In the Garden of Gethsemane
Title: In the Garden of Gethsemane
Rating: Pg-13 (will be NC-17)
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Dean/OFC (non-romantic/sexual)
Spoilers: Season 6
Length: 3,614 words
Summary: Castiel is the New God, Sam is just this side of crazy, Dean is super angsty and a girl(kind of) with a weird name wants to help.
Author's Note: Sons of Anarchy is a good show and I don't want them to kill Juice.
In the Garden of Gethsemane
Sammy!" He flings his arms around his brother's middle, ignoring the indignant grunt. Sam hugs him back, and Dean thinks to himself that this world isn't too terrible. Not when people can get better. Then Sam wraps his own arms around Dean and he thinks to himself that the world isn't too terrible in the least.
"Ya idjits wanna stop clowning around?" the affection in Bobby's voice is incredibly poorly disguised. Dean grins and ducks his head, thinking that he may have to go to the store and buy himself some lacey pink underwear if he keeps acting like this much of a chick.
"I'll catch you later."
Yo is standing awkwardly in the background, shuffling from one foot to another. She waves her hand in a limp kind of good bye. With Cas (it feels like so long ago), he would have invited the angel in for a beer. Rolled his eyes and told him that he didn't have to immediately return to the mother-ship.
Yo disappears around the corner of a stacked park cars. Dean lets her go.
~*~
"If we manage to save him, will you forgive Castiel?" Yo asks. They've been driving for over an hour in the rain now, the Doors playing in the background. The question surprises him. Fifteen minutes ago she'd asked him what flavor jelly bean he'd rather be.
"I,,," Dean falters. Would he forgive Cas? Honestly, just like with their two previous apocalypses, he hasn't really thought of what comes after. He hadn't really banked on living after.
Castiel had dragged him out of hell. He's saved Dean's ass more times than could be counted. He'd saved Sam and Bobby too. He helped save the entire human race, and he's not even human.
But he hurt Sam. Dean's never forgiven anyone for hurting Sam. Not even Dad, though he'd learned to shove it down and not think about it till Alastair had dragged it to the surface and put a knife in his hand.
He also can't forget that Castiel made a choice. No one forced Crowley's deal onto him, though he was in a tight spot. In another tight spot, would he do it again? Years from now, after Dean and Sam and anyone else who could stop him is dead? Part of hunting is leaving the world safer for future generations. What's to say that centuries from now, Cas wouldn't pull a similar stunt?
"No." He finally answers. He's staring at the road, but he can see the long, evaluating look Yo gives him from the side.
"You're very predictable in the way that you only give humans the benefit of the doubt, while you're willing to kill supernatural things before they even prove themselves to be dangerous." It sounds like a rebuke.
Yo's disapproving silence lasts for about ten minutes. Then she ends up in a serious dialogue about the subliminal messages in beer commercials and Dean tunes her out.
~*~
"You disappeared the last time." Cas is tilting his head in that confused way of his. It doesn't feel genuine though. This isn't the confused, sometimes naive Cas that he misses so desperately. This God-Cas is just playing at being his old friend.
"Yeah." He answers lamely. It’s so hard too think right now. Dean finds himself just wanting to slow down.
Cas looks better than he ever has, in his new incarnation. The red rimmed eyes, the shadows and weary slump of his shoulders- all that is gone. The Cas standing before him is relaxed and at ease in his vessel. His skin practically glows with health. His eyes aren't tired, they're a brilliant blue. They're still the wrong blue though.
"I thought we were friends Dean. Why would you disappear on me?" Cas isn't even looking at him. Instead, he's staring out at the gorgeous shore he's transported them too. The water is the color that Dean's only seen in cruise ship brochures.
"We were friends." His voice comes out angry and wounded.
"But not anymore?" Cas asks. He’s not genuinely curious. Dean knows him now, knows that this persona is just an act. He doesn't even have to guess- Cas is reading his mind like he promised not to. But then again, this isn't Cas. It might never be again.
"Don't pull that shit with me, man. Friends don't try to kill each other. Friends stay out of each other's fucking heads." Dean's curled his hands into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
Castiel learned to respect personal space as an angel. As the New God, he ignores it. Dean doesn't see him move, but Cas is suddenly inches away from him, too close for Dean to throw a punch. Dean can feel the unnatural heat that the former angel gives off, can see how there's an otherworldly light shining from beneath his skin.
"And you shouldn't lie to me, Dean. You never wanted to be my friend. Not really." Cas has dropped his smile and is beginning to look smitey. Dean swallows, but refuses to step back.
"Fuck Cas! I give a shit about you, okay? I-"
"I never said you didn't care about me, Dean." Cas interrupts swiftly. "I just said you never wanted to be friends." With that, Cas moves forward. The kiss is chaste and dry, Cas' hands placed gently on his jaw and the nape of his neck. Dean sinks into it. For a moment, there's only Cas' warmth and the sound of the tide.
And then he’s shoving Cas away, stumbling backward over sand and nearly tripping in his heavy boots.
“Dude, I’m not fucking gay!” It’s ridiculous that that’s the first thing to pop out of his mouth. Not something about their friendship or Castiel’s propensity towards keeping secrets, just a knee jerk homophobic reaction.
Cas shrugs loosely. As the New God, he is completely at ease in a body he was once stiff in, relaxed and casual.
“No. You’re not. You usually prefer women. But sometimes, you swap out breasts for a flat chest. It’s interesting, how many times I appear in your fantasies. Usually in a threesome, in fact. Does adding a women to the mix make you more comfortable?”
Dean tries to make his mouth work. Castiel has just dragged all of his secrets out of the closet and thrown them out into the open air. Even worse, he doesn’t sound particularly surprised or moved by them. Just as if they’re an interesting tidbit, like something you read in a tour book. It makes his insides feel like he’s been put in a Cuisinart. A ‘Dean liver pâté’.
Castiel steps forward into Dean’s personal space again and places his hands on Dean’s hips. They’re feather light, not demanding, and the next kiss is just as chaste as the first one. A dry, tender press of lips together, just a hint of moisture from Cas’ tongue. Dean grips the former angel’s stupid hippy shirt tightly, his own feet feeling rather unsteady underneath him. One of Cas’ hands moves delicately on his side, soothing him the way one would a feral animal.
“How could you leave me last time Dean?” Cas whispers when he breaks the kiss. He doesn’t give Dean time to recover, just moves on to his neck. Dean can feel eyelashes against his sensitive skin.
“Because…” He chokes out, Cas’ mouth distracting and blurring his thoughts .
“Because you were going to kill me, man. And I need to stop you, you can’t just be God now-” Cas cuts him off with another kiss. This one is slightly more present, with just a hint of force.
“But how? You just left…” Cas says softly, sounding hurt. And oh, thank God (the old one), because Dean was terrified that Cas didn’t give a shit and that the whole thing had just some curiosity to keep him from growing bored. Thank God that he can at least see the old Cas, the one w to whom he was more than just a science project. The one he can trust.
“Oh. There’s this girl, she’s been traveling with me. She can do all sorts of weird things and she never says who she is.” Dean’s babbling while Cas nibbles lightly at his collar bone, keeping things as innocent as fumbling teens, but so much more sure of himself.
“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel whispers in his ear. Dean frowns.
“What… for what?” Dread rises up in his stomach, uncurling like bad food that’s just stared to take effect.
“Well, I need to know my enemies in order to destroy them.” Castiel steps away from him and then straightens his shirt where Dean‘s mussed it.
“You fucker!” The punch doesn’t catch Castiel unaware, though he turns his head politely in order to not break Dean’s hand. It does, however, give Yo the time she needs. Completely unexpectedly Yo’s hand closes around his wrist, her eyes wide and panicked. The next second, they’re tumbling haphazardly into a city fountain. Yo is breathing hard, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. She’s wheezing and leaning heavily against him, shivering hard.
“His control is getting better.” She says, when she can finally breathe again. “It took me a lot longer to find you this time. And it was harder to drag you away.”
Dean nods, his lips still trembling and swollen from the kiss. Energy is buzzing through him and he feels lighter than his body.
“Dean? You okay?” Yo asks.
“Yeah.” His voice comes out rougher than he’d expected it too. “Yeah I’m just peachy.”
~*~
When Yo meets Sam (of course, after Dean’s fretted about every possible thing that can go
wrong and finally decided that if she was going to kill them all she would have done it by now) it goes something like this:
“Wow!” She grins up at Sam and then points at his head. “You are really really tall!” Sam’s probably got a full foot on her- the top of her head barely comes up to his chin.
“I…” Sam starts confusedly. “Thanks?”
Yo grins up at him stupidly for the next few minutes and Sam idles uncomfortably. Curiously enough, Dean can’t help but notice that the girl looses any concept of personal space around his brother. It’d be kind of cute, if she wasn’t, you know, a monster.
~*~
They sleep in the car that night, pulled over to the side of the road. Or, Yo sleeps and he tries to.
Instead the feeling of Cas’ lips on his echo again and again. A light, ghostly brush. Cas’ face, close enough
that he could pick out the fine wrinkles around his eyes. The otherworldly glow about him that was so
lovely and a bit nauseating at the same time.
He doesn’t like guys. Doesn’t check out their asses in bars, doesn’t slide his fingers gently over the backs of their neck. There’s a special something he enjoys about women- the delicateness to them. They’re a break from hunting and gruffness and violence. He has to be gentle with them- careful hands, never pressing to hard. There are definitely some women who could match him blow for blow, meeting his brand of violence with their own. Equals, rather than pretty dolls. He has no doubt that getting Jo or Bella in bed would have been more than he could handle- that’s one of the reasons he never tried very hard with them. He likes his girls sweet and looking for a strong man.
He tries not to think about how he’d never have to play nice with Cas. Tries hard not to think about having someone who he wouldn’t have to be so careful with. Someone who truly knows him, knows all the depraved thoughts that push to the surface and are inextricably linked to Hell and sex. Someone who knows why he shies away from having hands around his neck or why he loves sinking his teeth the soft muscle where the neck meets the shoulder. Someone who would have to be gentle with him instead of the other way around. Castiel’s long fingers, infinitely stronger than his own. The smooth firmness of his arms, the lean slender back. Facial features that are sharp, with a bit of scruff on them rather than a cute button nose and perfectly done eyebrows.
Yo snores on in the back seat and Dean tries not to acknowledge just how much bull shit he’s attempting to swallow.
~*~
Yo sitting on the table surrounded by papers, reading a ‘How To’ on Ikebana. Sam is in the chair across from her, enthralled with his lap top.
“Blondes?” Dean asks, from where he’s sitting. His little brother rolls his eyes and Dean can see Bejeweled on the screen. Well, at least he’s not working.
“No, chrysanthemums. “ Yo fills unnecessarily. “Apparently you shouldn’t’t mix them with darker flowers. Who knew?”
“Where did you even get that?” Sam asks.
“Why? You want a copy Sammy?” Dean gives him a snarky grin that Sam responds t o with a role of his eyes.
“It’s Bobby’s.” Yo answers. Dean starts laughing in the middle of a sip of beer and nearly chokes.
“Bobby’s? Why the hell does Bobby have a book on flowers? Are there some supernatural gardening monsters out there?” He manages to ask, once he’s properly swallowed.
“No. He just likes Japan.” Yo turns a page. “You didn’t notice, with all the Japanese scrolls and the Japanese bestiaries and spell books?”
Dean shrugs.
“I don’t pry into other people’s shit.” He answers her. Yo snorts in response.
“What?” He demands.
“Maybe if you pried more, people would surprise you less. Try the Jewish mother thing, I’m sure you could pull it off.”
The easy mood in the room evaporates almost immediately. For a moment or two, the only sound is the cheesy sounds made by the Bejeweled game. Dean can tell his brother is trying really hard to say out of this, even if he wants to throw his own two cents in.
“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” The hunter demands. There’s another long pause, this one made busy by Yo marking her place in the book and climbing off the table.
“It means that, maybe, if you swallowed your macho bullshit long enough to ask Castiel how he was doing, we might not be in this situation right now.” The porch door slams behind her before he can get in a reply. Dean finishes his beer. The taste is bitter.
~*~
Halfway through their research break at Bobby’s Sam starts clutching his head and curls up into a ball. The screaming starts a few minutes later.
Dean can’t do anything but hold him and mutter soft reassurances. Later, when Sam has fallen into restless unconsciousness and Dean has dried the tears and snot off his face and hauled his enormous ass to bed, the older brother sits down and thinks. There are some things he’s been trying to avoid- Cas’ mussed hair, his slender frame. It’s easy to push those aside and just be angry. He doesn’t want to forgive Cas right now. He wants to kill him. Put some of those tricks he learned in Hell to good use. The fact that Cas already knows all his tricks with a knife will only make it more fun- that way, the angel can hold his breath, knowing just how cruel Dean can be. Right now, it’s just a pipe dream. Dean clenches his fist so hard that blood wells up in crescents on his palm. He’ll figure it out. He’ll figure it out, and then he’ll rip Cas to pieces.
~*~
Dean chooses the corner booth with a good view of the door and orders a beer and a slice of blue berry pie. Yo sits across from him in the diner, occasionally looking over her shoulder at something in the air that Dean can’t see and probably isn’t even there. He got her a beer, but she’s drinking it with a god damn straw for Christ’s sake. Freak.
“If you were a muffin…” Yo starts, and then trails off. Neither of them really feel like having a discussion right now. Yo babbles incessantly most of the time-an idea she can’t get out of her head, a point she just has to make, or sometimes just to fill the depressing silence Dean imposes.
Sam’s screams have filled far too much of the silence today. They’re still ringing in Dean’s ears. The waitress returns and Dean forces himself back into the present, back into a shitty dinner with a forty something woman and her tired eyes.
“Sorry hon. We’re out of pie.” She says. “Can I get you something else?”
“Yes!” Yo answers for him. “Cheese nachos. And salsa.”
“Ignore her.” Dean tells the waitress. He sets a handful of bills down on the table for the beer, and a few extra thrown in for the tip.
“We’re on our way out.”
The tired woman smiles at him (And why the fuck is everyone tired? It’s not fair. He and Sam live shit lives so everyone else can live good ones, but does anyone get an easy break? Just what the fuck are they saving?) and Yo slinks out of the booth, opening the door for him.
“It’s a good thing they didn’t have pie.” Yo tells him earnestly. Dean raises an eyebrow.
“You gonna go on about my health like Sammy?” He asks her. Yo shakes her head, piercing glittering in the fluorescent light.
“Nope. It’s just…” She looks computationally to her right and then her left.
“It’s just that pie is a sign of doom.” Yo confides in him.
Dean rolls his eyes, and ambles back to the Impala, a monster following at his heels like a loyal dog.
~*~
The vampires are all very young and stupid. When Dean sets the fire on the left side of the barn, the whole of them come running out the front. Three of them run so fast they take off their own heads with the razor sharp wire he’d set at neck level. Two more go down, tripped up by the bodies. Bobby takes off their heads with surprising speed for his age. Dean grins- the old man’s still got it.
The last of the freshly made leeches takes a running leap at Dean. He readies the machete but it’s unnecessary. Yo finally makes herself useful in the form of a tractor wheel being flung across the farm yard, crushing the monster. Dean has plenty of time to mosey over and take off his head.
“Still the big one inside.” Bobby informs him gruffly. Dean nods and his fingers tighten on the wooden handle. The vampires had all been young and foolish but their maker- the old thing still in the barn- had jabbered on about munching on people during the Civil War. It might be crazy, but at that old it’s still dangerous.
“It’s in the front of the barn.” Yo has slinked next to him, startling Dean. He nearly swings the machete at her out of surprise. When he’s recovered, he nearly swings it again out of annoyance.
“Don’t do that!” He snaps at her. She doesn’t look away from where she’s staring intently at the barn, eyes narrowed in concentration. It doesn’t even seem as if she’s heard him.
“It intends to drop a canister of gasoline on you both when you walk in through the front.”
She reminds him of Cas right now. Focused and completely un-phased by his typical attitude. She has a goal and intends to accomplish it.
It makes Dean scowl. He wants to stop fucking thinking about Cas.
“We should take the side door.” She states monotonously.
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.”
Bobby has caught up with them. Yo blinks once, seemingly clearing her head. Then she smiles, cheery.
“If you’re gonna call me Sherlock Holmes, I totally want a pipe, Mr. Singer.”
Bobby glares at her- he’s said about four times now that being called ‘Mr. Singer’ makes him feel old, but her only response to it has been a friendly ‘You are old, silly!’.
“Let’s just get this finished.” The older hunter states stiffly. Dean nods in agreement.
“Girls first!” Yo skips on ahead. Dean starts to follow her, but a hand on his shoulder stops him.
“You being careful?” Bobby’s tone is low and hurried.
“It’s just a vampire nest, man. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” He replies, confused. Bobby hasn’t given him any shit about the hunts he’s been taking now or the ones he took solo when Sam decided to take a stint bar tending.
“Not what I mean, idjit.” Bobby glances quickly in the direction that Yo has bounded off in then turns back to finish what he was saying.
“It’s just that you and Sparky over there seem awful friendly. I want to remind you that no good ever comes out of that. I thought you’d be a bit more cautious after Cas-”
Dean turns sharply.
“You don’t need to fucking get on my case Bobby.” He hisses. “Cause I sure as hell didn’t forget what happened. And she sure as fuck isn’t my bff, okay?”
Bobby shrugs and lets it go. Dean grits his teeth and resolves to try and hate both Yo and Cas just a little more.
Rating: Pg-13 (will be NC-17)
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Dean/OFC (non-romantic/sexual)
Spoilers: Season 6
Length: 3,614 words
Summary: Castiel is the New God, Sam is just this side of crazy, Dean is super angsty and a girl(kind of) with a weird name wants to help.
Author's Note: Sons of Anarchy is a good show and I don't want them to kill Juice.
In the Garden of Gethsemane
Sammy!" He flings his arms around his brother's middle, ignoring the indignant grunt. Sam hugs him back, and Dean thinks to himself that this world isn't too terrible. Not when people can get better. Then Sam wraps his own arms around Dean and he thinks to himself that the world isn't too terrible in the least.
"Ya idjits wanna stop clowning around?" the affection in Bobby's voice is incredibly poorly disguised. Dean grins and ducks his head, thinking that he may have to go to the store and buy himself some lacey pink underwear if he keeps acting like this much of a chick.
"I'll catch you later."
Yo is standing awkwardly in the background, shuffling from one foot to another. She waves her hand in a limp kind of good bye. With Cas (it feels like so long ago), he would have invited the angel in for a beer. Rolled his eyes and told him that he didn't have to immediately return to the mother-ship.
Yo disappears around the corner of a stacked park cars. Dean lets her go.
~*~
"If we manage to save him, will you forgive Castiel?" Yo asks. They've been driving for over an hour in the rain now, the Doors playing in the background. The question surprises him. Fifteen minutes ago she'd asked him what flavor jelly bean he'd rather be.
"I,,," Dean falters. Would he forgive Cas? Honestly, just like with their two previous apocalypses, he hasn't really thought of what comes after. He hadn't really banked on living after.
Castiel had dragged him out of hell. He's saved Dean's ass more times than could be counted. He'd saved Sam and Bobby too. He helped save the entire human race, and he's not even human.
But he hurt Sam. Dean's never forgiven anyone for hurting Sam. Not even Dad, though he'd learned to shove it down and not think about it till Alastair had dragged it to the surface and put a knife in his hand.
He also can't forget that Castiel made a choice. No one forced Crowley's deal onto him, though he was in a tight spot. In another tight spot, would he do it again? Years from now, after Dean and Sam and anyone else who could stop him is dead? Part of hunting is leaving the world safer for future generations. What's to say that centuries from now, Cas wouldn't pull a similar stunt?
"No." He finally answers. He's staring at the road, but he can see the long, evaluating look Yo gives him from the side.
"You're very predictable in the way that you only give humans the benefit of the doubt, while you're willing to kill supernatural things before they even prove themselves to be dangerous." It sounds like a rebuke.
Yo's disapproving silence lasts for about ten minutes. Then she ends up in a serious dialogue about the subliminal messages in beer commercials and Dean tunes her out.
~*~
"You disappeared the last time." Cas is tilting his head in that confused way of his. It doesn't feel genuine though. This isn't the confused, sometimes naive Cas that he misses so desperately. This God-Cas is just playing at being his old friend.
"Yeah." He answers lamely. It’s so hard too think right now. Dean finds himself just wanting to slow down.
Cas looks better than he ever has, in his new incarnation. The red rimmed eyes, the shadows and weary slump of his shoulders- all that is gone. The Cas standing before him is relaxed and at ease in his vessel. His skin practically glows with health. His eyes aren't tired, they're a brilliant blue. They're still the wrong blue though.
"I thought we were friends Dean. Why would you disappear on me?" Cas isn't even looking at him. Instead, he's staring out at the gorgeous shore he's transported them too. The water is the color that Dean's only seen in cruise ship brochures.
"We were friends." His voice comes out angry and wounded.
"But not anymore?" Cas asks. He’s not genuinely curious. Dean knows him now, knows that this persona is just an act. He doesn't even have to guess- Cas is reading his mind like he promised not to. But then again, this isn't Cas. It might never be again.
"Don't pull that shit with me, man. Friends don't try to kill each other. Friends stay out of each other's fucking heads." Dean's curled his hands into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
Castiel learned to respect personal space as an angel. As the New God, he ignores it. Dean doesn't see him move, but Cas is suddenly inches away from him, too close for Dean to throw a punch. Dean can feel the unnatural heat that the former angel gives off, can see how there's an otherworldly light shining from beneath his skin.
"And you shouldn't lie to me, Dean. You never wanted to be my friend. Not really." Cas has dropped his smile and is beginning to look smitey. Dean swallows, but refuses to step back.
"Fuck Cas! I give a shit about you, okay? I-"
"I never said you didn't care about me, Dean." Cas interrupts swiftly. "I just said you never wanted to be friends." With that, Cas moves forward. The kiss is chaste and dry, Cas' hands placed gently on his jaw and the nape of his neck. Dean sinks into it. For a moment, there's only Cas' warmth and the sound of the tide.
And then he’s shoving Cas away, stumbling backward over sand and nearly tripping in his heavy boots.
“Dude, I’m not fucking gay!” It’s ridiculous that that’s the first thing to pop out of his mouth. Not something about their friendship or Castiel’s propensity towards keeping secrets, just a knee jerk homophobic reaction.
Cas shrugs loosely. As the New God, he is completely at ease in a body he was once stiff in, relaxed and casual.
“No. You’re not. You usually prefer women. But sometimes, you swap out breasts for a flat chest. It’s interesting, how many times I appear in your fantasies. Usually in a threesome, in fact. Does adding a women to the mix make you more comfortable?”
Dean tries to make his mouth work. Castiel has just dragged all of his secrets out of the closet and thrown them out into the open air. Even worse, he doesn’t sound particularly surprised or moved by them. Just as if they’re an interesting tidbit, like something you read in a tour book. It makes his insides feel like he’s been put in a Cuisinart. A ‘Dean liver pâté’.
Castiel steps forward into Dean’s personal space again and places his hands on Dean’s hips. They’re feather light, not demanding, and the next kiss is just as chaste as the first one. A dry, tender press of lips together, just a hint of moisture from Cas’ tongue. Dean grips the former angel’s stupid hippy shirt tightly, his own feet feeling rather unsteady underneath him. One of Cas’ hands moves delicately on his side, soothing him the way one would a feral animal.
“How could you leave me last time Dean?” Cas whispers when he breaks the kiss. He doesn’t give Dean time to recover, just moves on to his neck. Dean can feel eyelashes against his sensitive skin.
“Because…” He chokes out, Cas’ mouth distracting and blurring his thoughts .
“Because you were going to kill me, man. And I need to stop you, you can’t just be God now-” Cas cuts him off with another kiss. This one is slightly more present, with just a hint of force.
“But how? You just left…” Cas says softly, sounding hurt. And oh, thank God (the old one), because Dean was terrified that Cas didn’t give a shit and that the whole thing had just some curiosity to keep him from growing bored. Thank God that he can at least see the old Cas, the one w to whom he was more than just a science project. The one he can trust.
“Oh. There’s this girl, she’s been traveling with me. She can do all sorts of weird things and she never says who she is.” Dean’s babbling while Cas nibbles lightly at his collar bone, keeping things as innocent as fumbling teens, but so much more sure of himself.
“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel whispers in his ear. Dean frowns.
“What… for what?” Dread rises up in his stomach, uncurling like bad food that’s just stared to take effect.
“Well, I need to know my enemies in order to destroy them.” Castiel steps away from him and then straightens his shirt where Dean‘s mussed it.
“You fucker!” The punch doesn’t catch Castiel unaware, though he turns his head politely in order to not break Dean’s hand. It does, however, give Yo the time she needs. Completely unexpectedly Yo’s hand closes around his wrist, her eyes wide and panicked. The next second, they’re tumbling haphazardly into a city fountain. Yo is breathing hard, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. She’s wheezing and leaning heavily against him, shivering hard.
“His control is getting better.” She says, when she can finally breathe again. “It took me a lot longer to find you this time. And it was harder to drag you away.”
Dean nods, his lips still trembling and swollen from the kiss. Energy is buzzing through him and he feels lighter than his body.
“Dean? You okay?” Yo asks.
“Yeah.” His voice comes out rougher than he’d expected it too. “Yeah I’m just peachy.”
~*~
When Yo meets Sam (of course, after Dean’s fretted about every possible thing that can go
wrong and finally decided that if she was going to kill them all she would have done it by now) it goes something like this:
“Wow!” She grins up at Sam and then points at his head. “You are really really tall!” Sam’s probably got a full foot on her- the top of her head barely comes up to his chin.
“I…” Sam starts confusedly. “Thanks?”
Yo grins up at him stupidly for the next few minutes and Sam idles uncomfortably. Curiously enough, Dean can’t help but notice that the girl looses any concept of personal space around his brother. It’d be kind of cute, if she wasn’t, you know, a monster.
~*~
They sleep in the car that night, pulled over to the side of the road. Or, Yo sleeps and he tries to.
Instead the feeling of Cas’ lips on his echo again and again. A light, ghostly brush. Cas’ face, close enough
that he could pick out the fine wrinkles around his eyes. The otherworldly glow about him that was so
lovely and a bit nauseating at the same time.
He doesn’t like guys. Doesn’t check out their asses in bars, doesn’t slide his fingers gently over the backs of their neck. There’s a special something he enjoys about women- the delicateness to them. They’re a break from hunting and gruffness and violence. He has to be gentle with them- careful hands, never pressing to hard. There are definitely some women who could match him blow for blow, meeting his brand of violence with their own. Equals, rather than pretty dolls. He has no doubt that getting Jo or Bella in bed would have been more than he could handle- that’s one of the reasons he never tried very hard with them. He likes his girls sweet and looking for a strong man.
He tries not to think about how he’d never have to play nice with Cas. Tries hard not to think about having someone who he wouldn’t have to be so careful with. Someone who truly knows him, knows all the depraved thoughts that push to the surface and are inextricably linked to Hell and sex. Someone who knows why he shies away from having hands around his neck or why he loves sinking his teeth the soft muscle where the neck meets the shoulder. Someone who would have to be gentle with him instead of the other way around. Castiel’s long fingers, infinitely stronger than his own. The smooth firmness of his arms, the lean slender back. Facial features that are sharp, with a bit of scruff on them rather than a cute button nose and perfectly done eyebrows.
Yo snores on in the back seat and Dean tries not to acknowledge just how much bull shit he’s attempting to swallow.
~*~
Yo sitting on the table surrounded by papers, reading a ‘How To’ on Ikebana. Sam is in the chair across from her, enthralled with his lap top.
“Blondes?” Dean asks, from where he’s sitting. His little brother rolls his eyes and Dean can see Bejeweled on the screen. Well, at least he’s not working.
“No, chrysanthemums. “ Yo fills unnecessarily. “Apparently you shouldn’t’t mix them with darker flowers. Who knew?”
“Where did you even get that?” Sam asks.
“Why? You want a copy Sammy?” Dean gives him a snarky grin that Sam responds t o with a role of his eyes.
“It’s Bobby’s.” Yo answers. Dean starts laughing in the middle of a sip of beer and nearly chokes.
“Bobby’s? Why the hell does Bobby have a book on flowers? Are there some supernatural gardening monsters out there?” He manages to ask, once he’s properly swallowed.
“No. He just likes Japan.” Yo turns a page. “You didn’t notice, with all the Japanese scrolls and the Japanese bestiaries and spell books?”
Dean shrugs.
“I don’t pry into other people’s shit.” He answers her. Yo snorts in response.
“What?” He demands.
“Maybe if you pried more, people would surprise you less. Try the Jewish mother thing, I’m sure you could pull it off.”
The easy mood in the room evaporates almost immediately. For a moment or two, the only sound is the cheesy sounds made by the Bejeweled game. Dean can tell his brother is trying really hard to say out of this, even if he wants to throw his own two cents in.
“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” The hunter demands. There’s another long pause, this one made busy by Yo marking her place in the book and climbing off the table.
“It means that, maybe, if you swallowed your macho bullshit long enough to ask Castiel how he was doing, we might not be in this situation right now.” The porch door slams behind her before he can get in a reply. Dean finishes his beer. The taste is bitter.
~*~
Halfway through their research break at Bobby’s Sam starts clutching his head and curls up into a ball. The screaming starts a few minutes later.
Dean can’t do anything but hold him and mutter soft reassurances. Later, when Sam has fallen into restless unconsciousness and Dean has dried the tears and snot off his face and hauled his enormous ass to bed, the older brother sits down and thinks. There are some things he’s been trying to avoid- Cas’ mussed hair, his slender frame. It’s easy to push those aside and just be angry. He doesn’t want to forgive Cas right now. He wants to kill him. Put some of those tricks he learned in Hell to good use. The fact that Cas already knows all his tricks with a knife will only make it more fun- that way, the angel can hold his breath, knowing just how cruel Dean can be. Right now, it’s just a pipe dream. Dean clenches his fist so hard that blood wells up in crescents on his palm. He’ll figure it out. He’ll figure it out, and then he’ll rip Cas to pieces.
~*~
Dean chooses the corner booth with a good view of the door and orders a beer and a slice of blue berry pie. Yo sits across from him in the diner, occasionally looking over her shoulder at something in the air that Dean can’t see and probably isn’t even there. He got her a beer, but she’s drinking it with a god damn straw for Christ’s sake. Freak.
“If you were a muffin…” Yo starts, and then trails off. Neither of them really feel like having a discussion right now. Yo babbles incessantly most of the time-an idea she can’t get out of her head, a point she just has to make, or sometimes just to fill the depressing silence Dean imposes.
Sam’s screams have filled far too much of the silence today. They’re still ringing in Dean’s ears. The waitress returns and Dean forces himself back into the present, back into a shitty dinner with a forty something woman and her tired eyes.
“Sorry hon. We’re out of pie.” She says. “Can I get you something else?”
“Yes!” Yo answers for him. “Cheese nachos. And salsa.”
“Ignore her.” Dean tells the waitress. He sets a handful of bills down on the table for the beer, and a few extra thrown in for the tip.
“We’re on our way out.”
The tired woman smiles at him (And why the fuck is everyone tired? It’s not fair. He and Sam live shit lives so everyone else can live good ones, but does anyone get an easy break? Just what the fuck are they saving?) and Yo slinks out of the booth, opening the door for him.
“It’s a good thing they didn’t have pie.” Yo tells him earnestly. Dean raises an eyebrow.
“You gonna go on about my health like Sammy?” He asks her. Yo shakes her head, piercing glittering in the fluorescent light.
“Nope. It’s just…” She looks computationally to her right and then her left.
“It’s just that pie is a sign of doom.” Yo confides in him.
Dean rolls his eyes, and ambles back to the Impala, a monster following at his heels like a loyal dog.
~*~
The vampires are all very young and stupid. When Dean sets the fire on the left side of the barn, the whole of them come running out the front. Three of them run so fast they take off their own heads with the razor sharp wire he’d set at neck level. Two more go down, tripped up by the bodies. Bobby takes off their heads with surprising speed for his age. Dean grins- the old man’s still got it.
The last of the freshly made leeches takes a running leap at Dean. He readies the machete but it’s unnecessary. Yo finally makes herself useful in the form of a tractor wheel being flung across the farm yard, crushing the monster. Dean has plenty of time to mosey over and take off his head.
“Still the big one inside.” Bobby informs him gruffly. Dean nods and his fingers tighten on the wooden handle. The vampires had all been young and foolish but their maker- the old thing still in the barn- had jabbered on about munching on people during the Civil War. It might be crazy, but at that old it’s still dangerous.
“It’s in the front of the barn.” Yo has slinked next to him, startling Dean. He nearly swings the machete at her out of surprise. When he’s recovered, he nearly swings it again out of annoyance.
“Don’t do that!” He snaps at her. She doesn’t look away from where she’s staring intently at the barn, eyes narrowed in concentration. It doesn’t even seem as if she’s heard him.
“It intends to drop a canister of gasoline on you both when you walk in through the front.”
She reminds him of Cas right now. Focused and completely un-phased by his typical attitude. She has a goal and intends to accomplish it.
It makes Dean scowl. He wants to stop fucking thinking about Cas.
“We should take the side door.” She states monotonously.
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.”
Bobby has caught up with them. Yo blinks once, seemingly clearing her head. Then she smiles, cheery.
“If you’re gonna call me Sherlock Holmes, I totally want a pipe, Mr. Singer.”
Bobby glares at her- he’s said about four times now that being called ‘Mr. Singer’ makes him feel old, but her only response to it has been a friendly ‘You are old, silly!’.
“Let’s just get this finished.” The older hunter states stiffly. Dean nods in agreement.
“Girls first!” Yo skips on ahead. Dean starts to follow her, but a hand on his shoulder stops him.
“You being careful?” Bobby’s tone is low and hurried.
“It’s just a vampire nest, man. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” He replies, confused. Bobby hasn’t given him any shit about the hunts he’s been taking now or the ones he took solo when Sam decided to take a stint bar tending.
“Not what I mean, idjit.” Bobby glances quickly in the direction that Yo has bounded off in then turns back to finish what he was saying.
“It’s just that you and Sparky over there seem awful friendly. I want to remind you that no good ever comes out of that. I thought you’d be a bit more cautious after Cas-”
Dean turns sharply.
“You don’t need to fucking get on my case Bobby.” He hisses. “Cause I sure as hell didn’t forget what happened. And she sure as fuck isn’t my bff, okay?”
Bobby shrugs and lets it go. Dean grits his teeth and resolves to try and hate both Yo and Cas just a little more.