Sam: (gasps out loud and jerks awake from another nightmare) Why did you let me fall asleep?
Dean: Because I’m an awesome brother. (pauses) What did you dream about?
Sam: Lollipops and candy canes –Bloody Mary
Sam stared at the cell phone sitting innocently on the bed mocking him. Gabriel was amusedly looking between the cell phone and Sam. Castiel had gone out to gather intel on where Lilith was hiding.
“You know Sam I could take a hit out on the phone.”
“Sorry, darling. You’re not my type. I prefer bottoms… and girls.”
Sam flushed and glared at Gabriel, who just smiled as innocently as he could.
“You don’t have to call him.”
“I kind of do,” said Sam with a sigh, “He has books that we need.”
“I can mojo them out.”
“Dude! No it’s Bobby. I’m not going to steal from him.”
“It’s not stealing if an angel does it.”
“Gabriel, I hate to break it to you, but I think you’re too fucked up to be considered a full angel anymore.”
Gabriel paused before nodding, “It’s true.”
“You sound way too proud of yourself.”
“I wub ‘ou, Sammy,” sang Gabriel laughing.
Sam rolled his eyes, trying to not laugh and encourage the archangel/reforming Trickster. He picked up the cell phone and turned it over in his hands a couple of times. He stared at the phone for several moments in deep contemplation.
“Sam, call the freakin’ number or have sex with the phone.”
“You’re sick,” grumbled Sam as he began to dial.
“It got your lazy ass moving didn’t it?’
“Shut up, you angelic bastard. It’s ringing.”
“Singer Salvage Yard,” said Bobby’s gruff voice.
“Hey Bobby. It’s Sam.”
“SAM?!” shouted out Bobby.
Sam winced and gulped.
“Yeah Bobby, it’s me.”
“Damn boy. You got your daddy worried about you.”
“I’ve been checking in with Dean.”
“Dean told your Dad that he hadn’t heard from you in weeks,” said Bobby.
“Bobby…,” began Sam slowly, “I can’t go back to Dad, not yet. We had this huge fight, and he told me that if I wanted to leave then I should stay gone.”
“Idijit’s boy. Your whole family…,” muttered Bobby under his breath.
“Bobby, I really need your help on something,” said Sam remembering the reason for his call.
“Sure kid. Did you and the newbies that you’re with get into trouble?”
“How do you know about them?”
“Boy, you’re daddy has been pitching a fit since Dean told him about it. Question is who doesn’t know abot you’re travel buddies. Now answer the question, you in trouble?”
The youngest Winchester sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.
“I dunno, Bobby,” murmured Sam, “We were exorcising this demon a couple weeks ago…and it started to talk.”
“Kid, you know not to believe what demons say.”
“It was talking about mom. It had a name, the name.”
Bobby quieted down almost instantly.
“It told us to look into weather patterns around the time of nursery fires. Before we finished exorcising it, it yelled out one name.”
“I found someone to verify the weather patterns and stuff, but he knows nothing about demons. So Bobby, can you look up the name Azazel for us?”
“Are you sure kid? What about your Dad?”
“I don’t want to get his hopes up. You just said it, demons lie. Besides we said things that would make it hard for us to talk to each other without breaking into a fight,” here Sam let out a sigh, “But I don’t know…you ever get the feeling like a piece of information sounds so right?”
“Yeah…Yeah I do kid. Alright I’ll look it up for you. I can get you at this number?”
“Yeah,” said Sam with a small smile, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Tell my dad to lay off the search. I’ll come back when I’m good and ready. I don’t know why Dean didn’t call him. But I think it’s because he knows that we would get nothing done if we were working together again.”
“Alright. It’s not like I’m talking to John right now.”
“We got into a fight. I won’t say what it was about. But let’s just say that if your dad shows his face on my property anytime soon. He’s getting an ass-full of buckshot.”
“Dad always was a charmer.”
Bobby snorted into the phone, “I’m glad that you called, kid.”
“Thanks for doing this Bobby.”
“Anytime, Sam, anytime.”
Sam hung up the phone.
“Scary as you thought?” asked Gabriel from his spot, “Do you want to lock yourself in the bathroom and have a good man-cry of relief?”
“Hardy-har-har,” mumbled Sam as he tossed a pillow at Gabriel’s head.
(laughing) You turn yourself into a freak. A monster. And now you’re gonna bite? I’m sorry but that is honestly adorable.-Lilith Lucifer Rising
Castiel buried his Grace, tying it as tight as he could allow himself. He could not reveal himself, until the moment was right. He peered over the newspaper as he sensed her approach. The air stank with her potent scent. It made Castiel’s Grace struggle against its bonds, wanting to lay waste to her then and there. He shoved it down further, promising it that there it would be released soon.
Castiel watched the slip of a girl, a pretty little thing really, walk the streets as the early rays of sunset colored the sky. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen; dressed in a pure, snow-white dress made of taffeta and lace, with the heels of her patent leather, white Mary Jane’s clicking on the sidewalk. Her pale blonde hair flew around her face as her long, white wool coat trailed behind her.
Castiel hid himself and became the air as he followed her. She would be what most humans would think of when they thought of angels. However, he knew what sort of sick and twisted creature inhabited her body. He knew the evil darkness that had eaten and burned the girl’s soul until there was no more, only a defiled being, only emptiness that remained. It churned his stomach and, were he a weaker angel, it would have filled him with fear.
She was a parody of innocence and light. She was the sort of evil that would trick a person with a beatific smile and kind words into her trap. Then she would stab the person in the back and let their entrails drop onto the floor.
Evil hidden by false masks are always the most dangerous and tempting to humans.
The new archangel watched her as she turned the corner; going to a home filled with rotting corpses and the stench of death. Her own brand of evil surrounded it. The trees were already dead, not merely preparing for winter and the grass wilted and browned even more as she stepped onto the property.
He could kill her right now.
But now was not the time, even though he was now an archangel. Castiel knew of remedies that would repel her evil powers, of herbs that would make it impossible for her to touch him, so he silently watched the girl hum as she skipped up the steps. Her skin was almost eerily pale in the rosy red glow of the twilight as she entered the house.
Castiel watched before disappearing, making sure that his Grace would not alert her to the fact that he’d been there.
A bell-like laughter echoed through the house as the archangel disappeared. It was an innocent sound, the kind people would hear at slumber parties and whispered secrets that would float through the hallways at any sort of school. It did not betray the evil that was going on the in the house.
A young girl, a pretty little thing, smiled, slow and sweet, with pale pink, almost blue, lips as she cut the throat of her mother. Blood splattered across the lily white slick of her face. Her milky white eyes glowed in the bloody light of twilight. She licked the blade and smiled at the little boy who was cowering in the corner.
She had no idea what sort of wrath she had brought upon herself.
Dean: I have to look out for you! That’s my Job.
Sam: What do you think my job is?
Sam: You saved my life! Over and over! Man you sacrifice everything for me! Don’t you think I would do the same for you? –All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2
Sam tipped his head back onto the headboard. Some of his hair splayed out behind him, giving a parody of a halo. Books, papers and handwritten notes lay strewn messily across his bed. The hum of the heater pierced the odd silence of the room. Gabriel had gone out to grab some dinner, because he knew that Sam needed some alone time. Castiel was elsewhere, preparing to kill Lilith.
Sam was left with his thoughts, and his research, and a tiredness that went soul deep. He couldn’t bring himself to feel rage or anger or hatred. He just wanted this over and done with. He wanted Dad and Dean safe.
More importantly, he wanted the small shack in Tahiti with Dean spreadeagled before him. He wanted passion, and happiness and the love that came from their fucked up relationship. He just needed something consistent in his life. Frighteningly, nothing seemed to be consistent except the desire to smoke the demonic bastards and stop the motherfucking Apocalypse.
A knock on the door broke the silence of the room.
Sam sat up, momentarily surprised by the sudden burst of noise. He knew that it wasn’t Gabriel, that bastard would just mojo his way in from the parking lot, and Sam was fairly certain that he had never seen Castiel use a doorin his life. Slowly he stood, grabbing his curved knife with Enochian sigils carved into the blade and easily hid it behind him.
“Who is it?” he called.
“It’s the freakin’ Easter bunny,” grumbled the voice from the other side of the door.
Sam stared the door in shock. His gut churned with emotions that he didn’t want to think about right now. This could be a dream. This could be a very cruel dream. He was going to wake up the moment that he flung the door open. And all that would be left was the sick feeling of disappointment in his stomach, heavy like lead, and something that would feel a lot like heartbreak.
Sam nervously licked his lips before reaching for the doorknob. He turned it slowly, praying with all his heart that this wasn’t a dream. That he wouldn’t wake up, alone, and sad and so motherfucking hard for Dean that it was painful.
He opened the door and stared at the sight of Dean on the other side of the threshold.
“Dean?” asked Sam, praying that his voice wouldn’t crack from repressed emotion.
Dean smiled his laziest smile. The one that had waitresses, and bartenders and anyone who came under its power fall to their knees and cater to his whims. The best part was, Sam realized with a little pang, that it reached his eyes. It was a real smile.
Sam hadn’t seen a real Dean smile in such a long time.
“Hey Sammy,” greeted Dean cheerfully. His duffel bag was by his feet, “Mind if I drop in?”
Sam, still not trusting his voice or his mental state, slowly held out the flask of holy water that he kept near the door. Dean grabbed it, spun the top open with practiced ease, and took a long drink. Sam swallowed and quickly calmed himself down.
“Of course, man,” said Sam stepping aside, “I was just about to call you anyway.”
“Yeah?” asked Dean lazily.
“Yeah, I just talked to Bobby,” said Sam easily. Dean froze, and the youngest Winchester brother continued, “So why are you lying to Dad about me?”
Dean had a sheepish grin on his face as he opened his mouth to answer. However, due to the gift of having the worse (or best) timing in the whole universe, a voice cut in.
“Ooooh! Family drama,” sang Gabriel from the doorway, “I’m so glad that I picked up the white cheddar popcorn!”
Dean stared at Gabriel.
Sam could feel his bottom right eyelid twitch.
Gabriel pretended not to notice as he shut the door and sauntered into the room, dumping the bag of Chinese food on the small table along with the car keys. The ex-Trickster and the aforementioned bag of white cheddar popcorn took up residence on the other bed with a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew on the nightstand next to him. His eyes were alight with wicked mischief, and the smile of the Trickster was on his face.
“Dean this is Gabriel,” grumbled Sam, wondering if he could kill an archangel and still get into heaven, “Gabriel this is Dean.”
“Oh so this is Dean!” exclaimed Gabriel in perfectly acted surprise and shock, “Fantastic! Lovely to meet you, Dean-o. I’m a fan of your work.”
“Huh?” said Dean looking at Sam with an expression that clearly said ‘you’ve been traveling with insane asylum escapees’.
“Sam’s told me about your prank wars! Nair in the shampoo? Brilliant!”
“Gabriel, down!” said Sam firmly as he put down his knife, “you’re scaring him.”
“I’m sure that your brother has faced things scarier than me.”
“Not while they were hopped up on candy and energy drinks, he hasn’t,” said Sam before threatening, “Don’t make me take your Mountain Dew away.”
Gabriel pouted and crossed his arms, “Aww you’re no fun, Sammy.”
“Must we have this conversation daily? You’re not my type, darling. Nothing personal, I just like people of average height.”
Sam rolled his eyes and flipped the archangel the bird with a casual air.
“So this is one of your new friends, Sammy?” asked Dean slowly as if trying to think of a coherent reason why Sam would be friends with Gabriel.
That was the same question that Sam had wondered about almost three times a day, and he still hadn’t come up with a good answer.
“So why haven’t you told Dad?”
Dean sighed and flopped down onto one of the chairs. He glanced at his brother casually.
“Because you were right.”
Sam stared at Dean before intelligibly saying, “Huh?”
“I said that you were right. If Dad forced you to come back, then you would be miserable. I would be miserable. Dad would be paranoid and have trust issues.”
“More than normal,” amended Dean quickly, “I figure that you’re eighteen. Most of the time you do have a general idea what the fuck to do; plus I knew that you would call me if you were in over your head.”
Sam smiled a little bit, “Thanks, man.”
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair. This was getting too chick-flick like for his taste.
“So looks like you found a hunt,” said Dean by way of changing the subject. He stood and walked over to Sam’s research strewn bed.
“Oh he’s found something bigger than a hunt,” said Gabriel lightly, ready to churn up trouble.
Dean shot a confused look to Sam, who rubbed the back of his neck after throwing a bitchface at the archangel. Sam swallowed thickly before saying.
“I think that I may have found the thing that killed Mom.”
Dean’s face turned ashen, and he reeled backwards. (fell heavily to the floor in a sitting position.) I honestly don’t think that Dean would fall to the floor in shock.
“Shit, Sammy. What the hell have you gotten into?” whispered Dean.
No, no, no,no…Mr. Trickster does not like pretty angel boys.-NutCracker Host Changing Channels
Castiel slowly stripped to his boxers and stepped into the old washtub.
“Hey Cas…,” began Gabriel as he walked in. He then saw his brother’s state of clothed-ness and clapped a hand over his eyes, “Oh Dad! That’s something I never needed to see.”
“Hello Gabriel,” said Castiel calmly.
“Why are you half naked?” asked Gabriel.
“I am preparing to go kill the demon Lilith.”
“What does this have to do with you being almost naked?”
Castiel did something very close to huffing and fixed his stare onto Gabriel, “I am using various holy oils and herbs used to repel her evil, in order for her powers to have a less significant impact on me. So I am rubbing them into my skin and since I only have one change of clothing. I would rather it not to be oily.”
“But you don’t care if you’re boxers are oily.”
“Brother, I am in a wash tub in the middle of an abandoned house in small town America. If someone happened to stumble upon me then I would rather to be partially clothed than naked. Now pass me the oil of Abramelin and uncover your eyes. This is not the most awkward position we have seen the other in.”
“You coming in during my having sex just proves you need to learn about doors,” grumbled Gabriel but he did as his younger brother asked.
Castiel poured the oil into a small basin and mixed it with the caraway herb. Gabriel perched, watching his younger brother work everything into a paste.
“So Dean showed up,” said Gabriel by way of a conversation starter. He suppressed a grin as Castiel fumbled with the bowl.
“Yeeeeep,” drawled out the archangel as he cracked his knuckles.
“So after I lay waste to Lilith then Sam will want to go after Azazel,” stated Castiel as he rubbed the paste into his skin.
“How did you leave the room without Dean noticing?”
“I’m using one of my doppelganger techniques,” said Gabriel with a small smile. He turned serious suddenly. His concern for his youngest brother was clearly shown on his face, “You sure you’re ready for this?”
“Thank you for your worry, Gabriel, but I will be fine. I promise.”
“Alright, little bro,” Gabriel paused, “If you say so.”
“I do,” said Castiel as he finished working the paste into his skin, “I appreciate your concern.”
“Yeah well I’m just happy to have a brother on an equal level that’s not a complete asshole.”
Castiel’s lips twitched up into a small smile. He waved his hands, and his clothing reappeared on his body.
“Good luck Castiel.”
“Thank you, Gabriel,” said Castiel with a small smile, “I am going to go shank the bitch, now.”
Gabriel’s loud, surprised laughter followed Castiel as he disappeared in a flurry of wings.
Ruby: I want Lilith dead.
Ruby: I told you why.
Dean: Oh right, because you were human once, and you liked kittens, and long walks on the beach!
Ruby: You know, I am so sick of proving myself to you! You want to save yourself, this is how, you dumb spineless dick! (is punched by Dean) –No Rest For The Wicked
She was still dressed in white when Castiel found her again. It was a dress that went to her mid-calf made of purest white satin and lace. She wore a pair of white high heels outlined in rhinestones. They were probably her vessel’s first pair ever. She was still wearing the white wool coat. Castiel dropped the power that kept him hidden. His Grace was loosely bound, ready for him to call at a moment’s notice.
It was best to let her think that he was an ordinary hunter for now.
He walked into the church. The priest that lived there was dead, killed by her pretty, pale hands and her false words. He silently asked his Father for strength and guidance for the fight that was about to take place.
He sat in the pew across from her.
She turned staring at him with unblinking eyes.
“Demon,” murmured Castiel softly.
Suddenly, she smiled and laughed as clear as bell and innocent as a bird’s song.
“A hunter,” she sounded as delighted as a child on Christmas morning, “Oh, it’s been too, too long since I had fun like this.”
She stood and smiled, “So you know that I am a demon.”
He nodded carefully, “I know that you killed the girl’s family.”
“Oh yes,” said Lilith enthusiastically, “That was a lot of fun too! She screamed so very prettily as I killed the family that she thought she wanted dead. Of course she was long gone after I got to Mommy. Baby brother was the sweetest kill. He watched it all happen. He cried so hard.”
Castiel stood and began to murmur an exorcism. Lilith laughed again and with a flick had Castiel pinned against the wall. The new archangel allowed her to think that she had the upper hand.
“Oh really, hunter, do you think that could harm me? No mere mortal can.”
She went to caress his face before pulling her hand away quickly. It was smoking, and she grimaced.
“Caraway plant,” hissed Lilith as she blew the smoke away, “Someone did his research.”
Castiel smiled, “All the sweeter when I kill you.”
Lilith laughed again mockingly, “You really think that you can kill me? You’re human. A disgusting speck of dust that I will enjoy ripping to shreds.”
“I am not human,” said Castiel letting a little of his hidden Grace slip through.
“Angel,” spat out Lilith sneering, “What? Is this for extra credit? Trying to get on your Daddy’s good side?”
“He’s your master’s Father as well.”
“Awww that’s sweet. Are you going to save me?”
“No. You are beyond saving.”
“Misguided, featherbrained fools like you have come before. And I have ripped out their Grace and stripped their vessels of their flesh. What makes you think that you can defeat me?”
“Simple,” said Castiel, “I have more power than you can ever dream of.”
Lilith backed away her eyes the purest white. She trembled as if truly afraid whispering one word.
Castiel smiled and unfurled all six hundred of his wings. He could feel her struggle to get out of the body of the girl. However, the sigils he had drawn in his blood, mixed with the caraway seeds, kept her locked in nice and tight. She ran forward to claw at him, growling like a caged animal.
Castiel sidestepped out of her way.
“I have not heard of you, archangel,” growled Lilith. Her true voice bled into the dulcet tones of the young girl, and it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, mixed with the squelching sound mud makes when someone treks through it, “You are not Michael. His true vessel is unknowing. My master is still locked in his jail. No one has heard from Gabriel in millennia. Raphael rarely leaves his perch in heaven.”
“I am new. Recently promoted by will of my Father,” said Castiel allowing his true voice to mix in as well. It was like rough waves crashing down heavily on rocks and the sound of storms brewing, “You have committed many egregious acts against humanity, Lilith. I cannot allow you to live.”
His Grace unbound a little more, spiraling out of his vessel. Lilith howled in the holy light as she was bathed in it. Castiel brandished the knife as his vessel’s hair, filled with the light of his Grace, flew around him. A ring of bluish white light crowned his head. His eyes were slowly overtaken until they had become pure blue orbs, the color of the Caribbean Sea.
Lilith screeched and tried to run away from the light of him.
However, Castiel was quicker and surrounded by both the glory of his Father and his own Grace. A sudden shower of rain began to pound outside echoing through the church.
It was the sound of cleansing.
Lilith threw some of her kinetic energy at Castiel, who briefly sidestepped it. He merely walked toward her. The sound of his pristine dress shoes echoed throughout the church, mixing with the sound of the rain.
She growled and bared her teeth. The girl’s hair fell around her face, almost blue in the not quite light of the church.
“I will not fall to you, archangel!”
Castiel tilted his head.
“It is too late,” murmured Castiel. His voice rumbled in time with the crash of thunder outside.
She was on top of the altar now, crouched in a position reminiscent of a feral animal. Castiel stepped before the altar and felt the power of his Father burn through his body. He waved his hand, pinning Lilith down. She screamed and spat and cursed his Father.
Quietly and methodically he leaned and pressed a kiss to her forehead, silencing her screams and rants He then he gently raised the knife, apologized to the young girl and finally slit her throat.
As the blood trickled out, he pulled out a silver urn that had been blessed by two archangels. It had the Devil’s Trap drawn on every side of it along with other Enochian sigils. Lilith’s blood was what harkened the Apocalypse. So they were going to keep it under lock and key, just to be safe.
Castiel watched as Lilith’s eyes and mouth became white and bowed his head. She was gone from this plane. He gently stroked the cheek of Lilith’s vessel, her neck slit and drained dry of blood and gently closed her blue-grey eyes and put her pale hands across her chest.
With a gust of wind, he was gone.
The rain still pounded on the roof of the church as the storm continued.
On the altar, there lay a slip of a girl. She was a pretty little thing really. Her skin was bluish white and her pale blonde hair fell around her head and off the ends of the altar like a halo. She was dressed in a white dress made of satin and lace. Her white wool coat was stretched behind her like angel’s wings. In the lightening lit up the rhinestones of her white, high heels (her first pair).
Her hands were crossed over her chest.
She was a pretty little thing, what people thought of when they would think of angels.
And she had been the vessel to the key that humanity could only dare to imagine.
Her face was at peace.
Pretty little thing.
Real Estate Agent: Let me just say. We accept home owners of any race, religion, color, or…sexual orientation.
Dean: Right. Um, I’m going to go talk to Larry. Okay, honey? (smacks Sam on the ass as he walks away) –Bugs
Dean really wasn’t sure of what to make of these people that Sam had decided to travel with. He had been hanging around their crappy motel room for a week, waiting for Bobby to call Sam back with information on the thing that Sam believed had killed their mom.
So he watched and got into the rhythm.
Gabriel was bat-shit insane. A possible escapee from a mental asylum was all that Dean could come up. Still he liked him. He had a wicked sense of humor, wickeder sweet tooth, and a penchant for life and fun that made Dean feel like he had been living as a nun these past twenty-two (almost twenty-three) years.
And coming from Dean that was saying something.
Still he liked Gabriel, even though his instincts were screaming at him that there wasn’t something quite right about the man.
Castiel, well Dean knew instantly that there was something not quite right about him. However, there was something about the nerdy guy that dressed like his tax accountant that got to Dean. It was an easy familiarity that both surprised and frightened Dean. It felt like he’d known him before somewhere that he couldn’t place.
Castiel tilted his head, stared at him long and hard before saying that he just had one of those faces.
Seriously though, did he ever blink? It was freaking Dean out.
Then there was Sammy.
He was suddenly familiar and different to Dean at the same time.
The eldest Winchester brother had no idea what had happened over these past couple months.
But whatever it was had been kind to Sammy, and it had added a whole new batch of pictures for when Dean wanted to whack one off. He was still Dean’s goofy little brother, but he was this new person at the same time. This person who would wake up screaming at four in the morning due to nightmares and visions that he wouldn’t tell Dean about. Dean, who was sharing Sam’s bed, would roll over and toss his arm across his younger brother’s bare chest and try not to think about how much enjoyment he was getting out of it.
Especially when he would wake up to Sam’s breath ghosting against his shoulders, somehow switching their positions as they slept with Dean ending up as the little spoon.
And fuck no. He may take it up the ass, but Dean Winchester was so not the little fucking spoon. He elbowed Sam in the solar plexus to get him moving.
“Dude, go and brush your teeth. You have fucking morning breath.”
Sam stuck out his tongue before sleepily rolling out of bed and wandering into the bathroom.
“So how long have you like-liked Sammy?” asked Gabriel from his spot on his own bed. Castiel looked up from his reading to stare at his brother.
“What?” said Dean (in what was definitely not a squeak. His voice just went up when he was caught off guard. It was not a fucking squeak).
“Gabriel is asking if you want to have intercourse with Sam.”
“No I’m not, Cas! I’m asking if he likes Sam like that.”
“Sam is in the bathroom,” groaned out Dean covering his face with his hand.
“Sam is dead to the world first thing in the morning. He’s probably asleep in the tub.”
Dean hated to admit that they were probably right.
“You seem to be taking my probable incestuous feelings with my brother pretty well.”
Gabriel shrugged, “Everyone’s fucked up. Believe me, this is not the oddest situation that I have seen -- or even been in.”
“Our family is a little unorthodox as well,” stated Castiel stoically from his spot.
“So answer the question, Dean-o.”
Dean sighed and felt like a thirteen year old girl, “Yes okay? Why do you want to fucking know anyway?”
Gabriel grinned, “Well did you know that when Sam’s had one too many he’s a very open person?”
“What?” asked Dean.
Gabriel grinned. His eyes were bright and laughing, “Dean, Sam has feelings for you too.”
Dean stared blankly at the wall before letting out a burst of hysterical and relieved laughter. He rubbed a hand over his face.
Castiel and Gabriel slyly gave each other an excited thumbs-up.
Dean, however, felt relieved and happy at the same time. Sammy had these feelings too.
Maybe this was the one thing that he could allow himself to have.
Dean: I just talked to an eighty four year old grandmother who’s been having phone sex with her husband…who died in Korea.
Sam: Ugh (looks disgusted)
Dean: Completely rocked my understanding of the word necrophilia. –Long Distance Call
It wasn’t that hard to bribe Gabriel and Castiel to vacate the motel room for a couple of hours. Because when Dean Winchester found out that he could have something that he wanted, he would almost always jump on it with the enthusiasm of several hundred Brad Pitt fan-girls.
Little did he know that ‘Team Wincest’ (a.k.a. Castiel and Gabriel) had set some herbs to stimulate sexual urges and feelings of love; while this wouldn’t force love onto the subjects, it would break down walls enough for their feelings to be free flowing.
Dean went out and bought pizza and beer before returning back to the motel room.
Sam was perched on the bed again; doing more research.
“Hey Sammy,” said Dean to get his brother’s attention, “Take the night off and have some dinner with me.”
Sam looked at his work before smiling and closing the laptop, “I think I can do that.”
Dean smiled and turned on some crap sci-fi movie. Sam grabbed a slice of pizza and bitched about the little green peppers that Dean knew he secretly loved and refused to admit it. They sat close together on the bed, alternating between eating the pizza and laughing at the cheesy effects of the movie.
“Dude I just saw the guy’s foot!”
“Shut up; you did not!”
“Did so!” said Sammy childishly; there was a light in his eyes and an easy grin on his face.
“Did not, Gigantor.”
“You’re just jealous that you’re a shrimp.”
“Oh it’s on now, bitch.”
With that Dean tackled him and wrestled Sam to the ground. They laughed, mock-wrestling for what felt like the first time in ages. Dean flailed about as Sam tried to get him in a headlock. They fought on, kicking empty beer bottles around as greasy paper plates fluttered about in the air.
It felt so good to have his Sammy so close that Dean could hear his light breathy laughs. It filled up a long forgotten ache in his chest a little bit. Repressed emotions bubbled to the surface as Sam was able to pin him to the bed.
“Looks like I won,” said Sam with a triumphant grin on his face.
“Yeah looks like you did, Sammy,” said Dean staring into Sam’s catlike hazel eyes.
They didn’t break the position.
“I’m going to do something stupid, Sammy,” said Dean slowly, “And if you don’t want me to do it again, then just say so, and we’ll forget it ever happened.”
Sam stared at him as a slow smile spread across his face, revealing his deep dimples.
“Alright,” whispered Sam, like he almost couldn’t believe what he thought was about to happen.
Dean slowly moved up as Sam dipped down. Their lips met in a kiss.
Dean could see stars. His blood was electricity racing and roaring through his veins. He knew that this was right, that it felt right, that it was better than anything he could imagine.
It felt like home.
They reluctantly pulled apart.
Sammy, from his place above Dean, grinned brilliantly. Dean couldn’t help but smile back.
“Can we do that again?” whispered Sam slowly. His hands were still pinning Dean’s wrists down, and he was straddled over Dean’s hips.
“Fuck yeah,” said Dean as they kissed again.
Just for a brief moment, everything was absolute bliss in the lives of Sam and Dean Winchester.