April Twitfics 2/2
Okay. There are a couple of twitfics missing here. One is a day that I just never wrote something for and the other is the round robin, which isn't finished. Other than that, this is everything.
April 19: Sam Day
1. Sam watched Dean follow Cas out in a not-quite-casual manner, then beckoned the waitress over again. “Could I get another cup of coffee?”
2. Sam stood up, cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, my name is Sam. I’ve lived with my brother and his angel for three years now.” There was a chorus of “Hi, Sam” and he managed a tight smile.
Sitting back down, Sam sighed. He’d agreed to come to at least one meeting, but really. This wasn’t necessary at all.
It wasn’t like he was jealous of Dean’s relationship with Castiel, after all. Why should he be? Dean was still his brother and Cas was still the angel that followed his brother around like a little lost puppy. Sam didn’t want that, even if they tended to wake him up in the middle of the night to rub in the fact that they had a perfectly healthy sex life.
No, not jealous, at all.
So he really didn’t understand why they had insisted he attend a meeting of Angels Anonymous, a support group that had formed to help deal with the ramifications of humans living in a household with angels or being an angel in a household of humans.
They started out with a general question and answer session, which Sam stayed silent through. At least, he did until one angel asked something that caught his attention.
“My name’s Gabriel. I live with some of my brothers and one of them just got a human, but I was wondering, is it ever as awkward for single humans living with a pair as it is for single angels? Cause walls are only so thick and honestly, it’s getting a bit irritating.”
Everyone laughs, but Sam hesitantly raises a hand to answer like he’d heard. “Hi, Gabriel. My name’s Sam. To answer your question, it’s frustrating as hell for humans, too.” There’s a murmur of agreement from the other humans. “And I haven’t found any way to make it less so in the last three years.”
The angel grins at that and Sam finds himself smiling back, more at ease than he had been. Q&A ends shortly after that as they transition into success stories and then to the day’s topic of concern. When it’s all done, Sam hangs around for the cookies and punch, chatting idly with a couple of humans who were living with a new pair and wanted some advice on how to deal with the honeymoon stage.
Gabriel waits until Sam’s done talking to them to drift over to him. “So,” the angel says. “Do you like chocolate or vanilla better?”
Sam blinks at him. “Vanilla,” he says after a moment. The angel smiles.
“Well, there’s this little place down on Gage Boulevard that has the best vanilla shakes you’ve ever tasted. Chocolate, too, in case you wanted a change of pace,” Gabriel tells him, a smile curling one side of his mouth. Sam smiles back.
“Really?” he says, but they’re already moving towards the door and Sam’s not sure why Dean and Cas had wanted him to go to this meeting in the first place, but he’s suddenly not sorry he came.
---
April 20: Gen Day
“So,” Gabriel drawled, dragging one finger through a ring of condensation. “So, it goes like a circle with a curlicue. Add a dash here and a short line there and you’ve got yourself a bonafide Yeti summoning charm.”
The Trickster next to him, some little religion tourist come to America to see the sights, nodded slowly, his eyes glazed over. “You don’t say?” he murmured, taking a long draft of the beer he’d been holding onto for the past ten minutes. “You don’t say?”
Gabriel nodded. “Indeed. But here’s the best part. Draw it on a hunter’s back. Get’s the bastards every time.” He beamed as if he’d just come up with the trick then and there. He might well have.
Swallowing another mouthful of getting-warmer beer, the Trickster crinkled his eyebrows. “But how does it…how does it…that?”
“Ah, that’s the secret,” Gabriel confided. He paused a moment to finish off his own beer and order a new one. “That’s where the rabbit comes in.”
“Rabbit?”
“Uh-huh. Fast little buggers, rabbits. Gotta be, if they want to live. So, you got the rabbit and you do the charm and presto! Sit back and watch the flood.”
The Trickster laughed. “Oooh! The flood! That’s a good one!”
Gabriel nodded congenially. “I know, right? Did that one myself. Caught the unicorns out, I did. Silly things. All flowers and peace and love and who-knows-what-else.”
Abruptly serious, the Trickster nodded. “Ah, yes. Saw one last week.”
“You don’t say?”
“Yeah. Down in…over by…tiny creek. Was by a tiny creek. Didn’t like me much.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Gabriel said, downing half his beer, then blinking as the bottle suddenly separated into two. “Hey. I got an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“…Whuzzat?”
“I’ll show you.”
And Gabriel snapped.
---
April 21: Smutty Day
1. “So, what is that stuff?”
“Smut,” Sam said, carefully adding a small amount of it to the concoction.
Dean frowned. “No, seriously. I know that stuff ain’t related to sex. So, what is it, really?”
Sighing, Sam rolled his eyes, but didn’t look up from what he was doing. “No, seriously, Dean. It’s called smut. It’s a type of fungus that causes plant disease in corn and sugarcane and it happens to be an ingredient in this potion, so if you’ll stop looking over my shoulder, maybe we could actually get rid of the harvest god sometime this decade.”
2. Sam carefully screws the cap onto the flask of potion, then glances at Dean. “You want to carry it or should I?” he asks.
Dean shrugs. “Whichever. It can’t hurt us, right?”
“Not like this, no,” Sam confirms. “But we should be careful not to get it on ourselves. Most of the stuff in there is pretty harmless, but the smut was a pretty big deal in the recipe, so I don’t think we should chance it.” Dean looks askance at the small flask.
“What could it do?”
Shrugging, Sam holds the flask out and waits for Dean to take it. “Well, in nature, it attacks the reproductive system in plants, so I guess…” He trails off as Dean stares at the flask in horror, holding it out as far as he can without letting go.
“Get it away from me, Sam! I don’t want anything to do with it!” Sam grins as he takes the flask and tucks it into a duffle to take with them.
“Dude, relax. I was kidding.”
Dean glares at him. “That’s not funny, Sammy. You don’t mess with shit like that!”
“Yeah, well, you should have seen your face. That was priceless!”
---
April 22: Future!fic
Hanging up the phone, the teenager let his breath out in a long, ragged sigh. Turning, he padded through the silent house and checked in on his family as he went. Mary was a small lump in the middle of her bed and he ghosted over to brush a kiss across her forehead. Leaving her door open just a crack, he paused outside of the master bedroom. The bed was made and unoccupied, the man who should have been asleep standing by the window. With a sigh, the boy joined him.
“You should be asleep, Ash,” the man said, turning to look at him with tired blue eyes. Ash shrugged.
“I was calling Dad and I could say the same for you, Father.”
Castiel smiled softly at his son, but didn’t say anything. Turning back to the window, he sighed. Ash stood with him in silence for a moment, then just as quietly left the room for his own. The once-angel watched his reflection go.
Once he was certain the boy wasn’t coming back, he moved to the bed, sat down and pulled out the drawer in the bedside table. The phone buzzed as he lifted it out, letting him know there was one missed call. Dialing the voicemail with long practiced ease, he lifted it to his ear and listened.
"Hey, Dad. It’s Ash. It’s been another year and I’m almost sixteen now. Gabe’s at college now and Mary’s seven. You should have seen her party. Father went all out and even got a pony. Uncle Sam’s been over a lot, too, recently. I think he wants us to move closer to him, but Father doesn’t want to have to start over again. So, uh, how are things where you are? I mean, are you okay? Father says you do dangerous stuff and I hope you’re not hurt too bad. Used to be you couldn’t get hurt; you were invincible, like Superman. But that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? Just a memory now. Anyway, I was just calling to let you know that we made it another year and things are looking good. Father still works too much, but we get by and Uncle Sam and Grandpa help out sometimes. I know I used to call just to tell you I hate you, but, well, it’s not true anymore. I just…I just want to know that you think about us sometimes. Wonder if we’re alright. I mean, I’ve told you about how Father cries when he doesn’t think we notice, how Gabe closes himself off when anyone mentions you and Mary’s been asking about you…It’s hard, Dad. We miss you. We still love you. You probably won’t call back; you never have before, after all. Just wanted to let you know. So, uh, bye, Dad.”
Castiel closed the phone and carefully put it back in the drawer before laying down, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
---
April 23: Pie Day
Dean stared. “Dude, that isn’t a pie.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, it is. They call it stargazy pie.”
The other hunter stared for a moment longer, then used his fork to push the offending item further away. “Well, it’s dishonoring the name of pie, then, cause no self-respecting pie would have those things in it.” The fish heads that were sticking up seemed to stare directly at him. “Seriously, dude. Give me the holy water and I’ll prove that it’s not a real pie.”
“The pie’s not possessed, Dean.”
“I’ll believe you after you give me the holy water.”
“Sam, Dean-”
“Holy shit, Cas! Don’t do that! Sheesh!”
“I apologize. What-what is that?”
“It’s called stargazy pie.”
“That thing is not a pie, dude. Don’t believe him, Cas. Give me the holy water, Sam.”
“This is a type of pie?”
“Yeah, it is. Except mister pie elitist over here refuses to believe that pie can come in flavors other than cherry, apple and pumpkin.”
“Hey, anything else just ain’t natural, is all I’m saying. Like this demon pie.”
“The pie is not possessed, Dean, nor is there any sign of demonic activity. I believe Sam is telling the truth.”
“Sam! Stop corrupting my angel!”
“I’ll stop corrupting as soon as you take a bite of the pie.”
“Not a pie.”
“Whatever. Try it, then you can exorcise it and I’ll agree that it’s not a pie. One bite, Dean.”
“…fine. But if I get possessed, I’m coming after you first.” Dean slowly lifted the fork, winced at the six sardines still sticking head up out of the pastry, then dug the utensil into the center of the pie. Taking a deep breath, he put the forkful into his mouth and started chewing, face already screwed up into an expression of distaste. A few moments later, he was a third of the way into the pie, though the sardines had been carefully pulled out and covered so that they weren’t staring at him anymore. When Sam grinned at him, he scowled. “Shut up and get me more pie, bitch.”
---
April 24: Cliches
“I think we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, here, Dean.”
“Bite your tongue, Sam. We’ve got an ace up our sleeve.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched, dude. There’s more of them than you could shake a stick at.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Sam. I know what I’m doing.”
“Alright. If you insist. But mark my words, because I’m going to give you a nice big helping of humble pie when it turns out I was right.”
“I beg to differ, but what the hell. Bring it on.”
---
April 25: Hug!fic or Cuddling
Dean slid under the covers and froze as an arm snaked across his chest. Slowly turning his head, he could barely make out Castiel’s features in the nearly total darkness. “Is this okay?” the angel asked, hope evident in his voice. Dean hesitated a moment before sighing.
“Yeah. It’s fine.” He usually didn’t like cuddling in any context, but when Cas inched close enough that he could feel the unnatural warmth of the angel’s body all along his own, he couldn’t remember why.
---
April 26: Humor/Crack
Dean was drunk.
He knew it, Sam knew it, hell, the whole world probably knew at this point.
Which brought up a good point. How did the whole world find out? Was it some great global network that let everyone know about things like this that the whole world should know?
Maybe people just talked really quickly, like Sam was doing right now.
“Dude, slow down,” Dean said, or at least, he thought he said it. Sam wasn’t paying any attention to him and his words didn’t slow down.
So, Dean was drunk and Sam was talking really fast like a…like a…Dean frowned. What was fast? Looking up, he spotted a sign informing him that a town-wide Easter egg hunt would be taking place on Saturday blah blah blah. There was a rabbit on the paper.
Dean blinked.
Rabbits. They were fast. Like Sam. Bunnies were like Sam talked. Or something.
He took another gulp of the drink he hadn’t realized he was holding.
So, rabbits were like Sam. Fast. Fast enough to get around the world to tell them Dean was drunk?
That sounded right.
Dean nodded decisively and tapped on Sam’s shoulder to get his attention. The rabbit words finally stopped as Sam looked at him.
“Bunnies, bunnies, it must be bunnies!” Dean declared.
Sam blinked at him, looked like he was thinking, all scrunchy forehead and eyebrows, then he nodded.
“Sounds right.”
Dean grinned and took another drink.
---
April 29: Remix Someone Else's Twitfic
(The original fic was by zimmydoom99 and can be found here. Also, this is only a remix of the coda, not the first part of the fic.)
Sam must not have been home or something, because it ended up taking him several hours to call and when he did, they let the answering machine pick it up, since Dean had convinced Cas that the honeymoon was supposed to last more than a day, even if the couple had pretty much passed the real honeymoon phase two years ago.
So, Dean played the message back the next morning and grinned as Sam’s recorded voice bitched at him while he made coffee. He might’ve tuned most of it out, but at least it provided nice accompaniment to the percolator.
“These are dated yesterday, Dean! I can’t believe you blah blah blah seriously didn’t call me when you made the decision? What sort of brother are you? And if you think that I blah blah blah and blah blah blah! I hope you sent that to Bobby, too, or he’ll rip you a new one while he lectures you about familial responsibility. Blah blah blah Cas, at some point and blah blah blah. So call me, jerk!”
Dean saved the message so that Cas could listen to it later and picked up the phone, dialing Sam’s number with the ease of long familiarity. Sam picked up on the first ring.
“Dean, you jerk. I left that message at one, yesterday afternoon. It’s eight in the morning. What could you possibly have been doing that you couldn’t-never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
Dean grinned. “As you wish, Sammy. So, anything else you’d like to get off your chest?”
He heard a snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, a ton. But I’m going to save it for when I can talk to you in person. I did want to say this, though. Congratulations. Seriously. You’ve been happier the past few years than I’ve ever seen you and this can only be a good thing for you guys. I’m really glad for you.”
And cue the chick flick moment. Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, dude.” Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Dean turned and blinked at Cas, who was leaning against the door to the living room, giving him an immensely fond look.
Which would have been plenty chick flick moments for Dean for the day, but his limit still seemed broken from two days ago, so he just rolled his eyes again (and if he smiled back at Cas, well, no one but them knew it).
“Hey, Sammy. Cas is up. Why don’t you talk to him, now, so you girls can gush about flowers and whatever you guys talk about.”
“Yeah, sure. Talk to you later, then.”
“Right.” Handing the phone over to Cas, Dean sipped at his coffee and listened to the half of the conversation he could hear.
“Hello, Sam…Thank you. No, it was really very quick, but…another man at the office. Yes. …No, just a signing…well, yes. We had thought a party of some sort…A month? …Yes, yes. I was thinking…”
Cas wandered out of the kitchen and earshot, but Dean was still left with a odd fluttering in his abdomen. Taking another sip, he hoped Sam wouldn’t let Cas get too many flowers.
---
April 30: Free For All
It hadn’t been a hard hunt, more arduous than really difficult, but Sam and Dean were still sore and weary when they finally made it back to the motel at nearly two in the morning. Dean immediately claimed the bathroom, leaving Sam to pack away the stuff and wait his turn.
Checking the salt lines more for something to do than out of necessity, he spotted something lying on the pillow the bed he’d claimed. Moving closer, he saw it was a note. He opened it and, reading it, smiled. Having followed the note’s instructions, he was seated at the table, munching on a bag of gummy bears when Dean finally emerged from the bathroom.
The elder hunter looked at him a bit weirdly, but Sam paid him no mind, just scooped up a clean change of clothes and headed for the shower. He managed to get his shirt off before Cas showed up behind him.
“Hey, Cas,” he said, smiling at the angel’s reflection. Cas nodded back.
“Hello, Sam. Did you find your gift?”
Turning, Sam leaned back against the counter. “Yeah, thanks. How’d you know they were my favorite?”
The angel seemed suddenly bashful, glancing away and a bit down and Sam stepped closer, grabbing the lapel of that ridiculous trench coat to pull Cas in a bit closer, as well.
“Hey. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Too-blue eyes found his slowly and Sam smiled, softer this time. “Just so long as you don’t start giving Dean candy, too, I could care less where they came from.”
Cas considered that for a moment. “I think I can comply with that request,” he told Sam seriously.
“Good,” the hunter laughed. “Now. Did you want to wait until after my shower or join me?”
April 19: Sam Day
1. Sam watched Dean follow Cas out in a not-quite-casual manner, then beckoned the waitress over again. “Could I get another cup of coffee?”
2. Sam stood up, cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, my name is Sam. I’ve lived with my brother and his angel for three years now.” There was a chorus of “Hi, Sam” and he managed a tight smile.
Sitting back down, Sam sighed. He’d agreed to come to at least one meeting, but really. This wasn’t necessary at all.
It wasn’t like he was jealous of Dean’s relationship with Castiel, after all. Why should he be? Dean was still his brother and Cas was still the angel that followed his brother around like a little lost puppy. Sam didn’t want that, even if they tended to wake him up in the middle of the night to rub in the fact that they had a perfectly healthy sex life.
No, not jealous, at all.
So he really didn’t understand why they had insisted he attend a meeting of Angels Anonymous, a support group that had formed to help deal with the ramifications of humans living in a household with angels or being an angel in a household of humans.
They started out with a general question and answer session, which Sam stayed silent through. At least, he did until one angel asked something that caught his attention.
“My name’s Gabriel. I live with some of my brothers and one of them just got a human, but I was wondering, is it ever as awkward for single humans living with a pair as it is for single angels? Cause walls are only so thick and honestly, it’s getting a bit irritating.”
Everyone laughs, but Sam hesitantly raises a hand to answer like he’d heard. “Hi, Gabriel. My name’s Sam. To answer your question, it’s frustrating as hell for humans, too.” There’s a murmur of agreement from the other humans. “And I haven’t found any way to make it less so in the last three years.”
The angel grins at that and Sam finds himself smiling back, more at ease than he had been. Q&A ends shortly after that as they transition into success stories and then to the day’s topic of concern. When it’s all done, Sam hangs around for the cookies and punch, chatting idly with a couple of humans who were living with a new pair and wanted some advice on how to deal with the honeymoon stage.
Gabriel waits until Sam’s done talking to them to drift over to him. “So,” the angel says. “Do you like chocolate or vanilla better?”
Sam blinks at him. “Vanilla,” he says after a moment. The angel smiles.
“Well, there’s this little place down on Gage Boulevard that has the best vanilla shakes you’ve ever tasted. Chocolate, too, in case you wanted a change of pace,” Gabriel tells him, a smile curling one side of his mouth. Sam smiles back.
“Really?” he says, but they’re already moving towards the door and Sam’s not sure why Dean and Cas had wanted him to go to this meeting in the first place, but he’s suddenly not sorry he came.
---
April 20: Gen Day
“So,” Gabriel drawled, dragging one finger through a ring of condensation. “So, it goes like a circle with a curlicue. Add a dash here and a short line there and you’ve got yourself a bonafide Yeti summoning charm.”
The Trickster next to him, some little religion tourist come to America to see the sights, nodded slowly, his eyes glazed over. “You don’t say?” he murmured, taking a long draft of the beer he’d been holding onto for the past ten minutes. “You don’t say?”
Gabriel nodded. “Indeed. But here’s the best part. Draw it on a hunter’s back. Get’s the bastards every time.” He beamed as if he’d just come up with the trick then and there. He might well have.
Swallowing another mouthful of getting-warmer beer, the Trickster crinkled his eyebrows. “But how does it…how does it…that?”
“Ah, that’s the secret,” Gabriel confided. He paused a moment to finish off his own beer and order a new one. “That’s where the rabbit comes in.”
“Rabbit?”
“Uh-huh. Fast little buggers, rabbits. Gotta be, if they want to live. So, you got the rabbit and you do the charm and presto! Sit back and watch the flood.”
The Trickster laughed. “Oooh! The flood! That’s a good one!”
Gabriel nodded congenially. “I know, right? Did that one myself. Caught the unicorns out, I did. Silly things. All flowers and peace and love and who-knows-what-else.”
Abruptly serious, the Trickster nodded. “Ah, yes. Saw one last week.”
“You don’t say?”
“Yeah. Down in…over by…tiny creek. Was by a tiny creek. Didn’t like me much.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Gabriel said, downing half his beer, then blinking as the bottle suddenly separated into two. “Hey. I got an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“…Whuzzat?”
“I’ll show you.”
And Gabriel snapped.
---
April 21: Smutty Day
1. “So, what is that stuff?”
“Smut,” Sam said, carefully adding a small amount of it to the concoction.
Dean frowned. “No, seriously. I know that stuff ain’t related to sex. So, what is it, really?”
Sighing, Sam rolled his eyes, but didn’t look up from what he was doing. “No, seriously, Dean. It’s called smut. It’s a type of fungus that causes plant disease in corn and sugarcane and it happens to be an ingredient in this potion, so if you’ll stop looking over my shoulder, maybe we could actually get rid of the harvest god sometime this decade.”
2. Sam carefully screws the cap onto the flask of potion, then glances at Dean. “You want to carry it or should I?” he asks.
Dean shrugs. “Whichever. It can’t hurt us, right?”
“Not like this, no,” Sam confirms. “But we should be careful not to get it on ourselves. Most of the stuff in there is pretty harmless, but the smut was a pretty big deal in the recipe, so I don’t think we should chance it.” Dean looks askance at the small flask.
“What could it do?”
Shrugging, Sam holds the flask out and waits for Dean to take it. “Well, in nature, it attacks the reproductive system in plants, so I guess…” He trails off as Dean stares at the flask in horror, holding it out as far as he can without letting go.
“Get it away from me, Sam! I don’t want anything to do with it!” Sam grins as he takes the flask and tucks it into a duffle to take with them.
“Dude, relax. I was kidding.”
Dean glares at him. “That’s not funny, Sammy. You don’t mess with shit like that!”
“Yeah, well, you should have seen your face. That was priceless!”
---
April 22: Future!fic
Hanging up the phone, the teenager let his breath out in a long, ragged sigh. Turning, he padded through the silent house and checked in on his family as he went. Mary was a small lump in the middle of her bed and he ghosted over to brush a kiss across her forehead. Leaving her door open just a crack, he paused outside of the master bedroom. The bed was made and unoccupied, the man who should have been asleep standing by the window. With a sigh, the boy joined him.
“You should be asleep, Ash,” the man said, turning to look at him with tired blue eyes. Ash shrugged.
“I was calling Dad and I could say the same for you, Father.”
Castiel smiled softly at his son, but didn’t say anything. Turning back to the window, he sighed. Ash stood with him in silence for a moment, then just as quietly left the room for his own. The once-angel watched his reflection go.
Once he was certain the boy wasn’t coming back, he moved to the bed, sat down and pulled out the drawer in the bedside table. The phone buzzed as he lifted it out, letting him know there was one missed call. Dialing the voicemail with long practiced ease, he lifted it to his ear and listened.
"Hey, Dad. It’s Ash. It’s been another year and I’m almost sixteen now. Gabe’s at college now and Mary’s seven. You should have seen her party. Father went all out and even got a pony. Uncle Sam’s been over a lot, too, recently. I think he wants us to move closer to him, but Father doesn’t want to have to start over again. So, uh, how are things where you are? I mean, are you okay? Father says you do dangerous stuff and I hope you’re not hurt too bad. Used to be you couldn’t get hurt; you were invincible, like Superman. But that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? Just a memory now. Anyway, I was just calling to let you know that we made it another year and things are looking good. Father still works too much, but we get by and Uncle Sam and Grandpa help out sometimes. I know I used to call just to tell you I hate you, but, well, it’s not true anymore. I just…I just want to know that you think about us sometimes. Wonder if we’re alright. I mean, I’ve told you about how Father cries when he doesn’t think we notice, how Gabe closes himself off when anyone mentions you and Mary’s been asking about you…It’s hard, Dad. We miss you. We still love you. You probably won’t call back; you never have before, after all. Just wanted to let you know. So, uh, bye, Dad.”
Castiel closed the phone and carefully put it back in the drawer before laying down, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
---
April 23: Pie Day
Dean stared. “Dude, that isn’t a pie.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, it is. They call it stargazy pie.”
The other hunter stared for a moment longer, then used his fork to push the offending item further away. “Well, it’s dishonoring the name of pie, then, cause no self-respecting pie would have those things in it.” The fish heads that were sticking up seemed to stare directly at him. “Seriously, dude. Give me the holy water and I’ll prove that it’s not a real pie.”
“The pie’s not possessed, Dean.”
“I’ll believe you after you give me the holy water.”
“Sam, Dean-”
“Holy shit, Cas! Don’t do that! Sheesh!”
“I apologize. What-what is that?”
“It’s called stargazy pie.”
“That thing is not a pie, dude. Don’t believe him, Cas. Give me the holy water, Sam.”
“This is a type of pie?”
“Yeah, it is. Except mister pie elitist over here refuses to believe that pie can come in flavors other than cherry, apple and pumpkin.”
“Hey, anything else just ain’t natural, is all I’m saying. Like this demon pie.”
“The pie is not possessed, Dean, nor is there any sign of demonic activity. I believe Sam is telling the truth.”
“Sam! Stop corrupting my angel!”
“I’ll stop corrupting as soon as you take a bite of the pie.”
“Not a pie.”
“Whatever. Try it, then you can exorcise it and I’ll agree that it’s not a pie. One bite, Dean.”
“…fine. But if I get possessed, I’m coming after you first.” Dean slowly lifted the fork, winced at the six sardines still sticking head up out of the pastry, then dug the utensil into the center of the pie. Taking a deep breath, he put the forkful into his mouth and started chewing, face already screwed up into an expression of distaste. A few moments later, he was a third of the way into the pie, though the sardines had been carefully pulled out and covered so that they weren’t staring at him anymore. When Sam grinned at him, he scowled. “Shut up and get me more pie, bitch.”
---
April 24: Cliches
“I think we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, here, Dean.”
“Bite your tongue, Sam. We’ve got an ace up our sleeve.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched, dude. There’s more of them than you could shake a stick at.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Sam. I know what I’m doing.”
“Alright. If you insist. But mark my words, because I’m going to give you a nice big helping of humble pie when it turns out I was right.”
“I beg to differ, but what the hell. Bring it on.”
---
April 25: Hug!fic or Cuddling
Dean slid under the covers and froze as an arm snaked across his chest. Slowly turning his head, he could barely make out Castiel’s features in the nearly total darkness. “Is this okay?” the angel asked, hope evident in his voice. Dean hesitated a moment before sighing.
“Yeah. It’s fine.” He usually didn’t like cuddling in any context, but when Cas inched close enough that he could feel the unnatural warmth of the angel’s body all along his own, he couldn’t remember why.
---
April 26: Humor/Crack
Dean was drunk.
He knew it, Sam knew it, hell, the whole world probably knew at this point.
Which brought up a good point. How did the whole world find out? Was it some great global network that let everyone know about things like this that the whole world should know?
Maybe people just talked really quickly, like Sam was doing right now.
“Dude, slow down,” Dean said, or at least, he thought he said it. Sam wasn’t paying any attention to him and his words didn’t slow down.
So, Dean was drunk and Sam was talking really fast like a…like a…Dean frowned. What was fast? Looking up, he spotted a sign informing him that a town-wide Easter egg hunt would be taking place on Saturday blah blah blah. There was a rabbit on the paper.
Dean blinked.
Rabbits. They were fast. Like Sam. Bunnies were like Sam talked. Or something.
He took another gulp of the drink he hadn’t realized he was holding.
So, rabbits were like Sam. Fast. Fast enough to get around the world to tell them Dean was drunk?
That sounded right.
Dean nodded decisively and tapped on Sam’s shoulder to get his attention. The rabbit words finally stopped as Sam looked at him.
“Bunnies, bunnies, it must be bunnies!” Dean declared.
Sam blinked at him, looked like he was thinking, all scrunchy forehead and eyebrows, then he nodded.
“Sounds right.”
Dean grinned and took another drink.
---
April 29: Remix Someone Else's Twitfic
(The original fic was by zimmydoom99 and can be found here. Also, this is only a remix of the coda, not the first part of the fic.)
Sam must not have been home or something, because it ended up taking him several hours to call and when he did, they let the answering machine pick it up, since Dean had convinced Cas that the honeymoon was supposed to last more than a day, even if the couple had pretty much passed the real honeymoon phase two years ago.
So, Dean played the message back the next morning and grinned as Sam’s recorded voice bitched at him while he made coffee. He might’ve tuned most of it out, but at least it provided nice accompaniment to the percolator.
“These are dated yesterday, Dean! I can’t believe you blah blah blah seriously didn’t call me when you made the decision? What sort of brother are you? And if you think that I blah blah blah and blah blah blah! I hope you sent that to Bobby, too, or he’ll rip you a new one while he lectures you about familial responsibility. Blah blah blah Cas, at some point and blah blah blah. So call me, jerk!”
Dean saved the message so that Cas could listen to it later and picked up the phone, dialing Sam’s number with the ease of long familiarity. Sam picked up on the first ring.
“Dean, you jerk. I left that message at one, yesterday afternoon. It’s eight in the morning. What could you possibly have been doing that you couldn’t-never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
Dean grinned. “As you wish, Sammy. So, anything else you’d like to get off your chest?”
He heard a snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, a ton. But I’m going to save it for when I can talk to you in person. I did want to say this, though. Congratulations. Seriously. You’ve been happier the past few years than I’ve ever seen you and this can only be a good thing for you guys. I’m really glad for you.”
And cue the chick flick moment. Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, dude.” Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Dean turned and blinked at Cas, who was leaning against the door to the living room, giving him an immensely fond look.
Which would have been plenty chick flick moments for Dean for the day, but his limit still seemed broken from two days ago, so he just rolled his eyes again (and if he smiled back at Cas, well, no one but them knew it).
“Hey, Sammy. Cas is up. Why don’t you talk to him, now, so you girls can gush about flowers and whatever you guys talk about.”
“Yeah, sure. Talk to you later, then.”
“Right.” Handing the phone over to Cas, Dean sipped at his coffee and listened to the half of the conversation he could hear.
“Hello, Sam…Thank you. No, it was really very quick, but…another man at the office. Yes. …No, just a signing…well, yes. We had thought a party of some sort…A month? …Yes, yes. I was thinking…”
Cas wandered out of the kitchen and earshot, but Dean was still left with a odd fluttering in his abdomen. Taking another sip, he hoped Sam wouldn’t let Cas get too many flowers.
---
April 30: Free For All
It hadn’t been a hard hunt, more arduous than really difficult, but Sam and Dean were still sore and weary when they finally made it back to the motel at nearly two in the morning. Dean immediately claimed the bathroom, leaving Sam to pack away the stuff and wait his turn.
Checking the salt lines more for something to do than out of necessity, he spotted something lying on the pillow the bed he’d claimed. Moving closer, he saw it was a note. He opened it and, reading it, smiled. Having followed the note’s instructions, he was seated at the table, munching on a bag of gummy bears when Dean finally emerged from the bathroom.
The elder hunter looked at him a bit weirdly, but Sam paid him no mind, just scooped up a clean change of clothes and headed for the shower. He managed to get his shirt off before Cas showed up behind him.
“Hey, Cas,” he said, smiling at the angel’s reflection. Cas nodded back.
“Hello, Sam. Did you find your gift?”
Turning, Sam leaned back against the counter. “Yeah, thanks. How’d you know they were my favorite?”
The angel seemed suddenly bashful, glancing away and a bit down and Sam stepped closer, grabbing the lapel of that ridiculous trench coat to pull Cas in a bit closer, as well.
“Hey. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Too-blue eyes found his slowly and Sam smiled, softer this time. “Just so long as you don’t start giving Dean candy, too, I could care less where they came from.”
Cas considered that for a moment. “I think I can comply with that request,” he told Sam seriously.
“Good,” the hunter laughed. “Now. Did you want to wait until after my shower or join me?”