1 - 20 of 96 Works in Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural)
31 Mar 2020
Their final moments are upon them. They’ve played their final card and Chuck is announcing curtain call. But Dean still has a few seconds left. A few seconds to right the only wrong he’s ever truly regretted.
So Dean will do the only thing he can do. His one final move in the famous final scene of Chuck’s shitty story. Something that Chuck believed completely unfathomable. Something, that, throughout all the universes, he’d never seen – not once.
Dean is about to answer a question that Cass should have never even needed to ask.
And maybe – maybe – one last ditch effort in a world gone mad is enough to turn the tides just enough so they might hear what ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really means.
Instead of sending them to Purgatory, Michael traverses all the universes with Dean and Castiel in the hopes of finding one where good prevailed and Chuck was defeated. Along the way Dean and Castiel's relationship is put under strain.
Will Michael play mediator?
Will the alternate versions of Dean, Sam and Castiel force them to face their decisions and mend their relationship?
What ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really mean?
“Look! Sam, Dean, a play!”
And damn it all if Dean doesn’t almost swerve off the road and crash as he takes in the sign.
‘Supernatural: The Musical. And of course, Marie’s face is plastered on the side. Don’t kids ever learn anything?
“Dean hates that play.” Sam provides, as Dean continues to sulk in silence.
He hates people knowing about his life. About things that he hadn’t even told his brother… things that he didn’t want to acknowledge as real.
Cass frowns. “From what I can see it seems like it’s a fairly accurate portrayal of your lives.
“Yeah, but it’s our lives Cass. It talks about all our rough patches and fights and every bad thing that ever happened. Why would we watch it?”
“Because I want to see it. I’ve never seen a musical before.”
“Yea, well, you can barely call this a musical.” He mutters, turning on his indicator anyway.
Team Free Will 2.0 watch the supernatural play... only some things in the second act have changed.
When Dean finds out Castiel thinks they could be a good couple how will he cope?
Will he push him away?
Or will unforeseen circumstances force them to face the music?
24 Mar 2020
When Castiel does the unthinkable and says yes to be Lucifer's vessel, he couldn't have imagined just how awful things would become when the devil would use his love of Dean against him for his own amusement.
this was kinda rushed sorry !!
The body on the pyre is something neither of them wish to see.
Yet, out of respect, they hold their gaze steady, watching as Dean – or what remains of him – slowly burns.
The listen to the sickening, squelching ‘pop’ as his skull explodes from the heat.
How is he supposed to carry on without his big brother. Even in his last moments, Dean had pulled Cass close and told him to look out for Sam.
To his left Cass stands, a dissonant figure, his coat almost slipping off. The poison had been something not even angel grace could heal.
He remembers the frantic way Cass had shoved him aside when Dean fell to the floor. It had been after a hunt.
“I hate witches.” Dean gasps, hanging onto Cass like a lifeboat.
“It’s okay Dean.” Sam assured. “We’ll bring you back.”
“No.” Dean coughed, blood splattering everywhere. “We need to stop Sam. Just let me go.”
“No.” Sam insisted. “It can’t end like this. I won’t allow it.”
Dean’s eyes drift to Cass. “Promise me. You’ll watch over him. Let me go. Both of you.”
To his surprise Cass had just leaned down, pressing a kiss to Dean’s nose. Then they stared at each other.
“It was real. You were never alone.”
The plunge into darkness is sudden, but not concerning due to the bunker’s back up generators. The lack of complaint from Dean though is what gets him. His brother hadn’t even shouted out in complaint. Last he heard, Dean and Cass were watching some Western movie. Dean is always pissed when they have to pause… somehow, every part is ‘the good part.’ He truly pities Cass at this moment; Dean must be pitching a fit.
At first the outages had been but a minor inconvenience. Now, it’s maddening.
He’s been keeping a catalogue of the dates and times it’s been happening. But he could find no correlation. Sometimes it’d happen almost three times a day and others not even once. So, Sam had started analysing the reasons why this could be happening.
The bunker’s wiring was fine as far as he could tell – not like they could call in an electrician. Maybe he should ask Dean to check. His brother has always been better with this stuff.
Dean never seems to be around when this happens. In fact, it almost always happens when Dean and Cass have their movie nights.
It’s almost as if the universe is conspiring against them.
“You’re a real Cass-anova, aren’t you?” He hears Dean mumble, but his mind sounds far away. “Man, your penmanship is crappy. You got a pen?” Dean asks.
“A-at the bunker.”
Sam is straining to see what’s written on the paper but it’s too crumpled and too far away. He knew he should have brought along his binoculars.
“We have to leave then.” Dean says gruffly
When Sam enters the bunker he’s drenched in complete silence. He had expected to walk in in the middle of their blow out.
Sam’s eyes dart around looking for anything out of place. It takes him a minute but he finds a crumpled piece of paper on the map table.
Jolting forward he unwraps the note with trembling fingers.
(2) Country Holmes Apple Pie………$23.00
Lover’s Double Smoothie……………$5.00
He casts the paper aside in frustration before he can make it to the taxes. He runs a hand through his hair and he lets the paper drop.
That’s when he sees it: blue ink on the reverse side of the bill.
It’s Cass illegibly scribble alright.
Do you want to be my boyfriend?
When Cas walk out of the bunker, he decides to do something else with his time
Dean’s eyes crack open in the dim lights and he feels a slight chill.
Dim lights? He shakes himself awake. It’s supposed to be pitch black. His breath stalls in his throat. It’s Sam, eating his pie.
Light shuffling comes from the fridge followed by a pause, as though Sam is just standing there in indecision.
He finally hears the foil peel back from the baking dish. Dean winces as he hears the moaning noises coming from the fridge, almost immediately followed by the crumpling of paper. What’s he doing? Eating the whole damn pie?
He did make about five or six this time, so Sam probably assumes that he won’t notice if one goes missing. But shit, a whole pie in one sitting? Dean is grudgingly respectful.
More noises of appreciation come from behind the fridge door until, finally, he feels the chill begin to ebb and the lights begin to dim once more. Soft footfalls sound as Sam exits the room, stepping carefully over Dean’s trap, as though it wasn’t there at all.
“Freeze! Pie bandit!” he shouts, holding up his spatula like a sword.
Dean blinks in confusion as he sees Cass standing there, staring at him, confused. “Hello Dean?”
The lights that gleam in the darkness indicate that they’re close to the place Dean now calls his home. It’s made entirely out of wood, with a rocking chair of all things, in the porch. Though the windows and past the gold hued curtains he can make out a king sized bed – memory foam, no doubt – and two recliners facing the jumbo T.V. Past that, is a kitchen. Outfitted with a fridge, stove, hot plate and a small dining table… set with two chairs.
He stops on the edge of the property, turning to face Dean in shock. “You knew I’d come here.”
His shrug is anything but nonchalant. “Figured Sammy’d send you after me. But I kind of hoped that you’d want to be here too.”
“Of course I do.” His hand lingers on the door knob. “And – and what did you expect us to do when I got here?”
It’s a loaded, and he knows it. They never talked about this so openly before, but if not now… then when?
“I have two chairs.” Dean says, his hand moving over Castiel’s so that they turn the door knob together. He feels chills from the contact… from the intensity of Dean’s gaze. “I have two recliners.” Dean’s breath ghosts across his neck. “But how many bed’s do you see?”
Adam rolled his eyes at that. Michael seemed to have an obsession with punishing his half-brothers for leaving him in the Cage. “I’m not giving you permission to hurt them. It won’t do anything.”
Exactly! They didn’t do anything!
25 Jan 2020
Castiel fights to remain still under Dean’s ministrations as he swipes his thumb over the creases and sunken areas near Cass’ eyes. “You’re aging.”
“Are you – do you feel afraid.”
He looks Dean straight in the eye and with sincerity says: “No.” Because he isn’t afraid. He can still hear Dean’s prayer echoing inside his skull, like a song that had been seared into his brain. “I have you … and Sam to help me.”
“You do.” Dean’s voice is rough. Castiel realises how close to the things that should remain unspoken he’s treading, but he can’t help himself. Not when Dean is staring at him like that, eyes almost begging him to be the one to take the plunge.
“I –” Castiel clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “Maybe now I can grow old with you…” his pause is deliberate. His voice cutting off more abruptly than it should, leaving Dean with no choice than to recognise the pause for what it is; a fallacy. The barrier between what Dean perceives is right and wrong. The blockade separating the unspoken from the harrowing truth they’ve both known subconsciously for years.
And Castiel can’t bear to break it.
“… and Sam.”
MINOR SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 15x09, read at your own risk
Back when Sam and Dean were in Heaven Dean mentioned something to Sam about first time kid ran away.
Sam saw things he wished he had never seen. Dean has some flashbacks. Castiel is doing his best to comfort them.
Rating is for language and emotional abuse.
- Part 2 of Hold my hand
“You’re family, too, Cas. You’re my best friend… more than that… and I want you to know that, as soon as we make it out of here, you’ll come back with me; home. You’re gonna live with Sam and Jess and the two of you will laugh over some stupid intelligent joke Sammy just told and tease me about embarrassing childhood memories, while Jess and I stick together and make plans to prank you.” Castiel laughs happily and watches as Dean tries to keep the tears from falling.
‘You’re my best friend… more than that…’. ‘You’ll come home with me…’ These seemingly harmless sentences lie heavy in Castiel’s chest; quickening his heart rate and threatening to crush him.
“Oh, and when their child is born, we’ll spoil it like our own and I’ll be the favorite, way cooler uncle… of course.”
Castiel smiles brightly. “Of course.”
He's leaving again and there's only one thing Dean can do:
Cass.” Dean breathes a heavy sigh. “Hope you’ve got your ears on.”
Dean sees him freeze, one hand lingering on the edge of the table. After Purgatory… After Purgatory things were bad. In Purgatory, things were bad.
It was tumultuous. It brought up all the emotions that Dean doesn’t want associated with the angel right now. Like the need to kill his way through monster heaven just to find an angel who never wanted to be found.
Cass is right. He can’t talk to him; can’t look him in the eye.
But Dean can pray… not that he’s any good at that either.
The praying scene... except Cass is two feet away.
Sam’s seem some strange things in his life.
A werepire… a Jefferson-Star-Ship.
Fanfiction about him and Dean in some seriously convoluted positions.
Enough rotting corpses to drive the average human completely insane.
And yet… somehow… finding Dean propped with one leg on a chair and Cass entire head between his legs is the cheery on top the cake.
It’s not like this is a public space or anything right?
Wrong! It’s the kitchen. Of all places and Sam feels like the biggest creep alive, because in those seconds of shock, as his mind begins to process what he’s seeing, he remains completely immobilised. It’s like all the bandwidth from his normal functions has been entirely converted into the energy needed to process this – this – occurrence.
Dean and Cass.
Cass and Dean.
Worst of all are Dean’s commands. “Go up Cass. Not down.”
“Oh my God!” he shrieks.
Castiel stares at himself in the mirror while Dean fumbles around with the tapered part of his coat. He suddenly feels like a penguin… waddling around in a black and white suit.
“You look sharp.” Dean observes.
A smile flits across his face. “Thank you Dean. You look handsome too.”
“Well, we have Sam to thank.” He murmurs. “I still don’t get why he’s being so secretive and formal. I swear man, I saw him sneaking around dressed as a father. Who does he think he is… the pope?”
As Dean slips out of his room, Castiel presses his hand against his pocket, ensuring that his present is still there.
One hand reaches into his pocket and he tries to slip on an easy smile. “I have something for you Dean.”
Castiel is just retrieving the ring as Sam announces his presence loudly. It’s enough to startle an already frazzled Castiel into dropping the ring. He struggles to bend, but manages to manoeuvre himself onto one knee to pick it up.
He’s broken out of his musings by Sam’s exclamation. “Holy shit!”
“Yes.” Is all Dean says.
“Well this is entirely unnecessary.” Sam says flipping open a box with two gold rings. “Because you just proposed to Dean.”
It all starts with Jack questions Castiel about his true form. The day is filled with questions and maybe a little bit of answers. All of which Cas is not ready to face.
Dean stumbles upon Castiel crying in his room. Dean learns about Cas’ deal with the Empty and is less than happy about it.
Cass’ nose is almost poking Dean’s eye out but his face is the picture of concentration as he pinches Dean’s nose between his thumb and fore-finger, his other hand covering Dean’s mouth completely.
“Okay. What the hell?” he announces.
The thumb war is explainable, the twister was actually nice and though the dancing was strange, it has nothing on this.
“You two having a staring contest?” Sam wonders.
“No Sam.” Cass explains, picking up the stop watch. “Dean said he could hold his breath for two minutes. I didn’t believe him.”
“Ha-ha! Sucker!” Dean wheezes as the watch beeps.
“Though,” Cass rubs his chin in consideration, “A staring contest is a very good idea Dean.”
Then they both sit pull up a chair and sit, bending forward to rest their elbows on their knees in a way that pushes their faces even closer.
“Let’s begin.” Cass announces.
Dean nods once, then they stare.
By now Sam should be used to it. But as bad as they may be, they’ve never stared at each other for over two minutes before.
Sam is flabbergasted.
Cass is engineering these… games, in order to get closer to Dean. Physically closer.
And Sam wants to know why.