Prologue
Dean Winchester met the love of his life when he was sixteen years old.
He'd snuck out of his mom's house to go to a party that he'd never get permission for in a million years. He tip-toed out of his bedroom and to the front door, crept across the porch, and rolled the late John Winchester's Chevy Impala to three blocks away before starting her up. It went smoothly. He made it to the party, had three beers in quick succession – his first beers ever, he might add - and wound up puking up his guts in the bathroom not long after.
And then, as if the night couldn't get any worse, that was when Mary showed up. He heard her barge in the front door yelling his name and threatening to call the cops. Dean knew he was fucked – though in fact, he was a little grateful – and resigned himself being found, hunched over the toilet and shaking, and dragged home by his ear.
At least it would be over soon.
But, just as he was about to get it over with and call back, a boy with dark hair and shocking blue eyes snuck into the bathroom to hide. He wore a faded ACDC t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and had his hair spiked up in a way made Dean want to run his fingers through it.
The boy jumped a little upon seeing Dean. ‟Oh,″ he said. ‟Hey, uh... you okay?″
Dean could only shake his head miserably. Then he winced as Mary called out for him yet again.
The boy with the sex hair narrowed his eyes, and then smirked. ‟I'm guessing you're Dean Allen Winchester? Dude, your mom is pissed.″
Dean groaned. ‟I'm dead.″
The boy's eyes softened in compassion, but then lit up with determination. ‟Come on,″ he said, grabbing Dean's arm and pulling him up. He dragged him to the window – the second story window – and began to pry it open.
‟What are you crazy?″ Dean asked. ‟I should just let her catch me, and minimize the punishment as much as possible.″
‟Live a little, Winchester,″ he said, stopping with one leg out of the window and onto the roof overhanging the front porch. ‟You can't just wait on the ledge forever, sometimes you just have to jump.″ He then climbed the rest of the way out. When Dean wasn't forthcoming, he stuck his head back inside and held out a hand.
‟You are crazy,″ Dean stated.
The boy groaned in exasperation and lunged for Dean's hand, hauling him through the window. They crept to the edge of the overhang above the porch and climbed down the support pedestal, landing softly on the grass.
‟Did you drive?″ the boy whispered.
‟Yeah, the black Impala over there.″
‟Keys,″ he demanded, holding out his hand.
‟What?″
‟Keys!″
Dean fished them out of his pocket and handed them over. The boy retook Dean's hand and led him to the car, and they climbed in.
‟Wait!″ Dean exclaimed from the passenger seat, still a little in shock of what just happened. ‟I don't even know your name.″
‟Cas,″ he said, turning over the engine.
Mary must have been listening for the car, because not two seconds later she burst out the front door, Dean's snotty little brother Sam hot on her heels.
Cas gunned the engine forcefully, leaving his mother to scream herself hoarse in their wake. They barely heard it over their exhilarated laughter.
Now, Dean wouldn't lie and say that it was love at first sight. They had setbacks, they had fights. They broke up, and Dean moved hundreds of miles away. But time tells the best tales.
Years later, they were living in Cas' hometown. Dean owned a diner/market, and Cas was a nurse. They were finally happy. And they were just about due for a little more.
Even in the Darkest of Times
Chapter One – And Then My Soul Saw You
‟All I'm saying is,″ states Charlie Bradbury as she chops onions at the prep table, tears streaming down her face, ‟If you don't think Kirk and Spock were in love, then I don't think we can be friends anymore.″
Dean rolls his eyes and throws her a towel. ‟I can't take you seriously with your big onion-induced crocodile tears. And they were just friends. Weirdly close, co-dependent, platonic friends who weren't afraid to get into an extremely homoerotic tussle for Spock's honor in front of his entire family.″
‟Whatever, boss man,″ Charlie says. She wipes her face. ‟So, anyway. Speaking of wildly epic, inter-species, gay love that spans space time and alternate realities... you and Cas ever gonna get married. I mean, I know legalization in Oklahoma was pretty low key, but it happened, and I think it's about time you guys tied the knot.″
‟Inter-species?″
‟Yeah. He's really nice, and a nurse, so he likes to help people. And you, your hair's green, you're covered in tats and you're wearing eyeliner. You're practically the spawn of Satan himself.″
‟Yeah, don't let my mother hear you say that.″
Charlie lets out a guffaw and disappears into the kitchen. Dean turns as he hears the bell above the door chime. A young girl, pale skin, brunette hair, ten or eleven years old, walks in and goes immediately for the little box of books in the market side of Dean's Market and Grill, and she shuffles through them. The sign above the books says ‟Free Books – Donations Accepted.″ It was Cas' idea, and it actually works quite well. People would take a book home, and then either bring it back or bring some other books they didn't want anymore. Really, he has trouble keeping the number down.
Dean turns back to what he is doing and picks up a rag to start wiping down the counter top.
Charlie comes back out a minute later with a box of napkins and starts refilling the metal holders. ‟You know,″ she says, ‟Cas is pretty dreamy. If I were a man, I would definitely be gay, and I would totally try to steal him from you.″
Dean raises an eyebrow at her.
She shrugs. ‟I said I'd try. I didn't say I'd succeed. For some reason he loves you more than the air he breathes. Personally, I don't get it.″
Dean smiles to himself.
‟So, anyway. What are your thoughts on Stucky?″
‟Charlie, you ignorant slut.″
And, of course, it is right then that Dean hears a small ‟Excuse me,″ from the other side of the counter. He looks down and sees the little girl. Charlie's eyes widen and she scurries away.
‟Oh, uh... sorry,″ he says, embarrassed. ‟You probably shouldn't have heard that.″
She just smiles and asks where the bathroom is. Dean points it out and she withdraws around the corner. When she comes back a moment later, she heads straight back to the table she had been sitting at, picks up a Goosebumps book, and disappears behind it.
It's not an atypical thing for a kid to do at his diner, but usually, they're with a parent, either shopping or eating. She isn't too young to be by herself, he supposes, and it's a hot day out, even for the middle of August. Maybe she came in to cool off from playing outside.
With that in mind, Dean fills up a tall glass with ice-water and walks it over. ‟Hey, kiddo,″ he says and sets it down. ‟Want a drink?″
She looks up and stares open-mouthed for a second, but then she says, ‟Oh. No. I'm fine.″
‟Hey, no worries. Water's free.″ Dean sits down on the opposite side of the table. ‟What are you reading there?″
She shows him the cover without saying anything. She's only a few pages in.
Dean smiles at her. ‟'The Haunted School.' I love that one.″ He watches as she takes a drink. ‟One of the better ones if you ask me.″
‟Yeah, I know. I've read it before.″
‟Have you?″
‟Um-hm. At the library.″
‟Cool.″ Dean notices her looking at his spiked hair. ‟So, do you read a lot?″ She nods. ‟What other books have you read?″
She shrugs. ‟I don't know?″
‟What about Harry Potter?″
She nods.
‟Lord of the Rings?″ She shakes her head no. Dean covers his heart with his hands like he's been hurt. ‟Never? Dude, don't tell Charlie that,″ he says and points to where Charlie is waiting tables. ‟She'll lose her mind. Biggest Tolkien nerd I've ever met in my life.″
The girl gives a small chuckle.
‟I'm Dean, by the way,″ he introduces himself, holding out a hand for a handshake.
‟Shauna,″ the girl says, tentatively reciprocating the gesture. ‟I like your hair,″ Shauna says, pointing as she takes her hand back. ‟And your tattoos.″
Dean grins wide. ‟Well, thank you, Darlin'. Like what you've got going on there yourself. Very... hippie chic.″
Shauna's face blossoms red, and she touches the ends of her hair. ‟Thanks. My mom doesn't like me to cut it. But if I could, I'd do it like yours.″
‟Hmm,″ he said, nodding thoughtfully. ‟Maybe you could pull it off. But I don't think green's quite your color.″ He reaches over and grabs some of her brown hair, holding it straight above her head in a two-foot monster mowhawk. ‟Bright red would be pretty badass though.″
She giggles, and pulls her hair back down around her shoulders.
‟Hey, Winchester!″ Charlie calls from the kitchen. ‟Quit skiving off and get your butt in here. We need help with the orders.″
‟Yes, ma'am,″ he calls back. He looks back to Shauna. ‟She's a scary one. Best not get on her bad side.″
‟I thought you were the owner.″
‟Well, yeah,″ he says, with a wave of his hand. ‟But if I didn't let her boss me around sometimes, then nothing would ever get done.″
‟I see.″
‟Do you now?″ he says, laughing as he stands up. ‟Well, it was fun chattin' with you, kiddo. Enjoy your book.″
‟Bye,″ she says as he walks away. He turns back to see her nose buried in the book.
It's nearly an hour later that the rush dies down and Dean is able to look for the girl again. But he is disappointed when he looks over to see the table vacated, with only the empty glass and the book on the surface. He goes over and reaches for the glass to take back to the sink when a set of strong arms grabs Dean from behind and spins him around.
Cas pushes Dean back roughly, forcing him to sit on the table top. Right there in front of God and everybody, he closes in between Dean's legs, invading his personal space without apology. Then Cas leans in, bringing their mouths together and ravishing Dean within and inch of his life, running his fingers up Dean's neck and through his hair. And, oh god, Dean can feel his entire body start to tingle all the way down to his toes.
It is only once Dean is on the verge of collapse for lack of air, that Cas finally pulls back with a smirk, and then he just walks away toward the kitchen like nothing happened, greeting Charlie as he passes.
Dean sits stunned for a moment, blinking rapidly, until Charlie sidles over to him and smacks him on the shoulder. ‟Hey, snap out of it, buddy. And fix your sex hair before it scares away the customers.″
And then my
soul saw you
and
kind of went
"oh, there you are.
I've been looking
for you."