Title: The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High
Author: rons_pigwidgeon
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Dean Winchester/Others, Castiel/Others, Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Masturbation, Underage Drinking, Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Sex in the Impala, Bathroom Sex, Hand Jobs, light dom/sub play, Homophobic Language, Homophobia, Homophobic language (way to be a dick, John), canonical character death
Chapter Summary: In which Dean has an out-of-body experience, John Winchester is less of a dick than expected, and Cas finally gets to watch Dean work on a car.
Author's Note: This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Supernatural, Season 1 - Episode 3: "Dean in the Water"
As usual, because we are working within canon now, if the dialogue seems familiar, it probably wasn't written by me. This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Supernatural, Season 2 - Episode 1: "My Time of Dying" Writing Credit: Eric Kripke. I referenced the supernaturalwiki transcript (see AO3 posting for link).
Thank you to my beta, tackygoldring, for helping me with this chapter. You were beyond patient with me, and I will be forever grateful for that.
July 2006
Dean wanders into his room after a long walk around the hospital, looking for someone, anyone who can see him. He finds his father sitting at his bedside, staring at his lifeless—and just thinking about the possibility of being dead sends him into a mental tailspin—body, doing nothing. As Dean watches John watch him, Sam's words keep floating back into his head. Your son is dying, and you're worried about the Colt? Sam's right. Dean is probably dying there. Hell, maybe he already has, and he's a ghost now, and this is his eternity. Why isn't his father doing anything to stop this?
"Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there," he says under his breath. "I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything?" He steps closer, frustrated at the lack of action and because he knows his father can't hear a word he's saying. He circles the bed, proximity the key to getting the reaction he wants—or so instinct tells him. "I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I've given everything I've ever had. And you're just gonna to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?" He doesn't realize he's raised his voice, but he doesn't want to stop shouting now that he's started.
The soft sound of footfalls are what interrupts him. He turns, and the sight that meets him knocks him back a step. Cas is there, eyes wet with tears, his hair messier than usual. He's pale, slumped, with huge purple bags under his eyes. It breaks Dean's heart to see him like this. Cas' eyes are focused on Dean, trailing over the tubes and wires attached to him. He takes a few steps into the room, but stops when John straightens and turns to look at him. John scowls, but the look slowly fades as he takes Cas in. "Castiel?" he says, quiet, not quite sure.
Cas' attention flickers to John, shoulders slumping that much more. "Mr. Winchester," he says.
"Sam said he called you."
"I drove down as soon as I could get leave from work. How is he?" He takes a few steps closer. Dean shadows him, itching to reach out and touch. He can feel tension like an energy field underneath Cas' skin, practically vibrating with a need to go over and check on Dean. He stays where he is.
John looks Cas over again and nods at him, a glint of... respect? Dean is surprised to recognize the expression. "I'll let you have some time." He gets up and limps out, Cas watching him as he passes with an unreadable expression.
As soon as John is gone, Cas goes to the bed, picking up Dean's hand and perching on the bed next to Dean's hip. "Dean," he says, lifting the hand up to kiss the back of it. Dean can feel the softest ghost of his lips, but nothing more. "How could you let this happen? You're supposed to keep yourself safe. That was our deal."
"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I hate putting you through this." Dean tries to reassure him, putting a hand on Cas' lower back and kissing his neck. His hand slides right through Cas' skin. Right, of course, he remembers. Cas can't hear him. He clenches his fist in frustration.
Cas starts tracing the cuts on Dean's forehead with his fingertips, too light for Dean to feel. He watches for a long time as Cas smooths down every stray hair on his head, every wrinkle in the bedsheet, methodically straightening Dean as if the act alone will make Dean's eyes suddenly open. It breaks Dean's heart all over again. He has to walk away when the tears start falling. There's nothing he can do, and he might even be making Cas feel worse by standing there.
He wanders back to his dad's room just in time for Sammy to walk in, stiff-shouldered and glaring at the wall. The fight that follows is expected, but the vase flying across the room is a surprise. The pain that follows, a shock like being electrocuted again goes through him, and the room fades around him.
A second later he's in his own room, hospital staff working on him. Most disturbing is the thing floating over his body, reaching out to grab him. He can feel the touch of the thing, and it's isn't good. He tears at the thing, forcing it off, screaming at it to let him go. It must work, because the thing shoots past him into the hallway and away.
The girl is a lot less freaked out than he would have expected, but he takes that as a win. The last thing he needs right now is to be dealing with a hysterical civilian. She follows him for a while as he looks for the reaper, asking questions. "So, how do you know all this about… bilocation, is that what you called it?"
Dean nods, but he doesn't quite know how to answer. Should he tell her about hunting? At this point, what could it hurt? "I uh… my family, we hunt monsters, like ghosts and werewolves and stuff. I've dealt with people stuck like this before."
"Stuck?"
"Well, not stuck, but… near death, I guess?"
Tessa is quiet for a long moment. Dean keeps an eye on the hallway, checking for another sign of the creature that had been hovering over him when his body was crashing. "How long have you been hunting monsters?"
He looks back at her, a little taken aback. She's not going to freak out? Call him a liar? Ask for proof. "My whole life," he tells her. The way she looks at him, there's something behind her eyes, something he can't quite put his finger on. It's like the way Cas scrutinizes him sometimes when he's trying to decide if Dean's lying to him, but also not quite the same.
"That has to be a hard thing to give up, if you've been doing it all your life."
"I'm not giving it up."
"But what if you have to? You said you think we're close to death. What if your body doesn't get better?"
Dean shakes his head. "That ain't gonna happen. Sam will find a way to get me healed up, even if the doctors can't. We've done it before." Dean checks down the hallway, something moving quick catching his eyes. It's just a little kid, though, being chased down by a woman.
"Sam is your brother?"
"Yeah." Dean turns back to her. She doesn't have that weird look in her eyes anymore. "What about you? You got any siblings?"
She nods and tells him about a little brother of her own, but there's still something off. When Sam passes them in the hall with a brown paper bag and his shoulders tensed, Dean follows him.
Talking to Sammy over a stupid Ouija board while Cas sat at the foot of his bed, stoned-faced, was weird, but having the other comatose chick walk in as Sam is putting the board away is just embarrassing. Dean gets up and brushes his pants off, trying to make himself look as dignified as he can. When he looks up at Tessa, she's still standing in the doorway, staring. But she isn't staring at Dean. She's staring at Cas. She walks over to him while Dean watches, and then the weirdest thing happens. As she gets closer to Cas, it's almost as though Cas can sense her. He perks up, turns towards her, brows furrowed. Dean takes a step towards them both, protective of Cas without having any reason to be. Tessa's no more harmful to Cas than Avery would be.
"Who is this?" Tessa asks without taking her eyes from Cas. Cas shifts around on the bed until he's stretched out next to Dean, ear to his chest, still looking in Tessa's direction.
"That's my boyfriend Cas. Why?"
"He's… different." She reaches a hand out towards Cas, but Dean intercepts her, sliding quickly between her and the bed.
"I know, you've never seen anyone that gorgeous before, right?" Dean says, trying to lighten the look on her face.
She looks up at him in an instant, eyes wide. "You have no idea, do you?"
Dean rubs the back of his head. "How gorgeous he is? I'm aware. It's completely unfair."
She looks back at Cas once more before turning away. "No wonder," he hears her mutter as she walks out of the room. Dean is torn between following her to find out what she's talking about and staying with Cas. What the hell was that about? She hadn't even said what she wanted.
"You okay?" Sam asks Cas, who is still frowning at the door from his position on Dean's chest.
"Did you feel that?" Cas asks.
"Feel what? Did you feel Dean?"
"No—yes, but that's not what I mean. Something else was here just a minute ago. It felt… heavy."
"Like a reaper? Dean said one's after him."
"Maybe…"
"I'm gonna talk to Dad, see if he knows any way we can get Dean back." Cas nods, but doesn't move to get up and follow as Sam leaves. Dean circles the bed and leans over his back, pressing a kiss to his ear and stroking his fingers through Cas' hair, eyes focused on the door, turning over what just happened. He doesn't register for a long time that Cas is leaning into his hand.
"However hard you have to fight, come back to me please. I couldn't survive without you," Cas whispers.
Dean looks down at him, surprised to see blue eyes focused in his general direction. He knows Cas can't see him, but for a moment it feels like the staring is mutual. "I'll do everything I can, baby." He leans over and kisses Cas' cheek again, and Cas sighs and settles back against Dean's body's chest again.
Wow, how could he be this stupid? He's going to blame being basically dead on this one. As he turns the corner into the room 'Tessa' had been in, and finds her sitting against the bed. She's in regular clothes now. "Hi, Dean," she says in a frustratingly calm voice.
"You know, you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, uh, a pretty girl." He smirks at her, pushing down the anger. "You are much prettier than the last reaper I met."
"I was wondering when you would figure it out."
"I should have known. That whole 'accepting fate' rap of yours is way too laid back for a dead chick. Why keep toying with me? Why not just tell me?"
"You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."
"Okay, fine. We're talking. What the hell do you want to talk about?"
She steps closer to him, setting him on edge. "How death is nothing to fear." She touches his cheek, a chill running across his skin and down his spine. It feels like ice in his veins. "It's your time to go, Dean. And you're living on borrowed time already."
Dean pulls away, but the cold stays even when the touch stops. "I been livin' on borrowed time my whole life. Why stop now?"
Tessa rolls her eyes, but doesn't otherwise react. Dean tries another tactic. "Why'd you say that thing about Cas? What did you mean? He in trouble, too?"
"Castiel is not what I expected, but his presence makes your reluctance to cross over make all the more sense."
"You wouldn't want to leave someone that hot, either, huh?"
"Something like that."
"You're not gonna tell me, are you?"
"You'll find out soon enough, I'm sure. You're changing the subject. It's time."
Dean growls and turns away from her, digging his hands in his hair and tugging. It doesn't help. When he turns back around, she's still standing there.
"Look, I'm sure you've heard this before, but... you've gotta make an exception, you've gotta cut me a break."
She gives him a sublime smile. "Stage three: bargaining."
When Dean wakes up, he aches all over and he's exhausted even though it's obvious he's been out for days. Something heavy is laid over him. He looks down to find a messy head of dark hair on his chest. He reaches up to touch the greasy locks and big blue eyes raise up to meet his. "Dean?" Cas rasps, sitting up to look at him.
"Hey," Dean rasps back, or tries to, but the tube down his throat doesn't help. Cas is up and calling for a nurse in an instant.
Castiel is waiting outside Dean's room, impatient to see him but respectful enough of his father to give John the few minutes alone with Dean that John had given him. He doesn't hear what the two are talking about, but the low murmurs of their voices soothe him. Dean is alive and awake and once again going to be alright. That is enough of a comfort to wait a few more minutes to see him.
John appears in the doorway and pauses in front of Castiel, looking at him as if he has never seen him before. Castiel stands still, waiting. These last few days, they have had a sort of peace, driven by their mutual concern for Dean. Will this be the moment that John remembers who Castiel is to Dean?
John's mouth turns down in a frown as he settles a heavy hand on Cas' shoulder and looks him directly in the eyes. "Take care of him," he says with a level of gravity that humbles Castiel. He can do nothing but nod, held still under that gaze. John nods once, pats him on the shoulder, and walks past him without another word.
Castiel takes a moment to process what has just happened, trying to puzzle out what the meaning of the exchange could have been. It was almost as though John were saying goodbye, but that made no sense. Sam had said their father had decided to work with them. He wouldn't leave now, would he? Not while Dean is still recovering.
Cas shakes the experience off and goes into the room, happy to see Dean up and awake. Dean looks thin and fragile in the bed, still stuck with tubes and wires and bruised all over. He looks a little like he's just been punched in the chest, staring off at the far wall. He doesn't even look up until Castiel is next to the bed. The hurt shock bleeds off his face, replaced by a wide grin. "Hey you," he says, reaching up to set a hand on Cas' cheek. Cas returns his smile, leaning over the bar still raised at the side of the bed to kiss Dean gently on the lips.
"Hello, Dean," he says, putting all the happiness and relief he feels at seeing Dean awake and whole into his words. He slips onto the bed, Dean shifting over to let him up.
"Sammy said you've been hanging out a couple days?"
"Mmhmm, you've kept me waiting." He nods, reaching up to cup Dean's chin. "I'm glad you're here now." He leans in, and Dean meets him half-way. The kisses they share are soft, slow, re-learning each other, Castiel always mindful that Dean still isn't back to full health. He keeps a hand on Dean's chest, feeling the easy up and down of his breaths.
Cas looks back at his phone again, frowning. "What's wrong?" Angela asks, stepping up next to him.
He shakes his head, tucking the phone back in his pocket. "Nothing, just… Dean won't answer his phone. He just lost his father; I know he's hurting. I'm just worried, I guess."
"Did you try his brother? Or their uncle?"
"I haven't been that desperate yet. I think I will, though, if he doesn't answer by tonight." He forces a smile as a young undergrad approaches them with a pile of books and an annoyed look.
"I cannot find this book to save my life. Am I doing something wrong?" he asks, passing a piece of paper with a call number written on it. Cas pushes thoughts of Dean aside to help him.
"Dean's phone. You know what to do," Dean's voicemail reminds him without even bothering to ring.
"Dean, answer your phone, please. You've only been out of the hospital a week. I need to know you're recovering. I love you. Call me, please," Cas says after the beep.
Avery raises an eyebrow at him from the kitchen, two beers in hand. "You still pining after that moron? Ever think maybe calling him three times a day isn't working? I know he's the love of your life, but that is some inconsiderate bullshit on his part."
Cas glares at her. After living together for six years, Cas has learned to tolerate Avery's less than subtle way of handling relationship issues, but after the month he's had, he can't do it today. "Please mind your own business," he says as calmly as he can manage.
She deposits the beer in front of him a little harder than necessary and disappears down the hall. Cas will have to apologize for his rudeness later, but not right now. He calls Sam, and the news isn't good.
When Cas finds the Impala in the maze of Bobby's lot, all he can see of Dean is his bent, bowed legs in grease-spotted jeans. He takes a minute to admire the view, happy to get a view of Dean when Dean isn't aware that he's being watched. Dean lets out a loud curse and bangs something underneath the car, and Cas takes that as his cue to announce his presence.
"When I said I'd like to see you build a car from the ground up, I didn't mean for you to smash up such a beauty to do it," he calls out, leaning a shoulder against the hull of a dead Subaru.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Dean shouts, rolling out from under the car in a split second. He stares up at Cas for a full minute before saying anything. Cas lets him look, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest, waiting. "What are you doing here?" he asks finally, rocking into a sitting position and easily onto his feet. He rubs the grease off his hands onto his t-shirt as he steps over, looking confused, but not unhappy to see him.
"You weren't answering my calls. I was worried. I see you aren't dead. Thank you for letting me know."
Dean looks to the side, guilty. "I've been busy, dude. I want to get her up and running again as soon as I can. I haven't even turned my phone on in a day."
"You had time enough to go on a hunt," Cas counters, glaring.
"How do you know about that?"
"I've already been in the house. I talked to Bobby. And Sam."
"Are you mad?"
Cas looks up at him and feels a ball of frustration and sadness and grief well up inside him and shakes his head. "No, Dean, I'm frustrated. And worried. My boyfriend just lost his father, and now he won't answer his phone. All I want to do is help him, but I can't because he won't let me talk to him. What am I supposed to think?"
Dean's jaw shifts, and he looks off at something behind Cas' head. "Nothing to talk about. I'm fine."
"That's why you smashed the hell out of the trunk of your favorite possession?"
"How do you know I did that?"
"I have eyes. That damage wasn't done by a truck. You aren't fine. If you don't want to talk about it, I will accept that for now, but you aren't going to shut me out. I almost lost you. I'm not doing it again."
"So what, you're just gonna hang out here and stare me to into talking? We gonna curl up on the couch together and cry over a pint of Häagen Dazs? Maybe watch the Notebook? Not gonna happen, babe. I'm done talking about my feelings. Doesn't get me anywhere."
Cas shifts his head to the side, trying to decide how to answer him in a way that won't push him away. Finally he steps closer and rubs his hands up Dean's bare arms. Dean's always responds well to touch. "I don't know what 'The Notebook' is, Dean. I'm going to find a seat and watch you fix your car. Is that acceptable to you?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's fine. Man, I gotta get you a tv for your birthday or something," Dean mutters, turning back to the car. Cas hops up onto the hood of a dingy orange hatchback and gets comfortable. Dean's under the hood a minute later. They don't talk. In fact, the only sounds to be heard for over two hours are the bangings and clangings of Dean's tools and faint curses from Dean, peppered by the occasional request for a tool that has Cas hopping down and digging through the tool box.
Eventually, Dean rolls out from underneath the car, sweaty and even dirtier than he'd been the first time. Cas can't look away, even if he wanted to. Not that he does. Dean covered in grease and t-shirt clinging to his broad chest, soaked through in sweat, might be Cas' favorite kind of Dean. Dean bends over his beat-up old cooler and pulls out two beers, twisting the caps off and striding over to Cas. Cas takes his beer, eyes lingering on the sweat trickling down Dean's neck. "You know, the last time you looked at me like that, I got laid," Dean says, all swagger, smirking into his beer.
"I believe I have already informed you of my interest in watching you fix cars. You are… very distracting."
"Oh yeah?" He sidles closer, Cas spreading his legs to give him room.
"Yes."
"Am I gonna get laid, then, Cas?" Dean asks, leaning in so close that they breathe into each other's mouths.
Castiel raises an eyebrow at him. "How quickly can you fix the back seat?"
As it turns out, pretty quickly.
Cas rests his chin on his hands that are laying over Dean's chest with a smirk. "I had no idea a backseat could be installed that quickly."
"What can I say? You make a pretty great motivator." Dean reaches up to comb fingers through Cas' hair, smoothing one thumb over Cas' temple. Cas doesn't resist the urge to purr, rubbing his face against Dean's nipple in pleasure. When he looks back up, Dean's eyes have darkened, unfocused and sad.
"Talk to me," Cas murmurs, pressing a kiss to Dean's chest.
"Nothin' to talk about."
Castiel stays quiet, lulling Dean into thinking his blatant lie worked. He spends the time memorizing Dean's face, even as Dean looks away from him. His fingers trail up and down Cas' back, but they stop when Cas speaks again. "You know you don't need to hide things from me. You can keep your strong emotionless routine with Sam and Bobby and anyone else you want, but you don't need to do it with me." Dean starts to make the annoyed face he gets when he's about to brush off anything to do with feelings, but Cas sits up, straddling his lap and holding him pressed against the seat with both hands on his shoulders. "Dean, look at me." A stare-down follows that lasts much too long before Dean finally caves. "Talk to me."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Whatever's been going round and round that head of yours. You think you're hiding it, but I know there's something."
Dean doesn't talk for a long time, but Castiel can see the thoughts turning over behind his eyes, so he waits. Finally, long minutes later. "I'm not supposed to be here."
That wasn't what Cas had expected to hear. "What do you mean? Here at Bobby's, here with me?"
"Here on this planet. I was gonna die. I think my dad made a deal so I wouldn't."
Things started to click into place in Cas' head. John's final words, Dean's silence. "As much as I dislike the way he showed it, your father loved you very much."
"Not enough to die for me. That's not how life is supposed to work," Dean growls. He tries to push Cas off him to get up, but Cas makes himself as heavy as possible and holds on fast.
"That is exactly how life is supposed to go. Parents sacrifice themselves for their children every day. That is practically the definition of parenthood: sacrifice. John's sacrifice was just more literal than is typical, but I can guarantee you that he does not regret his choice. Don't belittle your memory of him by implying that your life wasn't worth his."
"It wasn't! It isn't. My dad was ten times the man I am."
Cas sits up, glaring hard down at Dean, holding him down with firm hands on his shoulders. "You are the hardest working, most loyal, most self-sacrificing human being I know. You have saved more lives than can be numbered. Your entire life has been a long list of sacrifice after sacrifice: for John, for Sam, for me, for complete strangers. John's purpose in hunting was vengeance, pure and simple. Yours is so much more noble." Dean is scowling, but he's gone soft under Cas' hands, pliant. Cas lifts a hand to cup his cheek, making Dean's eyes meet his. "Yours is a righteous cause. You want to help people, save them. You are twenty thousand times the better man." He leans down to touch their lips together and feels Dean's hand come up to lightly grip his hip.
"I still should be dead right now."
Cas rolls his eyes at the stubborn words. "Well, I for one am very pleased that you are not. I would have been devastated if I had lost you. I don't think I could have survived it. Think about that the next time you want to go on a moping self-loathing binge, hmm?"
Dean pushes at his shoulder, scowling again. "'M not moping."
"No, you're grieving, and that's alright. You should grieve. You just can't shut me out of it. Your father's last words to me were to take care of you. Let me."
"Dad told you to take care of me? I thought he hated you."
"Mmm, I don't think I've ever done very well at hiding my own distaste for him, either, but I think now that maybe he was just scared."
"Scared? My dad never got scared."
"He most certainly did. He was scared of losing you, just like he was scared of losing Sam to Stanford. While you were with him, you were safe, and he didn't have to feel lonely. But if you chose to stop hunting, settle down with me the way Sam chose to leave to start a life of his own, John would have been all alone. He didn't want that any more than he'd wanted to watch Sam leave."
The corners of Dean's mouth are curved downwards, but he doesn't say anything. "The point is, in the end, John wanted you to be taken care of, and he knew that I would be more than up for the task. But I can't do that if you don't let me in."
"You're in. You're more in than I've ever let anyone be."
"I know that, and I appreciate it, but I need you to answer your phone. And to not lie to me. We haven't talked about it because there were other, more important issues to be dealt with, but I do not appreciate finding out what has been happening in your life second-hand from Sam only after you are on death's door, literally."
Dean lets out a loud sigh and stretches, wiggling his way out from under Cas and right out the open cavity where the back passenger-side door should be. He grabs his underwear and jeans from the floor of the car and pulls them on, looking around for Sam or Bobby even though Cas had told them both it was probably not safe to come looking for them until at least dinnertime. It is clear from Dean's expression that the conversation is over, at least for the moment. Cas sighs and pulls on his own clothes, deciding to let the matter go. He resumes his place on the hatchback so he can keep watching Dean work.