Mary's Cherry Pie

When Sam got a full ride to Stanford, he left a lot behind. Kansas was about as beautiful as one might think, which wasn't very beautiful at all. Honestly, he had grown sick of seeing Dean pull a blanket over their couch-ridden, comatose father. Not that Dean himself was any trouble. In fact, Dean was probably the only thing he would miss. The man could cut a sandwich into four perfect triangles and say the alphabet backwards quicker than he said it forwards. Sam was sure there was much more, but when he tried to think about it, nothing came to mind.

"Dean is just… he's great," he'd told Ruby one night, not understanding why it was important to build his brother up for her. "He just takes some getting used to."

"I doubt I'll ever meet him," she'd said, and slipped out from beneath the covers. Her long thighs left him alone.

Later, Sam found himself making lists of things that made Dean such a memorable brother. He thought about the packed lunches and the rides to school in the Impala that always made Sam look like less of a nerd to his peers. Dean would wrestle their drunken mess of a father home and to work (when he was working) and into the shower. He would cook breakfast and dinner and holiday meals from the dusty recipe book their mother had left behind in her untimely death.

Dean could fix any car if he looked at it long enough and jammed out to classic rock cassettes (another memento of their mother's) even when the rest of the world went digital. Dean was classic cool.

"So he's a, what? Greasy rocker?" Ruby asked at dinner one night, Sam having finally convinced her to go on a real date with him.

"You are over simplifying it."

"Oh please, do continue."

Stanford was everything that Sam could dream of and he wrote emails to his brother every week to catch him up on the latest happenings. For a while, Dean would shoot back simple messages like 'You're such a nerd' and 'Keep it up', but soon the replies stopped coming. Eventually the only word Sam ever heard from Dean was the occasional postcard. He only ever signed them.

Sam was okay with that. Dean never really liked computers anyway. Still, he kept emailing him and checking for a response.

"So, your brother travels now?" Ruby asked him with a toothbrush in her mouth.

"Yeah, I guess he finally needed to get away from Dad."

"How does he afford it?"

When Dean turned fourteen, Bobby Singer dragged his thieving ass into his auto shop and made Dean work to pay off the parts he had stolen from his junkyard to pawn. The man saw great potential in Dean, and kept him. The boy was a natural with a wrench, Bobby would say. The customers never seemed to mind. It wasn't a secret where Dean was going after school, but any authority who knew John Winchester turned the other way.

Dean's first real paycheck was for ninety dollars and thirty two cents. He used forty to open a savings account and the rest to buy Sam a new pair of shoes. Dean had worked every day of his life ever since.

"When I got my full ride, the money Dean had put aside for my college fund no longer had a purpose," Sam said, unburying himself from the books spread out on his bed. "He gave me half in case I needed it and kept the rest."

"How noble."

Sam was glad Dean got to keep the money. He had worked two jobs and dropped out of school for that money. Dean deserved it more than he ever did. Dean had always wanted to travel, but Sam had preferred a more peaceful life.

When Sam met Ruby, he hated her instantly. She talked down on him (impressive, for their height difference) and was always loud and rude and much too beautiful to be anything but trouble. Four years later, having finished Pre-Law, Sam had proposed. It wasn't monumental the way it probably should have been, but Ruby could shrug even the most outstanding events off her shoulders so Sam thought not to waste the effort. They were an odd pair, and often their friends would ask if they were sure marriage was the right direction to head in, but somehow they had fallen in love and Sam wasn't one to question the universe.

That was more Dean's style.

Sam had guessed long ago that Dean left home because what made it 'home' had faded. With Sam gone, Dean would have been cursed to live every day catering to John's alcoholism and working the blood out of his veins to pay bills that weren't even his. Instead, Bobby gave him an out, took John into his own home and set Dean free.

Sam was surprised it took him two months afterward to actually leave, but leaving was always hard.

"Have you told your brother about the engagement?" Ruby asked, her heels clicking on the marble airport floor. Behind her, Sam carried two large luggage bags.

"I wanted to do it in person."

"Isn't that going to be a bit difficult? Isn't he ransacking the country or something?"

Sam heaved their bags onto the conveyor belt. "Well, I have to tell Dad and Bobby first. They might know where we can find him."

There's a beating in my
chest
and it's seeming to suggest
that before this day is through
it might
go my way

Bobby's place hadn't aged a day since Sam left. The splintering sideboards and aching rocking chair that groaned beneath the slight breeze had been perfectly preserved. They were just the way they had been in Sam's memories.

"Is that you, boy?" It was telling how Bobby was the first to wrap his arms around the lumbering giant, trying to hide his excitement behind a mask of whiskey and scruff. "What are you doing in this old place?"

John looked up from his spot on Bobby's couch and spared a rumbling "Hello," before slipping his attention back to the television. He was similarly disinterested when Sam and Ruby stood before the two and announced their engagement.

"Dean always said you were gonna go to college, get married, and have a bunch of rugrats," Bobby said, running a hand through his hair. "Getting started on that yet? I'll have you know, I'm too old to be babysitting."

"Don't worry, that's a ways off," Sam said, laughing. Even Ruby had warmed around the edges, but Bobby offered the sandpaper affection that she preferred.

"Have you told Dean?" John finally spoke up.

"Not yet. We wanted to tell him in person. We were actually hoping you'd have some idea of where he is right now or how to get a hold of him? We don't mind flying out but we've gotta find him first and let him know we're coming."

"We don't' know where he is," John said, turning the volume on the TV back up. Sam and Ruby shared a look, and it was probably the only thing that kept her from calling the man out for being so rude. "That boy hasn't bothered to call even once since he left. You'd think he didn't know how to work a damn cell phone. Good riddance, if you ask me."

Sam and Ruby slept in the den that night on the pull-out couch. It wasn't the most comfortable but it smelled like smoke and liquor the way home always had.

"Your father is a charmer," Ruby said, combing out her dark tresses. "I'm so glad I got to meet him. Now I know to what extent I should go to in order to avoid further family reunions."

"I know."

Ruby watched her fiancé strip out of his shirt with sharp, aggressive movements before she stood and placed her hands on his chest.

"I'm sorry," she said. Ruby didn't apologize often, but John Winchester made even the most unsympathetic of people want to apologize to his two boys. Luckily, before the moment could grow tense, a soft knock on the wall drew their attention from each other.

"Hey, Bobby."

"Listen to me, boy. Your father doesn't know this, but Dean and I have kept in touch over these past few years." His voice was a whisper, but unnecessary as John was likely passed out somewhere. "We exchange letters."

"How do you know where to send them?" Sam asked him, pulling on a tank top.

"He has a PO box in Shiner, Texas. He's had it for almost three years now."

"What? He's been living in Texas for three years? I thought he was traveling."

Bobby shrugged his heavy shoulders. "The Idjit doesn't ever explain himself. I just know that he never takes long to respond to my letters, so he can't possibly go far."

Ruby had watched the exchange silently until then, bored, but spoke up. "Does this mean we're going to Texas?"

It's just my patience that keeps
me alive
just like all those pretty lights
in the
sky

Finding Dean was a very reluctant adventure, and Bobby was more than happy (in his less than amused way) to join up with them on their journey. He'd grumbled about his liver and old bones the entire time he'd planted himself alongside them.

"Are you sure it's alright to leave Dad alone?"

"Rufus is gonna check up on him. He won't get himself killed… hopefully."

Nobody laughed.

The three drove down because Bobby insisted that taking a plane was useless when they had a healthy array of cars to choose from and would need one upon their arrival anyway. Sam had never been to Texas before, but Ruby had and she was an odd mix of excited and irritated to be going back. Something about Texas made people feel that way.

It was fourteen hours of driving that no one wanted to repeat, but would inevitably have to.

Shiner was smaller than the average small town and as Sam, Ruby, and Bobby looked down its single stretch of highway, the thought that Dean had been there for anywhere near as long as he had, seemed impossible.

"So, how do we find him?" Ruby asked.

Sam and Bobby shared a look equal parts pain and amusement before stating, simultaneously, "Sheriff's office."

Even if it was famous for its brewery, Shiner was a safe and very tight-knit community. Cops were as much regular citizens as the citizens themselves were, so when Sam asked a man outside of a gas station who to turn to for advice, the name he was given was 'Jody Mills'. She was easy to find, thanks to various fingers pointing in the right direction. The woman had short hair and a stern expression while she paid for her newspaper, and Sam would have thought twice about approaching her. Thankfully, Ruby had no such restrictions.

"Excuse me, Sheriff. Maybe you can help us out?" she asked, her arms crossed and looking not even the slightest bit intimidated. It was no mystery how she kept Sam in line.

"Sure thing. What did you need?" Jody's voice was far softer than her demeanor, and tapered upward at the end like the fingers on a delicate hand. Bobby could not help but to notice along with the glimmer of her badge that she was 'something'. What that something was, he could not name, but 'something' all the same.

"We're looking for someone. Dean Winchester?" Sam said.

"Hah. Funny." Jody smiled and tossed her head back. When the three did not share the sparkle of humor in her eyes, her expression dropped. "Oh, you're serious?"

"Usually, yeah," Sam gave Ruby a sharp nudge to the arm, to which she responded by shooting him a look that could give puppies cancer.

"He's down at Mary's. He's always at Mary's."

Sam's eyebrows hit his hairline.

"Who's Mary?" Bobby spoke up, lowering his gaze when the woman turned to face him. The look Jody fixed them with was a cross of suspicion and pity, the likes of which Sam did not know could coexist.

"You boys ain't from around here… are you?"

Falling to your knees
before a stranger on the street
I did it just the other
day
You should have seen me

As it turned out, Mary's was a diner in the center of town that served thirty-six kinds of pie, ice cream, drinks, and all day breakfast. At least that was what the sign said beneath the twinkling red, light-up letters. Like all things in Shiner, Texas, it had been easy enough to find. Being a Monday in a town with around two thousand people, the place was startlingly packed. A dozen or so tables had customers crushed together like canned oysters and the only reason Sam, Ruby, and Bobby got one of their own was because they entered the moment a group of teenagers (who weren't in school, for some reason) decided to leave.

"I can't believe how packed out this place is," Sam said, taking the chair in the back corner and the farthest from the rest of the inhabitants. "I thought Shiner was famous for its brewery?"

"They come for the beer, stay for the pie." The voice was deep and ground like rocks tumbling together. None had heard the man approach. "Welcome to Shiner, and on top of that, welcome to Mary's. We hope you enjoy your visit."

The man had hair that stuck up wildly and wore a peach apron over his blue button up. On the apron was an embroidered bumble bee. Sam thought that despite his messy five o' clock shadow and dark voice, there was kindness in his eyes that swam like oceans of blue.

"Is Mary the owner?" Sam asked, glancing at his apricot menu. He hoped that if his brother were there, he would not be lost in the crowd.

"What? No." The waiter smiled, bringing life to his drooping eyes. "That would be Dean over there."

Like the parting of the sea, the crowd split open to reveal the counter, not before seen. It was a half circle of crystal clear glass, shielding an array of pies set side by side. Behind the counter was Dean, so similar and yet so different than how Sam recalled him. The stains of car grease had been replaced with puffs of flower and although he still wore a flannel, it was tucked behind a full, tan apron. Sleeves rolled to his elbows, Deans hands worked through a mound of dough on a giant marble counter in plain view. Several customers watched him work, saw every caress of his thumb as he prepared each pie. It was a compelling show.

"You're telling me that boy owns this place?" Bobby asked, trying not to raise his voice.

"Mary was his mother's name, so… yeah. Mary's."

Sam and Bobby exchanged a look that consisted of slack jaws and silence. Ruby cleared her throat.

"You serve pumpkin pie in August?" she asked, and Sam was grateful that at least she could form a coherent thought.

"Everything on the menu is available year round."

"Why isn't it seasonal?"

"Dean thinks that limiting pie to a certain part of the year is, as he puts it, stupid."

Sam had just started to wrap his head around the fact that his brother owned a diner, a diner that specialized in pie, when the devil himself spoke.

"Cas! There's meringue that needs whipping!" The shout traveled over the heads of the customers. Dean hadn't even turned around. If he had, he might have seen Sam and Bobby gaping at his back. It was a surprise he did not shift under their scrutiny alone, but the man was so fixated in his work that he dare not stop.

"One minute!" Cas called back, and really, Sam should have read his nametag.

"Have you decided on what you would like to order or shall I come back?" he asked, pencil held to the notepad in his hand.

"What would you recommend?" Sam really owed Ruby after this, for doing all the talking when he could not convince himself to speak.

"The 'I Love You, Rhubarb' pie, but I am being incredibly biased." Cas' gaze drifted from them. "Our most popular pick is the house special, 'Mary's Cherry' pie."

"The big one and I will each have a slice of that."

"Make mine the same," Bobby huffed, handing back the three menus.

"Would you like anything to drink with that?"

"Coffee," Sam said, glancing at his companions. "Coffee?"

Ruby and Bobby nodded.

Cas' smiles were not electric nor were they wide, but their presence offered to reassure Sam that his fumbling would be forgiven. "I will be back soon."

Mary's Cherry Pie

Slice of Mary's Cherry pie, a la mode.

Never feel lost or alone again.

With this slice, you'll always be home. 3.99

"I can't believe that Dean-"

"Okay, this is something I didn't see-"

"I wonder if the cherry pie is really all that-"

The three stopped, collected themselves, and tried again.

"Dean owns a diner," Sam said.

"That makes pie," Bobby added.

"And judging by the turnout today, is pretty popular with the locals." Ruby whistled at the granite table. "No wonder Jody was so surprised. If this place is so popular, and Dean owns this place, we must have looked like fools trying to find him."

"Dean owns a diner," Sam repeated. "Why didn't he tell us?"

Christmas and Thanksgiving had always been Dean, down to every dessert, including pie. Sam hadn't thought about it growing up because there was supposed to be pie on the table. He never questioned how it got there. Thinking back, there had always been a collective silence as it was eaten, an unspoken agreement to not congratulate Dean, then being a teenager, about filling in the role of mother and father. Their quiet expressions were always of awe.

Sam recalled his pie being damn good.

Cas dropped three perfectly balanced plates on their table. On each plate was a fat slice of cherry pie, topped with whipped cream and a drizzle of honey. They could have been photos straight out of a magazine.

"Benny will be around shortly with your coffee. We had to put on a new pot, so you get it fresh." But Cas was hardly paying them any attention. Dean had an arm up, waving a large plastic mixing bowl. Still, he did not turn.

"Oh. Right."

By the time Cas was behind the counter, washing his hands in the small sink by the marble, Dean had pulled a pie from the oven with a perfectly golden lattice. He held it in large, red, checkered mitts and inhaled so deeply that, even in the bustle of the diner, his satisfaction could be heard. He set it beside the waiter who was then separating eggs into a bowl. None of the three even noticed the scruffy man who brought them their coffee.

"Tell me, Cas," Dean said, spinning the pie like a pinwheel. "Who do you love?"

"The humble?" Cas said, twitching from clear amusement.

Sam felt his throat go dry.

"Cheeky bastard." Dean rolled his eyes and took the pie to the rack to cool.

"Sam?"

The younger Winchester snapped his gaze to Ruby, whose eyes were wide and watery.

"I can't marry you," she said. "I have to marry your brother."

"He is not that hot-" Sam stopped when he saw the fork resting at his fiancée's lips. He looked down at his own untouched slice and took a tentative bite.

It was different. He could recognize clearly the familiar sour tang of his late mother's recipe that Dean would use during the holidays, but the crust had changed. It flaked perfectly, and each flake seemed to caramelize on his tongue as he chewed. He was almost able to forget about the display occurring behind the counter, the one that wasn't a row of pies.

"No one whips meringue quite like you do," Dean said to Cas. His voice seemed to resonate within the walls, as if they knew that their god was speaking.

"Flattery will not put this pie away to set."

Sam watched his brother, whom had always been the local trouble, pout and, with his tail practically between his legs, mosey off to do as he was told. But not before Cas took a finger full of fresh meringue and wiped it across Dean's nose.

"I thought your brother was a leather-jacket wearing, car-fixing, greasy, rock fanatic? That dude just wiped meringue on his nose," Ruby said, her cheeks flared out around a mouthful of pie.

"Is Texas some sort of twilight zone?" Bobby grumbled, trying to disguise the eagerness with which he ate his slice.

"Honestly, I don't even know how to approach him," Sam said. He had thought Dean would be hanging out, or at most, serving for a few tips. He'd thought he could just amble up to him, knock him on the shoulder, and use the public setting to avoid any sentimental moments. But now…

"Hello again." Cas had a real talent for appearing from seemingly nowhere. "I am on break, so if you have any questions about Mary's or Shiner, I'd be happy to provide you with some answers. Dean and I believe sharing a pie makes you family, and family means being welcomed home."

"Home?" Sam croaked, trying to clear his throat.

"Home. It's where the pie is."

"That's awful," Ruby said, turning her nose up.

"I know. I've tried to convince Dean to change it countless times, and yet it remains to be the truth."

Sam might have thrown up if the thought of wasting a perfect slice of pie wasn't so appalling.

"This whole place seems real mom and pop," Bobby said, clearly taking pity on Sam who had ceased to properly function. "I'm guessing you keep it all local?"

"Mostly." Cas pointed to the man that had brought their coffee. "That's Benny. Dean met him in a street fight. The guy just jumped right in like it was an old past time. After they cleaned up, Dean offered him a job. Don't worry though, he's harmless."

"The girl is Charlie." Cas then pointed to a young woman who sat alone with a guitar case. She seemed almost bored as she sucked consistently on the straw of her milkshake. "She sings at three every Monday and Friday. I'm not sure how she got the gig but people love to come and see her. She's starting soon, that's why it's so crowded right now."

"Kevin's a genius." He gestured to an Asian teenager who scribbled furiously at a piece of paper on the counter. "He began spending every afternoon in the back booth, studying, and then Dean got a call asking if he delivered. He was going to say no, but decided it would be a better idea to recruit the kid. He's not even officially an employee; he just gets free pie and makes a round or two each day. His mother is a real spitfire."

"You deliver?" Ruby asked, her words garbled by her last large bite of crust.

"Of course," Cas' excitement at the question outweighed the allotted amount for any employee that waited tables. "We even have subscriptions. Who knew you could subscribe to pie? Every Tuesday, Old Missouri Moseley gets a Chocolate crème. Wednesdays the police department gets two Boston crèmes. Saturdays the local little league gets four apple. Not to mention we get calls every day asking for Mary's cherry."

"I'm surprised with all the options that the Cherry is the most popular," Ruby said.

"It's something about familiarity," Cas said. "When Dean came here he had nothing but eight thousand dollars and a killer cherry pie recipe. He said what made it so good was the memories baked into it. Don't tell him I told you, he hates it when he sounds sentimental."

"I'll bet," Ruby snorted. Sam nudged her beneath the table, to which she gave him a much more aggressive kick.

Cas didn't notice. He watched Dean's shoulders roll as he pressed out a pie crust.

When Sam saw Dean, he saw a man free from the shackles he wore in Lawrence, free from the weight of two jobs, John Winchester, and even Sam, that he carried. Sam had left and Dean had finally come to life, blossomed. Dean made a place, with nothing but a GED and an abandoned college fund, where Sam could sit at a granite table and eat a slice of gourmet pie that made even his icy fiancée red in the cheeks.

"What about you?" Sam asked. "Are you local, too?"

"Not at all. I passed through on a business trip when I heard rumor of a recently opened pie shop worth visiting. I came in to see what all the fuss was about only to find out they did not serve rhubarb pie at the time, and, well, I'm still here."

Sam wanted to put a name to the fondness in Cas' eyes, but was unable to.

"You seem to admire him a lot," Ruby said. Sam knew better than to attempt another nudge beneath the table.

"Who, Dean?"

She nodded.

"Of course." Cas collected their crumb-free plates. "There isn't a man in this town with anything bad to say about him. Women on the other hand…"

"So he's a player?"

"Ruby," Sam groaned.

"Not in a while, no. I do hope he has kicked that habit," Cas said.

"Hey, Cas. You have to try the rhubarb with the kiwi. I thought it was gonna flop but I have to say you were really onto-"

None had seen Dean loom up behind Cas until Dean had seen them. His eyes locked on Sam's and his last word tumbled out almost as an afterthought.

"Something."

"I look forward to it," Cas said, not noticing the rise in tension. "I was just answering a few questions for some first timer's. I never did get your names…"

"Hi, Sammy. Bobby," Dean whispered, shier than either had ever seen him before. He looked caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Sammy?" Cas repeated, his eyebrows brought together. "As in-"

"My brother, Sam."

The waiter with the peach, bumblebee apron glanced back and forth between the two Winchesters.

"Well, this is awkward."

"Tell me about it," Ruby grumbled with her arms crossed. Now that the shit had hit the proverbial fan, she saw little chance at ordering a second slice.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Dean asked, abandoning the staring contest with his brother.

"Ruby." She extended a polished hand.

Dean took it, but with reluctance. Sam had guessed as much would happen. He'd had a similar first impression of the woman.

"I would say Sam's told me all about you, but he really hasn't," Dean said, claws extended.

"I would say he's told me about you as well, but it seems he got it all wrong."

Sam could not have imagined their introduction going any worse… until it did.

Still holding Ruby's outstretched hand, Dean's eyes shot back to him.

"Engagement ring," he said. "Sammy, why has she got an engagement ring?"

"I, uh, I wanted to tell you in person." Ruby glanced at her stuttering fiancé. "I mean we wanted to tell you in person."

She smiled.

"I don't' like her," Dean said, dropping her hand, repulsed by the news.

"Tough nuts, we're getting married in the spring," she said.

Sam wasn't sure what would have happened, surely a throw down of some sort, had Cas not intervened.

"It's two, Dean."

Dean nodded and let the subject drop, which was good because if he had started yelling about the engagement then surely Sam would have began to yell about the restaurant and why it took him stepping foot in the door to find out it even existed.

"I've got to send out some deliveries. I'll be free in half an hour. Can the inevitable conversation wait until then?"

"No problem, Dean," Sam said.

"Okay. Good. Cas, can you run to the bank?"

"Of course."

Cas followed him to the counter and waited while Dean emptied the safe from beneath the register. He shot a nervous glance at Sam's table before dropping his voice to a whisper.

"I'll miss you," he said, flashing his infamous smile at the waiter.

"I don't understand why, I will be gone for no longer than two of your metaphorical shakes."

"They're not my shakes, Cas, they're- just get out of here."

The shaggy man left with the chime of a bell and Sam thought an angel might have just gotten its wings.

"Does Cas share ownership or something?" Sam asked, shifting in his seat.

"I don't know but they make quite the couple," Ruby said.

"Um, they are not a couple."

"They so are a couple."

"You're crazy."

"C'mon, Bobby," Ruby said, "Isn't it obvious? I thought it was obvious."

"How would I know?" Bobby grumbled, sinking lower in his seat.

"I admit," Ruby said, "I thought this was going to be a horribly boring and agonizing trip, but I'm having a swell time."

Sam stared into his now cold coffee.

"We should order a Mary's cherry to take back. Or five. I feel like I need one all to myself."

Ruby's voice had become a distant hum to Sam, who thought about the intimacy between his brother and the waiter when they had been behind the counter. The feather-light banter, the meringue… The evidence suggested it to be true, but more so than being told that his brother finds sexual interest in men, Sam could not believe that Dean was in something that resembled an actual relationship.

Dean, who groped girls in the janitor's closet and ditched his prom date two years in a row, committed.

"It looks like that Idjit has more explainin' to do than we thought," Bobby said, taking a sip of his coffee and scowling. It too had gone cold. "Damn."

And I remember we stayed up
way past you're bedtime
up on the
2nd floor
down by my sliding door
just innocent kids
in a victimless
crime

By the time Cas returned from the bank, Dean and Sam had already instigated an argument about whether or not they would be paying for their meal. Sam insisted that not only had Dean done enough for him in his life, but their arrival was completely unannounced and Dean should not have to feel obligated to take care of them. Dean, however, asked what the point of owning a diner even was if your family could not eat on for free.

Cas settled it by giving the three a half off discount and a free extra slice of Mary's cherry that Ruby happily devoured.

The sound of her munching was too much in the silence, so Sam blurted out, "Are you and Cas…"

"Fucking?" Ruby finished, wiping her mouth with a delicate hand before diving in for another enormous bite.

"Ruby, I do not need that image in my head."

"This is so not happening right now," Dean hissed, rubbing his eyes.

"This could all be for the best," Cas said, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. The gesture was placating and Sam could not un-see how pliant Dean became at a single touch.

"I just want to know what the hell is going on," Sam said. he wasn't mad about the restaurant, or the sexuality shift, he was just angry that Dean never bothered to mention any of it.

In the background, Charlie began to sing.

"About the restaurant or about Cas?"

"Both."

"Fine, I'll try to summarize it for you."

"Okay but can you… I don't know… leave out any… you know."

"Sex parts," Ruby said.

"Those are my favorite parts," Cas said, looking down-trodden.

None but Dean knew it to be his joking expression.

"Not now, Cas."

"And yet it is I that you refer to as a spoilsport. I'm going to make coffee." The man stood and rounded to the, once again, empty pot.

"Make mine a double," Dean called out.

"Make your own a double," Cas grumbled.

Still, he came back with two.

Trapped in a metaphor
Hoping for something more