SPN Fic - Title - Between the drinks and subtle things - PG 13
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Between the drinks and subtle things
Author: bluemoondreamer
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Summary: Season 5. Sam, Dean and Cas drink to their recently fallen friends.
Note: Spell checked, and that's about it. Let me know if you find something I need to fix.
Written for the 2012 challenge at adventchallenge Prompt #17 Raise a glass for everyone
Five days till Christmas and just about everywhere Dean went he could physically taste the holiday spirit.
Sometimes literally.
It was disgusting.
The last town in which the brothers worked a case had a typical hole-in-the-wall bar on the edge of city limits. The place was decked out to the nines with all the classic winter trimmings - which was bad enough in Dean’s opinion - and to top it off, the only beer they had left on tap was some crazy fru-fru holiday special.
Seriously, beer with cinnamon and nutmeg? What the hell were they thinking?
Predictably, the next bar Dean walked into was also sporting a crap-ton of sparkly red and green decorations, but he was hopeful for some small amount of normalcy as he approached the bar.
“Please tell me you’ve got a regular brew on tap?” Dean asked the cute bartender as soon as she turned to him.
“You bet’cha!” She responded, with a particularly perky Christmas spirit. Her floppy Santa hat was just barely brushing her shoulder. “Coors or Bud?”
“Coors, make it a pitcher, and three glasses.” Dean slapped a twenty on the counter and a flirty smile on his face. A sign on the wall behind her caught Dean’s eye. “And some of those ‘County’s Best Chili Fries‘, too.”
“Coming right up.” She filled a large pitcher from the tap and went to pull down three glasses from a shelf above the back counter. Dean couldn't help taking a peek at the line of skin on the girl’s back that showed as she stretched up high.
He caught himself as she was starting to turn and quickly glanced away. Dean looked back towards the front window where Sam and Cas had managed to snag a booth. Cas was distracted with drawing something in the frost on the window with his finger while Sam had his head up and was eyeing the room for possible danger and exits. Good. Dean’s thoughts were still layered with anger from his brother’s betrayal the year before. Seems like Sammy still remembers something of being a hunter.
Dean turned back to the bar as the glasses were set down. “Okay, gonna put the order in. Anything else you want?“ The bartender asked. Dean shook his head. “Right then, fries will be out to you in a few minutes.“ The girl turned away and headed to the kitchen window. He gathered up the glasses and pitcher and made his way back to his brother and the semi-angel.
“So what’cha drawing there, Cas?” Dean set the glasses down and slid into the booth next to the angel. Sam took the pitcher and started pouring.
“It’s an Enochian symbol for protection and warmth.” Cas shivered deeper into his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck one more time. “Loosing some of my grace has effected how I can block the weather, it seems.”
Dean handed him a glass. “Here, drink some beer. It should warm you up in no time.”
---
“You know, these chili fries might just be the best in the country, if not just the county.” Castiel licked the last of the chili sauce off his fingers. “If I still had all my powers I could go check.” He added with a pang of wistfulness. In the past hour or so he had warmed up - thanks to Dean’s advice or the magic of the symbol he didn’t know - and had shed not only the scarf and trench coat but his suit jacket as well. His shirt sleeves, he had rolled up to avoid accidentally brushing them through the chili.
“Cas, don’t think about it too hard. So you’re loosing some of your powers, doesn’t mean we’re going to kick you to the curb, right Dean?” Sam stared at his brother. “Dean?”
With the fries gone, Dean had busied himself with watching the tail end of their second pitcher of beer swirl around the bottom of his glass. Startled by a kick to his shin, he slammed the glass down and looked up.
“Huh? Whazzup Sammy?”
“What were you thinking about?” Sam asked gently. He knew when Dean started acting this melancholy it was due to something big and Sam had to make sure to speak slowly so as not to break Dean’s mood. Dean hardly ever spoke about anything that bothered him, but over the years Sam learned a few tricks to get Dean to open up.
One of which was more alcohol.
Sam waived at the bartender, pointed to the pitcher and held up one finger with a smile. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally get Dean to talk - at least a little bit - and though Sam could make a fair guess as to what was on Dean’s mind, they were going to need more beer.
“Hmm, nothing really, just…” Dean trailed off and started swirling his beer again.
“You are thinking of Jo and Ellen, are you not?” Cas asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Just wish there was a way they didn’t have to die. Ya’know?”
The next round had arrived. Sam filled Dean’s glass and topped off the rest.
“You know, Jo once told me this was her favorite time of year.” Sam's voice was quiet but strong. He took a quick sip from his glass. “She said that no matter what her dad was involved in at the time, no matter what, he’d always make it back home to spend Christmas with her and her mom.”
"I-I'm sorry Dad and I couldn't do that for you too, Sammy." Dean's voice stuttered.
“Yeah, well“ Sam said. “She told me he said that he saw enough violence the rest of the year that he wanted to be home safe and share at least one peaceful holiday with his girls. I'm glad they got to do share that, at least for a little while.”
There was moment of silence around the table. They all mourned the loss of two women who died too young and two boys forced to grow up too soon.
“We should head back up to Bobby’s after this. Spend the holiday with him. No hunting.”
Sam looked at Dean, slightly startled, “You mean it? We’re going to take time off?”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll do the whole Christmas spirit thing, too. Tree, presents, you know,” Dean shrugged. “Seems like a good way to, I donno, honor them or something.” He chugged down another big gulp of beer, lest he started getting any more sentimental.
Cas and Sam shared a small excited look.
Cas raised his glass. “Well then, here’s to Jo.”
Sam joined him; their glasses dinked together. “And Ellen”
“Merry Christmas, to the Harvelles.” Dean raised his glass and together they toasted to the memory of their friends.
Title: Between the drinks and subtle things
Author: bluemoondreamer
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Summary: Season 5. Sam, Dean and Cas drink to their recently fallen friends.
Note: Spell checked, and that's about it. Let me know if you find something I need to fix.
Written for the 2012 challenge at adventchallenge Prompt #17 Raise a glass for everyone
Five days till Christmas and just about everywhere Dean went he could physically taste the holiday spirit.
Sometimes literally.
It was disgusting.
The last town in which the brothers worked a case had a typical hole-in-the-wall bar on the edge of city limits. The place was decked out to the nines with all the classic winter trimmings - which was bad enough in Dean’s opinion - and to top it off, the only beer they had left on tap was some crazy fru-fru holiday special.
Seriously, beer with cinnamon and nutmeg? What the hell were they thinking?
Predictably, the next bar Dean walked into was also sporting a crap-ton of sparkly red and green decorations, but he was hopeful for some small amount of normalcy as he approached the bar.
“Please tell me you’ve got a regular brew on tap?” Dean asked the cute bartender as soon as she turned to him.
“You bet’cha!” She responded, with a particularly perky Christmas spirit. Her floppy Santa hat was just barely brushing her shoulder. “Coors or Bud?”
“Coors, make it a pitcher, and three glasses.” Dean slapped a twenty on the counter and a flirty smile on his face. A sign on the wall behind her caught Dean’s eye. “And some of those ‘County’s Best Chili Fries‘, too.”
“Coming right up.” She filled a large pitcher from the tap and went to pull down three glasses from a shelf above the back counter. Dean couldn't help taking a peek at the line of skin on the girl’s back that showed as she stretched up high.
He caught himself as she was starting to turn and quickly glanced away. Dean looked back towards the front window where Sam and Cas had managed to snag a booth. Cas was distracted with drawing something in the frost on the window with his finger while Sam had his head up and was eyeing the room for possible danger and exits. Good. Dean’s thoughts were still layered with anger from his brother’s betrayal the year before. Seems like Sammy still remembers something of being a hunter.
Dean turned back to the bar as the glasses were set down. “Okay, gonna put the order in. Anything else you want?“ The bartender asked. Dean shook his head. “Right then, fries will be out to you in a few minutes.“ The girl turned away and headed to the kitchen window. He gathered up the glasses and pitcher and made his way back to his brother and the semi-angel.
“So what’cha drawing there, Cas?” Dean set the glasses down and slid into the booth next to the angel. Sam took the pitcher and started pouring.
“It’s an Enochian symbol for protection and warmth.” Cas shivered deeper into his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck one more time. “Loosing some of my grace has effected how I can block the weather, it seems.”
Dean handed him a glass. “Here, drink some beer. It should warm you up in no time.”
---
“You know, these chili fries might just be the best in the country, if not just the county.” Castiel licked the last of the chili sauce off his fingers. “If I still had all my powers I could go check.” He added with a pang of wistfulness. In the past hour or so he had warmed up - thanks to Dean’s advice or the magic of the symbol he didn’t know - and had shed not only the scarf and trench coat but his suit jacket as well. His shirt sleeves, he had rolled up to avoid accidentally brushing them through the chili.
“Cas, don’t think about it too hard. So you’re loosing some of your powers, doesn’t mean we’re going to kick you to the curb, right Dean?” Sam stared at his brother. “Dean?”
With the fries gone, Dean had busied himself with watching the tail end of their second pitcher of beer swirl around the bottom of his glass. Startled by a kick to his shin, he slammed the glass down and looked up.
“Huh? Whazzup Sammy?”
“What were you thinking about?” Sam asked gently. He knew when Dean started acting this melancholy it was due to something big and Sam had to make sure to speak slowly so as not to break Dean’s mood. Dean hardly ever spoke about anything that bothered him, but over the years Sam learned a few tricks to get Dean to open up.
One of which was more alcohol.
Sam waived at the bartender, pointed to the pitcher and held up one finger with a smile. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally get Dean to talk - at least a little bit - and though Sam could make a fair guess as to what was on Dean’s mind, they were going to need more beer.
“Hmm, nothing really, just…” Dean trailed off and started swirling his beer again.
“You are thinking of Jo and Ellen, are you not?” Cas asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Just wish there was a way they didn’t have to die. Ya’know?”
The next round had arrived. Sam filled Dean’s glass and topped off the rest.
“You know, Jo once told me this was her favorite time of year.” Sam's voice was quiet but strong. He took a quick sip from his glass. “She said that no matter what her dad was involved in at the time, no matter what, he’d always make it back home to spend Christmas with her and her mom.”
"I-I'm sorry Dad and I couldn't do that for you too, Sammy." Dean's voice stuttered.
“Yeah, well“ Sam said. “She told me he said that he saw enough violence the rest of the year that he wanted to be home safe and share at least one peaceful holiday with his girls. I'm glad they got to do share that, at least for a little while.”
There was moment of silence around the table. They all mourned the loss of two women who died too young and two boys forced to grow up too soon.
“We should head back up to Bobby’s after this. Spend the holiday with him. No hunting.”
Sam looked at Dean, slightly startled, “You mean it? We’re going to take time off?”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll do the whole Christmas spirit thing, too. Tree, presents, you know,” Dean shrugged. “Seems like a good way to, I donno, honor them or something.” He chugged down another big gulp of beer, lest he started getting any more sentimental.
Cas and Sam shared a small excited look.
Cas raised his glass. “Well then, here’s to Jo.”
Sam joined him; their glasses dinked together. “And Ellen”
“Merry Christmas, to the Harvelles.” Dean raised his glass and together they toasted to the memory of their friends.