Title: Buckle up tight
Author: sephirothflame
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dean Winchester/Nick, Castiel
Warning(s): language, slash, unbeta'd
Spoiler(s): through 5.22, "Swan Song"
Prompt(s): Prompted by aphoticdivinity for the spn_nick Tag War: Sam/Nick or Dean/Nick (whichever you think fits better, I'm not picky!) "Maybe you and I got a lot to learn/Don't waste another day/Maybe you got to lose it all/Before you find your way." (Don't Wait Too Long by Madeleine Peyroux.)
Word Count: 4,002
Rants: NGL, I'm not entirely sure what happened here... I should probably have waited for somone to tear it to shreds before I posted, but it's late as is... ETA: Edited for some spacing issues I didn't realize were there. Sorry.
Summary: Castiel leaves Nick on Dean's doorstep, saying they can find redemption with each other.
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Dean was in Montgomery County, Iowa working a haunting when Castiel showed up with Nick in tow. One minute he was thinking about how Sam would get a kick out of all the research Dean had to do to find the racist ghost and salt and burn him and the next he had to be physically restrained from shooting the man who used to be the Devil.
"It's not him," Castiel said firmly, holding Dean down with his newly vamped angel mojo. "Dean, it's not Lucifer."
"I don't care," Dean spat, glaring at Nick. "He might as well still be."
Nick flinched visibly at the words, dropping his gaze to the ground. "This is a bad idea, Castiel..." He said softly.
"No," Castiel replied, shooting a dark gaze at Nick. "You both seek redemption. You shall find it together."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, struggling against his invisible bonds. "I don't want anything to do with him."
"There are many demons who wish Nick dead," Castiel explain calmly. "It is not safe for him to be left alone. I cannot afford him any protection. I'm needed in Heaven."
"I forgot, you're the new head honcho now, aren't you?" Dean scowled.
"The hierarchy is the same as it once was," Castiel commented idly. "I am simply supervising. I am incapable of helping him. He needs you, Dean."
Dean bit back a bitter retort, glaring at Castiel for a brief moment before turning his attention to Nick. "Why me?"
"Because you need him," Castiel replied simply, before disappearing with a soft flutter of wings.
"What the Hell was that about?" Dean asked, curling his hands into fists before glancing at Nick warily. "I thought you were dead. You know, burned up with Lucifer riding around in you."
"If I was dead I would have been no use to Lucifer," Nick replied softly, glancing at Dean hesitantly before dropping his gaze to the floor. "His Grace would have burned through my corpse in seconds. It would have been better that way." Nick's voice trailed off and he ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't have to say it for Dean to hear the I deserve to be dead.
There was a million things Dean wanted to ask, a million things he wanted to shout and scream but he doubted that would get him anywhere. At that point, he doubted it would even make him feel better. He was just too tired. "Do you know how to shoot a gun?" Dean asked instead.
Nick looked at him warily before responding, "No."
"Do you know how to kill a ghost?" Dean continued. At Nick's blank stare, Dean sighed heavily. "Guess we'll start at the beginning, then."
The hunt was uneventful. Nick simply held the flashlight while Dean dug up the grave, passing him bags of salt and a can of lighter fluid when Dean asked for them. For a hundred year old vengeful spirit, it didn't seem to particularly interested in making sure no one disturbed its rest.
Dean was on edge the entire time, even through the relief of the racist bastard's demise. They stayed the rest of the night in Dean's motel room Montgomery County, Nick curling up on the couch as soon as they get back to the room.
Neither of them sleep that night.
When Nick had first started trailing after Dean like a lost puppy, Dean was reminded of Sam, when his brother was younger and still hero worshipped him. Nick gave him the same wide eyed look whenever Dean spoke and practically vibrated out of his own skin on the odd chance that Dean would complement something about him.
Dean, not that he'd admit it, kind of liked that Nick. The Nick that didn't question him, didn't feel the need to fill the silence with conversations. Nick hummed along with Dean's music and stared off into space whenever Dean wasn't actively paying attention to him.
The problem Dean had with Nick was that he was exactly the same as and completely different from Sam at the same time. More than once they'd slip into something familiar and Dean would want to call him "Sammy". He was always irritable and heartbroken after those times.
Nick was up at the crack of dawn, and while he brought Dean coffee back after every foray into the outside world, he'd use Dean's money to do it. Someone had cancelled his credit card while he'd been tromping around with Satan in him and all he had was four bucks in cash, with a few odd coins. He couldn't play poker or pick pockets, and for a guy that used to be Lucifer's vessel, he couldn't lie to save his life.
Though he never directly commented on Dean's choice in food, Dean always got the distinct feeling he was silently being judged for eating two burgers or chili cheese fries. He furrowed his brow if Dean lounged on his bed without kicking his boots off or spilled some food or drink but he never said anything about it.
Dean's only consolation was that Nick was capable of drinking Dean under the table and was more than willing to prove it.
"How the Hell can you hold your booze so well?" Dean had demanded, drunk and insistent as he jabbed Nick in the chest roughly.
"I went to college," Nick replied, batting Dean's hand away. It was slowly becoming his answer to every question Dean had about him, a vague reference to a time spent at university. Nick never expanded on it. He didn't like to talk about his past.
Dean didn't blame him. He didn't like to talk about his past either.
"He promised me I'd see my wife and daughter again," Nick whispered in the dark.
Dean rolled onto his side and pretended to be asleep. If he refused to have a heart-to-heart with Sam, he sure as Hell wasn't going to have one with the Devil's former vessel.
Nick was silent for a long while, before he sighed heavily, murmured words filling the quiet of the room. It took Dean longer than he cared to admit to realize Nick was praying, though for what he had no idea.
"I could have been happy, once," Dean said a few days later.
They were both sprawled across their beds in a cheap motel in Indiana, nursing beers and staring at the TV as a stolen pay per view channel played soft core porn. The programming had been Dean's choice. Nick had protested feebly but gave up when a blonde got naked and started making out with her twin brunette roommates.
"Hm?" Nick asked, tearing his gaze away to look at Dean. He took another swig from his beer and stared intently at Dean until the three girls on the television caught his attention again.
"I should be with Lisa and Ben," Dean commented idly, sipping at his own beer. He stared intently at the television, not daring to look at Nick. He didn't want to see sympathy or pity in the man's eyes. "I could have a family."
"I had a family, once," Nick replied softly.
"I know," Dean said. "Huh, a redhead," He continued, at lack of anything else to say. "And you didn't want to watch this."
"I don't think she'd really deliver pizza in a bikini," Nick commented idly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, for the first time in a long time. "There definitely wouldn't be a dildo in the pizza."
"Fuck you, that's sexy," Dean laughed, tossing an empty can of beer at Nick.
Nick made a startled sound when it hit him, catching him off guard, which caused Dean to guffaw in triumph. Nick glared at Dean warily, but didn't retaliate.
"Shut up and watch the porn," Dean grinned, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the TV. "It's free, so don't complain."
Nick made a noncommittal noise, but otherwise obeyed.
They continued to hunt, Nick and Dean. It wasn't the same flawless and efficient teamwork Dean was used to, had come to rely on, but Nick was good to have around. The former vessel was surprisingly good at research - "I went to college, Dean." - even if he couldn't shoot a can off of a fence to save his life.
"I don't like guns," He said nervously, holding the heavy metal weapon gingerly in both hands. "I don't like to hurt people."
Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that Nick used to be Lucifer's vessel. It was a low blow and he didn't want to ruin their tentative friendship because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Nick was all he had left. "It's for your own good," He said instead.
"I want pie," Nick replied, laying the gun down on the table and nudging it back towards Dean. "Let's go get lunch."
"You're avoiding the subject," Dean said, frowning. "You're going to have to learn to shoot a gun sooner or later."
"It'll still be here after we get lunch," Nick countered, pushing himself up from the table. "Come on." He reached for Dean, but hesitated, before curling his fingers into the sleeve of Dean's shirt and tugging lightly. They almost never touched. "Pie, Dean. Cherry or Apple or Peach."
"Fine, you win," Dean snorted. "You're lucky I love pie. This isn't over though."
"Of course not," Nick replied, flashing Dean a shy smile. "We'll work on – on the gun thing later."
Nick didn't eat any pie.
He didn't practice shooting, either. He convinced Dean to go see a movie with him, then go to a bar and hustle pool. It was dark by the time they made it back to the room, collapsing into their respective beds.
"You're a sneaky bastard," Dean chastised him.
"Maybe you're just easy," Nick replied, covering his mouth as he yawned.
Dean scoffed. "If I was easy, one of us would be getting laid regularly," he sniggered.
"Wouldn't both of us?" Nick asked, rolling on his side to look across the room at Dean.
"I didn't mean together," Dean replied, yawning tiredly. "It's bad juju to sleep with your hunting partner."
"Ah," Nick said softly, stretching out on his bed.
"Yeah…" Dean replied lamely. "Shut up and go to bed."
Nick scoffed, muttering something about being older than Dean, but he reached over to turn the lamp light off none-the-less.
"Tomorrow, you're going to work on your aim," Dean yawned again.
Nick made a noncommittal noise in response.
"I want to visit my family," Nick said softly, clicking the safety off on his gun and aiming it at an empty beer can. He pulled the trigger, but missed his target. "Dammit."
"I thought you didn't have any family left," Dean replied, moving to stand by Nick. He slipped a foot between Nick's boots, nudging until his feet were shoulder width apart. He adjusted the way Nick's arms were as well, before making a vaguely affirmative sound. "Try again. Try shooting between breaths."
Nick obeyed and the bullet hit the can to the left of the one he was aiming. "I don't," He said, glancing briefly at Dean before looking away. "Sarah... I want to visit their graves."
"I don't know..." Dean said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Cas said we should avoid going anywhere where people might recognize you. He's convinced you're going to be some demon's new favorite chew toy."
"Just for a few minutes," Nick pleaded, lowering the gun and turning to Dean. "Please, I haven't seen in her in so long – "
"Not until I know you can defend yourself," Dean said, shaking his head. "Right now, you can't even shoot a can off a fence ten feet away. If there were demons, you'd be helpless against them."
"So what, you want me to knock over all five cans?" Nick asked, frowning. He dropped his gaze to the gun in his hands, a distasteful look on his face. "I hate this thing."
Dean shrugged his shoulders. "My car, my rules. Unless you want to walk back home, we play it my way."
"Maybe I will walk," Nick snapped, bristling up in anger. "You can't keep treating me like a child."
"So go," Dean replied coolly. "Nothing keeping you here."
Nick made a frustrated sound before shoving his gun at Dean's chest, and the taller male fumbled for it. Dean watched Nick stalk off, fuming and cursed himself. He didn't know what Castiel would do if he found out that Dean chased Nick away.
"Fuck this," Dean muttered, turning his attention to the four remaining cans. Four shots later and there were no cans on the fence. "It's not like it's even that fucking hard."
Nick was leaning against the Impala when Dean finally made his way back through the bramble towards it.
"Thought you were running away," Dean said nonchalantly, trying to ignore the flood of relief that washed through his system. It wasn't like he cared that Nick threatened to leave him. People came and went all the time. That was life.
"I wouldn't have gone far," Nick replied, glaring at his shoes.
"Right, well," Dean started, licking his lips. "I'm starved. Let's go get lunch."
Nick looked at Dean, mildly suspicious, but slipped into the passenger's seat of the Impala as Dean unlocked it. "The crappy diner off of Main Street?"
"I was thinking the wing place near the Wal-Mart," Dean replied, shrugging his shoulders as best he could. "I'm craving something spicy. Unless - ?"
"Wings are fine," Nick sighed, slumping in his seat. "S'been a while since I had any."
Dean hummed an affirmative sound of agreement, before leaning over and turning the radio up. Whatever awkward conversation lurking between them was drowned out by 'Hotel California'.
Whatever camaraderie that Dean and Nick had built up between them had changed. Dean wasn't sure how he knew it, but he could feel it. It was made painfully obvious at dinner. Nick ordered one of the least hot sauces on the chart while Dean tosses back the third hottest like a pro.
He wanted to call Nick a wimp or a baby, almost did, but Nick glared at him, dared him and Dean bit his tongue. He didn't like the sudden nausea in his stomach that arose at the thought of chasing Nick away twice in one day. He definitely didn't want to think about why the feeling was there at all.
"I'm sorry about earlier," Nick said, eventually, as they made their way back to the motel room.
"Don't worry about it," Dean said, forcing his eyes to remain on the road. "You have a right to visit your family. I can't stop you. I won't stop you."
"I want – I'd like if you came with me," Nick continued, his voice dropping as he stared out of the window in front of him. "I'm going to go, either way, but – "
"Don't want to get eaten by something when I'm not there to protect you?" Dean asked, forcing a smirk onto his face when he looked over at Nick.
Nick glanced over at him, his expression unreadable before shrugging slightly. "Something like that."
The nauseous feeling in his stomach twisted sharply and Dean curled his fingers tightly around the steering wheel in response. "We'll leave in the morning," Dean replied, eyes flickering back to the road.
"Thank you," Nick said softly.
Things were almost, but not quite, back to normal after that. Nick stopped fighting about learning how to use a gun or hand to hand combat training, though he still pulled a face whenever Dean woke him up to go for a five o'clock run.
If Nick noticed Dean was taking the long way to get back to Nick's home, sometimes looping them back to take on hunts, he didn't comment on it. "I should buy flowers," He said instead, glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye. "Tiger lilies. They were Sarah's favorite."
Dean made a noncommittal noise as he stared ahead of him. The twisting in his gut was now accompanied by a pang in his chest and it was getting frustrating. "I'm sure we can find a florist in town," he said idly. "We're still a few hours out."
"True," Nick replied. He shifted in his seat, fidgeting awkwardly before looking over at Dean. "Thank you. For this."
"Don't thank me yet," Dean replied, staring intently at the road. "We haven't seen your family yet."
"Well, I doubt Bobby is going to call you to slay a coven of vampires in Wichita in the next few hours," Nick countered, shrugging. He slumped down in his seat and stared out of the front window, twitching more and more the closer they got.
"You never know," Dean said idly. There was a lot of cleaning up from the Apocalypse-That-Wasn't that still needed to be done.
"We've made it this far," Nick sighed. He closed his eyes, smiling faintly. "I'm going to take a nap."
Dean made a noncommittal noise, glancing at Nick out of the corner of his eye. There was something wrong with him, he knew it. There was no reason for the wash of relief that passed through Dean's system at the sight of a dozing Nick.
"Fuck my life," Dean muttered.
They didn't have any tiger lilies in the florist's shop, Nick had explained.
He couldn't remember what Sarah's second favorite flower was, or even if she had one. He looked equal parts miserable and guilty when he slipped into the front seat of the Impala, fingers twitching and adjusting the gerbera daisies in his hand.
"Those could blind a person," Dean said, glaring at the flowers.
"I didn't know what else to get," Nick replied, slumping in his seat miserably. "The cemetery is on the edge of town. We passed it on the way in."
"I remember," Dean answered, running a hand through his hair. He always had a habit of keeping track of cemeteries. Too many years as a hunter, he guessed. "You going to be long?"
"Mmmh," Nick hummed, smoothing the petals of a flower. "I don't know. You're not going to leave me here, are you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Dean replied. Nick cast him a curious glance, but Dean ignored it in favor of driving in silence. The cemetery was well kept and easy to spot.
"I'll be back shortly," Nick said, reaching to open the door and slide out.
"Wait!" Dean said.
Nick looked at him curiously, hesitating. He cocked his head to the side and stared at Dean in silence.
Dean hesitated, staring at Nick. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to stop the other male, other than the twisty feeling in his gut. "Here," he said, opening the glove compartment and pulling out the heavy handgun. "Just in case."
"I don't need a gun to visit my wife's grave," Nick said sternly. He scowled at Dean, folding his arms over his chest as best he could with the bouquet in hand.
"For my peace of mind," Dean replied, thrusting the gun at Nick. "Just take it."
Nick hesitated, before wrapping his fingers around the cool metal. "Right. Don't go anywhere."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Dean was asleep when Nick made his way back to the Impala an hour later. Nick slipped into the passenger seat before nudging Dean awake.
Dean absolutely did not startle at the action.
"Sorry it took so long," Nick muttered, exhausted.
"Don't worry about it," Dean murmured in reply, wiping sleep from his eyes. "Wasn't like I had anything better to do."
Nick made a keening sound, slumping in his seat.
Dean pretended he didn't see his tear stained cheeks.
"Let's get drunk," the former vessel said eventually. "I feel like getting drunk."
"I can get behind that."
In hindsight, getting drunk probably wasn't the smartest thing Dean and Nick had ever done. It was something they did often, but something about that night was different. Dean could tell from the moment Nick sat beside him on the bed and turned on the free soft core porn.
"We met in college," Nick said softly, dragging his knees up to his chest. "Sarah was protesting people who were protesting porn. It was kind of hot."
"Your wife liked porn?" Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Sarah didn't think porn was evil," Nick replied, which wasn't really an answer, but Dean didn't call him on it. "She used to say there were more important things to be protesting than the methods people used to get off."
"She sounds like a smart woman," Dean said, eyes flicking away from the TV to look at Nick.
"Mmh," Nick hummed. "Smarter than me, in any case. She'd never have said 'yes' to the Devil."
Dean shrugged a shoulder impassively. "I thought we were past you being a little bitch about that."
The look Nick gave Dean was cold and it reminded him of Sam all over again.
"I'm sorry about Sarah," Dean said weakly.
"Me too," Nick replied.
The porn kept playing and the booze kept flowing. Flick after flick, bottle after bottle, until eventually both of them were too drunk to tell up from down. Their idle comments about the porn turned slightly more graphic, commenting and complaining, until they both stared to doze off.
Sometime around midnight, Nick had slumped against Dean, causing the hunter's heart to flutter. Dean was convinced Nick had fallen asleep at that point. Trying to quell the thundering in his chest, he tried to think of the best way to slip away from Nick without waking him.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Nick asked, shifting his weight, throwing a leg over and between Dean's to rest more comfortably against his shoulder.
"I thought you were asleep," Dean replied, shifting uncomfortably under Nick's weight. There was no safe place to rest his arm so he figured 'fuck it' and curled it around Nick's waist.
"I think I might be falling in love with you," Nick murmured, turning his head and breathing against Dean's cheek. "Such crappy time, but I realized it earlier when I was visiting Sarah."
"You don't even know me," Dean murmured in response, skin tingling as Nick's breath tickled him. "Besides, didn't I mention it was bad juju?"
"You said sex was bad juju," Nick corrected. He paused, shifting his weight again, before bringing a hand up to Dean's cheek. "You never said anything else."
"We really shouldn't," Dean replied, closing his eyes. "We'll regret it in the morning, you know."
"Maybe," Nick answered, brushing his lips against Dean's. "We regret everything already anyways. Besides, if not now, when? You can't put things off forever."
Dean wanted to say something to that, wanted to come up with a witty rejoinder that would cut the conversation short without causing any undo heartache, but Nick had brought up a good point. He already regretted everything he'd been up to lately anyways. That, and his heart was pounding rapidly in his chest once more.
"Maybe," Dean said slowly, sighing heavily. "What's one more mistake? It's not like I can start another Apocalypse, is it?"
"My thoughts exactly," Nick laughed, his breath warm against Dean's lips. Before Dean could respond, Nick pressed their lips together.
The odds they were going to regret it in the morning were pretty high, but through the booze and the loneliness and the heartache, Dean really couldn't bring himself to care. It was like Nick said, if not now, when? Dean was tired of avoiding, tired of putting things off. For once he was going to put himself first and if that meant eliciting some bad juju, then, well, he would deal with it when it came around.
He was Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire after all and Nick was shaping up to be a damn good himself. The world couldn't stop them if it wanted to.