Dean was sitting cross legged in front of the Eiffel Tower painting, painstakingly working the details of a tan trenchcoat onto the canvas.
He startled slightly, turning back to look at Cas with a big grin on his face. “Hey! It’s like five in the morning. You should be sleeping off that booze.”
“You should be sleeping, too.” Cas crossed the floor and joined Dean, leaning into his shoulder as he sat. He studied the figure on the canvas. “Is that me?”
“Yeah,” Dean beamed. “The landscapes were so stark and empty, and I knew something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what. I thought about the things in my life that bring the color in, and the main one was you, so -” Pink filled his cheeks. “It just made sense. The color in my bleak landscape is you. The bright spot in all of this darkness. It’s you.”
rumbling sound of the Impala’s engine is the first thing that Castiel
recognizes when he wakes up. He blinks, heavy eyelids opening, his head
throbbing painfully. His cheek is pressed against cold glass, uncomfortably so.
The Impala’s backseat; that’s where he currently is. When gazing out of the
window, Castiel finds that it’s dark outside, the stars and moon hidden behind
a thick layer of clouds. Staring at the passing houses and trees, Castiel
shifts against the leather.
his memories return, and Castiel feels annoyed above all else. During hunts
that involve witches, it’s rather inconvenient to no longer run on full power. Granted,
these days, Castiel feels more human than angel most of the time, even with his
remaining grace. Still, it stings whenever he’s harshly reminded of the fact
that he’s no longer all that invincible.
temple, Castiel shifts again, feeling sore. Sore, but thankfully already
that his ears register the conversation that Dean and Sam Winchester are having
in the front.
give it to you man, took you less than ten seconds to put that witch down, has
to be a record, even for you.” Sam is the one speaking, praising Dean for ending
the hunt had been successful then, Castiel is pleased to find out that it hadn’t
all been for nothing.
Dean starts to answer his brother, voice gruff. “She shouldn’t have freaking
touched my angel.”
freezes, holding his breath. There’s a noisy snort from Sam.
A warm, euphoric
sensation spreads itself through Castiel’s very grace as he realizes what Dean just
“Your angel, huh?” The younger Winchester
teases his older brother.
displeased grunt from Dean.
Sammy. You know what I mean.”
yes.” Is Sam’s nonchalant response. “I think I do, Dean.”
that follows from Dean’s side says enough, enough for Castiel to understand. Dean is not even defending himself, and
Castiel likes it.
drifts off to sleep again, Castiel feels less terrible about failing. Feels
less terrible about being a little less durable, knowing that no matter what, Dean will always see him the same way.
(that time Dean and Charlie had A Very Important Talk)
“Heya, kiddo. How’s it hanging?” Dean slid into the chair kiddy-corner to Charlie at the table, a nervous smile on his face, mug in hand.
Charlie raised an eyebrow at him, “’How’s it hanging?’ Did you get a brain injury or is there something you need to talk to me about that’s making you act like a creepy uncle?”
Dean rolled his eyes, “Am I not allowed to ask how you’re doing? Is there a rule I’m unaware of?”
“Dean.” She demanded, not buying what he was selling at all.
“I’m genuinely curious, Charlie. You know… you were gone for months. We thought you were dead.” He continued, more firm this time.
Charlie felt a pang of guilt at his words. She’d faked her death using a spell she’d found on the codex and fled the country for a while. She came back when she heard crazy news stories and knew the boys could use all the help they could get.
“I’m fine, Dean. No desire to use dark witchy magic again any time soon, no physical injuries and I’ll live with the emotional ones. Now spill.”
I went to my cousin’s soccer game, hence single parent!cas and uncle!dean.
“DON’T BE AFRAID TO HURT THEM, MARIKA, THEY HAVE SHIN GUARDS!”
Dean’s eyes widen as he looks to the woman on his right, her face red from yelling. She’s been muttering about buying Soccer for Dummies and coaching the team herself for about twenty minutes, and smiles, razor sharp, when she realizes Dean is watching. Huffing a nervous, terrified grin back, the eldest Winchester looks to his sister-in-law. “These people are crazy,” he says to Jess under his breath. “The kids are friggin’ seven years old.”
Jess grins and shrugs, re-settling on their blanket. Reaching over, she rifles through her purse before pulling out a package of Twizzlers. Dean takes one. “Geena gets really into it,” she murmurs back. “Her kid Marika hangs out with Daisy at school.”
Dean nods, eyes turning to the field and the two girls giggling near the nets. “They don’t look like they’re too concerned with winning,” he replies.
Jess’s smile turns fond. “Yeah, they’re just in it for the fun.”
Sam had been like that, too, Dean remembers, for that one summer they’d been able to afford soccer. It’d also been the year Dean had ended up in the hospital for malnutrition; because paying food for two people was way more expensive than food for one bite-sized one.
On the field, Daisy’s brown curls bounce as she runs towards the bench, plopping down next to another girl. The other child is so small her feet barely touch the floor, and she has a long braid that goes to her waist. Daisy nudges her and grins, and the other girl gives a hesitant smile back.
CAN I JUST SAY THAT IT HAS BEEN MADE CLEAR THAT A SHOW CAN HAVE QUEER REPRESENTATION BETWEEN TWO MAIN CHARACTERS BY DEMONSTRATING INTIMACY AND THE CHARACTERS’ TRUE FEELINGS FOR ONE ANOTHER WITHOUT KISSING OR ANY OTHER SEXUAL ACT CANONICALLY. BYE.