DanceInAHurricane
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Sam put his hands up slightly, trying to diffuse some of the tension. "It's him. I've run him through every test we know how to do."
"No, Sam. It's just Lucifer." Dean closed his eyes. "It's just a dream."
Sam's face scrunched. "No Dean, it's not."
"It always is." Dean waited. Every night he has the nightmare. He gets the call and goes running. He's on a case and he sees him. A hundred variations on getting Cas back, and it's always Lucifer.
"Not this time."
(Way #1 the finale could have been better)
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Bookmarked by DanceInAHurricane
07 Jun 2026
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Dean has had bad hangovers before, has woken up in a dicey situation or two, but waking up inside the corpse of his dead best friend is a new one.
Written for the PCRF fic drive.
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- English
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- 7,512
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by DanceInAHurricane
05 Apr 2026
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"In a past life," the guy at the end of the bar began, "I lived in Kansas. Was a hunter. Hunted things. Hunted things." He stared into his glass, swirling the liquid.
Castiel sighed inwardly. The morose drunks were always the hardest to gauge. Some wanted sympathy; some wanted to get angry; some wanted to be cheered up. Some just wanted to talk.
This guy wasn't sloppy-drunk, at least. Didn't seem particularly drunk at all, really, though in general hitting the whiskey at 6:30 on a Tuesday afternoon wasn't a good sign.
And anyway, Cas was perfectly willing to admit, if he had to play bartender-therapist, it's nice when his patron-patient's disgustingly attractive.
- Language:
- English
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- 34,424
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- 21/21
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Bookmarked by DanceInAHurricane
22 Mar 2026
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Dean keeps insisting Castiel do things that humans do; sometimes Castiel is grateful for this, and sometimes...not so much.
Bookmarked by DanceInAHurricane
20 Mar 2026
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Dean stands abruptly, and beelines for the door. He doesn’t give a shit if it’s raining or not, he needs out.
He shoulders past Cas but only makes it two steps before a hand grabs his wrist, snatching him back. Cas’ eyes are alight with the blue glow Dean’s only ever seen right before he smites something into the next century.
Dean finally pushed too hard, asked for too much.
He swallows thickly, waiting for the wrath of god to come down on him in this rickety motel room. But there's no bolt of grace, no divine intervention. Instead, Cas stops his heart a different way, crowding into his space and crushing their lips together.
Bookmarked by DanceInAHurricane
06 Mar 2026