Hello Lovely Readers!
Ah, the Midnight Muse struck again tonight! I really like these little characters' bits, and I hope y'all like reading them as much as I like writing them.
No idea on canon. At some point after 2017 because the movie Baby Driver is referenced.
If someone would have asked Sam later, he wouldn't have been able to explain what had happened. The hunt for the Rugaru turned out to a pair of the monsters, a hunting pair that killed for each other and protected each other as the Winchesters came down on them. The husband had taken Sam hostage, offering his and his wife's lives for Sam's return to a furious Dean.
Dean had tackled the Rugaru and tried to take them on in hand-to-hand combat. They ganged up on him, and almost ripped him apart while Sam was sawing through the ropes he'd been tied up with. It was at that moment that the cavalry arrived, in the form of their righteously furious holy tax accountant, the angel Castiel.
He teleported behind the pair and ripped them off of Dean. White light erupted as he smote the monsters with his bare hands. As the light faded in the suburban house they'd been attacked in, Castiel had to heal Dean from some pretty nasty wounds.
They had been extremely lucky that Castiel had been there. It was one of the rare instances that he had tagged along with the boys. They were between world-ending villains, but that didn't mean there weren't still monsters that went bump in the night.
They had been at a bar for the past hour. Dean was drinking away the fear of the hunt and the close call he didn't want to acknowledge.
Castiel seemed to be berating Dean on his 'death wish,' from what Sam could lip-read from across the bar. Dean was being dismissive of the angel, throwing back shots in Castiel's concerned face.
It was a scene that had played out many times over the years, but it never failed to make Sam's chest ache. Ache for the heartbreak on Castiel's usually stoic features. Ache for the fear and loneliness he could see in his brother's slumped shoulders because Sam could see it plain as day. Yet both of them were dumbasses, too scared and too stubborn to even try.
Sam had gotten used to his third-wheel status a while ago. He'd gotten used to the Unresolved Sexual Tension between those two since the Apocalypse. But the betrayal, the heartbreak both of them wore on their sleeves, he couldn't get used to that.
He could see the potential there, he always could. They could redeem each other if they'd let themselves. The love was there-they just needed to let it show. Needed to let their guard down one more time for each other. That might have been too tall of an order after all the crap these past few years.
Waiting for his turn at the pool table, his eyes caught sight of the newer jukebox in the corner. Curiosity had him wander over to it and look at the tracklist.
Sam was reminded of a scene from a movie he and Dean had enjoyed recently called Baby Driver. The gimmick was fun-the heist movie was in sync with the music the main character, Baby, listened to. He thought of how Baby bonded with his girlfriend in the film, by listening to music through a pair of shared headphones.
He glanced over his shoulder at his sad brother and best friend; suddenly, Sam had a game plan. It was so dumb, it might actually work./p
The old biker that Sam was betting against called him back for his turn. Now needing to get his plan into action, Sam quickly shot all of the striped balls into the pockets in rapid succession without error. Then, he grabbed the fifty bucks he'd earned and gone up to the bartender for quarters.
He was going to need a lot of them.
Sam was perched on the opposite side of the bar. He'd dragged a barstool into the perfect vantage point, with the lie being he wanted to see the football game on the large TV. In reality, he had a front-row seat to his brother and angelic best friend.
The real show was about to start, and he didn't want to miss a second of it.
Nothing might come from this. It was probably too much on the nose. But, dammit, he was so tired of seeing this awkward dance-it had been years at this point. Sometimes when you were in a rut, you had to get creative to get out of it.
So, Sam embraced his chaotic little brother energy and decided the best way to make his point was to beat his brother over the head with the message as hard as possible in a language he understood.
No one else understood how dependent his brother was on the music he surrounded himself with. Those greatest hits of mullet rock were some of the only stable things in Dean's life. They were the songs they'd spent thousands of miles driving to, drinking at bars to, sleeping with people in the back of the Impala to; they were the soundtrack of their lives.
Dean might not be overly superstitious, but he felt that music could act as a sign. So, Sam was going to use that against him, hopefully, in the best way possible.
The jukebox started off easy, starting them on Metallica's Nothing Else Matters. It was a slow ballad, and Sam knew it was one of Dean's favorites. Like clockwork, he saw his brother give Castiel a grin as he started mouthing along to the lyrics. Castiel politely nodded along, but that was all.
A song about going for what you wanted, no matter how vulnerable it made you, didn't seem to sink in. Yet.
Good thing Sam had lots of quarters and an open evening.
As Metallica wrapped up, Judas Priest's song Angel came on, and Castiel's eyes opened wide at that one. He seemed to be listening to lyrics and was talking to Dean about them, apparently. His brother has his eyes looking at the ceiling, his listening face. They both seemed to like it.
The tracks continued various love ballads and anything Sam could find with an "angel' in the song title. He played Amamos la Vida by Accept. He saw Dean's shoulders relax, saw their faces get closer as they listened to the lyrics of the various songs and discussed them. Song for Angels by Crimson Glory seemed very popular with Castiel, seeing how much he was talking to an enraptured Dean.
The other patrons saw him sneaking back to the jukebox-it was one he could pay for several songs at once, so he paid for three, went back for one, etc. He kept up changing the songs so when Dean did look at him, he was innocently watching TV or playing on his phone.
The patrons glared at him for his song choices, but he didn't care. Seeing the small gap between Dean and Castiel disappear as they leaned closer to speak and listen was good progress. He paid for a rendition of Wasting Love by Iron Maiden. Again, a bit on the nose, but he really didn't want them to miss this chance. He didn't think he could try this stunt again without getting caught, so he prayed they were listening.
Just to make a point, he threw in a Simple Man from Lynyrd Skynyrd-the song explained him very well, and Castiel seemed to have caught onto that. He studied Dean in a slightly different light now. He employed that famous owlish head tilt that Sam refused to find cute for a being older than the planet.
Dean scooted over and their thighs touched under the bartop where they sat. He saw Castiel's minuscule smirk, saw them grin at each other shyly.
It was one of the newer songs that Sam really made sure to drill the point home.
He played Angel with a Shotgun by The Cab. Dean seemed to catch on that this was about Castiel. He motioned back towards the jukebox, and Castiel nodded. Castiel was talking quietly because Dean had to lean in quite far to hear whatever his angel was saying. He saw Castiel lick his lips, but Dean didn't go for it.
Come on, Dean! Sam mentally screamed. Externally, he schooled his face towards the TV with mild curiosity at the game.
Sam broke out the big guns. He wrapped up the show with a play of Dean's favorite getting laid song, Night Moves by Bob Seger.
At this point, Dean whipped around and stared at Sam. Sam was in the middle of a drink and looked back at him with an arched eyebrow. What? He mouthed.
Dean shook his head and returned back to Castiel.
Come on, you damn coward!
If Dean and Castiel hadn't been staring at each other all night, Sam's selection of Night Moves was definitely what sealed the deal. He could see Castiel sitting up straighter and Dean had a grin that was from ear-to-ear. He watched Dean lean in and say something to the angel. Something that made Castiel's cheeks flush, the red making his blue eyes pop with intensity. They were definitely sharing the same hungry look, and Castiel reached under the bar top to squeeze Dean's leg.
It was the grossest, yet most satisfying thing Sam had seen in a very long time.
As Bob Serger warbled the outro of Night Moves, Dean threw down some money on the bar top they'd been sitting at and motioned for Castiel to follow him out of the bar.
He had laid a hand on Castiel's lower back, guiding him outside-to their hotel or the trusty old Impala, Sam didn't know or care. Dean gave Sam a curious look, but motioned towards Castiel, then shot Sam a shy little grin and hopeful thumbs up.
Sam gave him an awkward wave, mentally congratulating himself. Then, he headed back up to the bar and order himself a turkey club sandwich, fries, and another beer. He even ordered a strawberry milkshake as a reward for a job well done.
He could stay in the bar for a few more hours; it was the least he could do for them.
So, what did y'all think? I really liked Sam's gumption haha.
I'm curious-what songs would you have played for the boys?
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Thanks for reading and I'll see y'all soon!