Hell has Frozen Over
Disclaimer: I am not Eric Kripke. Which sucks, because it means I do not own SPN and its awesomeness. Excuse me while I go drown my sorrows in pie.
Summary: Sam backed away as slowly and quietly as possible. If it hadn't already done so – hell was definitely freezing over now.
Hey guys! This is yet another one-shot for the HFO series! (Heh. I like the sound of that)
There are a couple of things I wanna say. Cass is human because I liked him that way (even though I totally love his Angel-ness too) and this occurs a while after my other story "The Next Day Hell Froze Over" took place.
There are spoilers for season five but ignore Swan Song ever happened. (Instead the apocalypse was avoided in a way that left Sam and Dean together and whole :D) I love Supernatural to Death, and I loved the creative ending (although I'll admit they rushed it a little too much) they made for the season finale – but it simply left me heartbroken for Dean and he needs some lovin' and I need some cheering up! Now that that's out of the way
Enjoy!
"Come on, Dean. You've been in a sour mood all week. Tell me what's wrong."
Sam was giving his brother an overly concerned look, to which Dean responded with an eye-roll.
"And you can't tell me there's nothing wrong, Dean, because there is. I can tell."
Instead of giving a response, the older Winchester plopped down on the thin hotel mattress.
"You know what, Dean? Fine, don't talk. Just stay here and pout all you want. I'm going for a walk."
Dean barely glanced at his brother before giving a weak shrug. He reached for the remote and turned on the motel's small and dusty television. As Dr. Sexy's opening credits filled the painful silence in the room, Sam looked frustrated at his older brother's lack of response. He stood, despite himself, for a little while longer before ultimately running out of patience and leaving the shabby motel room with a huff.
The barely audible click of the door closing somehow resonated throughout the room and promptly unnerved the elder Winchester. Even so, he refused to cast even a mere glance at the direction his sibling exited from. His eyes remained glued to the television screen, watching the program and yet not watching it at the same time. Seconds passed, though it very well could have been minutes or even hours, when another intruding click bounced off the walls. It was only Dean's hunter instincts that caused him to look. The moment he turned his head, his eyes met striking blue ones that seemed to carry a universe full of wisdom. Dean looked away as if not wanting to be caught in their depth.
"Hey, Cass. Didn't even hear you come in until you closed the door. You sure you don't have any mojo left in you?" Dean's gruff voice overpowered the clichéd lines of one of Dr. Sexy's nurse flings. With silent footfalls that'd make any sniper jealous, Castiel walked over to the hunter and plopped down next to him on the hotel bed. Dean felt the bed dip but paid no attention to the other man's closeness. He'd given up teaching personal space to the blue-eyed man a long time ago.
"I am still as human as you." Castiel replied, his gravelly voice holding a melancholy undertone. It was barely there but Dean caught it, and it made chest hurt with guilt. Cass was nothing but helpful to the Winchester brothers and all it got him was kicked out of home.
I gave everything for you!
The memory of those words made him feel even more guilty.
And this is what you give to me?
A nudge of Castiel's knee on Dean's breaks Dean out of his reverie. He mentally thanks the former-angel for it. He's had enough of angsty thoughts these days. Before Dean could ask, Castiel laid a brown bag on his lap. Dean blinked at it and proceeded to look inside.
"What's…?" Dean begins to ask, but then a ghost of a smile graces his lips.
It's a whole apple pie, minus a slice.
Dean looked at the man that slowly became a brother to him.
"I apologize," Castiel says regarding the place where the missing slice should have been, "I could not help myself."
This time Dean chuckles. It's a weak one but it surprised the hell out of him.
"It's fine Cass, thanks." The Winchester sees the former angel's slight smile – and it warms his heart to finally see more positive emotions out of him – an upside to the whole turning human thing.
But then the sight makes him frown. The hunter's eyes scan Cass' face and the slight beard that had been forming on it. It reminded him of when that dick Zach sent him into the future and he'd come face-to-face with that drugged up, orgy and prostitute (because that's the only word that comes to mind when he thinks of those women) loving, gave-up-on-hope state that Castiel had been reduced to. The memory made Dean shudder.
He'd be damned if he'd let Cass become that way.
"You really need to shave," he said, glaring at the hair on the former-angels face as if he were trying to scare it off.
Castiel tilted his head to the side, like he always did when he was confused. Dean rolled his eyes.
"Remind me to show you later."
"Okay."
They had fallen into a comfortable silence, which quickly became an awkward silence as soon as Dean realized that Castiel had been staring intently at him the whole time.
"Uh…Cass? You got something to say to me?"
"There is something bothering you," it wasn't a question. At least that's the way it sounded when Castiel said it.
Dean snorted. "Yeah. You're lookin' at me like I owe you money or something."
"I wasn't talking about that," and there goes the head tilt again.
"Then what the hell are you talking about?" Dean practically launched out of his sitting position and proceeded to pace, "What is it you think that's bothering me?"
When Castiel didn't answer, Dean spun around to glare at him. The ex-angel was staring at the discarded pie.
Damn it all, he looked like a kicked puppy.
"Well?" Dean growled, not letting the look on his friend's face dissipate his anger. Castiel swiftly looked him straight in his green eyes.
"There was nothing you could do for the little girl, Dean."
And didn't that just feel like a punch in the gut?
Dean's expression immediately became blank, his emotions quickly masked. He let out a humorless snort.
Several days ago, the three of them had been on a hunt. There was some supernatural activity going on in a small town in Pennsylvania. Turned out there was a demon possessing a six year old girl that was causing all the deaths and mayhem. But of course the boys didn't find out until it was too late. The little girl was advancing on Sam – getting ready to tear him into shreds and Dean jumped in to save his little (well, younger cause' God knows he's not little any more) brother. He plunged Ruby's demon-killing knife deep into the heart of the demon and twisted before yanking it out.
This normally wouldn't have been a problem – but the way the face of the little girl's contorted in pain made Dean's skin crawl. Her hazel eyes widened and she looked… scared. There was an authentic innocence there - no demon could make that up. He couldn't help but have flashbacks of a little Sammy, freshly woken up from a nightmare he'd just had – where Dean would come in and lull him back to a comfortable sleep.
"That's what you thinks' bothering me? Come on Cass, that was last week – I got over it," he lied through his teeth.
"I know that's what's bothering you, Dean. You can't lie to me. She was dead way before we got there. The thing you killed was a demon, not a human."
"Oh and how can you be so certain, huh, Cass? You fell! You're not an angel anymore so you can't fuckin' know for sure!"
Castiel was up and out of his seat. His back ramrod straight as he stepped into Dean's space like he'd done so many times before. Dean's face slightly lost color, though not from the menacing look on the former-angel's face. Dean really started to hate himself for that comment.
Way to go Dean. The guy breaks you outta hell, turns on his family for you, dies for you and that's what you say to him?
He didn't really mean it. He was angry, but not at Cass. Hell, he couldn't really stay angry at the guy for very long.
Must be those damn puppy eyes.
Or the fact that he saved Dean's ass a few times.
Either works.
"Cass… I'm – I didn't–"
"Dean Winchester," Castiel interrupted, looking up at the hunter with fierce eyes that struck a certain fear in his heart (because although he's shorter than Dean, he could still be a dangerous fucker), "I may not be an angel anymore but I know a demon when I see one. Two thousand years of practice is a hard thing to forget. So yes, Dean Winchester, I am sure it was a demon and not an innocent child."
"Okay," Dean gulped, "I'm sorry I was being a dick. It's just…"
"I know," the former-angel's eyes had softened, and Dean knew he was instantly forgiven.
Dean offered the smaller man a slight upturn of the right corner of his lips. He would have dished out a little quip to lighten the mood. He would have. He really would – but he forgot whatever it was he was going to say due to Castiel's actions.
"Um, Cass. What the fuck?"
The slender man held the bigger man in a firm embrace. If someone from the outside were looking in they'd see that Dean was bent over ever so slightly due to the height difference. To preserve his masculinity, Dean tried his damn hardest to push away. However, the ex-angel had an iron grip.
How the hell can he still be so damn strong?
"Cass. Let. Me. Go."
"No Dean. I am trying to make you feel better," the gravelly voice vibrated against the bigger hunter's ear.
"I don't have a vagina, Cass. This is only weirding me the fuck out!" Dean was still trying to pull back, but with no avail.
"This made the Cupid feel better. I think it will do the same for you."
Cupid? What the – oh… right… the Cupid.
That stupid pansy sonofabitch.
"Again. I don't have a vagina, and I'm not a stupid pansy dick with wings."
He didn't like being even slightly compared to the Cupid, who unwisely started talking about his deceased parents. And speaking of family, he disliked even more the idea of having Sammy suddenly walk in and see this chick-flick scene.
"I will not let go until you let go of your grief."
Dean grumbled and clenched his jaw. To be honest, it felt kind of nice – not that he'd ever admit it openly. The grumble gradually changed into a sigh as he softly swung his burly arms over his adopted brother's lean frame. The former angel was radiating warmth – it gave doubts to the Winchester about Cass' mortality.
But then again, they wouldn't be in this situation if Cass still had his mojo. Because as an angel, sentimentality was non-existent within Castiel.
None of that mattered, really, because where ever the warmth came from, it brought an undersized smile on Dean's face. His slack embrace became tighter. And, of course, that's the exact moment the younger Winchester decided to come in.
"Okay, Dean I don't care if you don't wanna talk but we're gonna do it any– uh…" Sam cleared his throat, "Um…wow."
Sam backed away as slowly and quietly as possible. If it hadn't already done so – hell was definitely freezing over now. Winchesters seldom embraced. On the off chances they did… hug …it meant either; A) someone close was dead or dying. Or B) someone close has came back from the dead.
Or something along those lines.
And also it seemed like Castiel was hugging back. The dude had no sense of sentimentality what-so-ever. Then Castiel, acting as if nothing had happened, at a sloth-like pace slid his arms free from the embrace. When Dean mirrored his actions he beamed his electric blue gaze in the elder Winchester's eyes.
Are you okay?
Dean's response was a shit eating grin that triggered a small smile on Castiel's own face. The bright grin was then turned on the mildly disturbed younger Winchester.
"Hey Sammy, why don't you get in and close the door before all the mosquitoes get in."
"Right…" Sam did just that and sat stiffly on the bed he claimed earlier after winning a rock-paper scissors match. "So, um…"
"Yeah, sorry about earlier. I was in a bad mood. I feel better though."
Castiel didn't need his angel mojo to feel the last part being directed at him. He practically glowed with delight as he drank a cold one he fetched from the small fridge.
"Alright Sammy, I'm gonna hit the sack if it's alright with you." Dean said stripping of his shirt to get comfortable.
"It's cool. I was thinking the same thing…" Sam blinked; he needed some sleep because what he saw was probably a figment of his suddenly sappy imagination that occurred from lack of sleep. Then Dean had to open his mouth and say something that really made Sam question his sanity.
"You too, Cass. I don't want you passing out again from lack of sleep," Dean patted his bed, "You can share my bed so that you don't have to sleep on the floor."
It was a two-king room and the boys played rock, paper, scissors to decide sleeping arrangements. Sam won first, then Dean (only because Castiel had let him win, but don't tell that to Dean – it'll hurt his feelings).
As Sam is slipping into a slumber, he wonders if Lucifer and his fellow demons are slipping on ice down there in the pit.
~SPN~
"Cass, hold the fuck still."
"I do not feel comfortable, Dean."
"Consider this payback then. Hold still, I need to do this."
Sam's eyes snapped open, and the sun's rays invaded his light sensitive eyes. Ignoring the stabbing pain, his head jerked to the bed next to him and oh thank God there are no… activities going on there. In fact the bed was empty and neatly done.
Which makes Sam glad because Cass was his younger brother now (even though he was much older…but whatever) and it was his responsibility to shield him from corruption – even if Dean was the one doing the corrupting.
"Dean, that looks fairly dangerous."
"It can be if you don't do it the right way. Hold still so I don't hurt you."
It came into realization that the voices were coming from the bathroom. So Sam made his abnormally gigantic body rise from the semi-comfort of the motel bed – because, really, how comfortable could a motel bed be – and silently made his way to the outskirts of the bathroom. He didn't call this sneaking – even though that's exactly what it was – he told himself he was checking up on his oh-so favorite brothers out of concern (which wasn't completely a lie either). Dean was tilting Castiel's chin slightly upwards, which made Sam narrow his eyes. Then he saw Dean run a razor upwards from the base of Cass' formerly hair-covered throat. Sam suddenly noticed the shaving cream that was on the ex-angel's face.
"And that's how you shave. Now you try."
Dean handed Castiel the razor, and Sam wondered why he was so paranoid all the time.
Strange lives…
Sam would wonder if hell was having a snow day, but frankly, it was too early in the goddamn morning to care about hell right now. So Sam did the only rational thing he could do;
Go back under the covers and just except the fact that he lived with a bunch of weirdoes.
End.
(Please don't throw rocks at me... I just had to... XD)
Now about Cass' nick name… I usually spell it C-A-S, but I've recently purchased the SPN novels and they spelled is C-A-S-S… which well…bothered me but…. Tell me what you think about it. :D
Anyways, so do…
You like? You hate? You love?
Review because it'll make me happy and Cass AND Dean will give you a huggg… ;)