April Twitfics 1/2
"The twitfics are coming! The twitfics are coming!"
Indeed. The AprilTwitfic twitfics have arrived. Though, really, only a couple are real twitfics, since most of them are over 2000 characters long...^^' Some prompts have more than one fic, so they've been numbered under each cut.
They're posted chronologically according to prompt.
April 5: Matchmaking
When Dean sighs for the twelfth time, Sam can’t take it anymore. Scowling, he pulls out his cell phone and sends off a quick text. A moment later, he is gratified to see his brother disappear. When Gabriel appears in his place seconds after that, he smiles and relaxes. “Where’d you put them?” he asks the archangel.
Gabriel smirks. “Caribbean. Little cabana on their own little island paradise. Complete with the necessities, such as a Jacuzzi and a king-sized bed. I even left a little note letting them know where the lube is,” he adds with a leer. Sam nods his approval and returns to his research.
When Gabriel brings Dean back the next day, the hunter is moderately sun burnt and grinning like a loon. Sam resolves to get separate rooms at the next motel.
---
April 6: Smity!Cas
Sam and Dean had had plenty of time to come to terms with the creature they were hunting, but Cas somehow managed to miss the memo when he showed up. Now as they stare at the thing through the wire mesh, the angel frowns. “We are hunting a rabbit?” he asks. Dean huffs. “Yeah. Just your average little bunny, but don’t forget about the wickedly sharp teeth and thirst for blood.”
At first, Cas is hesitant to get into the action, apparently having issues coming to terms with the fact that what appears to be a harmless creature is, in fact, rather evil. It’s not until the vampire bunny lunges for Dean’s throat when the hunter overreaches that he steps in, scowling. When the light fades and the brothers can see again, nothing is left of the rabbit except a charred area on the ground. Sam blinks. “Well, it wasn’t the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, but I think that was pretty much the same outcome.”
---
April 7: Human!AU
Stepping into the bookstore took effort, but was possible. Actually getting further than five feet from the front door was hard enough that Dean didn’t bother trying. When a store associate finally took notice of him, he was both embarrassed and relieved.
“Can I assist you?” the man asked, blue eyes curious and head tilted just enough to make Dean think of puppies and his little brother. Speaking of Sam…
“Uh, yeah. I want to get a book for my brother’s birthday, but, uh…” he trailed off, but the man seemed to get the idea.
“My name is Castiel,” he said, taking Dean’s elbow and steering him away from the doors. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about your brother?”
When he left the store an hour later, Dean had two books in a bag, Castiel’s cell number on the back of the receipt and a promise to go to a movie on Thursday, provided Dean didn’t have to work late. Dean was pretty sure that he’d never look at bookstores the same way again.
---
April 8: Angel Day
It had been a long, tiresome battle, but the angels were winning, pushing the demons back from the border. Then a great cry went up from the Host and Castiel looked to see a bright light-one of his brothers-being borne away by shadows. A bright light that he knew intimately, knew even at this distance and he added his voice to his brothers’ as the demons pulled their prisoner down into the Abyss. Castiel’s heart shuddered as Dean disappeared into Hell.
Nothing could be done in that instant, but once the border had been secured, he went before the archangels. He knelt and pled before their thrones and the archangels looked down on him with understanding and pity, but they did not grant his request of help. So, alone, but determined, he went to the border and stood at the edge of the Abyss. After a long moment of staring down into the inky darkness, he took a deep breath and spread his wings, leaning forward to follow after his soul mate.
The air was heavy and thick with a black smoke that clung to his wings and turned them an ashen grey. Falling quickly, he peered ahead, searching for the light of his mate through the darkness. Around him, demons laughed and mocked him, their sharp claws reaching out as he fell past them. By the time he caught sight of Dean’s fading grace, his wings and body bore many long rips and tears, but none of it mattered as soon as that familiar light was seen.
Dean had been hung on a rack of sorts, wings spread wide and arms flung out as if he’d been crucified to an invisible cross. Blood marred what had been pure white wings and blemish-free skin was now scored and marked by a myriad of wounds. Gently, Castiel lowered him from the demonic contraption into his embrace, wrapping the other angel’s flickering grace with his own steady light. Then, clutching Dean tightly, he beat at the heavy air and slowly rose back out of the pit on ashy wings.
For a long time, there was nothing but the smoky air before and around them, but Castiel flew on, whole being focused on nothing but returning his precious burden to Heaven’s light. Finally, the smog thinned and he could see the light above. When he got closer, he could see members of the Host, his brothers, standing at the edge and looking down. Sighting him, two angels dove off, meeting Castiel and rising with him as an honor guard.
At the cliff’s edge, the angels draw back as Castiel lands, Dean still held tight against him. The archangels come forward And Castiel looks at them boldly, unashamed of his choice and prepared to face the consequences. But Michael smiles and steps closer, reaching out to lightly place his hands on Castiel’s head. “Well done, good and faithful servant,” he says and a bright light comes over them and when it fades, Castiel’s wings are pure and unblemished again and Dean has been healed of his wounds, except for a scar the exact shape of Castiel’s hand on his shoulder where the other angel had held on too tight. And Castiel smiles back at the archangel and says, “Thank you.”
When Dean awakens, it is to Heaven’s light and Castiel’s blue eyes. When he asks how, Castiel simply tells him that he had it come to it, he would have left Heaven rather than stay without Dean. Dean scowls, but kisses him anyway and Castiel knows that he would have done the same. “I love you,” he says softly and Dean replies, “I know.”
---
April 9: Wing!fic
1. Turning Point
2. Sam isn't sure whether he should be embarrassed for his brother and his brother's angel (after all, that was a rather intimate scene he'd walked in on, if everything Gabriel had told him about an angel's wings were true) or thankful that they probably wouldn't be aware of anything for a long while (Gabriel had shown up a few minutes ago demanding a thorough grooming of his own wings in a blatant bid for Sam's attention), but either way, he wouldn't change it for the world.
3. Dean eyes the unkempt mess that is the angel’s wings and ducks into the bathroom. Returning with a comb, he pushes Cas onto the couch and settles on the angel’s upper thighs. “Alright. I’ve had enough of looking at these things like this,” he growls, dragging the comb and his free hand through the feathers in an attempt to bring order to chaos.
Under him, Cas stiffens, then abruptly goes boneless with a deep sigh. Starting at the bottom, Dean works his way up to the place where wing meets back. As he gets nearer to the joint, though, Cas starts to squirm, as if half-heartedly trying to get away from the grooming session. Dean would be more concerned about this if the angel weren’t making little sounds of pleasure as his feathers were sorted out. But then the comb scrapes over the joint itself and Cas’ back arches up in a way that Dean can’t possibly mistake and he’s suddenly mortified.
“Oh, shit. Cas, are you…Are you okay?”
Twisting so that he can look up at the human, Cas blinks dark eyes at Dean. “You did not harm me,” he says, voice somehow deeper than usual and Dean can feel a flush rising up his neck and face.
“No, no, not that,” he says, throat tight. “Your wings…are they sensitive?”
“Sensitive?”
“Yeah, like, uh, do you, uh, get pleasure from someone touching them?” And it’s a really good thing Sam’s out right now, since he definitely doesn’t want his brother seeing him freak out after realizing that he’d been essentially inappropriately groping an angel. Cas’ cheeks tinge pink and Dean knows he finally understands what he’d been asking.
“Oh. Yes, my wings are sensitive. But…” The flush on his face deepens and Cas cuts his eyes away and Dean is definitely not turned on by how edible that look makes the angel. “You do not…If you wish, you may continue.”
Which is probably the best idea Dean has heard in a long time and he wastes no time in sinking both hands into the thick feathers. Somewhere in his mind, a small part, the part that’s not solely focused on how good this feels and how good he can make it feel for Cas, wonders if this could possibly become a daily activity.
---
April 10: Genderswap
1. Dean can’t stop laughing, but Sam’s diligently ignoring him. “I always wanted a sister,” he manages after a good five minutes of trying to control his mirth. Sam shoots him a glare, forgetting that she’s supposed to be ignoring him.
“Yeah, well, I bet you wouldn’t be laughing quite so much if that witch had decided that you had to deal with cramps and PMS for the next three months,” she grumbles.
2. Oddly enough, people seemed more willing to believe that Dean and Sam were brother and sister than they usually were when told that they were brothers. Dean didn’t seem unduly concerned with this inconsistency, but Sam obsessed over the various reasons why until Dean pointed out that there was no real reason to worry about it unless they actually wanted people to think they were a couple. Sam stopped thinking about it after that.
3. Cas stopped by about a week after the change to find Dean sitting outside in the Impala. When he inquired about Sam’s whereabouts, he was told that the younger hunter was in the motel room, but unless he wanted to lose the physical evidence of his masculinity, he shouldn’t go in. Cas logically pointed out that, as an angel, he did not have a set gender, let alone physical evidence of either gender, but Dean just shook his head. “You look male, Cas and Sammy’s not gonna care about anything else. Trust me. You don’t want to go in there.” When Sam apologized the next morning for the sudden rage, Dean remembered what Jo had advised him and simply accepted the apology and let it be at that. However, he did write out a short note to himself so that he wouldn’t forget to tease Sam about it when his sister returned to being his brother.
4. “…and don’t try to argue with hi-her,” Jo continued. Dean nodded and continued to scribbled down the advice. “It’ll just make things worse and unless you really like being threatened with castration, I would recommend just sleeping in the car until she apologizes. Also, she’s gonna take a lot longer in the bathroom and asking multiple times when she’s going to be done does not make her go any faster. And when she’s on her period-”
“Whoa!” Dean held up a hand, eyes wide in horror. “I do NOT need to hear anything about that.” Jo raised an eyebrow.
“Alright. Suit yourself. But don’t call me in a panic when she starts throwing things at you and goes through major mood swings.” Dean’s expression changed to worried and his need to know what to do finally overcame his horror at learning just what made the female mind tick.
“Alright,” he said, wincing. “Tell me.”
Jo smirked. “Okay. First thing, don’t try to be logical or rational when she goes through the mood swings. It doesn’t help and usually only makes things worse. Second…”
5. “And, dude, you’re short!” Dean grinned even wider when Sam shot him a bitchface. “I haven’t been taller than you since you were fourteen! This is great! I can call you Shorty!”
Sam suddenly grinned. “Whatever you say, Sasquatch,” she said.
---
April 13: Jealous!Dean
Dean prodded his sore tooth with the tip of his tongue and glared at the piece of pie his brother was currently orgasming over. “Dude,” Sam said. “This is the best pie I’ve ever had.”. “I hate you so much right now,” he grumbled.
---
April 14: Angst
Lucifer can’t find him. Hours and days spent searching for the bright flame that was his vessel-to-be’s mind. A week, three, spent torturing demons to try to get some rumor of the Winchester’s passing. And with each minute that passes and lengthens the time since he’s last seen Sam, last felt the way his mind wraps around his thought-form, last heard the voice that now haunts his own dreams…with every minute, he gets more and more desperate.
Not being able to find Sam is not acceptable. There should be nothing separating their minds. He should be able to slip into the human’s dreamscape with a thought.
But he can’t.
And he doesn’t know why.
There is nothing he can think of that would be able to block Sam’s mind from him. Nothing he has ever heard of with the power to sever such a powerful bond without him knowing.
And to think he’d left their last meeting with harsh words and a bleak promise of ‘soon.’ Now, he’d give everything he has just for a moment in which to tell Sam he is sorry. Anything for just a chance.
But he wishes in vain and when he closes his eyes, Sam’s hate-filled eyes stare at him, blame him for everything and he cries out that it’s not his fault, that he didn’t ask for it to be Sam, that he’d change all of it if he only could…And then he breaks down and weeps, hot tears for everything that has happened since the beginning of time.
He searches in vain.
Sam is nowhere to be found. If Lucifer didn’t know with absolute surety that Sam Winchester was not dead, then that was what he’d be forced to conclude. Everything he’s tried has turned up nothing but memories that are too old, not recent enough. Nothing since the last time he’d seen Sam.
It’s been four months.
It feels like forty years.
Then God returns.
Lucifer is playing at being human, sitting in a coffee joint and sipping at a mug of the bitter liquid, when God sits down across the table. He blinks at his Father, then sighs. He’s not surprised and he’s not scared.
He’s just tired.
God sips at a mocha latte and watches him, doesn’t say anything. Lucifer shrugs.
“It’s what was supposed to happen. You know that. I made my choice and you let me. End of story.”
God takes another sip.
“Alright! I’ll admit I didn’t think the consequences through all the way. Not like I really could, you know,” he says, petulant. “Remember? Not omniscient? Certainly didn’t see this happening.”
He sighs again. God refills their drinks.
“I…I’m not sure I would choose differently, if given the chance,” he admits softly, leaning his head on one hand. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Hell’s not a happy place and I certainly didn’t like being locked up all those millennia, but…but if I hadn’t made the choices I made…would I have ever met him?”
God doesn’t answer.
“Yeah…” Lucifer stares down into his drink for a long moment before glancing up at his Father. “Hey, Dad? Can I ask you something?”
God nods indulgently.
“Why…why can’t I find him?” And the words reopen the wound he thought had long since scabbed over and the pain is suddenly fresh and real and thick in his throat. “I can’t find him, no matter how hard I look and…and I don’t know why!”
God smiles, then, but before Lucifer can ask why his pain makes his Father happy, God touches two fingers to the angel’s forehead.
The coffee shop disappears and Lucifer is suddenly on the shore of a large lake. To his left, there’s a dock and someone’s sitting at the end, a fishing pole held out over the water. God’s gone and Lucifer takes a step towards the person on the dock, but voices from behind him prevent him from going further.
“Dean! Lunchtime!” And Lucifer turns to look at the man he’d spent four months (forty years) looking for. He takes a moment to just look, the sight alone a balm to his wounded soul.
Sam doesn’t look much different physically. His hair’s a little neater, a little shorter. He stands a little taller, as if some heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. But other than that, he doesn’t look any different. Except he does.
Lucifer thinks it might be the aura of utter contentment that he projects, that makes Sam look so different to him. Or maybe the wide, carefree grin that Lucifer has never seen on that face. Or maybe it’s something else, something indefinable, that has changed the human so completely.
Sam doesn’t see him.
Neither does the little angel trailing behind him. Castiel, Lucifer thinks. Dean’s angel. The angel and the human walk right past Lucifer, as if he didn’t exist.
And maybe he doesn’t. Here and now, maybe he doesn’t really exist.
And that hurts, the thought that he’s been given this only to have it be just a vision, something can’t acknowledge him. But it’s a small hurt and easily ignored.
He trails after them as they head towards the dock and Dean, who’s coming to meet them. He watches as they set out a blanket and a picnic on the grass, under the warm sun. He listens as they chatter about nothing and everything and he slowly learns and pieces together what must have happened.
Four months ago, apparently the day after his last night with Sam, God had returned to Heaven and quickly sorted things out up there. There had been some major misinterpretation going on and nothing had been done right, including the apocalypse. God had swept the planet clean, erasing the effects of what had happened so far and putting things to where they should have been. Humanity as a whole lived several years in a blink and no one but these three and a few select others knew anything about what had actually happened.
God had arranged a little chat with the brothers Winchester. They had been given the choice to decide what happened to Lucifer. Dean had deferred that honor to his brother alone, trusting him at last.
Sam had looked at him and sentenced him to four months and forty years in a hell of his own, had specified that Lucifer not remember God’s return and the events that followed. And Lucifer had not protested.
Couldn’t have protested. Because even at the end, he would remain true to his word and give Sam everything he could. And if his own damnation was what was asked of him, then so be it.
And Lucifer now, having just learned of all this, does not hold it against the human, nor does he regret his choice.
The humans and angel finish their meal and head back to a sprawling house that Lucifer hadn’t noticed before. He follows after them, nothing but a ghost. Sam is the last to go inside and the human hesitates, one hand holding the door open. As if drawn to it, he slowly twists around, looks right at Lucifer standing a few feet away.
Lucifer swallows. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry. Goodbye.”
And Sam looks at him for a long moment, then shakes his head. “No,” he says and suddenly Lucifer can’t bear it anymore.
Turning, he starts walking away. Away from this Sam Winchester who is and isn’t his Sam Winchester. Away from this dream that isn’t a dream, but is a nightmare for an angel who Fell for love only to find that love had Fallen with him.
Away from this vision of happiness, of what should be and is, of everything that he can’t have, but wants so, so terribly.
The hand on his shoulder startles him, but when he is pulled around to see hazel eyes looking back at him with intent, he can’t feel fear. Only a terrible, terrible love that has passed through Hellfire and come out the other side bruised and burned and scarred and hurt, but alive.
“No,” Sam says again and Lucifer burns with the pain that word brings now. “No. Not goodbye.” And suddenly Lucifer can’t breathe, can’t look away from what he sees in the eyes that see him so clearly.
“Not…goodbye?” he echoes faintly and he’s sure that voice isn’t his own. Sam quirks a half-smile.
“Not goodbye,” he confirms. “Hello.”
And Lucifer Falls again for love.
---
April 15: Wee!chesters or Kid!fic
1. It had been millennia since there had been fledglings in Heaven. And then suddenly, there were four, given to individual angels to teach and care for. Michael, Raphael and Gabriel were given little Samael and it quickly became obvious that all three were needed to keep the inquisitive fledgling from harm. Brash Joel was given to Anael, who quickly recruited Uriel to help with the active fledgling. Zachariah and Joshua found themselves in charge of Asher and were both quietly relieved to find that the fledgling preferred listening to stories to exploring. The fourth fledgling, Dean (he’d been called something different originally, but he’d insisted on Dean and would respond to nothing else), was given to Castiel, who, despite Dean’s stubbornness and willful personality, couldn’t help but fall a little deeper in love every time mossy green eyes looked at him.
2. Michael is one of Dean's favorite targets and Castiel has decided to be grateful that Michael sees it all in good fun. Raphael scowls and does his best to keep Samael out of Dean’s circle of influence. Gabriel just sits back and watches Dean tug on Michael’s wings, latch onto his clothes, ask him a million questions he already knows the answers to and just generally make a nuisance of himself. Michael takes it in stride, having already gotten used to Samael’s inquisitive nature. (He says that compared to Sammy, answering Dean’s questions is actually a relief, since his own fledgling usually wants to know exactly which came first: oak tree or maple? and Dean tends to ask things like whether or not Michael’s ever wanted dark wings like Castiel’s.) Still, when playtime is over and they have to leave, Castiel adds on an apology for Dean’s behavior.
---
April 16: Possessive!Cas
Castiel eyes the sandwich with a curious expression before taking a bite. Setting it back down as he chews, he frowns. “I…don’t know,” he says after a long moment. Dean sighs and reaches for the remainder.
“Well, if you’re not going to-”
Cas quickly pulls the meal closer to himself and glares at Dean. “I did not say I didn’t want it,” he growls.
---
April 17: Jealous!Cas
They’re at the aquarium (ostensibly searching for demonic activity, but Sam thinks Dean just wanted to see the sharks) when Dean and Cas have their first major fall-out. Dean’s all but plastered against the tank housing a collection of fish that even Sam doesn’t know the name of, but they’re long and skinny and they’ve got odd little feelers at one end and a feathery fin at the other and Dean’s currently making weird faces at them.
“Dude, you guys are fugly,” the older hunter mutters, watching one coil past, two inches from his nose. Cas is standing a few feet away, looking on with what Sam thinks is his disapproving face.
“Dean. I do not appreciate this.”
The hunter barely looks at him and drops his jaw to squint at another of the creatures. “Why, Cas? Not enjoying the fish?”
“No,” the angel says. “I enjoy the fish. It is the expressions you insist on making at the fish that I do not enjoy. I was led to believe that such were not used outside of the bedroom.” Dean freezes and Sam has to turn away before he cracks up, so he doesn’t see the moment Cas decides to walk away, but he does hear his brother go after him.
“What? Hey, Cas! Wait up! I can explain!”
A woman at the next tank over glances at Sam in curiosity and Sam can’t help himself. “My brother was making sex faces at the fish and his boyfriend didn’t appreciate it,” he says, shrugging and maybe grinning just a little.
The woman nods sagely. “Ah. My husband did that once. I wish your brother luck in getting off of the couch within three weeks.” Sam nods and doesn’t fight the grin this time.
---
April 18: Protective!Dean
Sam’s pretty sure it started with a sandwich. Which may or may not have been influenced by a certain archangel-turned-Trickster. Gabriel’s being uncharacteristically tightlipped about his motives in the whole affair.
Anyway. Sandwich.
Somewhere in Wyoming, they come across a diner that makes the best French dip Sam’s ever had. Dean agrees, apparently, if the way he’s blocked out everything but the sandwich is any indication. Cas is sitting next to the elder hunter, looking vaguely uncomfortable, but he looks like that a lot, so Sam’s not too worried. His concern levels rise, though, when Gabriel makes an appearance, already snacking on a candy bar.
The archangel doesn’t say anything and Sam’s content to ignore him in favor of eating and Dean doesn’t even seem to notice the angel’s there, which really should have tipped Sam off. But it didn’t, because, dude. Best damn French dip.
And then Gabriel starts talking quietly to Cas and the other angel sort of leans in closer, like it’s necessary to more easily understand his brother (and with Gabe, really, it just might). Sam notices that, but mostly because Gabriel’s never really started up a serious conversation with Castiel before and that’s what this looks like.
He doesn’t get a chance to think too much about it, though, since Dean finishes his sandwich right about then and notices Gabriel and irritation instantly replaces the look of bliss. Sam forgets for about three weeks.
Only three weeks because that’s how long it takes to notice the little touches Gabriel’s constantly bestowing on Cas. Hands, wrists, arms, shoulders, back, even a few across the knees or thighs and Sam’s suddenly worried for the younger angel, like whether or not he understands what those types of touches usually lead to.
He only has to wonder for about a week, when he sees Cas shyly touching back.
And then Dean notices. Almost five weeks after the diner in Wyoming, he notices the changed dynamic between ‘his’ angel and Gabriel. And suddenly whenever Gabriel shows up, Cas is being called over to talk about something or look at some artifact or other and Dean mostly spends his time glaring over the angel’s head at Gabriel.
The archangel seems to take this all in good fun and gets sneakier about what he does-to? with?-Cas.
At least, until he tries to kiss Cas with both of the human brothers in the room. Sam jerks forward as if to stop it himself, except he’s all the way across the room from the angels and well, Dean’s kind of already there.
And by that, he means Dean’s got Gabriel held against the wall with one hand against his throat and Cas is left blinking at the empty space where the archangel was not three seconds previous.
Gabriel just pats him on the head, grins and threatens the hunter with a lifetime of procedural cop shows if he hurts his little bro before disappearing with a snap and Dean’s left with his hand against the wall. After a confused moment, Dean turns back to Cas, who’s looking at him like he hung the moon and stars and Sam can only guess that the look hit his brother somewhere around the knees, since Dean kind of half stumbles, half falls into the angel and suddenly Sam is pretty sure this is an aspect of his brother’s life he never wants to know the details about.
Sam doesn’t bother excusing himself and just leaves, grabbing his duffle and an extra credit card so he can get his own room where he can very determinedly not think about just what Dean and Cas are probably now doing.
---
Indeed. The AprilTwitfic twitfics have arrived. Though, really, only a couple are real twitfics, since most of them are over 2000 characters long...^^' Some prompts have more than one fic, so they've been numbered under each cut.
They're posted chronologically according to prompt.
April 5: Matchmaking
When Dean sighs for the twelfth time, Sam can’t take it anymore. Scowling, he pulls out his cell phone and sends off a quick text. A moment later, he is gratified to see his brother disappear. When Gabriel appears in his place seconds after that, he smiles and relaxes. “Where’d you put them?” he asks the archangel.
Gabriel smirks. “Caribbean. Little cabana on their own little island paradise. Complete with the necessities, such as a Jacuzzi and a king-sized bed. I even left a little note letting them know where the lube is,” he adds with a leer. Sam nods his approval and returns to his research.
When Gabriel brings Dean back the next day, the hunter is moderately sun burnt and grinning like a loon. Sam resolves to get separate rooms at the next motel.
---
April 6: Smity!Cas
Sam and Dean had had plenty of time to come to terms with the creature they were hunting, but Cas somehow managed to miss the memo when he showed up. Now as they stare at the thing through the wire mesh, the angel frowns. “We are hunting a rabbit?” he asks. Dean huffs. “Yeah. Just your average little bunny, but don’t forget about the wickedly sharp teeth and thirst for blood.”
At first, Cas is hesitant to get into the action, apparently having issues coming to terms with the fact that what appears to be a harmless creature is, in fact, rather evil. It’s not until the vampire bunny lunges for Dean’s throat when the hunter overreaches that he steps in, scowling. When the light fades and the brothers can see again, nothing is left of the rabbit except a charred area on the ground. Sam blinks. “Well, it wasn’t the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, but I think that was pretty much the same outcome.”
---
April 7: Human!AU
Stepping into the bookstore took effort, but was possible. Actually getting further than five feet from the front door was hard enough that Dean didn’t bother trying. When a store associate finally took notice of him, he was both embarrassed and relieved.
“Can I assist you?” the man asked, blue eyes curious and head tilted just enough to make Dean think of puppies and his little brother. Speaking of Sam…
“Uh, yeah. I want to get a book for my brother’s birthday, but, uh…” he trailed off, but the man seemed to get the idea.
“My name is Castiel,” he said, taking Dean’s elbow and steering him away from the doors. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about your brother?”
When he left the store an hour later, Dean had two books in a bag, Castiel’s cell number on the back of the receipt and a promise to go to a movie on Thursday, provided Dean didn’t have to work late. Dean was pretty sure that he’d never look at bookstores the same way again.
---
April 8: Angel Day
It had been a long, tiresome battle, but the angels were winning, pushing the demons back from the border. Then a great cry went up from the Host and Castiel looked to see a bright light-one of his brothers-being borne away by shadows. A bright light that he knew intimately, knew even at this distance and he added his voice to his brothers’ as the demons pulled their prisoner down into the Abyss. Castiel’s heart shuddered as Dean disappeared into Hell.
Nothing could be done in that instant, but once the border had been secured, he went before the archangels. He knelt and pled before their thrones and the archangels looked down on him with understanding and pity, but they did not grant his request of help. So, alone, but determined, he went to the border and stood at the edge of the Abyss. After a long moment of staring down into the inky darkness, he took a deep breath and spread his wings, leaning forward to follow after his soul mate.
The air was heavy and thick with a black smoke that clung to his wings and turned them an ashen grey. Falling quickly, he peered ahead, searching for the light of his mate through the darkness. Around him, demons laughed and mocked him, their sharp claws reaching out as he fell past them. By the time he caught sight of Dean’s fading grace, his wings and body bore many long rips and tears, but none of it mattered as soon as that familiar light was seen.
Dean had been hung on a rack of sorts, wings spread wide and arms flung out as if he’d been crucified to an invisible cross. Blood marred what had been pure white wings and blemish-free skin was now scored and marked by a myriad of wounds. Gently, Castiel lowered him from the demonic contraption into his embrace, wrapping the other angel’s flickering grace with his own steady light. Then, clutching Dean tightly, he beat at the heavy air and slowly rose back out of the pit on ashy wings.
For a long time, there was nothing but the smoky air before and around them, but Castiel flew on, whole being focused on nothing but returning his precious burden to Heaven’s light. Finally, the smog thinned and he could see the light above. When he got closer, he could see members of the Host, his brothers, standing at the edge and looking down. Sighting him, two angels dove off, meeting Castiel and rising with him as an honor guard.
At the cliff’s edge, the angels draw back as Castiel lands, Dean still held tight against him. The archangels come forward And Castiel looks at them boldly, unashamed of his choice and prepared to face the consequences. But Michael smiles and steps closer, reaching out to lightly place his hands on Castiel’s head. “Well done, good and faithful servant,” he says and a bright light comes over them and when it fades, Castiel’s wings are pure and unblemished again and Dean has been healed of his wounds, except for a scar the exact shape of Castiel’s hand on his shoulder where the other angel had held on too tight. And Castiel smiles back at the archangel and says, “Thank you.”
When Dean awakens, it is to Heaven’s light and Castiel’s blue eyes. When he asks how, Castiel simply tells him that he had it come to it, he would have left Heaven rather than stay without Dean. Dean scowls, but kisses him anyway and Castiel knows that he would have done the same. “I love you,” he says softly and Dean replies, “I know.”
---
April 9: Wing!fic
1. Turning Point
2. Sam isn't sure whether he should be embarrassed for his brother and his brother's angel (after all, that was a rather intimate scene he'd walked in on, if everything Gabriel had told him about an angel's wings were true) or thankful that they probably wouldn't be aware of anything for a long while (Gabriel had shown up a few minutes ago demanding a thorough grooming of his own wings in a blatant bid for Sam's attention), but either way, he wouldn't change it for the world.
3. Dean eyes the unkempt mess that is the angel’s wings and ducks into the bathroom. Returning with a comb, he pushes Cas onto the couch and settles on the angel’s upper thighs. “Alright. I’ve had enough of looking at these things like this,” he growls, dragging the comb and his free hand through the feathers in an attempt to bring order to chaos.
Under him, Cas stiffens, then abruptly goes boneless with a deep sigh. Starting at the bottom, Dean works his way up to the place where wing meets back. As he gets nearer to the joint, though, Cas starts to squirm, as if half-heartedly trying to get away from the grooming session. Dean would be more concerned about this if the angel weren’t making little sounds of pleasure as his feathers were sorted out. But then the comb scrapes over the joint itself and Cas’ back arches up in a way that Dean can’t possibly mistake and he’s suddenly mortified.
“Oh, shit. Cas, are you…Are you okay?”
Twisting so that he can look up at the human, Cas blinks dark eyes at Dean. “You did not harm me,” he says, voice somehow deeper than usual and Dean can feel a flush rising up his neck and face.
“No, no, not that,” he says, throat tight. “Your wings…are they sensitive?”
“Sensitive?”
“Yeah, like, uh, do you, uh, get pleasure from someone touching them?” And it’s a really good thing Sam’s out right now, since he definitely doesn’t want his brother seeing him freak out after realizing that he’d been essentially inappropriately groping an angel. Cas’ cheeks tinge pink and Dean knows he finally understands what he’d been asking.
“Oh. Yes, my wings are sensitive. But…” The flush on his face deepens and Cas cuts his eyes away and Dean is definitely not turned on by how edible that look makes the angel. “You do not…If you wish, you may continue.”
Which is probably the best idea Dean has heard in a long time and he wastes no time in sinking both hands into the thick feathers. Somewhere in his mind, a small part, the part that’s not solely focused on how good this feels and how good he can make it feel for Cas, wonders if this could possibly become a daily activity.
---
April 10: Genderswap
1. Dean can’t stop laughing, but Sam’s diligently ignoring him. “I always wanted a sister,” he manages after a good five minutes of trying to control his mirth. Sam shoots him a glare, forgetting that she’s supposed to be ignoring him.
“Yeah, well, I bet you wouldn’t be laughing quite so much if that witch had decided that you had to deal with cramps and PMS for the next three months,” she grumbles.
2. Oddly enough, people seemed more willing to believe that Dean and Sam were brother and sister than they usually were when told that they were brothers. Dean didn’t seem unduly concerned with this inconsistency, but Sam obsessed over the various reasons why until Dean pointed out that there was no real reason to worry about it unless they actually wanted people to think they were a couple. Sam stopped thinking about it after that.
3. Cas stopped by about a week after the change to find Dean sitting outside in the Impala. When he inquired about Sam’s whereabouts, he was told that the younger hunter was in the motel room, but unless he wanted to lose the physical evidence of his masculinity, he shouldn’t go in. Cas logically pointed out that, as an angel, he did not have a set gender, let alone physical evidence of either gender, but Dean just shook his head. “You look male, Cas and Sammy’s not gonna care about anything else. Trust me. You don’t want to go in there.” When Sam apologized the next morning for the sudden rage, Dean remembered what Jo had advised him and simply accepted the apology and let it be at that. However, he did write out a short note to himself so that he wouldn’t forget to tease Sam about it when his sister returned to being his brother.
4. “…and don’t try to argue with hi-her,” Jo continued. Dean nodded and continued to scribbled down the advice. “It’ll just make things worse and unless you really like being threatened with castration, I would recommend just sleeping in the car until she apologizes. Also, she’s gonna take a lot longer in the bathroom and asking multiple times when she’s going to be done does not make her go any faster. And when she’s on her period-”
“Whoa!” Dean held up a hand, eyes wide in horror. “I do NOT need to hear anything about that.” Jo raised an eyebrow.
“Alright. Suit yourself. But don’t call me in a panic when she starts throwing things at you and goes through major mood swings.” Dean’s expression changed to worried and his need to know what to do finally overcame his horror at learning just what made the female mind tick.
“Alright,” he said, wincing. “Tell me.”
Jo smirked. “Okay. First thing, don’t try to be logical or rational when she goes through the mood swings. It doesn’t help and usually only makes things worse. Second…”
5. “And, dude, you’re short!” Dean grinned even wider when Sam shot him a bitchface. “I haven’t been taller than you since you were fourteen! This is great! I can call you Shorty!”
Sam suddenly grinned. “Whatever you say, Sasquatch,” she said.
---
April 13: Jealous!Dean
Dean prodded his sore tooth with the tip of his tongue and glared at the piece of pie his brother was currently orgasming over. “Dude,” Sam said. “This is the best pie I’ve ever had.”. “I hate you so much right now,” he grumbled.
---
April 14: Angst
Lucifer can’t find him. Hours and days spent searching for the bright flame that was his vessel-to-be’s mind. A week, three, spent torturing demons to try to get some rumor of the Winchester’s passing. And with each minute that passes and lengthens the time since he’s last seen Sam, last felt the way his mind wraps around his thought-form, last heard the voice that now haunts his own dreams…with every minute, he gets more and more desperate.
Not being able to find Sam is not acceptable. There should be nothing separating their minds. He should be able to slip into the human’s dreamscape with a thought.
But he can’t.
And he doesn’t know why.
There is nothing he can think of that would be able to block Sam’s mind from him. Nothing he has ever heard of with the power to sever such a powerful bond without him knowing.
And to think he’d left their last meeting with harsh words and a bleak promise of ‘soon.’ Now, he’d give everything he has just for a moment in which to tell Sam he is sorry. Anything for just a chance.
But he wishes in vain and when he closes his eyes, Sam’s hate-filled eyes stare at him, blame him for everything and he cries out that it’s not his fault, that he didn’t ask for it to be Sam, that he’d change all of it if he only could…And then he breaks down and weeps, hot tears for everything that has happened since the beginning of time.
He searches in vain.
Sam is nowhere to be found. If Lucifer didn’t know with absolute surety that Sam Winchester was not dead, then that was what he’d be forced to conclude. Everything he’s tried has turned up nothing but memories that are too old, not recent enough. Nothing since the last time he’d seen Sam.
It’s been four months.
It feels like forty years.
Then God returns.
Lucifer is playing at being human, sitting in a coffee joint and sipping at a mug of the bitter liquid, when God sits down across the table. He blinks at his Father, then sighs. He’s not surprised and he’s not scared.
He’s just tired.
God sips at a mocha latte and watches him, doesn’t say anything. Lucifer shrugs.
“It’s what was supposed to happen. You know that. I made my choice and you let me. End of story.”
God takes another sip.
“Alright! I’ll admit I didn’t think the consequences through all the way. Not like I really could, you know,” he says, petulant. “Remember? Not omniscient? Certainly didn’t see this happening.”
He sighs again. God refills their drinks.
“I…I’m not sure I would choose differently, if given the chance,” he admits softly, leaning his head on one hand. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Hell’s not a happy place and I certainly didn’t like being locked up all those millennia, but…but if I hadn’t made the choices I made…would I have ever met him?”
God doesn’t answer.
“Yeah…” Lucifer stares down into his drink for a long moment before glancing up at his Father. “Hey, Dad? Can I ask you something?”
God nods indulgently.
“Why…why can’t I find him?” And the words reopen the wound he thought had long since scabbed over and the pain is suddenly fresh and real and thick in his throat. “I can’t find him, no matter how hard I look and…and I don’t know why!”
God smiles, then, but before Lucifer can ask why his pain makes his Father happy, God touches two fingers to the angel’s forehead.
The coffee shop disappears and Lucifer is suddenly on the shore of a large lake. To his left, there’s a dock and someone’s sitting at the end, a fishing pole held out over the water. God’s gone and Lucifer takes a step towards the person on the dock, but voices from behind him prevent him from going further.
“Dean! Lunchtime!” And Lucifer turns to look at the man he’d spent four months (forty years) looking for. He takes a moment to just look, the sight alone a balm to his wounded soul.
Sam doesn’t look much different physically. His hair’s a little neater, a little shorter. He stands a little taller, as if some heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. But other than that, he doesn’t look any different. Except he does.
Lucifer thinks it might be the aura of utter contentment that he projects, that makes Sam look so different to him. Or maybe the wide, carefree grin that Lucifer has never seen on that face. Or maybe it’s something else, something indefinable, that has changed the human so completely.
Sam doesn’t see him.
Neither does the little angel trailing behind him. Castiel, Lucifer thinks. Dean’s angel. The angel and the human walk right past Lucifer, as if he didn’t exist.
And maybe he doesn’t. Here and now, maybe he doesn’t really exist.
And that hurts, the thought that he’s been given this only to have it be just a vision, something can’t acknowledge him. But it’s a small hurt and easily ignored.
He trails after them as they head towards the dock and Dean, who’s coming to meet them. He watches as they set out a blanket and a picnic on the grass, under the warm sun. He listens as they chatter about nothing and everything and he slowly learns and pieces together what must have happened.
Four months ago, apparently the day after his last night with Sam, God had returned to Heaven and quickly sorted things out up there. There had been some major misinterpretation going on and nothing had been done right, including the apocalypse. God had swept the planet clean, erasing the effects of what had happened so far and putting things to where they should have been. Humanity as a whole lived several years in a blink and no one but these three and a few select others knew anything about what had actually happened.
God had arranged a little chat with the brothers Winchester. They had been given the choice to decide what happened to Lucifer. Dean had deferred that honor to his brother alone, trusting him at last.
Sam had looked at him and sentenced him to four months and forty years in a hell of his own, had specified that Lucifer not remember God’s return and the events that followed. And Lucifer had not protested.
Couldn’t have protested. Because even at the end, he would remain true to his word and give Sam everything he could. And if his own damnation was what was asked of him, then so be it.
And Lucifer now, having just learned of all this, does not hold it against the human, nor does he regret his choice.
The humans and angel finish their meal and head back to a sprawling house that Lucifer hadn’t noticed before. He follows after them, nothing but a ghost. Sam is the last to go inside and the human hesitates, one hand holding the door open. As if drawn to it, he slowly twists around, looks right at Lucifer standing a few feet away.
Lucifer swallows. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry. Goodbye.”
And Sam looks at him for a long moment, then shakes his head. “No,” he says and suddenly Lucifer can’t bear it anymore.
Turning, he starts walking away. Away from this Sam Winchester who is and isn’t his Sam Winchester. Away from this dream that isn’t a dream, but is a nightmare for an angel who Fell for love only to find that love had Fallen with him.
Away from this vision of happiness, of what should be and is, of everything that he can’t have, but wants so, so terribly.
The hand on his shoulder startles him, but when he is pulled around to see hazel eyes looking back at him with intent, he can’t feel fear. Only a terrible, terrible love that has passed through Hellfire and come out the other side bruised and burned and scarred and hurt, but alive.
“No,” Sam says again and Lucifer burns with the pain that word brings now. “No. Not goodbye.” And suddenly Lucifer can’t breathe, can’t look away from what he sees in the eyes that see him so clearly.
“Not…goodbye?” he echoes faintly and he’s sure that voice isn’t his own. Sam quirks a half-smile.
“Not goodbye,” he confirms. “Hello.”
And Lucifer Falls again for love.
---
April 15: Wee!chesters or Kid!fic
1. It had been millennia since there had been fledglings in Heaven. And then suddenly, there were four, given to individual angels to teach and care for. Michael, Raphael and Gabriel were given little Samael and it quickly became obvious that all three were needed to keep the inquisitive fledgling from harm. Brash Joel was given to Anael, who quickly recruited Uriel to help with the active fledgling. Zachariah and Joshua found themselves in charge of Asher and were both quietly relieved to find that the fledgling preferred listening to stories to exploring. The fourth fledgling, Dean (he’d been called something different originally, but he’d insisted on Dean and would respond to nothing else), was given to Castiel, who, despite Dean’s stubbornness and willful personality, couldn’t help but fall a little deeper in love every time mossy green eyes looked at him.
2. Michael is one of Dean's favorite targets and Castiel has decided to be grateful that Michael sees it all in good fun. Raphael scowls and does his best to keep Samael out of Dean’s circle of influence. Gabriel just sits back and watches Dean tug on Michael’s wings, latch onto his clothes, ask him a million questions he already knows the answers to and just generally make a nuisance of himself. Michael takes it in stride, having already gotten used to Samael’s inquisitive nature. (He says that compared to Sammy, answering Dean’s questions is actually a relief, since his own fledgling usually wants to know exactly which came first: oak tree or maple? and Dean tends to ask things like whether or not Michael’s ever wanted dark wings like Castiel’s.) Still, when playtime is over and they have to leave, Castiel adds on an apology for Dean’s behavior.
---
April 16: Possessive!Cas
Castiel eyes the sandwich with a curious expression before taking a bite. Setting it back down as he chews, he frowns. “I…don’t know,” he says after a long moment. Dean sighs and reaches for the remainder.
“Well, if you’re not going to-”
Cas quickly pulls the meal closer to himself and glares at Dean. “I did not say I didn’t want it,” he growls.
---
April 17: Jealous!Cas
They’re at the aquarium (ostensibly searching for demonic activity, but Sam thinks Dean just wanted to see the sharks) when Dean and Cas have their first major fall-out. Dean’s all but plastered against the tank housing a collection of fish that even Sam doesn’t know the name of, but they’re long and skinny and they’ve got odd little feelers at one end and a feathery fin at the other and Dean’s currently making weird faces at them.
“Dude, you guys are fugly,” the older hunter mutters, watching one coil past, two inches from his nose. Cas is standing a few feet away, looking on with what Sam thinks is his disapproving face.
“Dean. I do not appreciate this.”
The hunter barely looks at him and drops his jaw to squint at another of the creatures. “Why, Cas? Not enjoying the fish?”
“No,” the angel says. “I enjoy the fish. It is the expressions you insist on making at the fish that I do not enjoy. I was led to believe that such were not used outside of the bedroom.” Dean freezes and Sam has to turn away before he cracks up, so he doesn’t see the moment Cas decides to walk away, but he does hear his brother go after him.
“What? Hey, Cas! Wait up! I can explain!”
A woman at the next tank over glances at Sam in curiosity and Sam can’t help himself. “My brother was making sex faces at the fish and his boyfriend didn’t appreciate it,” he says, shrugging and maybe grinning just a little.
The woman nods sagely. “Ah. My husband did that once. I wish your brother luck in getting off of the couch within three weeks.” Sam nods and doesn’t fight the grin this time.
---
April 18: Protective!Dean
Sam’s pretty sure it started with a sandwich. Which may or may not have been influenced by a certain archangel-turned-Trickster. Gabriel’s being uncharacteristically tightlipped about his motives in the whole affair.
Anyway. Sandwich.
Somewhere in Wyoming, they come across a diner that makes the best French dip Sam’s ever had. Dean agrees, apparently, if the way he’s blocked out everything but the sandwich is any indication. Cas is sitting next to the elder hunter, looking vaguely uncomfortable, but he looks like that a lot, so Sam’s not too worried. His concern levels rise, though, when Gabriel makes an appearance, already snacking on a candy bar.
The archangel doesn’t say anything and Sam’s content to ignore him in favor of eating and Dean doesn’t even seem to notice the angel’s there, which really should have tipped Sam off. But it didn’t, because, dude. Best damn French dip.
And then Gabriel starts talking quietly to Cas and the other angel sort of leans in closer, like it’s necessary to more easily understand his brother (and with Gabe, really, it just might). Sam notices that, but mostly because Gabriel’s never really started up a serious conversation with Castiel before and that’s what this looks like.
He doesn’t get a chance to think too much about it, though, since Dean finishes his sandwich right about then and notices Gabriel and irritation instantly replaces the look of bliss. Sam forgets for about three weeks.
Only three weeks because that’s how long it takes to notice the little touches Gabriel’s constantly bestowing on Cas. Hands, wrists, arms, shoulders, back, even a few across the knees or thighs and Sam’s suddenly worried for the younger angel, like whether or not he understands what those types of touches usually lead to.
He only has to wonder for about a week, when he sees Cas shyly touching back.
And then Dean notices. Almost five weeks after the diner in Wyoming, he notices the changed dynamic between ‘his’ angel and Gabriel. And suddenly whenever Gabriel shows up, Cas is being called over to talk about something or look at some artifact or other and Dean mostly spends his time glaring over the angel’s head at Gabriel.
The archangel seems to take this all in good fun and gets sneakier about what he does-to? with?-Cas.
At least, until he tries to kiss Cas with both of the human brothers in the room. Sam jerks forward as if to stop it himself, except he’s all the way across the room from the angels and well, Dean’s kind of already there.
And by that, he means Dean’s got Gabriel held against the wall with one hand against his throat and Cas is left blinking at the empty space where the archangel was not three seconds previous.
Gabriel just pats him on the head, grins and threatens the hunter with a lifetime of procedural cop shows if he hurts his little bro before disappearing with a snap and Dean’s left with his hand against the wall. After a confused moment, Dean turns back to Cas, who’s looking at him like he hung the moon and stars and Sam can only guess that the look hit his brother somewhere around the knees, since Dean kind of half stumbles, half falls into the angel and suddenly Sam is pretty sure this is an aspect of his brother’s life he never wants to know the details about.
Sam doesn’t bother excusing himself and just leaves, grabbing his duffle and an extra credit card so he can get his own room where he can very determinedly not think about just what Dean and Cas are probably now doing.
---