanted to talk about Cas. Specifically." Dean's eyes snapped open and he sat upright, his incredulous stare boring a hole into the side of Sam's head.
"What about Cas?" Dean asked, at a slightly louder decibel than was probably necessary.
"I just… noticed you guys have been arguing a lot-"
"That's not your problem, Sam." Dean interrupted, sitting back again and staring out the windscreen, his arms folded across his chest.
"Well I was just thinking… I mean, I know it might be annoying to have him come rescue you every time, but you've gotta admit, we'd be nowhere without him by now. He's just trying to help you Dean-"
"Shut up Sam. You don't know what you're talking about." Dean said loudly, cutting Sam off before he could continue.
"Okay! Okay, just… maybe think about the possibility that… that…"
"That what Sam?!" Dean demanded, glaring at Sam's profile again.
"…did you ever consider the possibility that Cas might be doing this because he… y'know…" Sam asked tentatively, risking a quick glance at Dean to raise his eyebrows a little, hoping his older brother would get the message.
It seemed to dawn on Dean pretty quickly. "What?! Oh, Sam for Christ's sake. That's absurd!"
Sam stifled a giggle at Dean's reaction. That definitely seemed a bit too defensive.
"So there's nothing you wanna tell me, you don't want to confess any feelings…?"
"Shut your piehole, Sammy!"
"Dean, if you ever need someone to confide in-"
"Goddammit Samantha! I swear to God I will throw your damn precious laptop into the middle of the highway!"
Sam said nothing more, still smirking. He'd planted the idea. That's all that mattered.
This time was going to be far more difficult, Sam already knew, and wasn't particularly looking forward to the conversation he was going to need to have soon, but he carried on driving with admirable determination, a now sulking Dean by his side.
They came to a rest stop about two hours later, and got out to stretch their legs and fill up Dean's baby. Dean said he'd drive the next stretch, and Sam eagerly clambered into the back seat, thinking he could get a nap in before his next turn at the wheel.
He was just drifting off when Dean's loud cry of "Holy shit!" jerked him awake just in time to see the car swerve violently to the left before righting itself. Sam was about to ask Dean what the hell he was playing at when suddenly he heard a voice from beside him.
"Hello Sam."
"Jeez!" Sam cried, jumping slightly as he took in the sight of Castiel next to him on the back seat.
"Dean." Castiel acknowledged curtly, nodding at Dean's reflection in the rearview mirror. Dean narrowed his eyes.
"Cas, you need to call. How many times?! You nearly made me swerve off the goddamn road!" Dean cried, sounding irritated. Cars began to overtake him as he maintained his eye contact with Castiel in the mirror.
"My apologies. Terribly sorry for inconveniencing you with my presence yet again, Dean. Next time I find you after hours of searching up and down the length of the highway for the only 1967 Chevy Impala I will be sure to spare a moment to call you first." Sam had never heard Castiel sound so bitchy. He kind of liked the new Cas. Dean rolled his eyes and dragged them back to look out of the windscreen.
So much Goddamn staring. How am I only noticing this now?
"Good to see you, Cas. You got news?" Sam asked with a smile, hoping to ease some of the practically tangible tension.
Castiel nodded once. "There have been reports of a gang of demons up in South Dakota, not far from Bobby's… residence. From the sounds of things, the demons have some sort of spirit under their control, and are using it to indirectly kill their victims."
"Sounds like our kind of party. We were headed to Bobby's anyway, right Dean?" Sam asked, turning towards the front.
In response, Dean switched on the radio. At least he carried on driving in the same direction. Castiel sighed and placed his hands delicately in his trenchcoat-covered lap. Well, Sam thought, it's now or never.
"Hey, so, um, Cas?" Castiel turned his head wearily towards Sam. He looked miserable. Poor guy.
"You and Dean… are you guys… okay? I mean I noticed you're arguing a lot-"
"Sam, I don't think it's wise to discuss personal matters whilst your brother is in the car." Castiel interrupted, his voice low.
"Oh don't worry about him, he's got twelve cassette tapes of Metallica to get through." As if on cue, Dean's voice rang through the car, belting out the wordless guitar solo with impressive accuracy. "Seriously though, he doesn't mean it. He's just really uptight about his masculinity."
Castiel frowned and tilted his head in a questioning gesture. "Are you saying he's gender confused?"
Sam had to bite his cheek to stop himself from laughing. "I mean, if you keep swooping in and saving him like he's the damsel and you're the knight in shining armour, yeah, he's gonna get annoyed. And I know it's not fair, cause you're just trying to help, but that's just who he is."
Castiel sighed. "I don't understand him. He'd prefer it if I just stood by and watched as he barely makes it out alive?"
Sam shrugged. "Yeah, probably. Dean's a hunter to the core – he lives for the near-death experience."
Castiel shook his head as if he couldn't comprehend such behaviour, and looked out of the window.
"Hey, Cas… he does know. That y'know, you're doing everything for him." Castiel gave a humourless laugh. Sam tried not to let the shock show on his face. "I don't think he knows how to thank you for it though." Sam mused, a smile playing on his lips. Castiel turned to look at him again. "He's not used to people doing stuff for him… and you've done so much. Have you ever maybe… wondered… if that might have had an effect on him?"
Sam held his breath and searched Castiel's face for any signs of recognition. The Angel stared blankly back at him.
"What… do you mean? What effect?" Castiel asked, his brow creasing again.
Sam breathed out and ran a hand through his hair. What a great idea, Sam. Explain to Castiel – the guy who doesn't understand how a cellphone voicemail works – that your big brother has a huge gay crush on him, but that Dean doesn't actually know it himself yet. Man, you have a long way to go before reaching professional fangirl status.
"Well… when someone saves your life countless times, and dies for you, and gives up everything for you… I'd imagine it'd be quite difficult not to have… feelings for that person." Sam tried, wincing as he had to spell it out.
"Feelings." Castiel repeated, still sounding confused. "Feelings?"
"Feelings." Sam confirmed, and looked pointedly between Dean and Castiel, trying to hammer the point home.
"Would you two ladies shut up about your damn feelings? You're starting to drown out Metallica!" Dean yelled over the noise of the radio blaring from the front. Castiel blushed and turned to look out of the window again.
Oh well, Sam thought, hopefully he'd given Castiel some food for thought.
Phase Two of The Plan: Get Dean to save Cas during a hunt.
It was getting dark when Dean pulled the car up to a run-down looking cottage just outside of Sioux Falls, the sun setting at long last, and the intense heat finally starting to dissipate. He had grudgingly followed Castiel's instructions, and he switched off the engine with an annoyed scowl on his face. The three of them got out of the car, Sam and Dean stretching until their joints popped after being crammed in a hot, stuffy car all day. Dean did not look pleased that Castiel looked as comfortable as ever, despite being drenched in trenchcoat as per usual.
"Come on." Dean grumbled, hauling the trunk open and grabbing a shotgun before marching off to the door of the cottage.
Sam shot a sympathetic look towards Cas, and grabbed the other shotgun, checking to see if it was loaded with rock salt, like he always did. Castiel stood expectantly by his side, and Sam slammed the lid of the trunk closed.
"You don't need any weapons, right Cas?" Sam asked, plastering a bright smile on to his face. "You've got your Angel mojo to back you up, right?"
"Err… I suppose…" Castiel said uncertainly, probably thinking about the number of demons waiting for them inside.
Sam clapped him on the shoulder and followed Dean hastily towards the building, Castiel hot on his heels. The large wooden door was heavy and clearly bolted from the inside, but Dean was clearly not planning on wasting time with lock picking. He walked back a few paces, aimed his foot squarely at the door, and drew himself up fully, preparing to kick, hard. At that moment, the door flew open with a loud bang, sending Dean's foot hurtling through the air.
Dean looked up, fuming, at Castiel, who had his hand raised towards the door, clearly having just 'mojo'd' it open.
"Cas! What the hell?" Dean shouted, loudly, and Sam slapped a hand over his brother's mouth a fraction too late. In seconds there were thick tendrils of black smoke pouring out of every window and crack in the building, all pooling around them in a tight circle where they stood in the dusty courtyard.
If we die tonight because Dean and Cas can't quit their lovers spats, they are going to spend eternity with me screaming ABBA songs at them both for being so stupid, Sam thought.
He didn't have much time for thinking however, and in seemingly no time at all, the demons materialised, taking on their human forms. They were surrounded, there was no way they were getting back to the Impala now, despite it only being a few yards away. Sam fired his first shot at a balding, ebony eyed man in a navy sweatshirt, and all hell broke loose.
The demons attacked from all sides, cackling and screaming obscenities as they were picked off one by one. Sam's gun was ineffectual at best, and he reached for Ruby's knife, remembering too late that as part of the plan he had given it to Dean. Sam's gaze darted about as he hurriedly reloaded, and he caught sight of Castiel a few feet away, slamming his bare hands onto the faces of any demons that dared venture close to him, ripping them out of their vessels with his shining grace.
Damn it. He was supposed to be the damsel in distress this time, Sam thought as he fired another shot into the chest of a young blonde woman with a snarl on her lipsticked mouth. There was only one thing for it, Sam sighed to himself. With a dramatic, high-pitched squeal of what he hoped sounded like pure terror, Sam dropped his shotgun to the ground and placed a hand against his forehead, falling backwards as theatrically as possible, hoping to God Castiel saw. Luckily, for a few moments, any demons near to Sam seemed genuinely bemused by what had just happened and froze in their tracks, giving Castiel just enough time to glance over at Sam, now crumpled to the floor, shoot a quick look over at Dean, who seemed to be taunting the demons with a cocky grin, luring the majority of them over to him where he could plunge the demon knife in again and again. Once Castiel was sure he was safe, he turned on his heel, and ran to help Sam.
"Sam. Are you hurt? What's wrong?" Castiel asked urgently as soon as he reached him, quickly taking care of a stray demon that charged towards him on his left. Sam gave an Oscar-worthy groan of pain, and Castiel looked concerned, holding out a hand to help the hunter off of the floor.
Dean was in his element; ganking Demons was his forte, and with Ruby's knife it was as easy as slicing pie. Mmm, pie, Dean thought dreamily, twisting the knife in a particularly persistent black eyed old woman who just wouldn't go down. He bet Bobby had some pie. He'd raid the fridge when they arrived back there later.
Dean drew his knife out and chanced a quick glance over towards the others. He froze immediately when he saw that Cas wasn't where he'd seen him moments before. Scanning the gaggle of Demons closing in around him for a glimpse of beige, he caught sight of him, back turned to the on-going fight, leaning down over something.
WHAT WAS HE DOING?! Dean wasted no time, and began shoving Demons out of his way, ganking a couple in the process. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure heading speedily in the same direction, towards Castiel's turned back.
Dean started to move faster, but the Demons were pushing at him from all sides. He plunged the knife in time and again, trying to steal glimpses of the rapidly advancing figure getting closer and closer to Cas. Was that a glimpse of bright, shiny silver in its hand? Did it have an Angel sword?!
Fuck, Dean thought, and barrelled through the Demons in front of him, not caring that they clawed and bit at him as he went. With seconds to spare he dived in front of Castiel's back, throwing his arms out as if he were a human shield. The figure sprinted at him and Dean plunged the knife straight into its heart with such force it was knocked to the ground.
Castiel turned at the sudden commotion behind him. He took in the sight of Dean, pulling a bloodied knife out of a Demon sprawled on the floor, its now lifeless fingers clutching an Angel sword, and his eyes widened. Dean straightened up, his breathing ragged, and met Castiel's amazed gaze.
Sam, still sprawled on the floor, eyes closed, began to mutter a demon exorcism under his breath.
It seemed to Dean that he blinked and the Demons were gone, their unconscious vessels crumpling to the ground as the viscous black smoke escaped into the air above them. To Sam, of course, it took a good few minutes of quietly spurting out Latin phrases while his brother eye-fucked an Angel and didn't seem to notice the screaming.
Sam sat up once he was done, and got to his feet easily, collecting the dropped shotgun on the way. Castiel managed to tear his gaze away from Dean long enough to look at him confusedly.
"Sam? You're alright?" Castiel asked.
"Err, yeah. Guess so! Demons must have cast a weird spell on me or something." Sam replied, pretending to check himself all over for any injuries. Castiel's eyes narrowed and raked over Sam's form, scrutinising. Sam bent down over the Demon by Dean's feet, his brow furrowing at the sight of the sword in its hand. Where did he get that from? Sam guessed he shouldn't be too surprised. It was the Goddamn apocalypse after all.
Suddenly, Dean grabbed hold of Cas's shoulder and yanked him round so that they were face to face again.
"And what the hell do you think you were playing at?!" Dean demanded angrily, jabbing Cas's shoulder with his finger for emphasis. Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but Dean got there first. "I'm taking care of a Demon gangbang over there and I look up to see you, back turned on the whole damn spectacle, crouching down over God knows what – and I'm sure whatever it was was a lot more interesting than the current situation but-"
"Dean, I was helping Sam!" Castiel interrupted, his voice raised. Dean stopped mid-rant to glance at Sammy, who shrugged and nodded.
"Oh." Dean said, the anger seeping out of his tensed shoulders. "O-okay. You err… okay now, Sammy?" Dean asked, sounding mildly distressed. Cas looked away, folding his arms defiantly.
"I'm fine, Dean. Let's go find this Spirit thing or whatever." Sam said, and started to meander over to the cottage door again.
"Cas, just… please. Be more careful. ...Please." Sam heard Dean say as he walked away. He risked a glance back over his shoulder just in time to see Cas place a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder. The gashes covering Dean's arms were gone almost instantly, as though they were never there. Bingo, Sam thought, nice one Cas. "You scared me, man." Dean mumbled, looking at his feet, and Sam barely caught it.
Phase Three of The Plan: Place them in increasingly romantic situations.
Sam sank into a seat at the kitchen table. Phase Three of the plan was going to be difficult, he could tell. They had arrived back at Bobby's at around nine, after a pretty dicey trip down to the cellar of the abandoned cottage, where they'd had to burn an worn, silvery tapestry that a certain violent spirit had grown particularly attached to. The Demons had been using the tapestry to control the Spirit and use it as a ghostly weapon. Damn Demons.
Unfortunately - and when wasn't this the case - the violent spirit didn't seem too pleased about the Winchester's (and Castiel's) sudden appearance in its territory, and let's just say Sam now had significantly singed hair as a result. He'd chosen to ignore Dean's comments about it being the first decent haircut he'd had in five years.
Sam looked around him, taking in the dust-laden piles of books scattered over every available surface, the plates cluttered in and around the yellowing sink, the empty whiskey bottles and beer cans gathered around the bin. Hmm, not exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd thought of 'romantic'.
Dean had disappeared towards the living room pretty quickly after they'd stumbled through the back door, after a quick detour to the kitchen to raid the fridge of course, mumbling 'sweet, sweet pie' under his breath and calling a quick hello to Bobby, who grunted in his direction from behind the desk. Bobby had told Sam on the phone before they left their last job that he'd been roped into doing the research for a couple of old hunter friends. They'd apparently discovered some kind of haunted Egyptian burial site in Detroit of all places. Translation: Bobby was going to be AWOL for a while. Sam still nodded at him in greeting.
Castiel had disappeared almost immediately, announcing to Sam that he would return in precisely seventeen minutes. Sam suspected he and Dean were feeling a little uneasy about the whole saving-Cas's-life thing, probably especially Cas, who was not so used to being the one in need of saving.
He was going to need to take action, and fast, before Dean came up with another preposterous reason to be mad at Cas again, and pick another pointless fight. Sam's stomach rumbled, interrupting his thoughts. Man, this shipping business was starting to take over his life! He'd forgotten to eat anything today, being so preoccupied with the Destiel plan. Suddenly, an idea flew into Sam's mind and he raced into the living room, tripping over a book on the history of Witchcraft as he went.
He vaguely heard a murmur of 'Idgit' from behind him.
"Hey Dean, do you fancy going out for some food?" Sam asked, trying not to let excitement seep into his voice. Dean was sprawled across the couch on his back, his eyes closed and the plate which had once held a large slice of apple pie now resting on his chest. He made a noncommittal noise and didn't open his eyes.
"We could take Cas. C'mon, you know you like that place down the road. You can have more pie." Dean opened his eyes once at the word 'Cas' and then again at the word 'pie'. He sat up at length, giving a huge, shuddering sigh like he was making a tremendous sacrifice.
"Alright, alright. Get your coat Samantha." Sam grinned. "Where's Cas?"
"I'm here." Castiel said, having just materialised at the end of the couch behind Dean's head. Dean jumped and stood up quickly, his eyes avoiding the Angel's.
"Right, cool. Okay. Right." Dean didn't seem to know what to do with his hands. Castiel watched him curiously as he floundered, eventually resting his hands on his hips. "I'll drive." Dean squeaked, and hurriedly left the room.
Castiel turned his inquisitive gaze upon Sam, who shrugged as if Dean was just being weird and he had no idea what the hell was wrong.
"For the thousandth time, Dean. I'm sorry!" Sam said again, his hands in his lap, giving his best puppy dog eyes.
"You confused me with promises of pie! We know that damn diner closes at five! We've been there enough times, jeez." Dean hissed at him, sounding accusatory.
Upon finding that what Dean had christened the 'pie diner' was closed, the three of them had set off looking for another suitable establishment that would suit the eldest Winchester's pastry needs. It became obvious after five minutes of wandering up and down the same street in what had turned out to be a very cold night, the only place open this late that didn't look like it would come with a side serving of Salmonella or Rohypnol was a place called 'The Blue Palm'.
They went inside, after much debate, and found themselves ushered into a booth with a bottle of the house red wine before they could even blink. When they did look around however, Sam had to hide his giggle. It was too perfect. The place was large, with sparsely placed tables, each with only two chairs, hence their need to crowd into a booth. There was low blue and purplish lighting so that you had to peer at each other in the gloom… or else get really close. There were even candles on the tables, each in a royal blue loveheart shaped jar, setting off the perfect, romantic atmosphere.
Castiel, for his part, seemed totally at ease over on his side of the booth, looking around him with interest at the several other couples threading their fingers together and spooning pudding into each other's mouths. Dean glared at him, presumably angry because he was daring not to look uncomfortable with the situation.
Their waitress returned, a pretty brunette with big, full red lips.
"Are you ready to order, gentlemen?" She said in a low, sultry voice, barely carrying over the gentle piano music that wafted through the air around them.
Sam stayed silent, only because he was fully expecting Dean to pipe up with a radically inappropriate and blatantly flirtatious comment aimed at the woman before them. When nothing came, Sam turned to his brother in shock, only to find his brother absolutely transfixed on Castiel's fingers, which were dancing back and forth through the flame of the candle. Sam turned quickly back to the waitress, who was tapping her pen against her pad impatiently now, but still smiling.
"Um, can we have a few more minutes please?" He said, glancing back at Dean who had lifted his gaze to Castiel's mesmerised face now, illuminated in part by the flickering candle.
"Of course, Sir." The waitress replied pleasantly. "I'll just pour your wine."
She upturned each of their glasses and poured out the crimson liquid. Sam watched, Dean didn't stop staring at Castiel the whole time. The waitress left and Castiel's eyes flicked up to Dean's at last. He smiled, causing the hunter to immediately turn bright red (much to Sam's amusement) and turn his attention to the large glass of alcohol now in front of him.
"Seriously, Sam. This is the kind of place I make fun of guys like us for going to. And I make fun of them for going with girls." Dean complained, placing his glass back down and leaning back against his seat.
"I quite enjoy the atmosphere." Castiel said, taking them both by surprise. Sam felt Dean tense a little beside him. "The music is soothing. And although at first I found the dim lighting to be impractical and irritating, I now find it to be most aesthetically pleasing." As he said the last part, his eyes caught Dean's again, as if trying to convey a secret message.
Sam smiled and took a sip of wine, enjoying the show. "I agree." He said, smiling at Castiel warmly. "Don't you think this lighting is particularly flattering for my brother, Cas?"
Castiel blushed, mumbling something unintelligible and Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. He looked as if he was about to make a retort, but at that moment, the waitress swept back over to their table.
"Have you decided yet, gentlemen?" She asked, her voice barely above a murmur.
"Yeah, sure whatever." Dean said, clearly willing to do anything to put an end to the current conversation. "Three cherry pies."
"But Dean, I don't eat-"
"I'll have yours!" Dean hissed at Castiel, leaning towards him to shut him up before he could spit the words out. Sam laughed into his hand. Sharing food? How adorable. "He'll have the pie, please." Dean confirmed, giving the waitress his most charming smile.
"Oh… I see." The waitress said, a huff of laughter escaping her lips as she scribbled down the unusual order. "I was talking with the girls in the kitchen, we were starting to wonder if all three of you were..."
Sam's brow creased at her words. He looked around the table and saw two equally bemused expressions mirrored back at him.
"Would you like me to put two of the slices on one plate and give you a single spoon?" She enquired, looking Dean straight in the eye, her smile wider now, and her gaze flickering over to Cas every few seconds. Their faces must have been blank because she felt the need to explain further. "Many of our customers take us up on that little extra we offer. They seem to find it makes for a more… intimate setting." She gestured around her at the couples indulging in the 'one plate, one spoon' offer. They certainly looked intimate. Sam expertly turned his burst of laughter into a coughing fit.
Dean just stared at the woman, his mouth open, seemingly unable to believe what she was implying. He glanced over at Cas, who was smiling innocently, still gazing around him at the splendour of the restaurant.
"No worries." She said, after a few awkward moments of Dean not saying anything. "I'll give you one spoon between you two, and you can always ask for another one. By the looks of you two though, I doubt you'll be needing two!" She winked at Dean inclining her head once more towards Castiel, as if it weren't already completely obvious what she meant, and bustled back to the kitchen, leaving Dean staring dumbly after her.
He glanced at Sam next to him, who was still giggling to himself, and jabbed him sharply in the ribs with his elbow.
"Dude, shut up!" Dean cried indignantly. "Did she think me and Cas were gay?!"
At that, Castiel whipped his head back round, seemingly landing back in the conversation. His blue eyes grew round and surprised, and Sam could swear he heard Dean's breath catch.
"Oh come on, can you blame her?!" Sam couldn't help responding, still smiling away to himself.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!" Dean cried, loudly enough to make some couples at nearby tables look around, their mouths still filled with pudding.
"I'm quite hurt actually. She seemed to forget all about me once she picked up on the chemistry between you two-" Sam began and Dean shoved him hard in the shoulder.
"Sam! It's not funny! She-"
"Dean, it's fine, it doesn't matter." Castiel began in a low, urgent voice, placing a calming hand on Dean's arm. Dean looked down at where Cas's fingers rested on his skin and stopped talking abruptly.
"Anyway…" Sam said, starting to slide out of the booth. Dean looked up, startled. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Give you guys some privacy." Sam couldn't resist adding that last part, and he winked as he wandered off into the bluish gloom.
Dean looked up at Cas's face a little reluctantly, very aware of the heat radiating into his skin from the Angel's hand. Just a little higher up that arm is the handprint he gave me when he yanked me out of Hell, he thought, and shivered.
"You're cold." Castiel observed, and his brow creased.
"What? Oh. No, I'm just…" Just what, Dean thought, just shuddering because I was thinking about you touching me in other places? "Yeah. I'm cold. It's cold in here. Brrrr." Dean corrected himself, giving a dramatic shiver for emphasis.
Castiel's lips pressed together in concern, and he lifted his hand off of Dean's arm. Dean wanted to cry out at the loss of contact suddenly. He only felt a little pathetic for it, too. Castiel began sliding towards the edge of his seat, and Dean watched him, confused, as he stood up. Well it was a little strange, considering Angels didn't need the bathroom.
Then, before Dean could protest (though he didn't know for sure that he would have done) Cas was walking around the table and sliding in next to Dean, shimmying right up next to him until the hunter was pressed against the wall. Dean gulped. He wasn't prepared for that. He could feel Castiel's thigh pressed hotly against his own, their arms trapped together in between them. Castiel's face was very near to his, and he could see every fleck of cerulean in his shining eyes.
Dean wasn't saying that having his Angel snuggle up next to him to keep him warm had given him a boner, but he'd also be lying if he said he didn't have one. Castiel shuffled closer, as if that was possible.
Sam didn't say anything when he came out of the bathroom to find his seat had been stolen by Castiel, who was practically on Dean's lap, but that might have been on account of the warning look Dean shot him from where he was pressed into the corner. Instead, Sam smirked, took a seat opposite and waited for his pie.