Something about Fate
Dean decides to go to a new psychic in town - just for the hell of it, of course - with his roommate Castiel, and doesn’t get the reading he was expecting.
“Hey, Cas, have you ever been to a psychic?”
Dean watched as Castiel looked up from his book with his eyebrows pinched together.
“No.” A pause. “Why do you ask?”
“Garth texted me. Apparently there’s one in town that he went to yesterday and he’s obsessed. He said she really knows her stuff.”
Castiel raised an eyebrow before returning his attention to the textbook he had sprawled across their kitchen counter, so he could eat and study at the same time - a sight that was not all that uncommon in their apartment.
“Psychics don’t exists, Dean,” he said, matter-of-factly, as he turned the page. “People who claim to be psychic are scammers hoping to draw in the desperate or the gullible. Garth is the latter, I’m afraid.”
“Hey, he’s not -”
“Remember when Gabriel told him that stop signs with a white rim around them were optional?”
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out a stool on the opposite side of the counter from his roommate.
“Duh, Cas. I know that they aren’t legit. Everyone does. But at the very least they’re supposed to be super good at reading people and then you essentially pay them to tell you what their first impression of you is.”
A small smile crept its way across Castiel’s face.
“I could tell you that for free, you know.”
Dean flipped him off as he got up and pulled out an apple from the refrigerator, not even bothering to look back as he did so.
“Whatever. I think it could be kind of cool.”
“Then by all means…” Castiel wrote something down in a notepad and flipped to the next page. “I think you should do it. I have free time tomorrow if you’d like to find this psychic then.”
Dean tossed the apple between his hands.
“You’d come with me?”
“Of course. I would never miss the opportunity to witness someone predicting your death.”
Castiel laughed as Dean flipped him off again.