Day 15: Fic: You Can Lead A Horse To Water
Title: You Can Lead A Horse To Water
Pairings/Characters: Ellen, Gabriel, Bobby, Sam, Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-12 for mild slash, references to sex and violence, and some bad language.
Spoilers: Up to and including 5x08
Word count: 2300
Summary: Three people who guessed before Dean and Castiel did, and one who was a little slow.
Ellen Harvelle’s been a hunter for a good long time, worked in bars longer than that, and while anyone can get by in those jobs without learning to read people they’d be damned fools not to. Ellen’s no fool.
The name and bearing are evidence enough even if the firm grasp of English isn’t, and Ellen knows before being told that Castiel’s no local. It’s a little longer before she works out Castiel’s socially clueless rather than an ignorant dumbass; thankfully she can handle clueless, lets Castiel face Dean while talking to her, tries not to feel too uncomfortable when he stares at her if he finds the topic of conversation particularly riveting.
Would have been nice for Dean to give her a heads up that he was an angel, mind, given she’d learned a long time ago not to trust anything with a shadow that didn’t match its shape; and even if he’d recovered fast enough and been all the more respectful of her abilities after, chances were Castiel could have done without a stomach pumped full of silver and iron when she’d noticed something off in his lightning-cast shadow. Can’t afford to take risks these days, after all.
Castiel holds himself oddly but still wears his expressions like any other human, and Ellen can see the slight scowl of frustration whenever Dean leaves a room Castiel is in; notices the way Castiel’s eyes will follow Dean around so long as he’s in view. She doesn’t think Castiel notices he stares; doesn’t think Dean notices either - and if Dean does, he certainly doesn’t notice that the following someone around a room branch of staring applies only to him.
She doesn’t quite trust the angel yet - knows better than to trust anyone the Winchesters bring around, with or without Bobby’s blessing, because as reliable as Bobby is he’s still a little more naive than she’ll ever be. There are maybe four people in the world Ellen trusts utterly, and four is enough; other people might warrant trust but she has no need to extend her hand to anyone else as far as she’s concerned. She’s got a little girl who can make mistakes for her and she’ll clean up after them when she has to, but damned if she’ll make any more mistakes of her own if she can avoid it.
Even so, she’s glad for Castiel; glad there’s someone else in the world Dean will let himself rely on, someone else to call him out on his bullshit when he’s mouthing off and to look after him when he messes up. He’ll never really listen to Sam’s advice as much as he should - still thinks he knows best, as big brother - but he’d listen to John, and he does listen to her, Bobby, and once in a while seemingly will let himself listen to Castiel.
She’s glad for it, because given the way Castiel looks at Dean, she’s pretty sure they’re words the boy could do with listening to.
It’s all pretty hilarious, and Gabriel’s always had a good sense of humour. That Castiel hasn’t worked out what he’s feeling yet makes it all the funnier; with the war going on, it’s also one of the few perks left to watch his brothers and sisters wander around on Earth for the first time since he went renegade. And yeah, even if they’d likely have tried to kill him if they caught him, he is a little pissed off no one thought to go after him beforehand.
Watching his brothers and sisters getting used to Earth is like watching a monkey try to use a computer - they’ve watched what happens on Earth, got a vague idea of how everything works, but oh, the practical applications of that theory? That’s where things get interesting. He’s seen demon-on-angel skirmishes end in everything from bloodshed to orgies, because any demon worth knowing - generally the ones who’ve been around since at least the twelfth century on Earth - knows if you can’t beat it, bargain with it.
But it’s rare he can get personal with these things - when you’re on the run from Heaven, last thing you want to do is advertise yourself by turning up to battles and bedrooms with nachos and popcorn - so Castiel’s involvement with the Winchesters is a pain in the ass until he hears on the grapevine that his little brother’s also on the run.
There had been plans to make a wisecrack about “if it wasn’t for you meddling kids” when the Winchesters catch him out and escape the TV world, but Dean’s button-pushing throws him; not so far as to render him forgetful or ignorant, mind. Dean might have been relatively calm in his demanding Castiel’s safe return - none of Sam’s solo hunting and raging to the point of stabbing a pretty convincing effigy of one of his closest allies in the alternate world of Dean’s death - but Dean’s only of vague interest to Gabriel anyway. He just wants the son of a bitch to shut up, let Michael ride him to the final battle, and get this whole mess over with.
Castiel, on the other hand? Little brother had been all too obvious about what Earth had done to him; throwing himself against the cell walls in Prison Break when he found he couldn’t fly until the guards had to drag him to the infirmary, all the while yelling for Dean, yelling to be let out. All faintly psychotic calm when he broke back into Sam and Dean’s sitcom, of course, but Gabriel had seen the very real fear in Castiel’s eyes; not for himself, but for the humans he’d gone on the run for.
It’s funny seeing another of his brothers falling because they like humans too much, not too little - a rarity, too. Gabriel just thinks it particularly amusing that of all the humans to fall for, they choose the one Michael wants to wear to the ball.
Can’t say he approves or disapproves, either.
He loves the boys, God knows he does, but sometimes Robert Singer really does wonder how on Earth he ended up surrogate uncle to the biggest pair of idiots he’s ever met. Sam’s a book-smart genius, Dean’s a world class fighter and marksman, and both of them have hearts of gold - but he’ll be damned if either of them can see what’s right in front of them half the time. Not to mention the years have helped both boys develop complexes the size of the moon, and if Bobby ever meets up with John in Heaven he’s going to punch his lights out whether the good Lord’s present at the time or not.
He’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of Dean bringing home a renegade angel even if for all his being ‘cut off’ from Heaven, whatever that means, Castiel still has a useful trick or two up his sleeve. And as much as he might have disliked the idea of letting an angel get up close and personal with his ribs, Bobby has to admit it’s probably a good idea keeping the rest of the angels off his back as much as the boys; he doesn’t get out of the house much since that bastard of a demon forced him into losing his legs, but the anti-angel sigils dotted around the place aren’t exactly much use when he’s on the move.
Bobby might have been more impressed by Castiel’s sacrificing himself for the boys if it weren’t for the fact that whatever force decided to bring the angel back from the dead couldn’t be bothered to fix his legs; though that said, Pastor Jim had always said God’s sense of humour was infinitely more difficult to comprehend than anyone else’s.
But Dean seems to like having the angel around, even if all Bobby ever seems to see them do is argue, and he’s willing to let a fair amount slide when someone manages to keep Dean in line without constantly worsening his already piss-poor self esteem. They bicker more like an old married couple than like brothers when their arguments don’t involve the apocalypse, and truth be told, it’s pretty entertaining to watch when there’s nothing else on TV.
Takes a while before Bobby clicks on that they don’t argue like brothers for a reason, and he doesn’t relish the idea, but can’t really ignore it either when Occam’s razor says it’s the most likely scenario. And the angel’s clueless, from what Bobby can tell, because Castiel might be sneaky on occasion, but he’s not ignorant; he can’t recognise the teasing and attention-seeking for what it is. Hell, if the angel had pigtails, Dean would probably be pulling on them like the five year old he is.
He lets it slide, figures he’s not that keen on them working things out but he’s not going to pitch a fit if they do; and once in a while he wonders how John would have reacted, and laughs and laughs.
Sam doesn’t so much click as one day realises Dean doesn’t actually know how he feels about the angel. In all fairness, that’s not so surprising with Dean; if it doesn’t relate to one of his simple pleasures like food, mullet rock or the Impala, he generally remains clueless. It took an age of hinting and teasing to get Dean to admit he still liked Cassie back when they visited her, and generally if Dean can’t just stop and start something, be it a relationship, a meal or a cassette tape, he’s not interested in pursuing it. It’s a pain, but Dean’s always been a bit of a pushover when it comes to things he likes - the Impala’s one of the few things he’d never give up to anyone except, on rare occasions, Sam. He’s been trained into giving things up, and it bugs the crap out of Sam.
He leaves it alone for a while, figures Castiel’s little remarks like “You’re a good person, Dean” and similar will eventually draw out the conversation he and Dean need to have, but as time passes he starts to realise Dean thinks the things Castiel says are either just angel-speak or the sort of things friends say to each other; Sam’s a little startled at the realisation Dean’s just so used to the idea that friends are family and never anything else that he never thinks to question what Castiel says, just brushes it off whenever it borders on inappropriate.
Worse yet, Castiel’s ability to calm Dean down is something else Dean just blanks out as normal despite the fact even Sam struggles to do it; the final straw comes when he and Dean hole up in a pretty decent motel while Castiel does whatever angels do when they aren’t stalking your big brother. Free wi-fi means Sam’s outright content, but Dean won’t stop grouching about every small thing that comes to mind; loses it when it starts to snow. Dean’s never been all that fond of snow but the blizzard setting in has him raging, bitching about the cold, the wet, the bad driving conditions, rock salt prices, going up, everything. It’s a miserable hour and even ordered-in pizza doesn’t quieten Dean down.
Castiel pops in not long after dinner, opens his mouth to say something before looking out of the window, apparently distracted for a second. “The snow outside is beautiful today,” he says, and Dean? From borderline apoplectic to near docile in an instant. If Sam didn’t know better, he’d call it a miracle.
Admittedly there’s something more than a little wrong in playing matchmaker between his big brother and an angel, but Castiel’s the best thing to happen to Dean in years and Sam’s enough of an adult to see it. He’s also enough of an adult to work out Dean’ll never pursue this on his own unless he falls into a clue tree, hits every clue branch on the way down, and falls onto a floor of clue tiles paved with clue cement.
The main problem is trying to figure out a way to get them together that’s unsubtle enough to make Dean actually pay attention without scarring Sam for life in the process; there’s no way he’s finding some excuse for them to share a sleeping bag or a bed, and besides, he’s not even certain Castiel sleeps. The theory goes that angels probably can, but much like eating and drinking they simply choose not to. Why bother if they don’t need to?
So, all things considered, he’s a little put out when in the middle of some clever scheming and making coffee for Dean and himself so he can continue with said clever scheming he opens the kitchen door to see Castiel taking Dean’s hand away from packing their bags, pulling him close, and kissing him. Dean doesn’t seem to object.
And even though he’s wanted them to get it over with for what feels like months, Sam still has to fight the silly urge to run in and punch Castiel for daring to kiss his brother.
Sam closes the kitchen door most of the way before clinking the coffee mugs together deliberately and slamming the door open so the two of them can at least pretend to be subtle. They could even have been convincing if it weren’t for the fact that apparently one kiss is enough to leave Castiel looking like he’s run a marathon.
“Think I’ll head to the library,” Sam lies with no small amount of satisfaction before handing over the coffee.
Castiel looks a little puzzled at being presented with what would have been Sam’s coffee, but accepts the gift anyway.
Dean just glares until Sam leaves, and Sam can’t say he’s surprised; Dean hates being the last to know.
Pairings/Characters: Ellen, Gabriel, Bobby, Sam, Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-12 for mild slash, references to sex and violence, and some bad language.
Spoilers: Up to and including 5x08
Word count: 2300
Summary: Three people who guessed before Dean and Castiel did, and one who was a little slow.
Ellen Harvelle’s been a hunter for a good long time, worked in bars longer than that, and while anyone can get by in those jobs without learning to read people they’d be damned fools not to. Ellen’s no fool.
The name and bearing are evidence enough even if the firm grasp of English isn’t, and Ellen knows before being told that Castiel’s no local. It’s a little longer before she works out Castiel’s socially clueless rather than an ignorant dumbass; thankfully she can handle clueless, lets Castiel face Dean while talking to her, tries not to feel too uncomfortable when he stares at her if he finds the topic of conversation particularly riveting.
Would have been nice for Dean to give her a heads up that he was an angel, mind, given she’d learned a long time ago not to trust anything with a shadow that didn’t match its shape; and even if he’d recovered fast enough and been all the more respectful of her abilities after, chances were Castiel could have done without a stomach pumped full of silver and iron when she’d noticed something off in his lightning-cast shadow. Can’t afford to take risks these days, after all.
Castiel holds himself oddly but still wears his expressions like any other human, and Ellen can see the slight scowl of frustration whenever Dean leaves a room Castiel is in; notices the way Castiel’s eyes will follow Dean around so long as he’s in view. She doesn’t think Castiel notices he stares; doesn’t think Dean notices either - and if Dean does, he certainly doesn’t notice that the following someone around a room branch of staring applies only to him.
She doesn’t quite trust the angel yet - knows better than to trust anyone the Winchesters bring around, with or without Bobby’s blessing, because as reliable as Bobby is he’s still a little more naive than she’ll ever be. There are maybe four people in the world Ellen trusts utterly, and four is enough; other people might warrant trust but she has no need to extend her hand to anyone else as far as she’s concerned. She’s got a little girl who can make mistakes for her and she’ll clean up after them when she has to, but damned if she’ll make any more mistakes of her own if she can avoid it.
Even so, she’s glad for Castiel; glad there’s someone else in the world Dean will let himself rely on, someone else to call him out on his bullshit when he’s mouthing off and to look after him when he messes up. He’ll never really listen to Sam’s advice as much as he should - still thinks he knows best, as big brother - but he’d listen to John, and he does listen to her, Bobby, and once in a while seemingly will let himself listen to Castiel.
She’s glad for it, because given the way Castiel looks at Dean, she’s pretty sure they’re words the boy could do with listening to.
It’s all pretty hilarious, and Gabriel’s always had a good sense of humour. That Castiel hasn’t worked out what he’s feeling yet makes it all the funnier; with the war going on, it’s also one of the few perks left to watch his brothers and sisters wander around on Earth for the first time since he went renegade. And yeah, even if they’d likely have tried to kill him if they caught him, he is a little pissed off no one thought to go after him beforehand.
Watching his brothers and sisters getting used to Earth is like watching a monkey try to use a computer - they’ve watched what happens on Earth, got a vague idea of how everything works, but oh, the practical applications of that theory? That’s where things get interesting. He’s seen demon-on-angel skirmishes end in everything from bloodshed to orgies, because any demon worth knowing - generally the ones who’ve been around since at least the twelfth century on Earth - knows if you can’t beat it, bargain with it.
But it’s rare he can get personal with these things - when you’re on the run from Heaven, last thing you want to do is advertise yourself by turning up to battles and bedrooms with nachos and popcorn - so Castiel’s involvement with the Winchesters is a pain in the ass until he hears on the grapevine that his little brother’s also on the run.
There had been plans to make a wisecrack about “if it wasn’t for you meddling kids” when the Winchesters catch him out and escape the TV world, but Dean’s button-pushing throws him; not so far as to render him forgetful or ignorant, mind. Dean might have been relatively calm in his demanding Castiel’s safe return - none of Sam’s solo hunting and raging to the point of stabbing a pretty convincing effigy of one of his closest allies in the alternate world of Dean’s death - but Dean’s only of vague interest to Gabriel anyway. He just wants the son of a bitch to shut up, let Michael ride him to the final battle, and get this whole mess over with.
Castiel, on the other hand? Little brother had been all too obvious about what Earth had done to him; throwing himself against the cell walls in Prison Break when he found he couldn’t fly until the guards had to drag him to the infirmary, all the while yelling for Dean, yelling to be let out. All faintly psychotic calm when he broke back into Sam and Dean’s sitcom, of course, but Gabriel had seen the very real fear in Castiel’s eyes; not for himself, but for the humans he’d gone on the run for.
It’s funny seeing another of his brothers falling because they like humans too much, not too little - a rarity, too. Gabriel just thinks it particularly amusing that of all the humans to fall for, they choose the one Michael wants to wear to the ball.
Can’t say he approves or disapproves, either.
He loves the boys, God knows he does, but sometimes Robert Singer really does wonder how on Earth he ended up surrogate uncle to the biggest pair of idiots he’s ever met. Sam’s a book-smart genius, Dean’s a world class fighter and marksman, and both of them have hearts of gold - but he’ll be damned if either of them can see what’s right in front of them half the time. Not to mention the years have helped both boys develop complexes the size of the moon, and if Bobby ever meets up with John in Heaven he’s going to punch his lights out whether the good Lord’s present at the time or not.
He’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of Dean bringing home a renegade angel even if for all his being ‘cut off’ from Heaven, whatever that means, Castiel still has a useful trick or two up his sleeve. And as much as he might have disliked the idea of letting an angel get up close and personal with his ribs, Bobby has to admit it’s probably a good idea keeping the rest of the angels off his back as much as the boys; he doesn’t get out of the house much since that bastard of a demon forced him into losing his legs, but the anti-angel sigils dotted around the place aren’t exactly much use when he’s on the move.
Bobby might have been more impressed by Castiel’s sacrificing himself for the boys if it weren’t for the fact that whatever force decided to bring the angel back from the dead couldn’t be bothered to fix his legs; though that said, Pastor Jim had always said God’s sense of humour was infinitely more difficult to comprehend than anyone else’s.
But Dean seems to like having the angel around, even if all Bobby ever seems to see them do is argue, and he’s willing to let a fair amount slide when someone manages to keep Dean in line without constantly worsening his already piss-poor self esteem. They bicker more like an old married couple than like brothers when their arguments don’t involve the apocalypse, and truth be told, it’s pretty entertaining to watch when there’s nothing else on TV.
Takes a while before Bobby clicks on that they don’t argue like brothers for a reason, and he doesn’t relish the idea, but can’t really ignore it either when Occam’s razor says it’s the most likely scenario. And the angel’s clueless, from what Bobby can tell, because Castiel might be sneaky on occasion, but he’s not ignorant; he can’t recognise the teasing and attention-seeking for what it is. Hell, if the angel had pigtails, Dean would probably be pulling on them like the five year old he is.
He lets it slide, figures he’s not that keen on them working things out but he’s not going to pitch a fit if they do; and once in a while he wonders how John would have reacted, and laughs and laughs.
Sam doesn’t so much click as one day realises Dean doesn’t actually know how he feels about the angel. In all fairness, that’s not so surprising with Dean; if it doesn’t relate to one of his simple pleasures like food, mullet rock or the Impala, he generally remains clueless. It took an age of hinting and teasing to get Dean to admit he still liked Cassie back when they visited her, and generally if Dean can’t just stop and start something, be it a relationship, a meal or a cassette tape, he’s not interested in pursuing it. It’s a pain, but Dean’s always been a bit of a pushover when it comes to things he likes - the Impala’s one of the few things he’d never give up to anyone except, on rare occasions, Sam. He’s been trained into giving things up, and it bugs the crap out of Sam.
He leaves it alone for a while, figures Castiel’s little remarks like “You’re a good person, Dean” and similar will eventually draw out the conversation he and Dean need to have, but as time passes he starts to realise Dean thinks the things Castiel says are either just angel-speak or the sort of things friends say to each other; Sam’s a little startled at the realisation Dean’s just so used to the idea that friends are family and never anything else that he never thinks to question what Castiel says, just brushes it off whenever it borders on inappropriate.
Worse yet, Castiel’s ability to calm Dean down is something else Dean just blanks out as normal despite the fact even Sam struggles to do it; the final straw comes when he and Dean hole up in a pretty decent motel while Castiel does whatever angels do when they aren’t stalking your big brother. Free wi-fi means Sam’s outright content, but Dean won’t stop grouching about every small thing that comes to mind; loses it when it starts to snow. Dean’s never been all that fond of snow but the blizzard setting in has him raging, bitching about the cold, the wet, the bad driving conditions, rock salt prices, going up, everything. It’s a miserable hour and even ordered-in pizza doesn’t quieten Dean down.
Castiel pops in not long after dinner, opens his mouth to say something before looking out of the window, apparently distracted for a second. “The snow outside is beautiful today,” he says, and Dean? From borderline apoplectic to near docile in an instant. If Sam didn’t know better, he’d call it a miracle.
Admittedly there’s something more than a little wrong in playing matchmaker between his big brother and an angel, but Castiel’s the best thing to happen to Dean in years and Sam’s enough of an adult to see it. He’s also enough of an adult to work out Dean’ll never pursue this on his own unless he falls into a clue tree, hits every clue branch on the way down, and falls onto a floor of clue tiles paved with clue cement.
The main problem is trying to figure out a way to get them together that’s unsubtle enough to make Dean actually pay attention without scarring Sam for life in the process; there’s no way he’s finding some excuse for them to share a sleeping bag or a bed, and besides, he’s not even certain Castiel sleeps. The theory goes that angels probably can, but much like eating and drinking they simply choose not to. Why bother if they don’t need to?
So, all things considered, he’s a little put out when in the middle of some clever scheming and making coffee for Dean and himself so he can continue with said clever scheming he opens the kitchen door to see Castiel taking Dean’s hand away from packing their bags, pulling him close, and kissing him. Dean doesn’t seem to object.
And even though he’s wanted them to get it over with for what feels like months, Sam still has to fight the silly urge to run in and punch Castiel for daring to kiss his brother.
Sam closes the kitchen door most of the way before clinking the coffee mugs together deliberately and slamming the door open so the two of them can at least pretend to be subtle. They could even have been convincing if it weren’t for the fact that apparently one kiss is enough to leave Castiel looking like he’s run a marathon.
“Think I’ll head to the library,” Sam lies with no small amount of satisfaction before handing over the coffee.
Castiel looks a little puzzled at being presented with what would have been Sam’s coffee, but accepts the gift anyway.
Dean just glares until Sam leaves, and Sam can’t say he’s surprised; Dean hates being the last to know.