grey sky music

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((Posted feb 15th, 2017))

Request: Like I’m Flying

Request: hey could you do one where they go to a theme park and castiel is ironically afraid of hieghts???

Word Count: 865

Here it is, I hope you like it! Thanks!<33

“Aw, come on!” You whine, rolling over and only just catching yourself before you fall off of the bed, “It’ll be fun.”

“We have to get going, Y/N.” Sam shakes his head miserably. He wants to go just as badly as you do, but there’s a hunt waiting.

“We’ll just spend a few hours there.” You promise, “Maybe just a couple or rides. Have a laugh. Cas has never been to a funfair!” You beg, “Come on. You can’t deprive him, right Dean?”

“Don’t bring me into this.” The elder Winchester rolls his eyes. At this point, it’s a battle of nerves. You’re not going to give in, but Sam… Sam has some wriggle room, and you both know it.

“We never get a break.” You say forlornly, “And I’m sick of hunts. I just want to spend a couple of hours being normal and then we can go back to crazy. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, Sam?”

Oh, it’s a low blow. You know it is – but it works. You grin as he narrows his eyes at you, and you know you’ve won.

“Fine.”

***

It’s like magic – you pay your dollar each to get into the park and the moment you’re through that gate, it’s like the whole world morphs around you. Suddenly, the grey sky is alive with music and screams, with people yelling from their stands and games, with the smell of greasy, carcinogen-packed funfair food, with lights and colours. The whole place has a dreamlike quality and you grin, absorbing the atmosphere for a moment.

The three of you go on the Waltzers first. You spin around (probably too) fast, nearly bringing up your dinner but yelling in delight as you spin and spin and spin, pressed against your seats by some invisible force. You watch all three guys as they slowly let go of their inhibitions, and you laugh, throwing your arms in the air as the chair twirls once again.

You then hit the bumper cars. You all take a car to yourselves, and it’s all out war. Every man out for himself. You laugh with glee as you skid into Dean, sending his car flying into Sam’s. The pair of them launch an attack on you, and you nearly swerve into Cas trying to get away. He merely laughs, giving chase to the men behind you.

You stop for lunch after that, downing watery cola and greasy fries. You don’t mind, though. Then, it’s onto the carousel (your horse was called Bobby, which you thought was brilliant) and the rollercoaster, and the go-karts and everything you can think of. Finally, though, you decide to hit the Ferris wheel.

“Ever been on one of those before?” You nudge Cas as you wait in line. He looks up and shakes his head, eyes fixed on the top car. You grin.

“Never.”

“It’s brilliant. I bet we’ll be able to see the whole town from here.” You grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “It feels like flying.”

Cas swallows and nods.

“Sounds…fun.”

You finally get your car – Sam and Dean take the one in front and you and Cas take the one behind it.

“Ready?” You offer as the ride begins to move upwards. Cas stiffens, grabbing a hold of your wrist. Your eyes widen, and you place a hand atop his.

“Are you alright?” He’s been fine on all the other, faster, riskier rides. He nods stiffly, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.

You keep moving upwards, and his hand never leaves your wrist. You smile to yourself, keeping a half-eye on him as you rise above the other rides. The fairground expands beneath you, a field full of ant-sized people scurrying around. You grin – you’re almost at the top, and you can see everything. The fairground, the field around it, the houses beyond that, all the way to the horizon.

You look over at Cas, who has his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You look at him, reaching over and taking his hand in yours.

“Okay?”

“Not really.”

“Don’t like heights?”

“Not in the slightest.” He shudders, flinching as a gust of wind rocks the car. You squeeze his hand.

“We’re all scared of something.” You chuckle at the irony of it, “But it’s fine. Hey – look at me.”

The poor angel looks like he’s about to throw up, and he inches one eye open to look at you.

“That’s it. Focus on me. It’s better than closing your eyes, ‘cause then all of your other senses go mental. Now,” You smile slightly, “We’re going down, okay? Just a minute.”

He nods, relaxing slightly. You know you’re safe – so does he, really. There’s something hilarious about a fallen angel being afraid of heights. Nonetheless, you keep encouraging him, distracting him from the situation at hand by talking about other things. By the time you reach the bottom, he’s calmed down considerably.

“Next time,” You promise, finally letting go of his hand as you climb out, “We can fly the easy way.”