Cas's Logical Suggestion, Chapter 9
By CastielLovesDean
Warnings for this chapter: Jokes about a Bobby/Crowley slash relationship, but they're just jokes. Also, more allusions to bestiality. And a reference to Harry Potter.
A/N: This would have been up sooner, but my doggie got very sick very suddenly and I've been busy taking care of him. He's better now.
This is the last chapter before I post three different endings in the places of chapters 10, 11, and 12. They will be clearly labeled in several spots.
To satisfy my pro-Bobby/Crowley readers, one of the endings will include this slash pairing. For the rest of the fic and the other endings, you should assume that Bobby and Crowley are just friends. To those of you who think B/C is squicky, that ending will not contain kissing, cuddling, or below-the-belt nudity, and I encourage you to give it a chance. I understand if you cannot, and in that case I hope you'll still read the other two endings (once I post them). Also, that will be my first attempt at B/C and I would like feedback on whether or not I did the pairing justice.
To satisfy my pro-mpreg readers (and myself, lol), one of the endings will have Destiel mpreg. I'm pretty sure I know which boy will be preggers, but it is still possible to change my mind with logic (I'm a big fan of logic, in case you didn't notice) or ample begging, lol. Keep in mind, I intend to write a sequel to Cas's Logical Suggestion based on this ending which will include the entire pregnancy through the birth of their child and bringing it home (which will probably be Bobby's house for now). I hope people who are squicked by mpreg will read that ending anyway (I know one who will) and let me know if it was about what they expected or, hopefully, better. If it's not too squicky, please read the ensuing sequel. This ending and the first chapter of the sequel will be posted at the same time to make it easier for you guys to subscribe to that fic if you so choose.
I am undecided on what the third ending should be (though I have a couple ideas), and I am open to suggestions. I am also open to writing more than three endings if I get bitten by several plot-bunnies (or ending-bunnies, as it were) at the same time.
Thank you for your time.
"Hey, Bobby!" Dean yawned in bed. "I thought you were asleep."
"Asleep? What time d'ya think it is?"
"Uh... I dunno..." Dean looked around for a clock. Table, chairs, empty pie dish, large TV paused on... oh, my... No clock. "I just woke up myself a couple minutes ago."
"It's two in the afternoon," Bobby informed him. "Didja sleep well, Princess?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Did you have a reason for calling other than to mock my sleeping habits?"
"Yeah, there's somethin' I gotta say."
Dean stretched sleepily and scooted back under the covers, pulling the thick comforter up around his naked chest. "What's that," he asked, "been hooking up with Crowley?"
"What? Eew. No! Why wouldja even say that?"
"I dunno. Me and Cas, Sam and Gabe... I mean, it's weird; it's like all the straight guys I know are suddenly turning gay, ya know?"
"Well, that's fine, but Crowley? Really?"
Dean shrugged halfheartedly against his pillow. "Yeah, why not? He's been around a bit lately... you kissed him..."
"It was a Deal. I kissed him just like your daddy kissed Yellow-Eyes."
Dean sat up sharply, his blanket falling to his waist. "What!"
"Oh, don't act so surprised! You know that's the way Demon Deals work!"
"Yeah, I know." He added, covering his eyes as if to block the images, "I just didn't need the visual, okay?"
"Fine," Bobby continued, "but just because a couple a guys-"
"A guy and a Demon."
"-hang out from time ta time, have a couple friendly chess matches, occasionally go ta brunch-"
"Brunch?" Dean reiterated with a scoff. "You guys do brunch?" He got out of bed and started to pace back and forth in the crowded room. "Y'know, Bobby, I was joking about you two before, but now, I'm pretty sure you're dating."
"I'll have you know that Crowley prefers breakfast and I prefer lunch. Brunch is a perfectly logical compromise – yer boyfriend even suggested it!"
"Oh, and now you're compromising? I take it back – you're not dating; you're married."
"I am not sleeping with Crowley!"
Dean barked out a laugh. "That just proves you're married."
"I sent the text," Bobby blurted out.
The sudden topic change confused Dean, and he stopped pacing. "Text?"
"That's what I called ta say. I sent the text ta Sam sayin' he could continue gettin' it on with Gabe."
"What? Why? How?"
"One question at a time, ya idjit!"
Dean sighed and slouched against the small table. "Fine. Let's start with 'how.'"
"Oh, that was easy. I walked in the panic room while you were sleepin' – by the way, you'd better put it back as you found it – took yer phone, texted Sam, put it back, an' left."
"Cas didn't stop you?"
"He was busy takin' creepy pictures of you while ya slept."
"And you didn't stop him?"
"I thought it was funny," Bobby admitted with a laugh.
Dean growled in frustration before something occurred to him. "Hold on a second... you were asleep when Sam cut Gabriel off – how'd you find out about it?"
"Ya think I don't know what goes on in my own house? Use yer head, boy!"
"Wh..." Oh, not good. Dean straightened against the table. "So, you know everything that happens in here?"
"Yep."
"Like... everything?"
"Yeah," Bobby repeated with a judgmental tone.
Dean blushed and lowered his voice. "Even..."
"Even that."
There was a long, awkward pause while Dean searched the room, wondering where that squid had scampered off to. How long could they even live out of water? "Look, Bobby..." he started.
"Dean, the twisted things you and yer Angel do to each other in private is yer own business. Just know that yer scrubbin' the entire panic room with lye before ya go anywhere."
"No problem," Dean acquiesced easily, dropping the subject. This wasn't exactly something he was eager to discuss with the older Hunter. "What were we talking about again?"
"Your brother an' his Angel."
Oh. Right. Dean made an annoyed face.
"Don't make that face at me, boy!"
How the Hell could he know? "Okay."
"You wanted to know why I sent the text."
"Yeah. Yeah, I remember."
"Well, part of it's the white-noise. I've gotten so used to the thump thump thump on the wall at night, I can hardly fall asleep without it."
"Bobby, you pervert!" Dean joked.
"More importantly," Bobby continued, sounding irritated, "whether er not you'd like to see it, Sam an' Gabriel are good together. I mean, I know Gabriel's kind of a dick, but so are you. And just like you, he has his moments where it's obvious that he cares."
"Hey, you don't have to tell me! Sam just gave me the rundown, like, two seconds ago!"
"Yeah, well, he didn't tell you the whole story."
Sam doesn't always tell the complete truth. For example, he remembers exactly what Gabriel did to get Sam to fall in love with him. It wasn't his hilarity or his zeal or his intelligence... it wasn't all the times he'd saved his ass on a hunt or the nightmares he'd turned into Kinkade-esque dreamscapes. It wasn't even the little gifts he'd leave him in the cutest or (more commonly) most awkward places.
It was the pictures.
It started out a couple times a month, then every week. Eventually, every couple of days, Sam would get a series of pix messages of Dean and his new little family, and his heart would melt. He worried about his brother a lot but didn't want to risk Dean's happiness by being in close physical proximity, so Gabriel volunteered to send him proof of life, so to speak. The romantic aspect to their relationship started last Christmas.
Sam had never been much of a Christmas guy, but since Gabriel was, after all, an Angel of the Lord, they had to celebrate. It was pretty much just Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby hanging out in Bobby's living room where the old Hunter had set up a cozy fire and a surprisingly nice tree, which had 6 presents under it. They were drinking what they called eggnog but was really more rum than anything. Every time the drink ran out, Gabriel would pop up off the couch, shout, "Why is the rum gone!" and refill the carton. It was funny the first couple times, then it was irritating for a while. It became funny again once Sam and Bobby were sufficiently sloshed.
When Sam and Bobby woke up the next morning, miraculously hangover-free (it was literally a miracle - Gabriel did it), there were even more presents under the tree, and Gabriel was walking into the cleaner-than-it's-been-in-recent-memory living room with three humungous mugs of hot chocolate and a can of whipped cream. "Rise and shine!" he greeted the Hunters obnoxiously.
The hot chocolate was, of course, delicious. Sam had long since learned that, when it came to chocolate and miscellaneous sweets, Gabriel was practically a gourmet chef. And all the extra gifts said they were from Santa, but Sam and Bobby suspected that was a lie. "I thought we agreed on one present each," Sam complained.
Gabriel shrugged apathetically, only offering a flat, "Meh," by way of explanation.
They took turns opening presents until Sam opened the one for him that was actually labeled as being from Gabriel. It was something straight out of Harry Potter: a moving picture. Actually, it was a cross between a moving picture and a photoshopped picture because Sam, Dean, Bobby, Gabriel, Lisa, and Ben were all in the picture, dressed in Christmas attire. Lisa had her arm on Ben's shoulder; Dean had his arm on her shoulder; Sam's arm was completely around Dean's shoulders, and Bobby was standing next to Sam. Gabriel was behind Sam and Bobby, holding a sprig of mistletoe over Sam's head.
Sam looked up from the picture to ask Gabe about that last part, but was surprised to see that Gabe had pulled a Cas and invaded his personal space. He could see the mistletoe hovering magically over their heads, and he commented, "Mistletoe."
"It has a mind of its own," Gabriel insisted.
"That means we're supposed to kiss."
"Does it?" Gabriel asked, feigning ignorance. "Well, far be it for me to disregard Human traditions. Wouldn't wanna be rude." He started to lean in slowly, but Sam had a different idea.
The tall Hunter grabbed Gabriel's head, kissed him hard on the lips, and pulled him into his lap, all thoughts of Christmas morning or the third person in the room gone.
"Hey, don't paint me a picture!" Dean whined. "I get it, alright?"
"Are ya sure? I could go into more detail."
"No, really. Gabriel: good. Got it."
"Okay, well, I gotta go tell Sam what I did before he damages my floor with all that stompin' around he's doin'."
"Alright. Talk to you later, Bobby." Dean hung up his phone and set it on the table he was still leaning against.
"You know, Dean, the basement air does you well... or maybe that shower was colder than I realized. Either way, kudos to you."
"Huh?" Dean asked warily, unfazed by Gabriel's sudden appearance.
Gabriel waggled his eyebrows and looked pointedly below-the-belt.
Dean looked down and realized he was still naked. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted angrily, attempting to hide behind one of the chairs. "What's with you cornering me naked?" he demanded.
"I don't know. What's with you being unable to keep your clothes on when no one else is around?"
Dean growled, somehow managing to pull off 'menacing' while hiding naked behind a wrought iron chair.
"Never mind," Gabriel said. "I take it back. Here," he tossed Dean his pants and shirt, "get dressed."
"How generous of you," Dean snarked as he donned his jeans.
"I'm a giver," Gabriel stated with faux modesty.
Dean rolled his eyes and put on his shirt.
"Look, I didn't come here to irritate you," Gabe swore, "though it's fun and easy. And maybe just a little bit force of habit."
"Why did you come here, then? Without knocking, might I add?"
"'Cause Sammy's important to me, and I wanted to clear the air."
Dean sighed dramatically. "It's clear, alright. You two may do whatever you want to each other. Just don't tell me about it, okay?"
"Yay!" Gabriel shouted childishly, glomping Dean partly because he was excitable and partly because he knew it would annoy Dean.
"Okay, okay!" Dean shouted, protesting the invasion. "Dude, personal space!" It must have been an Angel thing.
"Sorry," Gabriel apologized, sounding not the least bit sorry. "I gotta go, anyways. Places to go, people to do... mostly Sammy."
Dean clenched his fists in frustration as Gabe popped out of the room as suddenly as he'd entered it.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean spun around, getting dizzy at the constant turnstile of visitors. "Oh," he said lamely. "Hey, Cas. Where've ya been?"
"Returning Peter to his home."
Dean frowned. "Who's Peter?"
"The squid."
"You named the squid Peter?" he asked.
"That is his name."
Dean nodded awkwardly. "Uh-huh."
"Dean?"
Dean sighed, wondering what amusing, adorable, socially inept thing would pop out of his mouth next. "Yeah, Cas?"
"Why do you have a piece of paper taped to your back that says, 'Kick Me'?"
God damn motherfucking Gabriel.
A/N: When I wanted a reason for Bobby to have sent the text, my fiancé came up with the white-noise theory. So, thank him if you enjoyed that.
