This is what happens when I get all mushy and broody.
Or listen to the entire Moulin Rouge soundtrack and think of everyone's favourite Angel of the Lord as a cancan dancer. Though, it's very loosely based on the movie. Like, very loosely.
Disclaimer (the only): Eric Kripke and the CW Network have all the rights to Supernatural. Baz Lurhmann owns Moulin Rouge. All songs used belong to their proper artists and labels.
"There was a boy; a very strange enchanted boy. They say he wandered very far; very far, over land and sea. A little shy and sad of eye, but very wise was he. And then one day, one magic day, he passed my way. And while we spoke of many things- fools and kings- this he said to me: 'the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return…'"
Dean crinkled his nose as he opened the door to his beloved Impala, only to hear the song blaring. "Really? I leave you two alone with my baby for five minutes, and you turn her into this?"
Sam and Adam quickly pointed at each other with the automatic response of "He did it!"
"What? No way!" Adam protested, leaning between the front seats from his spot in the back. "Bowie sucks."
"Glad to see I'm not the only one with taste." Dean muttered as he settled behind the wheel, popping the cassette out of the player and tossing out the window. "Sammy never caught on to the awesomeness of the Zeppelin."
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
"So where are we going anyway?" Adam asked, interrupting the good natured arguing that was happening.
Dean just smirked, pressing down on the accelerator and cruising down the stretch of road. "You'll see, boys. You'll see."
The Roadhouse.
Night club; dance hall. Owned by Ellen Harvelle, where the wandering and the lost went to play with the beautiful creatures of the night. But it was one- a man they called Angel of Thursday- that drew both men and women back night after night. A courtesan, whose love was for the highest bidder.
His name was Castiel Novak, and he was the star of the Roadhouse.
"I thought Dad warned us about this place."
Dean clenched his teeth, his grip turning deadly on the wheel. He remembered that conversation all too well- seeing as it was how he got himself disowned- but all he wanted was away from the family business; to be more than a mechanic like Adam, or constantly compared to Sam in Stanford. Sure, he had the brains if he tried, and he could rebuild his baby from next to nothing, but it wasn't his dream.
'You're going to end up wastin' your life with some whore. Lust, greed, sin. Is that really what you want for yourself?'
"Dean?"
"No, Sam, not us. Me. Because you're going to be a lawyer, and Adam is the picture-perfect son, and I… want to be someone else."
Adam leaned forward, elbows rested on the seats. "Hey, I'm only trying to be like him because he'll never love me the same way he loves you guys. I'm not Mary's son; he resents that."
The car went silent, with Dean staring out the windshield and Sam looking out his own window.
The youngest man shifted backwards and folded his hands together before he broke the tense silence. "I just want to feel wanted."
"Well, you do have two older brothers that are bringing you with us." Sam pointed out. "Blood is blood; your last name might not formally be Winchester, but trust me, you are our brother."
"Ditto."
"Thanks."
"Alright, so we're done with the chick flick moment? Because I'm pretty sure our cycles are going to sync up soon."
The Impala was no longer tense as it rolled into Bellevue, the Roadhouse waiting for the trio on the other side of town.