Dean/Cas fic: there's an angel on my shoulder, in my hand a sword of gold (4.2k, nsfw)
9x12 coda: 4.2k, nsfw, vague spoilers for the 9x13 promo
“It’s not unlike prayer,” Cas says slowly. “The words are directed at me, even if you only intend them for yourself.”
Grantsburg is a long way from Lebanon, nearly seven hundred miles. It’s the kind of haul Dean could make in one shot if he really wanted to, two cups of coffee and two stops for gas, maybe one extra breather to piss and stretch his legs, but the sun is starting to set by the time he hits Interstate 35, the sky a slow burn as it curves around Wild River State Park and stretches down toward Minneapolis. Traffic is rush hour slow, all brake lights and people anxious to get home for dinner. Everything on the radio is either static or news, and Sam hasn’t said a word since he climbed into the car.