stall and dean

deancass-andeverythinginbetween  asked:

🎡👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨💍

“I’m still not entirely sure why this is a good idea.” Castiel looked at the large groups of people walking around, the sound of voices and music slowly flowing towards them as they stepped out of the Impala.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fun, I promise, alright?” Dean answered.

Castiel looked at the blonde as he walked over to him and held out his arm.

“Alright.” Cas smiled shyly, then locked his arm together with Dean’s.

He didn’t know how he got so lucky to be on his third date with Dean Winchester, the most handsome and sweetest guy in school. Dean was popular, Cas wasn’t, but Dean still showed interest in Cas since they got Latin together.

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Early S4 Destiel
  • Sam: Give us a hand, show us some power
  • Castiel: Good luck with that, you take a stand, me I'll sit, we'll we where we land
  • Sam and Dean: Booooo
  • Sam: Cas, the apocalypse is any day now. What do you stall for?
  • Dean: If you stand for nothing, Cas, what will you fall for?
  • Castiel: You
  • Dean: Is that right?
  • Sam: Oooo, what is this? What are you two gonna do?
2

    “What about this one?” you asked, stepping out of the dressing room stall. 

Dean turned to see you in a bathing suit, a black top and bottom. For a moment he was silent, he’d never seen you like this before. 

    “I- it fits great. he said quickly. 

Turning around, you showed him your back side. “It doesn’t show to much of my butt does it?” you asked with a smile.

FULL STORY?

Dean’s True Love

Title: Dean’s True Love
Prompt: “I hope your apple pie is freaking worth it!”
A/N: This is for @jalove-wecallhimdean #DoitlikeDeanchallenge.
Warnings: None
Summary: Sam forgot the pie…again.
Word Count: 1037
Tag: @jalove-wecallhimdean Others are below the cut.

“Hey, Y/N, can you do me a favor?” Sam asked while walking in the kitchen.
You looked up at the taller Winchester. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Can you bake Dean an apple pie?” He asked sheepishly.
“You were supposed to buy one while you were out.” You stated.
“I kinda…forgot.” He said. “I honestly forgot all about it until I walked in the door. Can you do it before he gets back?”
You sighed. “Yeah, but you owe me big time.”

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CYOSTODA-Dean Picks Truth

Our fearless leader, @littlegreenplasticsoldier started us off with Part 1 here

@gemini75eeyore followed with part 2 here

@deandoesthingstome came next with part 3 here

@klaineaholic part 4 is here


Characters: Sam, Dean, Leah, Y/N

Setting: Another no-tell motel, Crappsville, USA


Dean doesn’t respond at first so you say his name, louder this time. “Dean!”

“Huh?” He mumbles, looking dazed.

You look over at him, and you realize Dean Winchester is looking at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time.

You know how he feels. You have crossed some invisible line with the boys tonight, and there is no going back.

“Truth or Dare, Dean.” You whisper, still feeling his hand on your ass, and you bite back the moan that threatens to spill out.

You look over at Sam and he smirks at you, his knowing eyes hot and teasing. “Yeah Dean. Truth or Dare?”

Dean stalls, indecisive. Truth has always served him well, but the dares have been pretty hot so far. Dare. He’d choose dare. But Y/N was sneaky.

The horrific vision of him running around the room naked clucking like a chicken suddenly popped into his head. “Truth, I choose truth.” He blurts out before he can change his mind.

“Truth, huh?” Y/N says, and Dean knows by her tone he’s in trouble.

You turn and wink at Leah. Then pausing a moment to think, you lean forward, lick your lips and say to Dean, “so what’s your favorite thing when it comes to oral sex?”

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Lighten Up

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,334

Summary: Dean and the reader’s relationship is strained because of the Mark of Cain. He decides to make the reader have some Winter fun. 

Request by: @chaos-and-the-calm67


“Who ate all my Oreos?” You whine moping into the library.

“Guilty.” Sam chuckles making you smile and roll your eyes at the handsome dork.

You then glare at Dean who’s purposely ignoring you as he plays some stupid game on his iPhone.

“Not cool, Dean!” You say loudly making his head snap in your direction.

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Faith - Part 3

Request: Hi I was wondering if maybe you could do a rewrite of the episode faith were instead of dean getting Tased the reader does? If not that’s totally fine also.

Pairings: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader

Word Count: 1,820

Dean’s Age: 26

Sam’s Age: 22

Reader Age: ~16

(A/N): This is a rewrite of episode 12 of season 1, “Faith”.

Part 1

Part 2


“You really think it’s the Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?” Sam asked, glancing over his computer between you and Dean.

“No no no, not the reaper, a reaper. There’s reaper lore in pretty much every culture on Earth. They go by a hundred different names, it’s possible that there’s more than one of ‘em,” Dean responded, looking up from a stack of papers.

“But Y/N said she saw a dude in a suit,” Sam said, making you roll your eyes.

“What, you think he should’ve been working the whole black robe thing? Look, you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right?” you asked, receiving a nod from Sam. You grabbed the top paper from Dean’s pile and held it up. “Reapers stop time.”

“And, you can only see ‘em when they’re coming at you, which is why Y/N could see it and we couldn’t,” Dean continued, taking the paper back and putting it down rather rough.

“Maybe,” Sam stated skeptically, again making you roll your eyes.

“There’s nothing else it could be, Sam. The question is, how is Roy controlling the damn thing?” you trailed off, scanning through Dean’s papers another time.

“The cross,” Sam said, sitting up slightly. You looked at Dean, confused.

“What?”

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Just Give Me a Try

Supernatural Prompt Challenge
January: Emotions prompt: Courage
pairings: destiel
wordcount: 3438
tags: no warnings apply, meet cute at a rock climbing gym, experienced climber sam, newbie dean, dean is bi, tattooed hippie route setter cas,
ao3 x

“C’mon Dean,” Sam prods. “You think Cas is hot even though he’s a hippie, don’t you.”

It would take a hell of a lot of courage to ask a guy like Cas out on a date.


On a chilly Thursday evening, Dean’s perspective on climbing nerds like Sam changes.

Sure he’d seen some good looking people at Sam’s favored gym before, employees and fellow climbers alike. But this guy takes the cake.

How the hell Dean had never seen him before, he doesn’t know, but he’s ready to give thanks to all major deities he knows of for Sam wanting to go to this “setter’s meeting.”

Sam had explained in the car that the setters are employees of the gym who design and then install new routes on a weekly basis.

“They do all kinds of training and certification for it,” he’s saying, tapping his foot excitedly. “And it’s amazing to watch them work. Who even has the brain for that sort of thing?”

Dean just nods, pulling into the parking lot next to the warehouse which houses the gym. It looks so drab and inconspicuous on the outside, you’d never guess there’s a lively bunch of hippie rock climbers inside.

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I was wondering if you or your followers could help me find a fic? It came up in a convo today and I can't remember the title or find it anywhere! Basically it's Endverse ABO. Dean stalls a supply run and Cas goes into heat. I can't remember much else of the plot. It's pretty porny lmao... Now it's bugging me that neither my friend or I can remember the title to look it up! Any help is appreciated! Thanks! Have a lovely day/night! :)

Right now I can only think of the Croatoan ABO verse by addictcas, but I don’t know if that’s what you’re looking for. (Note: make sure you read the tags.) 

LoverAwakened also has an A/B/O endverse series.

And then there’s Never Ending by SuperWhovinator, which I thought you meant at first but it’s plot and no sex ;D

Does anybody else know of further endverse a/b/o stories in case the first two aren’t what anon is looking for?

Edit:

@castakemetochurch suggested that the fic might be Maybe we didn’t need that supply run after all by anaphiel

(Weird, that this fic didn’t show up when I searched for Endverse omega!Cas fics!)

#41- Mirror (Destiel)

Requested by an anon for my kink list.

Warning: Semi-public sex, sex in front of a mirror (obviously)

Word Count: 1200ish

“Are you sure about this?”

Cas stares into the large, three-sided mirror on the wall of the department store’s dressing area, a frown creasing his brow. Dean looks up from where he sits in a comfortable chair, immediately abandoning whatever he was looking at on his phone.

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anonymous asked:

"Were you ever going to tell me?" (18) + deamus, of course

18. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“You don’t understand, Parvati. I can’t just tell him.”

“Oh, but it’s supposed to be so easy for me to just come out and tell Lavender?”

“Well, yeah,” said Seamus, rubbing the back of his head. They were sitting in the common room, their potions essays forgotten on the table between them. “Girls talk about emotional crap like that all the time.”

“When it’s about other people, Seamus. It’s one thing for me to tell Lavender I have a crush on a cute girl from Ravenclaw and entirely different thing for me to say I have a crush on her.”

“At least Lavender knows you’re gay!”

“Dean would know too if you told him.”

“I can’t just– I’m rooming with a bunch of blokes, Parvati! What are they going to think if they find out they’re rooming with a poof? Let alone a poof that’s in love with one of them.”

“Well, I doubt Harry or Neville would mind! Ron I’m not so sure about but he’s always been a bit of a wanker.”

Seamus rolled his eyes. “Yeh just think that because he was dating Lavender.”

“Yeah, well he didn’t treat her very well did he?”

“Let me guess: yeh’d treat her better?”

“Well, I would,” Parvati said sourly, crossing her arms.

“Face it, Parvati,” said Seamus with a sigh. “We’re both helpless.”

“Well,” said Parvati thoughtfully. Seamus didn’t trust the look on her face. “We don’t have to be.”

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The Mrs. - Part One

SamXReader (eventual)

Summary: You’re a long time hunting partner of the Winchesters; to Dean you’re a best friend, and to Sam you’re just a friend. But oh how you wish you could be more. When a hunt comes up and Sam needs you to play his wife, you reluctantly agree. Now Dean is playing your fairy godmother and you’re starting to think you might just end up winning Sam’s heart.

A/N: I’m a sucker for the pretending to be married trope, and I wanted to write it! There will be a part two!

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Soul Mate - Part 1

Character(s): Dean Winchester

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,171

Fic:

           As is normal, the name appeared the day you turned twelve. You just woke up and bam, there it was in a loopy font on the underside of your wrist. Though still readable, it’s written small enough to stay out of sight when your hand is palm down. It’s rather exciting to think that you’re the only human with this name in this font on this part of your body. It makes meeting people more exciting. Any of them could be your soul mate. If they are, they’ll have your name in the same font and on the same part of their body as you do.

           All you know is that his name is Dean Winchester.

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White Wedding

Originally posted by friendlyneighbourhoodpizzaman

Characters: Sam x Reader, Sam x Becky, Dean

Word Count: 691

Request: Can you do an imagine where reader and Dean are looking for your boyfriend Sam but you find him at the alter getting ready to marry Becky.

A/N:  Okay, I’m really sorry that I’m broke my own ‘write in the order you receive requests’ rule.  But I just had to write this.  I hope this is okay, @diesintheshower.


You stretched back on the lawn chair, letting the warmth of the desert sun soak into your skin, relaxing muscles that were long over tired from running from leviathan.  So you let Sam and Dean have their brothers weekend in Vegas, lord knows they needed it, and you’d spend it relaxing by the pool.

You were almost asleep when your phone rang.  You spotted Deans number and accepted the call with a small groan.

“Don’t freak out,” Dean said quickly, and you tried not to roll your eyes.

“Why would I freak out, Dean,” you asked politely.

“So Sam left,” Dean’s voice faltered and you could almost picture the look on his face.

“Where did he go,” you said, trying to keep your voice even.

“Well, he’s still here but he’s…with Becky.”  The line went quiet and you knew Dean was waiting for your response.  You swallowed down the mixture of anxiety and jealousy that threatened to spill out of your lips in hysterical words. 

“Is she in danger or something?”  You asked smoothly, as if you weren’t discussing your boyfriend running off with the overly attached woman who was crushing on him.

“No, they’re,” Dean stopped, forcing the words out, “they’re getting married?”  You inhaled sharply, but otherwise didn’t respond.

“I see,” you replied, nodding your head even though Dean couldn’t see you.

“So, um, I guess you should get here as soon as you can.  I’ll-I’ll stall them.  Dean paused again.  “We’ll figure it out, Y/N.”  

“Yeah,” you agreed, already speed walking to your hotel room to change.


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3

The Iron Giant edits (3/?) - Dean stalling

“You guys got here just in time. This rich cat, y’know, some industrialist, he wants ‘im for the lobby of his company. He whipped out his checkbook right on the spot and I said: “Hey! You’ve got him for the rest of your life!” But, what, I gotta let go the moment I give birth? I mean, c’mon! Give me some time to cut the umbilical, man!”

How Country Feels (Part Four)

Summary: Everything is a mess but a friend pulls through. Dean and you go to check one of the herds

Series: How Country Feels (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Jo, Jess

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 2000-ish

A/N: Reader insert series. Part 4. Rodeo!AU, Cowboy!AU. Let me know what you guys think. Please read and reblog.

If I happen to use any terms that you don’t understand, please ask. I ride horses and deal with ranch stuff all the time, so if somethings confusing, I will explain it.

Tagging the squad-  @shortandlongstories @for-a-brothers-love @tigershadow @readingissupernatural  @spnfanficpond

Warnings: Language, angst


You can feel the angry tears sting your eyes as you pull the tack off Taz so he doesn’t get hurt. You couldn’t compete and you didn’t know what you were going to do so you run to find Jo. About halfway to the arena you run headlong into somebody, “Oh…I’m sorry, I just…Hey Dean, I was just trying to find Jo.”

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Your class is up in five minutes.” He holds your elbows, trying to steady you.

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I’m Still Me

Title: I’m Still Me

Characters: Sister!Reader, Sam, Dean

Word Count: 3112

Request: hi can you do an imagine where you are there sister ( like 17?) and you come home one night with a hickey?

A/N: So alright this request was pretty great to write but I wish there was more detail in the request so I could write more to what you guys want! But I love the requests nonetheless please keep sending them in! Oh and by the way just because you have had sex doesn’t make you a slut or anything. Only you can say when you’re ready and as long as you know you are then that’s all that matters!


You shuddered as you brought your coat around your shoulders, the cool burst of air sending chills up your spine. It was 1:00 in the morning, and unlike your brothers, you weren’t in the bunker sleeping. You were outside, walking back to the bunker after sneaking out. But this was nothing new to you, you always snuck out. You knew Sam and Dean would never expect that behavior from you, which made it so easy to slip out without their knowledge. To them you had always been a badass hunter but their sister nonetheless, and the moment you all found out you were related you knew you couldn’t live a life without them and they felt the same about you. So long story short, you became a hunter and lived with them, the decision mostly made out of necessity then want. When you went to live with them, you were 13, and now, at 17, you couldn’t be any closer to them. You loved them with all your heart and they knew everything about you, from your favorite color to your favorite food. But there was one thing about you that they didn’t know about, and that was your loss of innocence. From their eyes you were a sarcastic, badass, and funny girl but you were their little sister, and they thought that you were still very innocent, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. You had always been an intellectual girl who loved days where you could be curled up in a ball on the couch with a ball, but that didn’t stop you from loving the days when you could completely let loose and have some fun. When you were 15, you had sex for the very first time, and since then there had been many others who you have slept with. At first you felt like what you were doing was wrong, sneaking around and sleeping with guys, but you quickly realized that it was your body and that you knew you were ready, and if you wanted to do it you shouldn’t feel bad about. You realized that just because you had had sex several times that that didn’t define who you were. So on days when you were in the mood for some fun you went to one of the many high school parties around your town and you went their, most of the time just dancing and occasionally making out with guys, but there were times when you would hook up with a guy, and tonight was one of those nights. You had had a good time, but when you saw the time you realized that you should get back home and get some sleep so there wouldn’t be any questions as to why you were tired. 

You turned your way to the bunker and went to the side of it where you left your pajamas. You quickly slipped on the pajama pants over your shorts and put on a sweatshirt over your thin jacket. You then rubbed your eyes with your sleeve; taking off what you thought was a satisfactory amount of makeup before heading towards the door. You pulled out your key and quietly turned it, careful not to make to much sound. You then opened the door and quickly slipped inside, shutting the door behind you, when you noticed something was out of place. You saw the lights in the library on and you gulped, knowing that they usually weren’t on at this time. You immediately pulled out your knife from your shorts that you were wearing and you held it in front of you. You continued walking until you got toward the corner of the library and then you sighed before turning around the corner. What you found immediately made you lower your arm. Sam and Dean were around the table, papers scattered and their duffels packed and ready to go.  They quickly looked up at you with a confused but relieved expression.

“Where were you?” Dean asked, his voice stern. You gulped but tried to act like you didn’t do anything wrong.

“I went for a walk, couldn’t sleep.” You said casually, walking towards them. Dean didn’t seem to see a flaw in your excuse and he looked back down at the papers, shuffling things around, but the look Sam gave you seemed as though he didn’t quite believe you just yet.

“Why does it look like you were in the rain with makeup on then?” he asked. Dean then looked up at you and scrunched his eyebrows, his confusion evident to. You widened your eyes and looked down.

“Um, I must have fallen asleep with it on or something,” you mumbled, running a hand through your hair. “Why do I look that bad?” you asked, trying to change the course of the conversation. They both let out a laugh and you smiled to yourself, knowing that you successfully adverted the conflict.

“Nah I always thought raccoons were kind of cute,” Dean said, smirking a bit. You rolled your eyes and went over to him, shoving him to the side.

“What are you guys doing up anyways?” you asked, looking at the papers. You noticed they were newspaper clippings and police reports , and then you put everything together.

“Ugh don’t tell me we have another case,” you groaned, throwing your head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Oh get over it and get your stuff ready. It’s a 11 hour drive,” Sam said, putting all the papers together. You sighed but went off to your room, throwing taking the bag you always left ready in case of hunts and taking a few makeup wipes to take off your makeup. You then changed out of your clothes, taking off what was underneath your pajamas and getting more comfortable. As you finished packing the rest of your last minute things you took a moment to thank yourself for not drinking past your limit tonight and you walked out of your room. You went to the library where you found them waiting and you gestured with your head towards the garage.

“Shall we?” you asked.

“We shall,” Dean said as you all started walking toward the garage. You walked toward the impala and put your stuff in the trunk before making your way into the backseat and leaning your head against the window.

“Oh Y/N,” Sam said when you were all in the car, him and Dean turning back to face you, “Next time at least leave a note before talking a walk.” You nodded and they turned to face; you laying your head on the window as you drove off. You slept the whole ride, waking up occasionally for a few minutes as Sam and Dean stopped to switch off driving while the other slept.




“Mmm no,” you said as you felt a shove on your shoulder.

“Y/N you have to get up were at the motel and Dean’s getting our room,” Sam said, throwing your duffel bag at you. You snapped your eyes open at the sudden impact and groaned, punching your bag out of frustration for your interrupted sleep.

“Fuck you,” you said to Sam for no quite reason. He then looked at you and rolled his eyes.

“Y/N You slept for 11 hours. Stop whining,” he said, walking away from the car. You got out of the backseat and slammed the door shut.

“Maybe you should stop being an asshole,” you muttered to yourself, making a face to the back of his head as he was talking to Dean in the office. You leaned against the car and rubbed your eyes, pushing your hair out of your face.

“You coming sleeping beauty?” Dean asked, rolling his eyes. You stuck your middle finger up but nonetheless you picked up your bag and walked with them to the room you would all share. You got in and set you duffel down, immediately walking toward the bathroom. You took care of yourself and then rested your hands on either side of the sink, looking into the mirror. You then ran a hand through your hair and froze at what you saw. There along your neck were several visible hickeys.

“Shit shit shit,” you muttered to yourself as you let your hair fall.

“Everything alright in there?” you heard Dean holler to you. You looked at the door with wide eyes and nodded before realizing that they couldn’t see you.

“Yah I’m fine I just dropped something,” you quickly replied before looking back at the mirror. You then took some makeup you left in your toiletries bag and applied foundation to the areas until they were covered. You decided to leave your hair down for extra measures and you let out a sigh at your close call. Content with your work you walked out of the bathroom, throwing your bag on the bed.

“About time,” Sam said, letting out a chuckle.

“Oh Sammy when are you going to learn that girls have more necessities?” you asked, smirking at him. He rolled his eyes and took a look at the papers from the bunker that he pulled out. 

“So what do you guys think we’re hunting?” you asked, getting some coffee they made and taking a sip of it.

“Werewolf,” Dean said, coming toward the table.

“Ahh how fun,” you said, taking a look at the papers. You guys then went to talk to the police and hold interviews with the victims and witnesses, until you finally found the possible place of where the werewolf was. You three then pilled in the impala and headed toward the warehouse that you pinpointed the werewolf would be. Once you got there, around 12:00 am, you pulled out your guns with silver bullets and armed yourself with silver blades just as a precautionary measure.

“Alright Y/N and Dean make your way inside, I’ll go from the back and see if I find anything,” Sam said.

“That shouldn’t be anything new,” Dean mumbled, letting a smirk fall on his lips. You let out a small smile and Sam just rolled his eyes.

“Really Dean!?” Sam whispered screamed.

“Sam this is no time to stall. We’re professionals,” Dean said, gesturing his hand with his gun toward the back of the house. Sam gave him his famous bitch face but walked to the back of the house. You and Dean then got serious and made your way to the front of the house, quietly opening the door and quickly checking all areas, finally meeting up with Sam halfway. You pointed upstairs and gestured your head in that direction. 

Upstairs you mouthed, to which Dean nodded his head. You guys made your way upstairs silently, and once you got upstairs you noticed that a room at the end of the hallway was illuminated. You quickly went there, checking all rooms on your way, until you reached the door.

One, two, three, Dean mouthed before opening the door. You all quickly looked around the room, but found it empty. 

“What’s going on?” you asked as you neared the table toward the center, finding some papers there.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, him and Dean close behind you looking at the papers too. You started moving the papers around, checking what was on the table, and then you came to a horrific conclusion. On the table were pictures and information of past victims, each one with a x through their faces. You sighed and then noticed that a corner of a paper was sticking out. You tilted your head and pulled it out, finding a picture of a girl. But what made this picture so special was that there was no x through it.

“Dean,” you said, trailing off.

“We have to go,” Dean said. You nodded, taking the picture with you and turning around, only to be met with what you were looking for. There in front of you were 2 werewolves standing in front of the doorway. Before you had time to react they were at you, throwing you against the wall. You landed with a thud and watch Sam and Dean fight them off, and you saw Sam kill one before they were both thrown against the wall by the one werewolf; passing out from the impact. The were wolf then walked toward Sam and Dean, obviously forgetting that you were there, and you used it to your advantage. You got up, wincing from the pain, and you grabbed your knife, your gun thrown across the room. The werewolf then turned to you and at that point you lunged. You attacked the werewolf, avoiding its punch and stabbing it right in its chest. The blood splattered on you from the stab, and you wiped your face, quickly making your way to Sam and Dean and slapping them awake. Once you found out they were ok you all proceeded to getting rid of the bodies and heading back to the motel.
The car ride was quiet, everyone mostly down from the high of the hunt. Once you finally got to the motel you sighed a sigh of relief and got out of the car.

“I call the bed,” you said, jumping on the bed. Sam jumped on the other bed, claiming it as his own and Dean groaned, knowing he would have to take the couch.

“I hate you guys,” Dean said, grabbing a washcloth for himself and passing one to you and Sam. You took the rag and went to the sink, wetting the cloth and then wiping it on your face, cleaning off the blood. You then walked toward Dean, handing him the cloth and facing him. 

“Can you help me out?” you asked, moving your hair to the side. He nodded and wiped your face off and then went to your neck, cleaning the blood. You looked at the celling, waiting for him to finish, when he abruptly stopped.

“Y/N what the hell is this?” Dean asked, raising his voice. Your eyes widened at the realization of what he discovered and you quickly moved away from him, letting your hair fall.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

“It was the werewolf,” you said, trailing off. 

“What was the werewolf?” Sam asked, getting nearer to you. You looked at Dean and saw that he was furious, and not falling for your crap.

“I didn’t know a werewolf throwing you against the wall left things that looked like hickeys on your neck!” Dean said, his voice getting dangerously steady. 

“What did he just say?” Sam said, stepping towards you. You looked down and bit your lip, knowing there was no way out.

“Ok it is a hickey,” you softly said, not making eye contact.

“Who gave it to you and when,” Dean said, demanding an answer more than asking. You winced at the question, knowing he would not like your response.

“I got it yesterday,” you said. 

“Yesterday night,” Sam said, nodding his head, “Where were you? And don’t give me the taking a walk crap.”

“I was at a party.” A long silence followed that statement and you could feel the awkwardness.

“What kind of party?” Dean asked through clenched teeth.

“A high school party,” was all you needed to say. Sam ran his hand through his hair and Dean looked away.

“What else have you done?” Dean asked, voice low.

“Dean come one,” Sam said, feeling as though Dean might have gone a little far with that question but Dean wasn’t letting up. 

“What else have you done?” he said, separating every word. You took a sigh and nodded.

“I’ve,” you said, not sure if you should say the worst, but you decided that eventually you would have to say it. “I’ve had sex.”

“What!” both of the brothers screamed.

“Guy’s calm down,” you said, knowing there was no way to actually get them to calm down.

“No I’m not going to calm down. Who the fuck did that to you!?” Dean screamed.

“First of all Dean no one did this to me, it was my own choice!” you screamed, upset that he would say something like that. Once he realized your frustration he nodded, his face a bit more softer than before.

“Y/N who was this guy last night?” Sam asked, his words soft but his eyes hard.

“I don’t know his name,” you said, looking down.

“Are you kidding me,” Dean said, ice back in his voice. You shook your head and looked at them.

“And I didn’t loose my virginity to him, even though I did have sex with him.”

You said, meeting their eyes. You weren’t regretful of what you did, and though you didn’t want them to find out like this, they would just have to deal with it.

“Oh my god,” Dean said, running a hand over his face. 

“And when did you lose it?” Sam asked.

“15,” you said nodding. They were silent, not looking at you, and you couldn’t stand the feel in the room.

“Look guys, I know you both think I’m this innocent little girl, but im not. I’m 17 and I’ve seen way more than most people every will in their whole life. I can make my own decisions and I don’t regret my decisions on sex. Yes I do go out and party a lot and yesterday was one of the many times I’ve snuck out before to go to a party but I’m responsible. I’m not asking you guys to be happy that your little sister has had sex, but I’m asking you guys to trust me and my judgment.” They looked at each other and sighed, then looked at you.

“Look Y/N were not thrilled about this news but you’re right. It’s your choice and who are we to say if you’re ready or not,” Sam said.

“And Y/N, we trust you,” Dean added. You looked at them and smiled, and then hugged them. 

“Thank you so much guys it feels really good having my brothers approve of me,” you said smiling.

“Alright alright,” Dean said, showing a slight smile, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not off the hook from sneaking out.”

“Mmhmm yah sure Dean,” you said, rolling your eyes as you walked towards the bathroom.

“We’re serious Y/N,” Sam said, trying to hide the smile on his face.

“Of course you guys are,” you said, closing the door to the bathroom before they could say anything else.

“Y/N!!” Dean said, dragging out your name. you leaned against the door and laughed, shaking your head to yourself and smiling; the joy of having them accept your decisions being the best part of your night.

[Art does not belong to me. Source unknown]

Did You Fall For a Shooting Star, Castiel?

    Dean can acutely remember Castiel’s favorite song. Maybe that’s because he was the one to show Castiel the song. Or, maybe it was because it was one of Dean’s favorite songs, too. Of course, he would never in a thousand years admit that it was one of his favorite songs–God, they played it on the freaking radio–but when he was alone in the Impala, nobody around, he would comfortably sing along to it while it blasted out of his stereo speakers. Sam would give him the most incredulous look if he knew, but of course, it could never be anything compared to the eyebrow raising he gave Dean when he found out that Dean was a secret fan of Doctor Sexy, M.D. Dean had the feeling he would never live that down.

    But, all of that besides the point, for some reason, it stuck with him that Cas’s favorite song was Drops of Jupiter. More than likely it was because he spent hours listening to the damn thing. He remembered when he was taking a pointless drive through the country, passing by golden fields of wheat and stretching crops of what he assumed were carrots, when Cas appeared in the passenger’s seat beside him with only the slight ruffling of his wings signifying he had only just arrived at all. Dean was mildly accustomed to this phenomenon by this point, but seeing as he was singing loudly along to popular radio, which he commonly scoffed at, he jumped and almost instinctively slammed on the brakes. Cas looked ahead with no concern on his face, features etched with soft lines of content.

    “Dammit, Cas,” Dean growled, breathing out heavily to slow down his rapidly beating heart. “Give a guy some warning before you pop in like that.” No matter how many times Dean said that, Cas never obliged. “What do you want?”

    Cas looked over to Dean, looking almost offended. As if he wasn’t the one who appeared in my car, Dean thought bitterly. “What leads you to believe I want anything?” Cas asked, squinting his eyes in true Castiel fashion. Dean couldn’t imagine squinting like that as much as Cas did. It would hurt his face. “Do you automatically assume that whenever I come to you, I desire your assistance?”

    Dean gave him a brief glance, raising his eyebrows. “Seeing as our lives are never ending war, yes, I do. And you’ve never exactly popped in my car to have a friendly chat before, either.”

    “That’s true,” Cas responded, sounding slightly put off. “I usually only ever come if you pray for me to help you. Right,” Cas sighed, turning his gaze back to the road in front of them. “How foolish of me.”

    “Oh, come on, Cas, that’s not what I…” Dean began, then let out a huff of breath through his nose and tapped his palm against the steering wheel. “Do you need anything then?”

    “As a matter of fact, yes,” Cas’s voice sounded much less irritated now. “I need to know the name of this song.”

    Dean was so startled, he almost forgot to reply. Normally, had it been anyone else, he would have immediately shut the radio off the moment they arrived. But there was something different about Cas. Unlike Sam, or any other human, for that matter, Cas didn’t have any sort of expectations of Dean. Sam would have had a heart attack if he knew Dean was listening to a song that had been made after the 90’s. Cas, however, didn’t think anything of it. It was just his way; go with the flow. Dean didn’t have to fit into any sort of mold around Cas. In fact, he doubted Cas would even bat an eye if Dean told him he watched Doctor Sexy in his free time.

    “Uh,” Dean stammered, then composed himself. “It’s, uh, called Drops of Jupiter. Not my usual style,” Dean couldn’t help adding, “but it’s alright, as far as trash pop goes.”

    “Drops of Jupiter?” Cas repeated, completely ignoring Dean’s criticism of the modern music industry. “That’s an…interesting title. What’s it about?”

    “If I could replay it I would, so you could listen to the lyrics,” Dean said regretfully. “But can’t rewind radio.”

    “You don’t know what it’s about?” Cas sounded even more baffled now.

    “No, it’s not that I…” Dean trailed off again, growing irritated with his inability to explain human things to an angel. “It’s music, Cas, everyone interprets it differently. There’s no set meaning to a song, even if the artist says so. It’s all bullshit, whatever they say. That’s what the song means to them. Not to every person who hears it.”

    There was a brief pause, in which Cas looked exceptionally thoughtful. “What’s your interpretation of it?” He finally asked, giving Dean a wide-eyed, innocent look.

    “What’s it matter?” Dean snapped, almost instantly regretting his tone when he saw the taken aback and slightly hurt look in Cas’s round, blue eyes. The angel didn’t reply, instead looked back out the window.

    After a few moments of silence, Dean’s guilt grew and he sighed. “You kill me, Cas,” he grumbled before tightening his grip on the wheel. “I see it as a kind of goodbye song. Like, the guy is saying goodbye to someone who already left long ago, and he’s talking to her because he misses her.” Each word seemed to have to be torn from Dean’s throat, as if opening up to this angel next to him was an exceedingly difficult task, which it shouldn’t have been. “He’s saying goodbye to her even though she can’t hear him.”

    There was another silence, then a flutter of wings. When Dean looked over, he was alone once more. Unsure of whether to be relieved, embarrassed or worried, he turned the radio off (which had long since stopped playing Drops of Jupiter) and continued the rest of the drive in silence.

* * *

    It didn’t happen again until a few weeks later, when Dean went on another solitary drive. He wasn’t playing any music this time, but regardless, there was a sudden rustle of feathers and Cas was there, looking expectantly at Dean.

    “Good morning, Vietnam,” Dean said, giving Cas an identical look. “Can I help you?”

    “Why isn’t the song playing?” Castiel asked, looking crestfallen.

    “What song?” Dean asked, feigning a confused expression to stall.

    “You know what song, Dean,” Castiel answered, sounding much too angered about the damn song.

    “It doesn’t play on the radio twenty-four-seven,” Dean retorted sharply, nonetheless switching on the radio and surfing through the stations. After what seemed like eons of radio surfing, Dean shut it off, giving Cas an apologetic glance. “Sorry, buddy.”

    “It’s not your fault,” Cas replied, giving Dean a small smile before looking out the window at the trees racing by.

    “So, what, you gonna zap off to wherever the hell you usually go when you poof out of nowhere?” Dean asked, keeping his eyes locked on the road.

    “Why would I do that?” Cas inquired, squinting at Dean again.

    “Your song isn’t playing,” Dean replied, defensive. “I thought you came here to hear it.”

    “I can still come to enjoy your…sullen…company,” Cas challenged him, a teasing tone to his deep voice.

    “Yeah, you sound so thrilled to do so,” Dean shot back, letting out a subtle laugh through his nose. Nothing else was said, and after a few minutes, Cas vanished. Dean wasn’t sure if this was good or bad, peaceful or awkward. For some reason, his mind leaned towards the former.

* * *

    As an experiment, Dean began to go on his drives in solitude more often. As he’d expected, Cas showed up every time. Either he was constantly watching Dean, or he had some sort of sixth sense that told him whenever Dean was alone in the car. Either way, Cas never appeared to the Winchester brothers together (unless they specifically called, of course), but instead dutifully showed up whenever Dean found himself out in the middle of nowhere.

    Unfortunately, the song was rarely on when human and angel rode along the desolate road together. Once or twice it’d been playing, and Cas had listened with a very intent face, then smiled when it was over, bidding Dean farewell and–in the blink of an eye–was gone. When the song wasn’t on the radio at the time, he stayed for a while, asking Dean things like, “Who thought to put peanut butter and jelly together on bread to make a sandwich?” and “What exactly is the fundamental purpose of watching baseball?” More often than not, Dean had absolutely no answer to Cas’s ridiculous questions.

    One time, however, he asked, “Will you sing the song for me, Dean?”

    Dean, taken aback and having a classic knee jerk reaction, said, “I don’t sing.”

    And sure enough, that became the new thing; Cas would ask Dean everytime to sing for him, and everytime Dean would answer, “I don’t sing.” Surprisingly, as Dean had always seen him as a stubborn individual, Castiel never pressed the matter, just nodded wisely and let it go. That never stopped him from asking the next time, though.

    After a bit, Dean began to feel bad. For whatever reason, Cas obviously had great interest in that song, and constantly joined Dean in pointless drives just for the chance to hear it. Seeing as Dean had no power in any way, shape or form over the radio, he figured there was only one thing to do, and that was a trip to the local library with a blank cassette in his hand.

    It took an hour, an illegal YouTube download, and ten thousand curse words, but after a few WikiHow articles, Dean had the song Drops of Jupiter on the cassette. He flipped the library off behind his back as he sauntered across the parking lot, irritated but relieved.

    Then he was gone, heading for the wide open blue skies, the Impala’s engine purring and her wheels turning at eighty miles per hour. The windows were cracked, the sun was shining, and now all Dean had to do was wait for the angel.

    And, but of course, Cas was there with his usual rustle. As Dean had expected, upon entering the silence, Cas’s face fell. He was careful to mask it, but Dean could see that in Castiel’s eyes, he always looked forward to hearing that song. Cas gave him a smile, saying, “Hello, Dean.”

    “Hey, Cas,” Dean said in a notably brighter tone than he usually adopted when Cas was in the passenger seat. Perhaps the angel noticed, because he tilted his head slightly at Dean. Dean held up the cassette and tossed it onto Cas’s lap, a smirk on his face.

    Cas held it up with ginger fingers, eyes wide as if he were holding a baby in his hands. “What is this, Dean?” He asked, his voice mystified. He flipped it slowly over in his fingers, stroking its hard surface as if trying to memorize it.

    “Put it in and you’ll see,” Dean winked at Cas, who immediately looked hilariously alarmed.

    “Put what where, Dean?” He asked in a deliberately slow voice, not taking his eyes off of Dean’s face.

    “God, you pervert,” Dean mumbled, taking the cassette from Cas’s hands and shoving it into the cassette player. “It’s music, you dumbass,” he clarified when Cas still looked horrendously frightened. “Just…listen, would you?”

    Despite only having heard the song a few times, Castiel’s eyes immediately lit up and the fear on his face melted into delight as the first piano keys were struck. “It’s the song,” he said in a low, content tone, a broad smile on his face. Dean wasn’t sure he had ever seen Castiel look genuinely happy like that. “How did you get the song?” Cas asked, his eyes searching Dean’s face.

    “Nothing you’d understand, my man,” Dean replied, leaning back in his seat and smiling at the road ahead of him. “Just shut up and listen.”

    So, Castiel did just that. He listened over and over and over again. He listened while Dean had to stop for gas because they had been driving so long, he listened while they drove through a brief rainstorm, he waited patiently while Dean called Sam to assure him he was okay, and he listened as the sun started to go down.

    Shockingly, Dean never once got tired of the song.

* * *

    Cas leaned forward and pressed the pause button, his eyebrows furrowed together in a look of deep concentration. Dean was surprised, to say in the least; Cas had listened to that song probably a thousand times in the past month.

    “Dean,” Cas began, speaking as though he were on the brink of saying something extremely important, “I have concluded my interpretation of the song.”

    Dean felt stunned, like a lightning bolt had just gone through his entire body. “You’re kidding me,” he said, then looked over at Cas. “Are you kidding me? This was all about you wanting to interpret the song?”

    Castiel looked confused, doing his squinty eye thing again. “What?”

    “I’ve been driving around nowhere every Goddamn week and listening to that song over and over just so you could decide what you thought it was about?” Dean’s voice rose just a pitch higher with every word, a decibel louder with every syllable.

    “No, Dean, of course not,” Castiel calmly replied, understanding lighting his features. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this time with you, getting to know you and having this song as a sort of present from you to me.” Cas smiled at him.

    “Get to know me?” Dean repeated, flabbergasted. “We hardly even talk!”

    “There’s more to a person than what they say,” Cas argued softly, blinking. “For example, when there’s no other cars around, you don’t look at the road. You watch the scenery, observing it as if you were trying to memorize it. And you sing along to the song without actually singing; you just move your mouth to the words, and yet never uttering a sound.” Castiel looked to Dean, wearing a proud grin.

    “Yeah?” Dean snorted. “And what exactly does that tell you about me?”

    “Nothing,” Cas frowned. “Your mannerisms are a part of you as much as your personality is.”

    “Sure, Cas,” Dean said in an unconvinced tone.

    Cas seemed unsettled, and fell quiet for a few moments. “Well, I decided what I think the song means,” he finally said.

    “Lay it on me,” Dean exclaimed, taking in a deep breath and letting it out through his nose.

    Cas seemed pleased now. His cerulean eyes traveled back to the window as he began to talk. “I think it’s about letting go. I think it’s about someone, or something, from your past and learning to be grateful it happened or that they were in your life. I think it’s about thinking beyond your own little world and realizing how much more there is to offer, how much purpose and promise you have.” Cas took in a deep breath. “I think it’s about someone leaving, but instead of feeling left behind, you live your life and remember to say hello to them once they’ve returned.”

    Dean fell silent, suddenly wrapped in his own thoughts. His eyes were squinted against the orange light of the dying sun, and he was abruptly aware of how his foot ached from driving consecutively for so long; normally, him and Sam split the job. He was also aware of how his shoulders felt tight and tense, and how his ass was sore from sitting in the same position for so long. Screw this, he thought, swerving sharply to the side of the road and into the yellow grass. Castiel immediately reached out and tried to grab at the dashboard, crying out in fear.

    When Dean shut the car off and pushed his door open, blessed relief crawling through his limbs as he stood up, Castiel also scrambled out of the car, asking in a raised voice, “What the hell was that?”

    “C’mere,” Dean said, ignoring Cas’s outburst. He hauled himself up onto the hood of the Impala, leaning back against the windshield as if she was a recliner. He patted the spot next to him, smiling brightly at a very bewildered Cas.

    If Cas had any misgivings about this situation, he kept them to himself. He instead very cautiously, knowing Dean’s fierce love for his ‘67 Chevy Impala, hoisted himself up beside Dean, studying him and imitating his legs-out-and-crossed-with-hands-in-lap pose, looking immensely worried.

    “Me and Sam sit out here and watch the stars some nights,” Dean explained, looking at the purple and red streaked sky. “I haven’t ever watched a sunset before, though. Damn shame we don’t have beer.”

    When he looked over at Cas, he was holding a six pack in his hand. “Where the hell did you get that?” Dean asked. He had meant to sound shocked, but instead his words came out as simply amused as he grinned. Cas was an unpredictable little shit.

    “I went to a store,” Cas smiled back, hesitant but happy. He ripped a bottle out of the cardboard and handed it to Dean, pushing the rest of the pack to his side as well.

    “Woah, woah, woah,” Dean held up his hand, giving Cas an incredulous look that would have put Sam to shame. “What are you doing?”

    Cas seemed confused (which seemed to be a main point of his personality). “I thought you wanted beer,” he stammered.

    “I do, but I’m not drinking that entire pack,” Dean wrinkled his nose. “C’mon, man, it’s tradition for both of us to drink. Not just the driver. You got a death wish?”

    “Can’t say so,” Cas admitted, grabbing a bottle. “I spend enough time in heaven as it is.”

    The sun set, the moon rose, and they finished of the pack quickly. Cas offered to grab another, but Dean quietly refused. They stared at the stars, watching in comfortable silence. Dean couldn’t help but glancing at Castiel at times; he seemed awed, and Dean could easily guess why; Cas had probably watched these stars being made, been among them before. They must have seemed so insignificant from down here.

    “So why do you identify with it so much?” Dean asked softly, clenching his hands. He was horrible at in depth talks.

    “With what?” Cas asked absentmindedly, not tearing his eyes from the sky, almost as if transfixed.

    “The song.”

    “I don’t,” Cas simply replied.

    “Really?” Dean inquired, staring at Cas. “Why do you love it so much then?”

    “Because it’s deep,” Cas said slowly. “It’s more than it seems. And it was one of your secrets you showed to me.”

    Dean opened his mouth, ready to ask Cas to elaborate, but shut it and instead lifted his face to the sky as well.

    He knew damn well what Castiel meant.

* * *

    And then, the angels fell.

    Sam was barely standing, Dean felt like fear was dragging him down to the ground, Crowley was probably half dead in the church, and they had no idea where Castiel was.

    And the angels were falling.

    Had it not been so horrifying, it would have been gorgeous. They looked like falling stars; they gleamed brilliant gold in the dark night sky, falling to the earth in graceful streaks. They rained down everywhere, dotting the sky like the distinct spots on a Dalmatian.

    But instead of marveling its beauty, Dean was trying not to scream out in despair.

    Sam weakly fell back against the Impala, looking as if he hadn’t slept in years. Immediately panicked, Dean asked, “Sammy?”

    “I’m okay,” Sam said faintly, taking in deep breaths. “Dean, what’s happening?”

    Dean’s heart fell to his stomach. Sam wasn’t okay and he knew it. Nonetheless, his emerald gaze traveled back to the falling angels. “The angels…” he murmured. “They’re falling.”

    What does this mean for Cas?

    As if he had a cue, there was a crunching noise from behind the car. Instantly on guard, Dean whirled around, reaching for the gun in his jacket out of habit. Then his hand dropped limply to his side.

    Castiel was stumbling towards them, his hair a rumpled mess and his clothes dirty. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t breathe, and his steps clumsy, uneven. As he grew closer, Dean could see he was bleeding from a gash in his neck. Chills ran up his spine; Cas was an angel, he should be able to heal himself. He was an angel.

    He was an angel, wasn’t he?

    Dean hurried around the Impala, his eyes wide too. “Cas?” He asked in a hoarse voice. Cas stared at him, eyes bleak with horror, his voice rough and quiet when he spoke.

    “Metatron,” he choked out weakly. “He…he tricked me. It wasn’t a spell to lock up heaven, it was…” Agony burned in his eyes and his body clenched up, his breaths coming in tiny, rapid gasps.

    Dean knew what was happening before Cas did. His heart shattering, Dean hurried forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Cas, holding him tightly to his chest. Cas began shaking, hugging back weakly at first. Then Dean could hear the racking gasps begin to take on a rhythm, and Cas began to clutch Dean as if he was the only thing Cas had left.

    Castiel’s sobs were so strong, he could hardly gasp in air. He cried loudly, forcefully, without shame. Dean was actually glad; Cas couldn’t just keep this bottled inside. It would destroy him. But at the same time, Dean’s heart broke at the sound of Cas’s anguish. He put his hand into Cas’s hair, holding him even tighter. His other hand rubbed up and down Castiel’s back, feeling the soft texture of the trenchcoat beneath his fingertips. Cas was gripping Dean so tight that Dean could hardly breathe himself. Or was that just his grief?

    “I’m so sorry!” Castiel suddenly screamed out; in all his years of hunting, of seeing countless people die before his eyes, Dean had never heard such raw pain in someone’s voice. He had never heard such regret, horror, shame. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!”

    Dean was afraid, something he didn’t admit to himself often. He had this amazing person, his best friend, his family, in his arms falling completely apart and Dean didn’t know what to do. So, he did the first and only thing he could think to do.

    He began to hum out those first few notes, the notes he had long since memorized like he did his own name, gently laying his chin on the top of Cas’s head, gently swaying back and forth.

    “Now that she’s back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey, hey…” Dean softly sang, running his fingers through Cas’s short hair. “She acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there’s a time to change…hey, hey, hey…”

    Cas was beginning to go limp, becoming too exhausted to even cry much longer. Dean sang a little louder, half hoping to drown out Cas’s heartbreak with his voice.

    “But tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded, and man,” Dean let out a short laugh, “heaven is overrated.”

    Castiel was shaking now, his fierce grip on Dean’s leather jacket slowly unwinding. “Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star?” Dean’s voice began to wobble. “One without a permanent scar?” He gulped, falling silent for a few heartbeats, then sang again. “And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?”

    For whatever reason, that line seemed to get to Cas and the sobbing came full force all over again. Dean held him tighter, gingerly pressing his lips to the top of his head. “Now that she’s back from that soul vacation, tracing her way through the constellation, hey, hey, hey.” Cas hadn’t cried so hard before. “She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo, reminds me that there’s room to grow, hey, hey, hey.”

    Dean’s voice rose, lifting his words to the sky above, where angels fell like snow. Now that he’s back in the atmosphere I’m afraid that he might think of me as plain ol’ Jane. Told a story about a man who was too afraid to fly so he never leaves land.”

    “I’m so damn sorry!” Castiel screamed, clinging to Dean as if he were a burr.

    “But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day and head back to the Milky Way?” Dean’s voice was soft again, letting Castiel hear his grief, let him scream out his soul to the heavens (which was probably a bad way of putting it).

    “And tell me, did Venus blow your mind? Was it everything you wanted to find? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?”

    Dean knew Sam could hear them. Dean knew his stupid song wouldn’t be enough to put Castiel back together. Damn, he knew nothing he did right now mattered; the world was practically ending. But he knew he had to try, didn’t he?

    Didn’t matter. He would anyway.

    But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?

    Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

    And head back toward the Milky Way?

    And tell me, did you sail across the sun?

    Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded

    And that heaven is overrated?

    And tell me, did you fall for a shooting star,

   One without a permanent scar?

   And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself?

    Cas slowly calmed down, his cries eventually becoming ragged breaths. Dean knew he had to be utterly exhausted. One more time, he ran his fingers through Cas’s hair, suddenly aware of the vulnerability both of them had shown. Feeling slightly flustered and embarrassed, he almost had a typical Dean knee-jerk reaction. However, he allowed himself to keep his hold on his fallen angel. It felt nice, to hold him.

    For a moment, it felt like he could actually doing something right.

    “Na, na, na, na, na na, na, na,” Dean hummed softly, bracing himself and planting a kiss on the top of Castiel’s head. His heart pounded at the intimacy of the gesture, wondering in half panic and half curiosity how Cas would react.

    Castiel just held him tighter and whispered, “Thank you, Dean.”