Fic: Scarecrows don't talk, part 19/? in Oz
Scarecrows don't talk
1000 words, SPN Dean/Castiel slash. Spoilers for all of season 4.
Thanks to kayote_pb_rl for agreeing to take part in my madness!
Continuing my Welcome to Oz series. Master post of links here.
So it turns out the Mayor wasn’t kidding .
Scarecrows don't talk
Day 6
So it turns out the Mayor wasn’t kidding about the embargo.
Dean and Castiel get a relatively early start in the morning, and begin with stopping by their friendly neighborhood shops and restaurants-all of whom turn them away. Most storekeepers close the doors and lock them when they see Dean and Castiel coming, pretending not to hear the subsequent knocks. The ones that don’t beat Dean and Castiel to the punch simply refuse to make eye contact, won’t speak, and ignore their money. Dean seriously contemplates walking out with his pockets stuffed full of candy that the clerk wouldn’t accept money for-because hello, free candy-but the hard look Castiel gives Dean makes him feel guilty enough to put it all back. Castiel can be such a downer sometimes.
“You can’t come in here,” Henry says at the entrance to Gale’s Groceries and Goods.
“Why?” Dean replies.
“You know why,” Henry says. “Mayor’s orders.”
“And what the Mayor says, goes,” Dean says glibly. “Because that’s how democracy’s supposed to work.”
Henry shakes his head. “I’m not going to argue with you, Dean, because this isn’t right. But I got a store to take care of, a family-and I’m not going to make my life or theirs more difficult than it has to be. My kids have already gone through enough moving all the way out here.”
“Let me buy a few things,” Dean says, pitching his voice low. “I’ll give you $200 for fifty bucks worth of stuff. All we need is some food to get by.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Henry says, and he seems regretful. “I don’t want to have to call the police.”
“There’s police in Mountaindale?” Dean says, surprised.
“Well, volunteer police,” Henry amends. “Look, just get out of here. I don’t want a scene.”
“You worried you’ll scare the customers away?” Dean raises an eyebrow.
“I’m worried I’ll scare my daughter, who’s watching us right now,” Henry says without turning his head. Dean glances over at the window where a seventeen-year-old girl with mousy brown hair and thick, round glasses is watching them. “Please.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dean sighs. “Come on, Cas--I mean, Jimmy.”
The rest of the day is just as frustrating. Eventually, they even attempt to get an audience with the Mayor (Castiel insists they have to at least try to reason with him). Alana, it seems, is the only one left in town still allowed to talk to them, but she makes clear that until Dean and Castiel start acting like upstanding pillars of the community (whatever the hell that means), the Mayor is operating on a strict ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’ basis. Unfortunately, she also proves impervious to Dean’s considerable charms, merely looking over her glasses disapprovingly at his attempts to flirt and cajole.
It’s early evening before Dean and Castiel return to Elysian Drive, and Dean notices more than a few faces in the windows disappearing as soon as his car pulls around the corner. “Wanna go meet the neighbors, Cas?”
“Not particularly,” Castiel says, but follows Dean to the Rockwell home anyway.
Dean starts by knocking and ringing the doorbell a couple of times. He notices a flutter of movement in the window curtains and bangs the door again, harder. “I know you’re in there. Norma? Ray?”
They go from door to door for about an hour with the same results: all the residents huddle inside their homes and pretend not to be home, even the ones that can’t help themselves and peer out the window where Dean can see them. He’s prepared to holler all night if he has to, and only stops when Castiel puts his head in his hands and takes a seat on one of the neighbors’ front steps.
“You okay?” Dean asks.
“No,” Castiel replies, shoulders hunching forward in a portrait of abject misery. “The pain is indescribable.”
“Pop some pills, man.” Dean crouches down next to him.
“I’ve already exceeded the recommended daily amount,” Castiel states, and it would be almost funny if it didn’t seem like he was about to keel over from skull-splitting pain.
“Alright, well, we should be getting home anyway. No one’s coming out to talk to us tonight,” Dean says, and he takes Castiel’s arm to guide him.
Dean settles Castiel on the couch when they get back, and goes to the kitchen to heat up some rice and beans (there’s only so many times Dean can have mac and cheese in a row). He brings a bowl over to Castiel when it’s ready, and sits down next to him.
They begin eating on the couch together, and Dean says, “I think we’ve been going about this all wrong.” Castiel nods slightly to indicate that he’s listening, but doesn’t respond. “We’ve been fighting the Mayor and everyone else, when really we should be getting the people on our side.”
“Our side?”
“Yeah, you know, organizing the people, viva la revolucion,” Dean says.
“You want to convince everyone in Mountaindale to rebel against the Mayor?” Castiel says.
“Exactly,” Dean says. “They gotta be sick and tired of dealing with his crap too, right? So we tell them they don’t have to take this shit, and if we all band together, we can make some changes around here.”
“I don’t think the Mayor will simply concede to your superior numbers, Dean,” Castiel says.
“Probably not. But then we do a little rabblerousing-get ourselves a pitchfork-wielding angry mob to storm the gates of City Hall-and he’ll have to listen to us.”
“I don’t know about this plan.” Castiel finishes his rice and beans and puts the empty bowl on the end table.
“What’s not to know? It’s a great plan,” Dean says defensively. “Sure beats praying.”
Castiel casts Dean an annoyed look. “If what the Mayor says is true, and he is a representative of the United States government, he could very well summon his own military reinforcements.”
“And exterminate a whole town full of US citizens? Not a chance,” Dean says confidently. “The worst thing that could happen is that they drag us out of here for treason and bam, problem solved. We’ve escaped Mountaindale.”
“I don’t know if being transferred from one secret government facility to another constitutes escape, Dean,” Castiel says with some skepticism.
“Details, man,” Dean says. “You got a better plan?”
“No,” Castiel admits. “But prayer-”
“Good,” Dean cuts Castiel off with a clap on the back. “It’s settled then.”
“Maybe we should simply--” Castiel stops.
“Simply what?” Dean prompts when Castiel doesn't reply immediately. “Give in to the Mayor?”
“Are his demands so unreasonable?” Castiel asks. “We’re drawing a lot of attention to ourselves this way, and if we gave the appearance of cooperating then at least we could buy more food. Go to restaurants again.”
“You’re thinking about those curly fries, aren’t you?” Dean accuses.
Castiel’s mouth flattens into a line. “We are going to run out of food very quickly, Dean.”
Dean gets up and shakes his head. “You giving up already?”
“No, I--” Castiel sighs. “My head hurts.”
“Right,” Dean says after a pause, and he grabs Castiel’s empty bowl from the table. “Get some sleep then, will you? You look like shit.”
Castiel nods and goes upstairs while Dean puts away the dishes. Castiel might be willing to just fold after a little pressure, but not Dean. He’ll be damned before he lets some power-crazed bureaucrat make him into some kind of Stepford suburbanite. He'll figure out a way to foment some serious dissent and stoke the flames of insurrection, with or without Castiel’s help.
Onto the next chapter: Now which way do we go?
1000 words, SPN Dean/Castiel slash. Spoilers for all of season 4.
Thanks to kayote_pb_rl for agreeing to take part in my madness!
Continuing my Welcome to Oz series. Master post of links here.
So it turns out the Mayor wasn’t kidding .
Scarecrows don't talk
Day 6
So it turns out the Mayor wasn’t kidding about the embargo.
Dean and Castiel get a relatively early start in the morning, and begin with stopping by their friendly neighborhood shops and restaurants-all of whom turn them away. Most storekeepers close the doors and lock them when they see Dean and Castiel coming, pretending not to hear the subsequent knocks. The ones that don’t beat Dean and Castiel to the punch simply refuse to make eye contact, won’t speak, and ignore their money. Dean seriously contemplates walking out with his pockets stuffed full of candy that the clerk wouldn’t accept money for-because hello, free candy-but the hard look Castiel gives Dean makes him feel guilty enough to put it all back. Castiel can be such a downer sometimes.
“You can’t come in here,” Henry says at the entrance to Gale’s Groceries and Goods.
“Why?” Dean replies.
“You know why,” Henry says. “Mayor’s orders.”
“And what the Mayor says, goes,” Dean says glibly. “Because that’s how democracy’s supposed to work.”
Henry shakes his head. “I’m not going to argue with you, Dean, because this isn’t right. But I got a store to take care of, a family-and I’m not going to make my life or theirs more difficult than it has to be. My kids have already gone through enough moving all the way out here.”
“Let me buy a few things,” Dean says, pitching his voice low. “I’ll give you $200 for fifty bucks worth of stuff. All we need is some food to get by.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Henry says, and he seems regretful. “I don’t want to have to call the police.”
“There’s police in Mountaindale?” Dean says, surprised.
“Well, volunteer police,” Henry amends. “Look, just get out of here. I don’t want a scene.”
“You worried you’ll scare the customers away?” Dean raises an eyebrow.
“I’m worried I’ll scare my daughter, who’s watching us right now,” Henry says without turning his head. Dean glances over at the window where a seventeen-year-old girl with mousy brown hair and thick, round glasses is watching them. “Please.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dean sighs. “Come on, Cas--I mean, Jimmy.”
The rest of the day is just as frustrating. Eventually, they even attempt to get an audience with the Mayor (Castiel insists they have to at least try to reason with him). Alana, it seems, is the only one left in town still allowed to talk to them, but she makes clear that until Dean and Castiel start acting like upstanding pillars of the community (whatever the hell that means), the Mayor is operating on a strict ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’ basis. Unfortunately, she also proves impervious to Dean’s considerable charms, merely looking over her glasses disapprovingly at his attempts to flirt and cajole.
It’s early evening before Dean and Castiel return to Elysian Drive, and Dean notices more than a few faces in the windows disappearing as soon as his car pulls around the corner. “Wanna go meet the neighbors, Cas?”
“Not particularly,” Castiel says, but follows Dean to the Rockwell home anyway.
Dean starts by knocking and ringing the doorbell a couple of times. He notices a flutter of movement in the window curtains and bangs the door again, harder. “I know you’re in there. Norma? Ray?”
They go from door to door for about an hour with the same results: all the residents huddle inside their homes and pretend not to be home, even the ones that can’t help themselves and peer out the window where Dean can see them. He’s prepared to holler all night if he has to, and only stops when Castiel puts his head in his hands and takes a seat on one of the neighbors’ front steps.
“You okay?” Dean asks.
“No,” Castiel replies, shoulders hunching forward in a portrait of abject misery. “The pain is indescribable.”
“Pop some pills, man.” Dean crouches down next to him.
“I’ve already exceeded the recommended daily amount,” Castiel states, and it would be almost funny if it didn’t seem like he was about to keel over from skull-splitting pain.
“Alright, well, we should be getting home anyway. No one’s coming out to talk to us tonight,” Dean says, and he takes Castiel’s arm to guide him.
Dean settles Castiel on the couch when they get back, and goes to the kitchen to heat up some rice and beans (there’s only so many times Dean can have mac and cheese in a row). He brings a bowl over to Castiel when it’s ready, and sits down next to him.
They begin eating on the couch together, and Dean says, “I think we’ve been going about this all wrong.” Castiel nods slightly to indicate that he’s listening, but doesn’t respond. “We’ve been fighting the Mayor and everyone else, when really we should be getting the people on our side.”
“Our side?”
“Yeah, you know, organizing the people, viva la revolucion,” Dean says.
“You want to convince everyone in Mountaindale to rebel against the Mayor?” Castiel says.
“Exactly,” Dean says. “They gotta be sick and tired of dealing with his crap too, right? So we tell them they don’t have to take this shit, and if we all band together, we can make some changes around here.”
“I don’t think the Mayor will simply concede to your superior numbers, Dean,” Castiel says.
“Probably not. But then we do a little rabblerousing-get ourselves a pitchfork-wielding angry mob to storm the gates of City Hall-and he’ll have to listen to us.”
“I don’t know about this plan.” Castiel finishes his rice and beans and puts the empty bowl on the end table.
“What’s not to know? It’s a great plan,” Dean says defensively. “Sure beats praying.”
Castiel casts Dean an annoyed look. “If what the Mayor says is true, and he is a representative of the United States government, he could very well summon his own military reinforcements.”
“And exterminate a whole town full of US citizens? Not a chance,” Dean says confidently. “The worst thing that could happen is that they drag us out of here for treason and bam, problem solved. We’ve escaped Mountaindale.”
“I don’t know if being transferred from one secret government facility to another constitutes escape, Dean,” Castiel says with some skepticism.
“Details, man,” Dean says. “You got a better plan?”
“No,” Castiel admits. “But prayer-”
“Good,” Dean cuts Castiel off with a clap on the back. “It’s settled then.”
“Maybe we should simply--” Castiel stops.
“Simply what?” Dean prompts when Castiel doesn't reply immediately. “Give in to the Mayor?”
“Are his demands so unreasonable?” Castiel asks. “We’re drawing a lot of attention to ourselves this way, and if we gave the appearance of cooperating then at least we could buy more food. Go to restaurants again.”
“You’re thinking about those curly fries, aren’t you?” Dean accuses.
Castiel’s mouth flattens into a line. “We are going to run out of food very quickly, Dean.”
Dean gets up and shakes his head. “You giving up already?”
“No, I--” Castiel sighs. “My head hurts.”
“Right,” Dean says after a pause, and he grabs Castiel’s empty bowl from the table. “Get some sleep then, will you? You look like shit.”
Castiel nods and goes upstairs while Dean puts away the dishes. Castiel might be willing to just fold after a little pressure, but not Dean. He’ll be damned before he lets some power-crazed bureaucrat make him into some kind of Stepford suburbanite. He'll figure out a way to foment some serious dissent and stoke the flames of insurrection, with or without Castiel’s help.
Onto the next chapter: Now which way do we go?