fic, Supernatural: That's How You Know He's Your Love 1/3 (Dean/Castiel, various), PG13
Okay. Er. This is crack.
Title: That's How You Know He's Your Love
Pairings/Characters: eventual Dean/Castiel and Sam/Anna (also Sam/Castiel and Dean/Anna); Lucifer, Crowley, Gabriel (sort of), Ben, most of the characters appear.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 10000 this part, around 30000 overall.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is most definitely not mine, and Enchanted is Disney's. The only thing I provide is the crack.
Warnings: sort of voluntary mocking purple prose in the fairytale-ish bits, Gabriel is the chipmunk (yes, that's a warning in itself), possible fluff overload (but you've seen the source material, right?), crack-ish stuff, hell, this is a fusion with a goddamn Disney movie. This is definitely not to be taken (too) seriously.
Summary: Enchanted fusion wherein Castiel falls from Heaven into New York City because of evil king Lucifer, Dean is the cynical single father divorce attorney whose life changes when they meet, Sam is a prince who is definitely intent on finding his beloved who was stolen from him, and Gabriel, even if he's a chipmunk, is definitely the sanest of the bunch.
A/N: this is a (hopefully decent) birthday present for wandersfound, who stuck the idea into my head and then since her birthday was close and I am indeed a crazy person so I decided I'd write it. To my defense, I cut out all the cute animals and cut down 95% of the singing and tried to trim the sugar as much as possible, but the base plot is that one. And I have it all written but I suck at being brief so I'm splitting it in three parts which I'll post in three days. Er. I said it, but don't take this seriously. Really. Part II, Part III.
Once upon a time…
Okay, right, that would be the obvious start since this is a fairytale and all, but since our story is not set that far in time, let’s just start from scratch again. You got the drill anyway, right?
So, our story starts in a magical kingdom called Heaven; and well, it was called Heaven not only because it really was a small paradise in itself (only villages, a lot of trees and flowers and streams, no pollution, animals talking, no wars, all the inhabitants being happy, slightly boring, you get how it is), but also because if it was called Hell it wouldn’t be a fairytale, it would be a horror movie. Anyway, Heaven was a small, peaceful reign, and had been so for a time so long that no one could remember when the last war had happened, if one ever happened at all; at the time of our story, it was ruled by a sort of young-ish king, at least for fairytale standards, named Lucifer, who wasn’t even bad at his job if only for his constant fear; that he would lose his reign to his step-brother.
See, the former king already had a younger son when he married Lucifer’s mother (who was Queen of a nearby reign named Limbo; not every place can be Heaven anyway and it wasn’t so bad, not really), but since the former king and queen had both died in a terrible carriage accident, since Lucifer was the oldest, he was the one ruling the country. But technically the one with the rights to the succession was his step-brother, in case he married. Which was why Lucifer had spent a lot of time making sure that his step-brother would not meet a girl suited for marriage and why he had assigned to one of his servants the task of preventing the young prince from finding a fiancé. The servant, by the way, was named Crowley and had a sort of crush on the king, which was indeed justified since Lucifer was a very good looking man, with short blond hair, clear eyes the color of ice and a body which was compact and well built and looked indeed hot in jeans.
The young prince, whose name was Samuel (though for everyone, friends and enemies, was Sam), wasn’t bad at all himself: he was very, very tall, with soft floppy brown hair, two huge eyes of the same color, a dimpled smile which always made ladies swoon and an innate attitude to save people built in his DNA. He didn’t have an idea about his step-brother’s troubles with succession; actually, he was convinced that the succession was actually Lucifer’s and that was why he spent most of his time hunting monsters (and saving peasants), which was an activity that made Sam feel indeed realized. Still, he dreamed of finding a suited maiden for him one day, one with whom he could share a true love’s kiss, who would be the second half to his heart and whom he’d cherish and whom would cherish him (and well, Sam was an extremely likeable person and he was sure he would find her... eventually).
And one day, while hunting for a very nasty wendigo (because usually in fairy tales you have trolls, but hey, our kingdom is named Heaven, you can’t have trolls; you have supernatural creatures), he found that person, except that said person most definitely wasn’t a maiden.
He was more of an angel, and as you probably noticed from my smart phrasing, not a she.
Alright, Castiel wasn’t technically an angel because even if our kingdom’s name is Heaven it isn’t what you think Heaven is; but in his village everyone called him thus because he was such a nice, gentle and selfless soul (and always had been) that the nickname had come just naturally.
Castiel was a very, very pretty man, whose age we can’t reveal because in fairytales you just don’t share that information but whatever, he was older than twenty-five and younger than thirty-five; he lived in this small but tidy house just outside his village, alone but for the company of his pet chipmunk Gabriel (who, since we’re in a fairytale, could talk and sometimes talked even too much, but hey, it was company). Sadly, Castiel had never met his father (which always was a sore point for him, even if he had given up hope of ever finding him since his mother had died when he was very young and he never had anything to start searching from), but he was on great terms with all the people in the village and lived a pretty good life, after all. He had a house, he had company, he was able to sustain himself by sewing his own clothes and selling them and the such, and while doing it, he spent his time dreaming about finding his true love.
See, Castiel was a profoundly romantic person who firmly believed in happily ever after and that good things do happen; his nickname probably also came from his very, very strong optimism on the matter. He didn’t exactly have an ideal person, you know, it was just that he hadn’t met him or her (gender didn’t really matter to Castiel; what mattered, was the soul) yet. But he was confident that one day he would, and he just couldn’t wait for it. He longed to hold that person and share a true love’s kiss with them, and Gabriel knew enough about Castiel’s opinion on the matter; sometimes he thought he’d just strangle himself with a nut if Castiel kept on ranting about how a true love’s kiss is the most powerful thing in the world, but then again Castiel was still the one person who picked him from the side of the road five years ago when he had a broken leg because a damned carriage ran him over and had cared for him and hadn’t thrown him out of the house after, not to mention that he seemed to enjoy Gabriel’s company more than the rest of his family ever did. So Gabriel never strangled himself, but then again if he had this wouldn’t be a fairytale because in which fairytale the obligatory talking animal commits suicide?
Right. It never happens.
So, on the fateful day when everything in everyone’s lives changed, Castiel was cleaning his living room, humming softly some tune that had been stuck in his head for a while, because Castiel enjoyed singing while doing domestic chores (and at least he had a good voice, and Gabriel was thankful for it). Gabriel was munching on a nut when Castiel suddenly stopped while clearing away a bit of dust from a bookshelf.
“Is something wrong?” Gabriel asked, mindful not to choke on the nut.
“Wrong? Oh, no. It’s just, I had that dream again last night. It was just so nice,” Castiel answered, thoughtful, and Gabriel went ahead for another nut. He didn’t exactly wish to hear it again since he knew it by heart; basically, Castiel was doing something random, he bumped into the man of his dreams, they shared a true love’s kiss and they eloped etc. etc. etc. He was about to sigh and bite into another nut, ready to listen to the whole story again, when Castiel just shook his head and opted to open the window and get on with his cleaning.
He couldn’t have known that Prince Sam was nearby, trying to find this very nasty wendigo which he had almost cornered; but the wind was blowing in the right direction and Castiel was humming with his window open and Prince Sam didn’t fail to hear him.
“Crowley,” he asked turning to his companion, who was following him as always, “did you hear it? Such an enchanting voice… but… it comes from the direction the wendigo went!” Prince Sam exclaimed before mounting on his horse and racing from where the voice came from; Crowley just sighed and well, his job was to avoid the prince finding a bride and a bride is usually female, so he wasn’t too worried about it.
Poor bastard, you’re probably thinking by now, and you’re also probably right, but let’s get back to Castiel, Sam, Gabriel and the wendigo.
It went like this: Castiel had his window open and the wendigo tried to grab him from outside; Sam managed to scare it for enough time for Castiel to try and climb out of the window on tree near his house, but the wendigo was set on eating him and kept on shaking the tree; so Sam opted for throwing his sword towards the branch Castiel was hanging from and since he had a perfect aim, the edge of the blade arrived straight where the edge of the cuff of Castiel’s shirt was, so that he would be safe hanging from the tree even if he couldn’t feel his hands anymore.
Then he quickly dispatched the wendigo burning it, easy as pie, and then the cloth of Castiel’s cuff ripped and while Gabriel was indeed a very strong chipmunk, he wasn’t enough to hold Castiel up.
And so Castiel fell down and oh, it was such a huge height, he couldn’t possibly make it, and well, it really shouldn’t have been how…
His thought never was completed because instead of smashing down on the ground, strong hands caught him before he could and he found himself gracefully caught in the arms of the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his whole life. Those arms were so strong and sure as they held him still, and there was something just charming about the openness of the man’s, wait, prince’s face, at least from the clothes Castiel figured he would be one, and about the warmth of his wide hazel eyes. And oh, he had lovely hair, brown and shiny and slightly long, and smiling and pink lips, and that smile, oh, it was so blinding, and the dimples in his cheeks were quite adorable. Without a doubt, this was the man of his dreams.
Castiel couldn’t know that at that same moment, Sam was wondering how could such a wonderful creature fall from the sky right into his arms. The man he had caught had the most beautiful eyes Sam had ever seen, wide and of a such clear, transparent blue, and he was looking at him with such an intense stare that Sam found it hard to sustain. And meanwhile his pale skin was a perfect match with those eyes and his dark brown hair, not to mention two pink, full lips that begged to be kissed and a body which while not exactly muscular was compact and perfectly built. Sam had always thought he would find himself a girl to marry, but right now he felt like he could very well change his mind; how could someone find a fairer person to cherish all of their life?
(They were both also thinking about how spectacular would the sex between them be, but let’s skip this for now. This is a fairytale and fairytales aren’t rated NC17, even if that would probably be an interesting development.)
After about a minute of intense staring, Castiel finally found it in himself to actually talk.
“It’s you,” was all he could muster, still mesmerized by the sight in front of his eyes.
He didn’t really catch the way Sam shivered when he heard the sound of Castiel’s voice: low but soothing, warm and rough at the same time, and if he was decided first, now he was damn well convinced.
“Yeah. It’s me. I’m Sam, by the way. And you?”
“I’m Castiel,” came the answer, and Sam nodded, figuring that such a special creature should have a special name.
“Castiel! Well, since we stated this... I suppose that we could be married tomorrow morning?”
Castiel’s heart stopped beating for a second as a healthy blush reddened his pale cheeks.
“I would wish for that. Very much.”
The right corner of Sam’s lips twitched in a small smile and he nodded as he started his horse for the palace.
Gabriel, who had observed all the scene, was quick to follow them. Damn, Castiel finds his true love and he shouldn’t be there to witness the wedding, at least?
Nonsense.
When Crowley realized what happened as soon as Sam was back with the beautiful stranger, he sighed. Heavily. He was in trouble.
Bloody trouble.
(By the way, sorry for all the language. I know, I know, but give me a break. Fairytales are hard to write. Duh.)
--
Thankfully for Crowley, Lucifer was mostly understanding. After all he wasn’t really too evil, he just wanted his reign for himself, thank you very much. Also, he had never suspected that Sam should have such tendencies, not that he minded or whatever, and poor Crowley was told to keep him from finding a bride, not a groom.
Nonetheless, Lucifer was going to take good care of this whole mess, and Sam would have to deal. He felt kind of bad, kind of, but then again it was all for a good reason. Also, pretty boy angels never were his thing.
--
So, the next day, as agreed upon, Castiel was at the palace’s doors, wearing his best set of clothes (a dark blue set of embroidered corduroy trousers and jacket with a silk white shirt that definitely matched his eyes and hair and basically, made him look extremely hot), Gabriel trailing slightly behind. He had confided the chipmunk that he was a tiny bit nervous, even if he was on his way to fulfill his dream, and Gabriel had answered that of course he felt nervous, he was getting married to a damned prince, that wasn’t a thing that happened every day, and then he wished he had some nuts to eat. He figured he would steal some dessert after the wedding, because if there wasn’t a reception then seriously, that’d have been a lame, lame wedding.
And while he was thinking about what kind of dessert exactly he wished to eat, he realized that Castiel was already inside and someone had closed the door.
Ah well. He sighed and started climbing the tree nearest to the first window. One way or the other he was going to get in.
--
Castiel couldn’t help feeling awed as he stepped inside, along the path that Sam had assured would lead him inside where he would have been waiting; it was such a big palace, and the garden he found himself in was so luscious and green, and he really couldn’t believe he would live in such a beautiful place. He swallowed, following that nice Crowley person that was guiding him towards the entrance when suddenly a handsome man, dressed in black, with short blond hair and blue eyes, appeared in front of him effectively stopping his walk.
“Oh my, you must be the one Sam’s going to marry, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am, and I actually think I might be running slightly late, so...”
“You absolutely aren’t, don’t worry. And I believe that you will accept wishes from Sam’s brother, won’t you?”
Castiel blushed slightly as he nodded, clearly feeling overwhelmed. A pity; Lucifer was really starting to feel kind of bad. Still, his throne was his throne.
(And appreciate that the bad guy has some feelings here, dammit.)
“And would you accept a wedding present from me, before joining Sam? He knows about it, so he won’t say anything if you... run slightly late.”
“Oh. Well. When you put it this way, then I would be honored to...”
“Splendid. Then follow me. Please.”
The man had a soothing voice that dripped sincerity; Castiel nodded and followed him on the left, until they reached a well, full of clear water.
“What’s this place?”
“That’s a magical well. It... grants your wishes. You just have to say yours aloud as you look down into it and then it’s bound to come true. It will happen just once for everyone, so I would advise you to choose wisely,” the man said before leaving Castiel’s side and getting behind him.
The poor man didn’t really see it coming; but after all, he was a trustworthy person by nature, and it seemed such a beautiful gift to give him upon his wedding day. So he smiled just a bit and looked down the well.
“Then... well, I hope that we’ll live happily ever...”
And then two strong hands pushed him down.
No one noticed Gabriel watching the scene from a tree and running to search for Sam, because he wasn’t an idiot and he was pretty sure that he couldn’t fight against... that guy. He was just a chipmunk, dammit.
--
Lucifer felt kind of bad, again, but that had been necessary. Sam would probably just brood for a couple of days and then search for a rakshasa to kill, or something.
“Where did you send him?” Crowley asked, looking down the well.
“Oh, nowhere special. Just... a place where there aren’t happily ever afters. You want to call it hell, you’re absolutely free to.”
Crowley chose to ignore the small smile tugging on Lucifer’s lips and he just hoped for that poor guy’s sake that he’d survive. After all, for the fifteen total minutes he had talked to him, he hadn’t seemed like a bad lad at all.
--
The fall was long, dark and fast and Castiel really didn’t have the time to fully realize what had happened until he found himself in a place which was small, dark, smelly and mostly wet as he opened his eyes. He took a shaky breath, feeling somehow changed; he didn’t know how it happened, why it happened or what had gone wrong, but he knew that this was definitely not Heaven. It didn’t feel like it at all. He took another shaky breath and forced himself to think. Surely Sam was going to come for him, but meanwhile he should try to figure out where he was and what to do. He turned on his back, realizing that his nice, silk shirt, along with the corduroy trousers and jacket, were getting soiled by... whatever dirt was in this hole; he sighed, searching for the only, dim source of light. He found that it was above his head, coming from four holes in the shape of lines. He stood up and pushed the metal in between the holes, amazed to find that it was actually moving; soon enough, he had shifted a heavy, circular cover and realized that he could move out of the hole he was in, since the opening was wide. He looked up and saw a huge and confusing amount of light; he put his hands on the border of the circle and pushed himself up.
He found himself in a road which was like nothing he had seen before; it was covered in some strange, dark material which felt nothing like earth, all the buildings were too tall and their lights were too strong and you couldn’t see stars, and everyone else around was looking at him oddly, even if they were the ones who wore odd clothing, at least for his standards. His ears were attacked with sounds he didn’t recognize and he just stood in the street, not realizing what he should do, until he heard a screeching sound and some kind of honking and noticed that some huge, ugly machine was running in his direction and was probably going to kill him or something like that, and so he ran out of its way after letting out a scream of surprise.
Just so that he ran in the path of another metal trap, just smaller, and of another, and of another, and then he heard a lot of people screaming things like watch where you’re going, you asshole or what the fuck do you think you’re doing and idiot and public menace and they were all directed at him and he just couldn’t realize why; but he figured he’d be safe if he reached the side of the street where everyone else was and indeed, when he did no one was trying to run him over again. He let out a small breath of relief, wishing that Sam was here and wondering where did he end up; it didn’t last, since the crowd basically swallowed him and no one answered his questions (please, could you tell me the way to Heaven? Please, I don’t know... I’m not... I don’t... where am I?) and screaming for Sam didn’t help either.
He found himself pushed down some stairs and inside a nightmarish mean of transport which didn’t look at all like a carriage and which traveled underground and which was positively make him going to faint before the crowd swallowed him again and he found some stairs that he hoped would at least get him out in the open.
They did, but it was in a road not at all similar to that first one; actually, it was completely empty and the houses looked pretty grim and they weren’t as high or shiny as the ones he had seen before. He called for Sam again, getting no answer except a scream out of one window which said that he should cut that crap because someone’s trying to sleep in here, goddammit, and Castiel promptly did since he figured that he was not going to find help that way. He gave another look at himself; his shirt wasn’t pristine anymore but definitely soiled, the hems of his trousers were damp with water and his jacket wasn’t protecting him from the chill. Not to mention that whatever had dirtied it before didn’t smell good. Not at all. And no one was around.
After a second, he heard a sound of thunder and another second later it started to rain; cold water hit his face and hair and shoulders and he felt so helpless he could cry; what he was going to do, like this, stranded, in a place whose name he didn’t even know? He sighed, wrapping the jacket tighter around his shoulders, and started to walk. Maybe if he did he could find a familiar place, could he?
He certainly hoped so. And at the same time, he had never felt so alone.
--
“There’s no way you’re taking Hank with you!”
“Goddammit, it was mine and I will damn well bring it with me!”
“Not over my fucking dead body!”
Dean Winchester sighed and for the hundredth time today wondered why the fuck did he ever switch to this.
When he had to use his blood in order to repay his college debt, when picking law, he had imagined he’d do it with something a little more worthwhile than this. He wanted to help people, maybe work in the civil field, maybe mass actions, maybe even be one of those people who did civil in the mornings and worked for charities in the evenings, not to be a fucking divorce attorney.
Because, sorry to say, being a divorce attorney? It sucked. It sucked a lot, and while he knew perfectly why he had switched to that (it helped paying his debt a lot faster and it granted more money, and safer money, and quicker money) he still felt like this was just a goddamn waste of time. Especially when people like his current client, Tamara Walker, had been fighting for two hours with her soon-to-be-ex-husband Isaac about this Hank, which sadly wasn’t the family dog.
That’d have had at least a lick of sense. He was just waiting for the other divorce attorney, Gordon Walker, with whom he had sort of been in class with back in pre-law at NYU and even was Isaac’s brother, just to make things easier, to actually find out that hank was the nickname for a baseball card.
Jesus fucking Christ almighty.
Even if they were all but friends, Dean and Gordon shared a hopeless look before finally Jo, Dean’s secretary, knocked on the door and gave him his way out of that mess. Since Isaac and Tamara were way too into their arguing to even notice, he turned to Gordon, told him he had stuff to do and if please they could meet tomorrow at nine, and when he got a positive answer he nodded in relief and ran the hell out of that room.
This so wasn’t the job for him, and it was definitely going to drive him fucking crazy, and he didn’t have no damned choice anyway. Not for the next ten years, at least.
“How the hell can you even want to marry?” Jo asked, shaking her head slightly. “I mean, after working with that every day.”
Dean shrugged not looking at her, even if he was secretly thankful for her presence. After the fling they had once when he still was an assistant to the owner of the firm, who had retired a couple of years earlier, they had settled on a sort of nice friendship without too many strings attached which was just great for Dean, since it’s not like with a kid to raise and a job like his you got time to be friends with many people.
“That’s people marrying on a fucking whim,” he answered as he picked up his coat, “me and Anna aren’t. We’re rational. We have known each other for quite some time. We know our strengths and weaknesses. It won’t turn out like that.”
“Yeah, sure, and it sounds like you’re building a damned bridge, Dean. You told Ben yet, at least?”
“I’ll do that tonight. Wish me luck there. I mean, he likes her so I think it won’t be a problem, but still. Argh. I should actually call her too, dammit. That whole mess...”
“Dean, you should actually go on vacation if you ask my opinion. Or go to my mom’s and have a night out. But whatever, I won’t say anything else. Good luck with everything.”
“Thanks, Jo. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure. Have a good evening, okay?”
She squeezed her arm and he nodded at her before stepping out; and damn, his dad’s ’67 Chevy Impala wasn’t really made to be parked in some crowded alley in New York City. She was made to be on the goddamn road every day, but really. One gets what he can. He let his hand caress the handle of the front door for a second before getting in and starting for Ben’s school, hoping that he wasn’t going to be late because of the traffic.
Not that the kid would ever complain, and Dean did love him for that, too, but still. He hated being late and he hated his job making him being late. He also wished that Lisa was still here, but you can’t have everything now, can you? Then again, if she still was there, he maybe would have been able to quit the divorcing, and there wouldn’t have been Cassie and that would have been just fucking peachy, but Lisa was Dead and Cassie was a sort of closed chapter which still hurt like a damned bitch and even if the kid wasn’t technically his, he was his in every damned other way and he wasn’t going to fuck his upbringing up. Also because Dean knew a couple of things about how growing up without a mother feels like and he was set on avoiding that at any costs. Besides, Anna was a lovely girl and she was nice and she really did want to marry him and she was sweet and even if he didn’t love her the way he had loved either Lisa or Cassie he was pretty sure it wasn’t the same thing for her either.
And sincerely, rather than the perfect ending, he’d rather have a good ending, and this one seemed the best he could hope for, and that was what he was thinking as he pulled in front of the school. Thankfully he was on time. He was actually square on time, since he heard a bell ring faintly ten seconds after he stopped. He turned off his Zeppelin tape (listening to music in the car was something he kept for himself only, thank you very much) and waited for the kid to get out, which happened in a minute or so, and when as soon as he was into the car Ben raised an eyebrow at him which he always did when he knew that something was wrong with Dean, Dean wondered if eight-year-olds are supposed to read you this well.
“Hey,” he said as he started the car again, “how did today go?”
“Fine,” was the answer with a shrug of shoulders, “usual stuff, had a test, I think it went good, Katie’s still annoying but whatever. What ‘bout you?”
“Nothing special. I mean, usual stuff too. Two cases, lots of stress, Jo says I need a vacation...”
“Well, she’s right.”
“Yeah, sometime in the next century I will. Listen, there’s something I gotta tell you. No, I’m not quitting the job by the way.”
“Pity,” Ben answered, and Dean just shook his head biting back a laugh. His kid: the only kid in existence who wants his dad to change his job asap even if he makes a good amount of money. Whatever.
“No, me and Anna are... I’ll ask her to marry me. One of these days.”
Ben stared at him as Dean stopped at a traffic light and rain started to pour heavily.
“Uh. Well. I was sorta expecting it. I mean, you date her and stuff. And, well, she’s nice, I guess. But.. are you sure?”
“What do you mean, am I sure?”
“I mean, I remember how it was with Cassie and... I just, you and her aren’t really... oh, well, I guess it’s okay.”
“Are you okay with it? I mean, you two don’t know each other very well, but I thought she could bring you to school tomorrow?”
Ben nodded again, not looking too enthusiastic but at least he wasn’t openly disliking the idea either.
“Cool. Right, guess it could work. Her car isn’t as cool as this one though.”
Well, it did show that he raised the kid up.
“No car is as cool as this one. Right, well, I guess that before I call her tonight we could get Chinese?”
“Oh, yes! Please, dad, really?”
“Sure thing,” Dean answered as he drove on. He didn’t like Chinese as much truth to be told, but hey. Sometimes it’s worth it.
And that was when Ben suddenly grabbed his arm.
“Dad, is there an angel over there?!”
--
Castiel kept on walking under the pouring rain, his chill becoming progressively worse and his shivering likewise; he hadn’t noticed any place that looked like sanctuary and he was pretty sure he was going to run into a great trouble soon if he didn’t find a solution.
That was when he saw it; a sparkly, shiny sign that said Heaven in great, yellow-switching-on-red-switching-on-pink letters, on the second floor of a building, with a ladder bringing up to it.
Castiel was so overjoyed to see it that he didn’t pay attention to the two huge (fake) wings made of small colored lights that were on the sides of the H, nor to a sign on the door on the ground floor which stated first thing that this Heaven place was a brothel and second thing that it was closed for renovations until the next month.
He just climbed up upon the ladder and stood in a position in front of the H from where the wings seemed to sprout right from his back. And then knocked on the closed window. Repeatedly. And then again. And again. And then there was no answer.
He didn’t even hear the car passing by.
--
“The fuck did you say?” Dean said, stopping the car abruptly. “Angels don’t exist!”
His mother used to tell him that before she died when he was four. He had pretty much stopped believing in angels since then.
“Well, yeah, but look there!”
And right. A guy dressed in corduroy banging like crazy on the window of a fucking brothel in which Dean hadn’t set foot in ages standing like that with the fake wings in front of him? Well. Yeah. That beat all the kinds of weird Dean had seen in the last ten years or so.
“What the fuck?” he shouted as Ben got out of the car, picking an umbrella from the backseat.
“I dunno, but...”
“Damn, I’d say it was an advertisement, but they’re closed, goddamn...”
“Dad, he could fall down. I mean, it rains. And he’s up there, I dunno if...”
“Right, fine, fine, we’ll check this out. Hey!” Dean shouted as he went forward and realized that the guy was asking for some prince Sam. What, again?
“Dude! You up there! What the hell are you doing, you could fall down!”
The guy turned towards them and Jesus, he was drenched, but he also looked like Dean was the first person who had fucking realized he existed in a long time.
“Oh, hello!” he said from up there, his voice deep and rough and relieved. What the hell? “I was wondering if maybe you...”
And then he put his foot the wrong way and slipped; he barely got time to grip the rail in order not to fall.
Dean handed Ben the umbrella, cursing in his head as he ran forward and the guy let out a scream.
“Hey, hang up there! Dammit, don’t...”
No such luck. The guy did manage to hang on to the rail he had been standing on for a second, but then he let out another scream and fell down and really. It was fucking high.
“Dad, catch him!”
It wasn’t like he had needed Ben to say it out loud, but Dean did it anyway and he barely managed to catch the guy before his brains got splattered all over the sidewalk; except that he was fucking heavy and dragged Dean down with him and they both ended up on the ground, the guy hitting his back and Dean hitting his arm, not to mention a half-sprained wrist, but at least they were both alive.
“What the hell were you were thinking when you went up there?” Dean asked, even if he felt like an ass just right after because dammit, the dude looked like a goddamn drenched baby bird, strange clothes and all, and he was staring at him with two wide, blue and damn hopeful eyes and it just sounded like he was kicking a puppy.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked instead, and at least it had stopped raining.
“Oh. Well. Yes. Mostly. I am fine, thank you very much. And about what I was doing up there, I was merely searching for help, but I gathered that it seems like I am not going to get any.”
“And why there?”
“Oh, because Heaven is the place I come from. And I have been wandering very far and long tonight, and I am sad to say that... no one has been very nice to me,” he answered deadpan, and Dean didn’t want to know how crazy the guy was. Fucking Heaven?
Then again, he was pretty sure there had to be a town in Georgia or Kansas or something called Heaven or Haven. Maybe he meant that. No way he meant actual heaven.
“Well,” he said shrugging, “welcome to New York City.”
“Thank you,” the guy answered, and it was... actually sincere? Like he completely didn’t understand that it wasn’t supposed to be taken seriously.
Jesus Christ.
“Listen, you sure you’re okay? Maybe I could call somebody for you?” Dean asked, because the guy still looked like the lovechild of a kicked puppy and a drenched baby bird and he just wasn’t going to leave him there like that, even if he obviously wasn’t completely sane.
Then again, he didn’t seem dangerous either.
“Oh. Yes. But... I’m not sure they’d hear you, even if you called.”
That was when another thunder started, and when Dean lowered his stare and met Ben’s. Ben nodded. Dean sighed. He couldn’t resist the guy’s face along with his son’s face when it was sort of pleading but not really.
Dammit. He knew they were going to take him home. He just hope the backseat of his baby wouldn’t get too drenched.
--
“... and so Sam’s brother showed me this well and told me that if I wished what my heart desired most it would come true, but I must have leaned down too far because I... I fell and then I found myself at the bottom of this round hole, I climbed out, I... we could say I got myself very lost, and then I was lucky enough to meet you two and... here I am,” Castiel (or so he introduced himself, and according to Dean it was just fitting that a weird guy like that should have a weird name like that) said as they got out of the elevator of Dean’s condo and Ben walked them until the door of the apartment. He talked quietly but making it sound like it was actually true stuff and Dean couldn’t really wrap his head around it.
He set for the only logical answer, aka making fun out of it.
“So, you have an habit of falling off stuff?” he asked, even if his tone was way less sarcastic than he had in program.
“Oh, well, usually there’s someone around who catches me,” Castiel answered deadpan as Dean opened the door, and dude. Dude. Seriously. Lame. Lame.
“But don’t worry,” Castiel added then, “I am sure that very soon Sam will come and find me. I hope sooner than later because I do miss him quite much, and this place is just so strange.”
Right, Dean thought, let’s add that we have a guy who seems jumped out of a fairytale book and he has a prince and not a princess. He hadn’t known that fairytales featured gay couples these days but then again, what did he know? He never read any past the Brothers Grimm anyway.
“And I wish I could share a true love’s kiss with him again, it only happened once and we should be married now, but...” Castiel whispered again, sounding actually fucking sad. Except that Dean’s head was stuck on another point.
“A what?”
“A true love’s kiss. The most powerful thing in the world,” Castiel said firmly with indeed a lot of conviction, and Dean didn’t know how in Hell it was possible that such bullshit didn’t sound ridiculous. He spared a glance in Ben’s direction. He looked actually impressed.
The hell?
“Right. Indeed. Listen, man, until your... uh, prince, comes to get you, what do you think you should do?”
“Oh. Well, I suppose I need a place to stay for the night.”
“Which kind of place?”
“I... I wouldn’t know. I can stay anywhere. I even stayed in a hollow tree once, even if a bed is rather more comfortable.”
“Right, again. Listen, if... uh, if you want to get in for a minute I can call a taxi for you, that’s the most I...”
“Oh. That. That would be so nice of you,” Castiel answered smiling a tiny smile that sort of lit his face up, and again, what the fuck?”
And then Dean realized that Ben was staring at Castiel’s jacket. Before Dean could say anything, Ben ran a hand around a hem, which was, as Dean noticed when he looked better, perfectly embroidered and with actual small flowers on the edge. And they were embroidered in detail. Dean coughed as he opened the apartment’s door.
“Dude, that’s cool. Where did you find that?” Ben asked, staring at the jacket. Castiel actually honest to God blushed.
“Oh, I sewed it myself. As the trousers. It wasn’t so hard, and I had Gabriel to keep me company.”
“Who’s this Gabriel, a friend of yours? We could call him if...” Dean said, even if it sounded way too easy to be actually true.
“He is a friend of mine, but he’s in Heaven at the moment. Also, he is not... well, he’s a different species.”
“Right. I don’t think I want to know that. Listen, if you want you can sit down, then I’ll go change out of these clothes and we’ll get a cab for you, fine?”
“Oh. Surely. Thank you again for your kindness, I...”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on Ben, that’s bed time for you.”
He pushed Ben out of the living room as Castiel sat down gingerly on the sofa.
“Dad?” Ben asked then, when they were in the hallway going towards the bedrooms.
“What?”
“Are you sure he couldn’t stay here?”
“That’s out of fucking question. No. He just... Ben, come on, you heard him!”
“Well, he’s... y’know. The way he puts it, it doesn’t sound crazy.”
“Yeah, but it is crazy. Dammit, I need to call Anna, too. Listen, if...”
“Come on, it’s obvious. He doesn’t have a place to go. You really want to throw him out?”
Damn kids and straightforward questions.
“Listen, I’ll see. If he really can’t go anywhere else he can stay the night and then we’ll figure out. But go to bed now, alright?”
Ben looked very, very smug as he nodded and ran for his room, but Dean figured that he’d just let it go for now. He picked up his cellphone and called Anna, making arrangements for the next morning; then he got rid of his coat and shoes and got back into the room.
“Man, listen, if you... oh, crap.”
Of course. Of course as soon as he was back the guy would have been passed out on the couch.
Then again, the poor bastard was drenched and whatever the hell had happened to him (even if Dean wasn’t really going to believe the whole magic well shit at all) it must have tired him a lot. Not to mention the falling off the brothel’s railing bit. Right. And he looked so peaceful while sleeping, his breath regular, his hair half-wet and falling in uneven bangs upon his pale forehead, that Dean really couldn’t bring himself to wake him up. Oh, fine. He went to his room, grabbed one of his blankets, draped it over his new acquaintance and made sure to close the door connecting the hallway to the living room as he went to bed himself.
The guy didn’t seem dangerous or psycho but you can never know.
--
Meanwhile, as soon as Sam got the news of his beloved’s disappearance, his reaction definitely wasn’t the one Lucifer had planned. He had told his brother a story about some old hag which had brought Castiel to the well before Lucifer himself could stop her, and Sam had bought it, but instead of just making peace with it and go hunting for some random changeling, he had jumped into the well himself screaming his lungs out and saying that he would save his betrothed.
Betrothed. Who had even taught Sam to talk anyway?
Not to mention that he had been followed by some chipmunk which lived with Castiel, or so Crowley had informed him. Anyway, that was so not good. There was a serious risk that Sam would find Castiel, and he could absolutely not allow it.
--
“Okay, people, let’s just close this thing, okay? Who did even open it, I don’t have an idea…”
Chuck Shurley, company workman for NYW by day and wannabe writer by night (even if he had at least two novels written and no agent or publisher, otherwise he wouldn’t work with sewers, you get it), sighed as his two co-workers nodded and they started went to get the cover of the drain which some idiotic kid had probably moved last night just so they could lose a shitload of time this morning, and Christ, Chuck hated his job so fucking much, and to think that at least this was a break from boredom…
Suddenly a wooooosh could be heard coming from inside the drain and a second later he wished for boredom. Boredom was underrated. Boredom was awesome.
Because well, it just couldn’t happen that a six feet four tall guy dressed in red velvet like a goddamn Disney prince and who actually wore a fucking honest to God sword just jumped out of the fucking drain.
“Hey, man, what are you…” Chuck started, but then the guy yelled silence!! and Chuck found himself with a sword at his throat.
Oh, fuck. He knew he shouldn’t have got out of bed that morning.
“Hey, man, easy with that thing, uh? Really, I…”
“Your name, peasant… and quickly!” the Disney-prince-in-disguise said, and well, Chuck wasn’t going to be the one pissing him off.
“Ch… Chuck, mister. Careful with that sword, just, be…”
“Are you in league with the old hag who sent my beloved Castiel to this foul place, Chuck?”
Chuck blinked once. Then again. The he opened his mouth but the woooosh noise started again and goddamn chipmunk jumped out of the drain in order to land on the Disney-prince-in-disguise shoulder.
A chipmunk, who apparently wasn’t too okay with his squealing, since he did look sort of pissed. The Disney prince didn’t though; he actually serenely turned to the chipmunk who had ran down into his free hand.
“You must be Gabriel, right? Uh, you are quite different from before, but that’s no urgent matter. Since I gather you must have seen it, can you tell me if this man part of this evil plot?”
The chipmunk looked at Chuck for a second, then positively made a disgusted face and started shaking his head, still squealing like he was actually trying to fucking talk and like he wasn’t pleased with the fact that he couldn’t.
Thankfully the Disney prince seemed to sort of gather that the answer was negative and Jesus, a chipmunk was saving his ass.
What.
Then the prince jumped forward and held the sword to Chuck’s throat.
Right.
“Alright, we established that you aren’t part of the evil plot, but don’t you dare lying to me now,” the Disney prince said from his six feet four inches and with a genuinely blinding smile.
“Oh. Sure. I wouldn’t. I’d never. I…”
“By chance, have you seen my beloved partner coming from the very same path I came from? My other half, the fairest creature you’ll ever see, and the answer to my love duet, and the most enchanting man who ever had the grace to walk this plane, and my plane?”
Chuck shook his head sadly. “Er, well, no, but even if I like women, I wish I had someone like that, man. But, er, no.”
And then the Disney prince put out the sword and actually clapped Chuck on the shoulder and gave him that totally serene smile which was seriously kind of freaking him out.
“Then keep your eyes open, Chuck. I’m sure you will,” he said before turning to the chipmunk. “Gabriel, come on!” he yelled, and then ran in the other direction and freaking jumped on the roof of a taxi and then of a car and in ten seconds Broadway was a cacophony of honking.
“You okay, man?” asked Barnes, one of the guys, and Chuck nodded shakily.
“Jesus fucking Christ, have you seen that chipmunk?!!”
Chuck Shurley hated his job. He hated his job a whole fucking lot.
And then he wondered if the Disney prince would sue him if he stole his looks for the main character of those series about the supernatural hunter he was planning to start writing sometime soon.
--
When Castiel opened his eyes, light was filling the living room and he felt pleasantly warm, which was definitely a welcomed change from yesterday’s chill; his heart swelled in gratitude as he noticed that someone, most probably Dean, had covered him with that blanket. It was such a kind gesture, and from what he had gathered this place wasn’t at all full of kind people. He shrugged it off, standing up; he felt sort of dizzy, but he figured it was all natural. After all he had ended up in another world and while he was sure that Sam would come for him, he couldn’t realistically believe that he’d come right that moment. As he stood up, he took a look around; the living room was directly connected to the kitchen and so he had a good view of the whole apartment; and well, while the living room wasn’t exactly dirty, it was just mostly untidy with books scattered everywhere, the covers for the sofas put wrongly and the floor definitely in need of a swipe, the kitchen was a mess. Castiel really didn’t recognize half of what was around him, but he knew enough and well, you just can’t stay in a kitchen where the sink is full of dirty plates and cutlery, a couple of unwashed pans is still on the table and boxes full of food are scattered all around.
Then again, Dean apparently lived alone with his son and he figured that it’d have been more difficult to tidy your house when you can’t share duties with your loved one and have to take care of someone else.
Case was, Castiel was an extremely neat person and tidying never was a chore for him; and really, after all Dean and Ben did for him yesterday, he thought that he could repay them at least a little bit.
Having taken his decision, he took his jacket off, sighing as he noticed that it was now ruined for good, and rolled back the sleeves of his shirt until his elbow; then he decided he would start with the kitchen. He reached the sink and then noticed a strange, dark box with buttons on its top on the kitchen’s table; curious, he touched the one which read on and suddenly the device lightened up and music started to blast from it. He was delighted, since after all that happened yesterday his head really wasn’t coming up with any tune to hum to keep himself distracted, and he always liked to have music while cleaning.
He also found this particular piece extremely pleasing, even if it was in a different language; nonetheless, he though as he picked up a plate, a sponge and some soap, it repeated the same words over and over after some time, and since he had a good ear, he founds himself humming softly along with the music, and with a pretty decent pronunciation too.
(He couldn’t know that it was Italian, that it was opera and that the man he was currently singing along with was trying to win his beloved, who as a profession sold sexual services for money ; then again, he wasn’t off key and if he knew that he was saying that love is the heartbeat of the entire universe, curse and delight of someone’s heart, he’d have probably agreed.)
He quickly went through the dishes, then he cleaned up the table and placed the food boxes neatly in the center since he didn’t know their original location; then he found a broom, figured out where the dirt was supposed to go and proceeded to sweep up the floor. When he was satisfied with the kitchen, he moved to the living room; there, he straightened the sofas’ covers, then put in a neat order all the paper and books on the table, then opened the windows in order to change the air as the radio kept on playing (by this point, he was still singing along with the man and telling the woman that he was extremely happy and that he loved her so much); he picked up the broom again and while it took a bit more to take care of the floor because the room was bigger, in fifteen minutes he was done and he couldn’t help paying himself a compliment. Then he realized that his back was hurting a bit, and his muscles felt sore; well, he had slept in wet clothes after all. He avoided the closed door, figuring that it was where his hosts slept and not wishing to disturb them, and turned the other way in order to see if he could find maybe a room where to refresh himself for a bit. He sighed, wishing that Sam was here with him; but then again, he thought, until he came, trying a new experience could just be worth it, right?
He didn’t notice that Ben had woken up when he had accidentally made too much noise putting a dish in the sink while he was washing them and had witnessed more or less the last five minutes of his stunt.
“Dude,” Ben whispered as Castiel disappeared in the opposite part of the hallway, “that was beyond cool.”
--
“Dad! Wake up!”
Sempre libera vegg’io folleggiare di gioia in gioia…
“Dad! Come on! Wake up now!”
Vo' che scorra il viver mio pei sentieri del piacer…
Dean groaned, wondering why the hell Ben was up before him (it never happened), why he was being so insistent and why was the radio blasting fucking opera. Right, Anna liked it, maybe it was still tuned to that classical radio station she had put it on when she was here for dinner last, and Dean likes classic rock, thank you, but why…
“DAD!!”
“Argh, comin’, comin’, what the hell’s going on?”
“You so need to see this. It’s just, you need to!”
Well. That was excitement, to say the least… Dean pulled himself up as the radio kept on blasting the goddamn Traviata.
A diletti sempre nuovi dee volare il mio pens… and then it stopped because Dean turned it off with a relieved sigh.
And then he realized that the kitchen was pristine clean and that the living room hadn’t been so neat since they moved here and that it was fucking shining.
“What?” he said, not really believing it. “You can’t have possibly done this.”
Ben raised an eyebrow and his expression said are you fucking kidding me all over.
“Nope. Someone else did.”
“Someone…”
Right. Castiel wasn’t anywhere to be seen and the jacket was carefully folded on the sofa’s arm.
“Oh, Jesus.”
And then he heard some soft humming coming from the bathroom, which was definitely the goddamn Traviata and with an accent that wasn’t half bad; he looked at Ben again.
“You actually saw him do that?”
“Yep. He was, like, a pro. Or something.”
“Right. I’ll. Uh. I’ll check. You go have breakfast, okay?”
Ben nodded even if he didn’t exactly move and Dean went to knock on the door.
“Hey? Castiel? Can I, uh…”
“Come on in!” came he answer, and Dean did, just to find himself in front of a very naked Castiel just out of a shower with just a towel covering him from the waist down, and well, duh, the man was indeed well built. Perfect proportions, and good height, and compact frame, and hair which seemed to hold themselves in some crazy kind of sexy cut, and…
What the fuck?
“Hello, Dean.”
“Er. Uh. Hi.”
“I hope you had nice dreams,” Castiel deadpanned as he dripped water on the floor, because while he had the shower figured, he obviously hadn’t figured the shower mat or anything else.
“Christ, I think I’m living in one or something. Hey, did you…”
“Oh, this room is just magical. Where does the water come from?”
Right. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Uh. Duh. The… the pipes, I guess?”
Dean faintly heard someone ringing the bell. Oh, damn, Anna was there and he…
“And how does it go in the pipes?”
“Er. I… couldn’t say,” and maybe he even knew but right now he couldn’t come up with an explanation for how sewers work.
He faintly heard Anna ask Ben if they got a maid and Ben answering not exactly.
Right. Not exactly and he had to get the fuck out of this room before…
He took a step behind, Castiel took one forward, there was water still leaking and they both tripped over it and Dean fell behind. As the door opened behind him, because he hadn’t locked it, he cursed himself for having not done it, and then he was crashing on the ground with a very semi-naked Castiel right exactly on him and not only his eight years old son watching them from a couple of feet away snickering, but he wasn’t alone.
See, Anna, his fiancé, was a lovely girl with huge, doe-like eyes and bright red hair, and if right now her face wasn’t as red and fiery and bright as that hair, Dean had never become a divorce attorney.
Oh, shit. Shitshitshitshit. He disentangled himself from Castiel, but that was too late already.
“Anna! Wait a second, I… that’s not what it seems!”
“Right,” she answered, and her voice was steel. Oops. “And then what it was?”
“It… it isn’t… he isn’t…”
“Oh, Dean, just, don’t, okay? First I never stay the night here because there’s Ben and you know, there are boundaries, and I think that it’s great because it just shows how sensitive you are, and then I find you with a man in a shower?”
“Showers are indeed most wonderful,” Castiel muttered, and Dean wished he could commit harakiri.
“Really. Yeah, I’m sure. Well, enjoy your bonding time, Dean.”
“Wait, Anna, no! Please, can we talk about this later, I…”
“No, we can’t.”
And then she was out shutting the front door behind her and… well, Ben was sort of really trying not to give into a fit of laughter and Dean hoped for him that he wouldn’t do that, and Castiel was looking at the door like he had sensed that something was wrong but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what.
Oh, fuck.
“Alright. I need some coffee first. Then I’ll deal with it. Ben, you go have your breakfast now. And you, find something to fucking dress yourself with and then we need to have a talk and possibly in a very short time. So get the fuck on with it now!”
Well. Considering that Castiel blushed and ran for the bathroom while Ben stopped trying not to laugh and ran for the kitchen, Dean probably still had it under control. More or less.
Jesus, he thought as he went to get himself a nice cup of hot and black and strong coffee.
It wasn’t like he was going to run after Anna in his pjs anyway.
As Ben got dressed, he finished his third cup of coffee and then went for the bathroom and knocked. Hard.
“Castiel! You in there? Listen, that was a mess before, and I really can’t… I mean, I know you’re waiting for prince charming or whatever…”
“Prince Sam!” came from the bathroom.
“Right, but you gotta understand that… hey, where the hell did you find that?” Dean asked as Castiel got out of the room wearing another set of black wool trousers and matching jacket and his shirt from the day before washed clean.
“Oh, I asked Ben if you had some fabric that you didn’t need, any fabric was fine, and he said there were some black curtains that someone you knew left there in a spare room and you always say you should throw them away, so…”
“Wait, you made these in twenty minutes out of Cassie’s black curtains? Oh Jesus Christ, whatever, I give up.”
“You’re sad.”
“What?”
“You’re sad. I feel it coming from you. I am sorry if…”
“No, I’m not sad, I’m fucking angry!” Dean screamed, and sincerely he couldn’t care less. “You know about anger?! That’s a nasty emotion, if…”
“I heard about it, true, but I am afraid I’ve never experienced…”
Dean took a long breath and raised up a hand.
“Right. Let’s do this the easy way. See, that thing before? I’m sure you didn’t even realize it, but you got me into a damn mess with Anna.”
“That girl before? Oh, she was just lovely…”
“Yes, she is, and I actually am about to propose to her, if you get the drill.”
“Oh, that’s just so wonderful!” Castiel fucking beamed, and Dean figured that… “So you found your true love? I’m so happy for…”
“Right, maybe not all your happily ever after crap, but the point is that you fell on me while half naked and now she’s gotten into her mind that we… that we…”
Castiel suddenly became three shades paler. “That we had sexual intercourse?”
Jesus fucking Christ, Dean was going to Hell straight, if he kept on blaspheming like this in his head. Or well. Thankfully he was an atheist. Still.
“Yeah, exactly!”
Castiel seemed positively horrified.
At least.
“Oh. That’s… oh, no, I’m so sorry! Maybe you should, well, maybe rush to her side, and sing to her, and then she’d be reassured of… Dean? Why are you staring at me like that?”
“… are you for fucking real?”
“… I… I guess so?”
“You seem just, out of a fucking Hallmark card.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
And how the hell was Dean supposed to answer considering that Castiel probably didn’t have an idea of what Hallmark even was?
Then he noticed that Ben was standing at the door, dressed, and he was still in his pjs.
Oh, fuck, he swore before running to his room to change. Castiel raised an eyebrow at Ben, who shrugged and nodded at him.
Right. Dean so didn’t want to know what they were saying without even fucking speaking.
--
So, as we had stated before, clearly Lucifer was so not going to risk the chance of Sam finding Castiel; also, he had been keeping track on the latter’s movements through his sort of dark magic (which implied, looking through the surface of the water: yeah, Lucifer was cool like that), but still, he wasn’t surely going to try going there himself.
Also, he knew that Crowley was still hoping at least for a promotion, if not something else, and he was perfectly aware of his servant’s feelings towards him, which made everything considerably easier. It took just a tiny bit of flirting and a couple of promises to convince Crowley to go after Sam, and Lucifer watched with satisfaction as he jumped into the well.
Part II
Title: That's How You Know He's Your Love
Pairings/Characters: eventual Dean/Castiel and Sam/Anna (also Sam/Castiel and Dean/Anna); Lucifer, Crowley, Gabriel (sort of), Ben, most of the characters appear.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 10000 this part, around 30000 overall.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is most definitely not mine, and Enchanted is Disney's. The only thing I provide is the crack.
Warnings: sort of voluntary mocking purple prose in the fairytale-ish bits, Gabriel is the chipmunk (yes, that's a warning in itself), possible fluff overload (but you've seen the source material, right?), crack-ish stuff, hell, this is a fusion with a goddamn Disney movie. This is definitely not to be taken (too) seriously.
Summary: Enchanted fusion wherein Castiel falls from Heaven into New York City because of evil king Lucifer, Dean is the cynical single father divorce attorney whose life changes when they meet, Sam is a prince who is definitely intent on finding his beloved who was stolen from him, and Gabriel, even if he's a chipmunk, is definitely the sanest of the bunch.
A/N: this is a (hopefully decent) birthday present for wandersfound, who stuck the idea into my head and then since her birthday was close and I am indeed a crazy person so I decided I'd write it. To my defense, I cut out all the cute animals and cut down 95% of the singing and tried to trim the sugar as much as possible, but the base plot is that one. And I have it all written but I suck at being brief so I'm splitting it in three parts which I'll post in three days. Er. I said it, but don't take this seriously. Really. Part II, Part III.
Once upon a time…
Okay, right, that would be the obvious start since this is a fairytale and all, but since our story is not set that far in time, let’s just start from scratch again. You got the drill anyway, right?
So, our story starts in a magical kingdom called Heaven; and well, it was called Heaven not only because it really was a small paradise in itself (only villages, a lot of trees and flowers and streams, no pollution, animals talking, no wars, all the inhabitants being happy, slightly boring, you get how it is), but also because if it was called Hell it wouldn’t be a fairytale, it would be a horror movie. Anyway, Heaven was a small, peaceful reign, and had been so for a time so long that no one could remember when the last war had happened, if one ever happened at all; at the time of our story, it was ruled by a sort of young-ish king, at least for fairytale standards, named Lucifer, who wasn’t even bad at his job if only for his constant fear; that he would lose his reign to his step-brother.
See, the former king already had a younger son when he married Lucifer’s mother (who was Queen of a nearby reign named Limbo; not every place can be Heaven anyway and it wasn’t so bad, not really), but since the former king and queen had both died in a terrible carriage accident, since Lucifer was the oldest, he was the one ruling the country. But technically the one with the rights to the succession was his step-brother, in case he married. Which was why Lucifer had spent a lot of time making sure that his step-brother would not meet a girl suited for marriage and why he had assigned to one of his servants the task of preventing the young prince from finding a fiancé. The servant, by the way, was named Crowley and had a sort of crush on the king, which was indeed justified since Lucifer was a very good looking man, with short blond hair, clear eyes the color of ice and a body which was compact and well built and looked indeed hot in jeans.
The young prince, whose name was Samuel (though for everyone, friends and enemies, was Sam), wasn’t bad at all himself: he was very, very tall, with soft floppy brown hair, two huge eyes of the same color, a dimpled smile which always made ladies swoon and an innate attitude to save people built in his DNA. He didn’t have an idea about his step-brother’s troubles with succession; actually, he was convinced that the succession was actually Lucifer’s and that was why he spent most of his time hunting monsters (and saving peasants), which was an activity that made Sam feel indeed realized. Still, he dreamed of finding a suited maiden for him one day, one with whom he could share a true love’s kiss, who would be the second half to his heart and whom he’d cherish and whom would cherish him (and well, Sam was an extremely likeable person and he was sure he would find her... eventually).
And one day, while hunting for a very nasty wendigo (because usually in fairy tales you have trolls, but hey, our kingdom is named Heaven, you can’t have trolls; you have supernatural creatures), he found that person, except that said person most definitely wasn’t a maiden.
He was more of an angel, and as you probably noticed from my smart phrasing, not a she.
Alright, Castiel wasn’t technically an angel because even if our kingdom’s name is Heaven it isn’t what you think Heaven is; but in his village everyone called him thus because he was such a nice, gentle and selfless soul (and always had been) that the nickname had come just naturally.
Castiel was a very, very pretty man, whose age we can’t reveal because in fairytales you just don’t share that information but whatever, he was older than twenty-five and younger than thirty-five; he lived in this small but tidy house just outside his village, alone but for the company of his pet chipmunk Gabriel (who, since we’re in a fairytale, could talk and sometimes talked even too much, but hey, it was company). Sadly, Castiel had never met his father (which always was a sore point for him, even if he had given up hope of ever finding him since his mother had died when he was very young and he never had anything to start searching from), but he was on great terms with all the people in the village and lived a pretty good life, after all. He had a house, he had company, he was able to sustain himself by sewing his own clothes and selling them and the such, and while doing it, he spent his time dreaming about finding his true love.
See, Castiel was a profoundly romantic person who firmly believed in happily ever after and that good things do happen; his nickname probably also came from his very, very strong optimism on the matter. He didn’t exactly have an ideal person, you know, it was just that he hadn’t met him or her (gender didn’t really matter to Castiel; what mattered, was the soul) yet. But he was confident that one day he would, and he just couldn’t wait for it. He longed to hold that person and share a true love’s kiss with them, and Gabriel knew enough about Castiel’s opinion on the matter; sometimes he thought he’d just strangle himself with a nut if Castiel kept on ranting about how a true love’s kiss is the most powerful thing in the world, but then again Castiel was still the one person who picked him from the side of the road five years ago when he had a broken leg because a damned carriage ran him over and had cared for him and hadn’t thrown him out of the house after, not to mention that he seemed to enjoy Gabriel’s company more than the rest of his family ever did. So Gabriel never strangled himself, but then again if he had this wouldn’t be a fairytale because in which fairytale the obligatory talking animal commits suicide?
Right. It never happens.
So, on the fateful day when everything in everyone’s lives changed, Castiel was cleaning his living room, humming softly some tune that had been stuck in his head for a while, because Castiel enjoyed singing while doing domestic chores (and at least he had a good voice, and Gabriel was thankful for it). Gabriel was munching on a nut when Castiel suddenly stopped while clearing away a bit of dust from a bookshelf.
“Is something wrong?” Gabriel asked, mindful not to choke on the nut.
“Wrong? Oh, no. It’s just, I had that dream again last night. It was just so nice,” Castiel answered, thoughtful, and Gabriel went ahead for another nut. He didn’t exactly wish to hear it again since he knew it by heart; basically, Castiel was doing something random, he bumped into the man of his dreams, they shared a true love’s kiss and they eloped etc. etc. etc. He was about to sigh and bite into another nut, ready to listen to the whole story again, when Castiel just shook his head and opted to open the window and get on with his cleaning.
He couldn’t have known that Prince Sam was nearby, trying to find this very nasty wendigo which he had almost cornered; but the wind was blowing in the right direction and Castiel was humming with his window open and Prince Sam didn’t fail to hear him.
“Crowley,” he asked turning to his companion, who was following him as always, “did you hear it? Such an enchanting voice… but… it comes from the direction the wendigo went!” Prince Sam exclaimed before mounting on his horse and racing from where the voice came from; Crowley just sighed and well, his job was to avoid the prince finding a bride and a bride is usually female, so he wasn’t too worried about it.
Poor bastard, you’re probably thinking by now, and you’re also probably right, but let’s get back to Castiel, Sam, Gabriel and the wendigo.
It went like this: Castiel had his window open and the wendigo tried to grab him from outside; Sam managed to scare it for enough time for Castiel to try and climb out of the window on tree near his house, but the wendigo was set on eating him and kept on shaking the tree; so Sam opted for throwing his sword towards the branch Castiel was hanging from and since he had a perfect aim, the edge of the blade arrived straight where the edge of the cuff of Castiel’s shirt was, so that he would be safe hanging from the tree even if he couldn’t feel his hands anymore.
Then he quickly dispatched the wendigo burning it, easy as pie, and then the cloth of Castiel’s cuff ripped and while Gabriel was indeed a very strong chipmunk, he wasn’t enough to hold Castiel up.
And so Castiel fell down and oh, it was such a huge height, he couldn’t possibly make it, and well, it really shouldn’t have been how…
His thought never was completed because instead of smashing down on the ground, strong hands caught him before he could and he found himself gracefully caught in the arms of the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his whole life. Those arms were so strong and sure as they held him still, and there was something just charming about the openness of the man’s, wait, prince’s face, at least from the clothes Castiel figured he would be one, and about the warmth of his wide hazel eyes. And oh, he had lovely hair, brown and shiny and slightly long, and smiling and pink lips, and that smile, oh, it was so blinding, and the dimples in his cheeks were quite adorable. Without a doubt, this was the man of his dreams.
Castiel couldn’t know that at that same moment, Sam was wondering how could such a wonderful creature fall from the sky right into his arms. The man he had caught had the most beautiful eyes Sam had ever seen, wide and of a such clear, transparent blue, and he was looking at him with such an intense stare that Sam found it hard to sustain. And meanwhile his pale skin was a perfect match with those eyes and his dark brown hair, not to mention two pink, full lips that begged to be kissed and a body which while not exactly muscular was compact and perfectly built. Sam had always thought he would find himself a girl to marry, but right now he felt like he could very well change his mind; how could someone find a fairer person to cherish all of their life?
(They were both also thinking about how spectacular would the sex between them be, but let’s skip this for now. This is a fairytale and fairytales aren’t rated NC17, even if that would probably be an interesting development.)
After about a minute of intense staring, Castiel finally found it in himself to actually talk.
“It’s you,” was all he could muster, still mesmerized by the sight in front of his eyes.
He didn’t really catch the way Sam shivered when he heard the sound of Castiel’s voice: low but soothing, warm and rough at the same time, and if he was decided first, now he was damn well convinced.
“Yeah. It’s me. I’m Sam, by the way. And you?”
“I’m Castiel,” came the answer, and Sam nodded, figuring that such a special creature should have a special name.
“Castiel! Well, since we stated this... I suppose that we could be married tomorrow morning?”
Castiel’s heart stopped beating for a second as a healthy blush reddened his pale cheeks.
“I would wish for that. Very much.”
The right corner of Sam’s lips twitched in a small smile and he nodded as he started his horse for the palace.
Gabriel, who had observed all the scene, was quick to follow them. Damn, Castiel finds his true love and he shouldn’t be there to witness the wedding, at least?
Nonsense.
When Crowley realized what happened as soon as Sam was back with the beautiful stranger, he sighed. Heavily. He was in trouble.
Bloody trouble.
(By the way, sorry for all the language. I know, I know, but give me a break. Fairytales are hard to write. Duh.)
--
Thankfully for Crowley, Lucifer was mostly understanding. After all he wasn’t really too evil, he just wanted his reign for himself, thank you very much. Also, he had never suspected that Sam should have such tendencies, not that he minded or whatever, and poor Crowley was told to keep him from finding a bride, not a groom.
Nonetheless, Lucifer was going to take good care of this whole mess, and Sam would have to deal. He felt kind of bad, kind of, but then again it was all for a good reason. Also, pretty boy angels never were his thing.
--
So, the next day, as agreed upon, Castiel was at the palace’s doors, wearing his best set of clothes (a dark blue set of embroidered corduroy trousers and jacket with a silk white shirt that definitely matched his eyes and hair and basically, made him look extremely hot), Gabriel trailing slightly behind. He had confided the chipmunk that he was a tiny bit nervous, even if he was on his way to fulfill his dream, and Gabriel had answered that of course he felt nervous, he was getting married to a damned prince, that wasn’t a thing that happened every day, and then he wished he had some nuts to eat. He figured he would steal some dessert after the wedding, because if there wasn’t a reception then seriously, that’d have been a lame, lame wedding.
And while he was thinking about what kind of dessert exactly he wished to eat, he realized that Castiel was already inside and someone had closed the door.
Ah well. He sighed and started climbing the tree nearest to the first window. One way or the other he was going to get in.
--
Castiel couldn’t help feeling awed as he stepped inside, along the path that Sam had assured would lead him inside where he would have been waiting; it was such a big palace, and the garden he found himself in was so luscious and green, and he really couldn’t believe he would live in such a beautiful place. He swallowed, following that nice Crowley person that was guiding him towards the entrance when suddenly a handsome man, dressed in black, with short blond hair and blue eyes, appeared in front of him effectively stopping his walk.
“Oh my, you must be the one Sam’s going to marry, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am, and I actually think I might be running slightly late, so...”
“You absolutely aren’t, don’t worry. And I believe that you will accept wishes from Sam’s brother, won’t you?”
Castiel blushed slightly as he nodded, clearly feeling overwhelmed. A pity; Lucifer was really starting to feel kind of bad. Still, his throne was his throne.
(And appreciate that the bad guy has some feelings here, dammit.)
“And would you accept a wedding present from me, before joining Sam? He knows about it, so he won’t say anything if you... run slightly late.”
“Oh. Well. When you put it this way, then I would be honored to...”
“Splendid. Then follow me. Please.”
The man had a soothing voice that dripped sincerity; Castiel nodded and followed him on the left, until they reached a well, full of clear water.
“What’s this place?”
“That’s a magical well. It... grants your wishes. You just have to say yours aloud as you look down into it and then it’s bound to come true. It will happen just once for everyone, so I would advise you to choose wisely,” the man said before leaving Castiel’s side and getting behind him.
The poor man didn’t really see it coming; but after all, he was a trustworthy person by nature, and it seemed such a beautiful gift to give him upon his wedding day. So he smiled just a bit and looked down the well.
“Then... well, I hope that we’ll live happily ever...”
And then two strong hands pushed him down.
No one noticed Gabriel watching the scene from a tree and running to search for Sam, because he wasn’t an idiot and he was pretty sure that he couldn’t fight against... that guy. He was just a chipmunk, dammit.
--
Lucifer felt kind of bad, again, but that had been necessary. Sam would probably just brood for a couple of days and then search for a rakshasa to kill, or something.
“Where did you send him?” Crowley asked, looking down the well.
“Oh, nowhere special. Just... a place where there aren’t happily ever afters. You want to call it hell, you’re absolutely free to.”
Crowley chose to ignore the small smile tugging on Lucifer’s lips and he just hoped for that poor guy’s sake that he’d survive. After all, for the fifteen total minutes he had talked to him, he hadn’t seemed like a bad lad at all.
--
The fall was long, dark and fast and Castiel really didn’t have the time to fully realize what had happened until he found himself in a place which was small, dark, smelly and mostly wet as he opened his eyes. He took a shaky breath, feeling somehow changed; he didn’t know how it happened, why it happened or what had gone wrong, but he knew that this was definitely not Heaven. It didn’t feel like it at all. He took another shaky breath and forced himself to think. Surely Sam was going to come for him, but meanwhile he should try to figure out where he was and what to do. He turned on his back, realizing that his nice, silk shirt, along with the corduroy trousers and jacket, were getting soiled by... whatever dirt was in this hole; he sighed, searching for the only, dim source of light. He found that it was above his head, coming from four holes in the shape of lines. He stood up and pushed the metal in between the holes, amazed to find that it was actually moving; soon enough, he had shifted a heavy, circular cover and realized that he could move out of the hole he was in, since the opening was wide. He looked up and saw a huge and confusing amount of light; he put his hands on the border of the circle and pushed himself up.
He found himself in a road which was like nothing he had seen before; it was covered in some strange, dark material which felt nothing like earth, all the buildings were too tall and their lights were too strong and you couldn’t see stars, and everyone else around was looking at him oddly, even if they were the ones who wore odd clothing, at least for his standards. His ears were attacked with sounds he didn’t recognize and he just stood in the street, not realizing what he should do, until he heard a screeching sound and some kind of honking and noticed that some huge, ugly machine was running in his direction and was probably going to kill him or something like that, and so he ran out of its way after letting out a scream of surprise.
Just so that he ran in the path of another metal trap, just smaller, and of another, and of another, and then he heard a lot of people screaming things like watch where you’re going, you asshole or what the fuck do you think you’re doing and idiot and public menace and they were all directed at him and he just couldn’t realize why; but he figured he’d be safe if he reached the side of the street where everyone else was and indeed, when he did no one was trying to run him over again. He let out a small breath of relief, wishing that Sam was here and wondering where did he end up; it didn’t last, since the crowd basically swallowed him and no one answered his questions (please, could you tell me the way to Heaven? Please, I don’t know... I’m not... I don’t... where am I?) and screaming for Sam didn’t help either.
He found himself pushed down some stairs and inside a nightmarish mean of transport which didn’t look at all like a carriage and which traveled underground and which was positively make him going to faint before the crowd swallowed him again and he found some stairs that he hoped would at least get him out in the open.
They did, but it was in a road not at all similar to that first one; actually, it was completely empty and the houses looked pretty grim and they weren’t as high or shiny as the ones he had seen before. He called for Sam again, getting no answer except a scream out of one window which said that he should cut that crap because someone’s trying to sleep in here, goddammit, and Castiel promptly did since he figured that he was not going to find help that way. He gave another look at himself; his shirt wasn’t pristine anymore but definitely soiled, the hems of his trousers were damp with water and his jacket wasn’t protecting him from the chill. Not to mention that whatever had dirtied it before didn’t smell good. Not at all. And no one was around.
After a second, he heard a sound of thunder and another second later it started to rain; cold water hit his face and hair and shoulders and he felt so helpless he could cry; what he was going to do, like this, stranded, in a place whose name he didn’t even know? He sighed, wrapping the jacket tighter around his shoulders, and started to walk. Maybe if he did he could find a familiar place, could he?
He certainly hoped so. And at the same time, he had never felt so alone.
--
“There’s no way you’re taking Hank with you!”
“Goddammit, it was mine and I will damn well bring it with me!”
“Not over my fucking dead body!”
Dean Winchester sighed and for the hundredth time today wondered why the fuck did he ever switch to this.
When he had to use his blood in order to repay his college debt, when picking law, he had imagined he’d do it with something a little more worthwhile than this. He wanted to help people, maybe work in the civil field, maybe mass actions, maybe even be one of those people who did civil in the mornings and worked for charities in the evenings, not to be a fucking divorce attorney.
Because, sorry to say, being a divorce attorney? It sucked. It sucked a lot, and while he knew perfectly why he had switched to that (it helped paying his debt a lot faster and it granted more money, and safer money, and quicker money) he still felt like this was just a goddamn waste of time. Especially when people like his current client, Tamara Walker, had been fighting for two hours with her soon-to-be-ex-husband Isaac about this Hank, which sadly wasn’t the family dog.
That’d have had at least a lick of sense. He was just waiting for the other divorce attorney, Gordon Walker, with whom he had sort of been in class with back in pre-law at NYU and even was Isaac’s brother, just to make things easier, to actually find out that hank was the nickname for a baseball card.
Jesus fucking Christ almighty.
Even if they were all but friends, Dean and Gordon shared a hopeless look before finally Jo, Dean’s secretary, knocked on the door and gave him his way out of that mess. Since Isaac and Tamara were way too into their arguing to even notice, he turned to Gordon, told him he had stuff to do and if please they could meet tomorrow at nine, and when he got a positive answer he nodded in relief and ran the hell out of that room.
This so wasn’t the job for him, and it was definitely going to drive him fucking crazy, and he didn’t have no damned choice anyway. Not for the next ten years, at least.
“How the hell can you even want to marry?” Jo asked, shaking her head slightly. “I mean, after working with that every day.”
Dean shrugged not looking at her, even if he was secretly thankful for her presence. After the fling they had once when he still was an assistant to the owner of the firm, who had retired a couple of years earlier, they had settled on a sort of nice friendship without too many strings attached which was just great for Dean, since it’s not like with a kid to raise and a job like his you got time to be friends with many people.
“That’s people marrying on a fucking whim,” he answered as he picked up his coat, “me and Anna aren’t. We’re rational. We have known each other for quite some time. We know our strengths and weaknesses. It won’t turn out like that.”
“Yeah, sure, and it sounds like you’re building a damned bridge, Dean. You told Ben yet, at least?”
“I’ll do that tonight. Wish me luck there. I mean, he likes her so I think it won’t be a problem, but still. Argh. I should actually call her too, dammit. That whole mess...”
“Dean, you should actually go on vacation if you ask my opinion. Or go to my mom’s and have a night out. But whatever, I won’t say anything else. Good luck with everything.”
“Thanks, Jo. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure. Have a good evening, okay?”
She squeezed her arm and he nodded at her before stepping out; and damn, his dad’s ’67 Chevy Impala wasn’t really made to be parked in some crowded alley in New York City. She was made to be on the goddamn road every day, but really. One gets what he can. He let his hand caress the handle of the front door for a second before getting in and starting for Ben’s school, hoping that he wasn’t going to be late because of the traffic.
Not that the kid would ever complain, and Dean did love him for that, too, but still. He hated being late and he hated his job making him being late. He also wished that Lisa was still here, but you can’t have everything now, can you? Then again, if she still was there, he maybe would have been able to quit the divorcing, and there wouldn’t have been Cassie and that would have been just fucking peachy, but Lisa was Dead and Cassie was a sort of closed chapter which still hurt like a damned bitch and even if the kid wasn’t technically his, he was his in every damned other way and he wasn’t going to fuck his upbringing up. Also because Dean knew a couple of things about how growing up without a mother feels like and he was set on avoiding that at any costs. Besides, Anna was a lovely girl and she was nice and she really did want to marry him and she was sweet and even if he didn’t love her the way he had loved either Lisa or Cassie he was pretty sure it wasn’t the same thing for her either.
And sincerely, rather than the perfect ending, he’d rather have a good ending, and this one seemed the best he could hope for, and that was what he was thinking as he pulled in front of the school. Thankfully he was on time. He was actually square on time, since he heard a bell ring faintly ten seconds after he stopped. He turned off his Zeppelin tape (listening to music in the car was something he kept for himself only, thank you very much) and waited for the kid to get out, which happened in a minute or so, and when as soon as he was into the car Ben raised an eyebrow at him which he always did when he knew that something was wrong with Dean, Dean wondered if eight-year-olds are supposed to read you this well.
“Hey,” he said as he started the car again, “how did today go?”
“Fine,” was the answer with a shrug of shoulders, “usual stuff, had a test, I think it went good, Katie’s still annoying but whatever. What ‘bout you?”
“Nothing special. I mean, usual stuff too. Two cases, lots of stress, Jo says I need a vacation...”
“Well, she’s right.”
“Yeah, sometime in the next century I will. Listen, there’s something I gotta tell you. No, I’m not quitting the job by the way.”
“Pity,” Ben answered, and Dean just shook his head biting back a laugh. His kid: the only kid in existence who wants his dad to change his job asap even if he makes a good amount of money. Whatever.
“No, me and Anna are... I’ll ask her to marry me. One of these days.”
Ben stared at him as Dean stopped at a traffic light and rain started to pour heavily.
“Uh. Well. I was sorta expecting it. I mean, you date her and stuff. And, well, she’s nice, I guess. But.. are you sure?”
“What do you mean, am I sure?”
“I mean, I remember how it was with Cassie and... I just, you and her aren’t really... oh, well, I guess it’s okay.”
“Are you okay with it? I mean, you two don’t know each other very well, but I thought she could bring you to school tomorrow?”
Ben nodded again, not looking too enthusiastic but at least he wasn’t openly disliking the idea either.
“Cool. Right, guess it could work. Her car isn’t as cool as this one though.”
Well, it did show that he raised the kid up.
“No car is as cool as this one. Right, well, I guess that before I call her tonight we could get Chinese?”
“Oh, yes! Please, dad, really?”
“Sure thing,” Dean answered as he drove on. He didn’t like Chinese as much truth to be told, but hey. Sometimes it’s worth it.
And that was when Ben suddenly grabbed his arm.
“Dad, is there an angel over there?!”
--
Castiel kept on walking under the pouring rain, his chill becoming progressively worse and his shivering likewise; he hadn’t noticed any place that looked like sanctuary and he was pretty sure he was going to run into a great trouble soon if he didn’t find a solution.
That was when he saw it; a sparkly, shiny sign that said Heaven in great, yellow-switching-on-red-switching-on-pink letters, on the second floor of a building, with a ladder bringing up to it.
Castiel was so overjoyed to see it that he didn’t pay attention to the two huge (fake) wings made of small colored lights that were on the sides of the H, nor to a sign on the door on the ground floor which stated first thing that this Heaven place was a brothel and second thing that it was closed for renovations until the next month.
He just climbed up upon the ladder and stood in a position in front of the H from where the wings seemed to sprout right from his back. And then knocked on the closed window. Repeatedly. And then again. And again. And then there was no answer.
He didn’t even hear the car passing by.
--
“The fuck did you say?” Dean said, stopping the car abruptly. “Angels don’t exist!”
His mother used to tell him that before she died when he was four. He had pretty much stopped believing in angels since then.
“Well, yeah, but look there!”
And right. A guy dressed in corduroy banging like crazy on the window of a fucking brothel in which Dean hadn’t set foot in ages standing like that with the fake wings in front of him? Well. Yeah. That beat all the kinds of weird Dean had seen in the last ten years or so.
“What the fuck?” he shouted as Ben got out of the car, picking an umbrella from the backseat.
“I dunno, but...”
“Damn, I’d say it was an advertisement, but they’re closed, goddamn...”
“Dad, he could fall down. I mean, it rains. And he’s up there, I dunno if...”
“Right, fine, fine, we’ll check this out. Hey!” Dean shouted as he went forward and realized that the guy was asking for some prince Sam. What, again?
“Dude! You up there! What the hell are you doing, you could fall down!”
The guy turned towards them and Jesus, he was drenched, but he also looked like Dean was the first person who had fucking realized he existed in a long time.
“Oh, hello!” he said from up there, his voice deep and rough and relieved. What the hell? “I was wondering if maybe you...”
And then he put his foot the wrong way and slipped; he barely got time to grip the rail in order not to fall.
Dean handed Ben the umbrella, cursing in his head as he ran forward and the guy let out a scream.
“Hey, hang up there! Dammit, don’t...”
No such luck. The guy did manage to hang on to the rail he had been standing on for a second, but then he let out another scream and fell down and really. It was fucking high.
“Dad, catch him!”
It wasn’t like he had needed Ben to say it out loud, but Dean did it anyway and he barely managed to catch the guy before his brains got splattered all over the sidewalk; except that he was fucking heavy and dragged Dean down with him and they both ended up on the ground, the guy hitting his back and Dean hitting his arm, not to mention a half-sprained wrist, but at least they were both alive.
“What the hell were you were thinking when you went up there?” Dean asked, even if he felt like an ass just right after because dammit, the dude looked like a goddamn drenched baby bird, strange clothes and all, and he was staring at him with two wide, blue and damn hopeful eyes and it just sounded like he was kicking a puppy.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked instead, and at least it had stopped raining.
“Oh. Well. Yes. Mostly. I am fine, thank you very much. And about what I was doing up there, I was merely searching for help, but I gathered that it seems like I am not going to get any.”
“And why there?”
“Oh, because Heaven is the place I come from. And I have been wandering very far and long tonight, and I am sad to say that... no one has been very nice to me,” he answered deadpan, and Dean didn’t want to know how crazy the guy was. Fucking Heaven?
Then again, he was pretty sure there had to be a town in Georgia or Kansas or something called Heaven or Haven. Maybe he meant that. No way he meant actual heaven.
“Well,” he said shrugging, “welcome to New York City.”
“Thank you,” the guy answered, and it was... actually sincere? Like he completely didn’t understand that it wasn’t supposed to be taken seriously.
Jesus Christ.
“Listen, you sure you’re okay? Maybe I could call somebody for you?” Dean asked, because the guy still looked like the lovechild of a kicked puppy and a drenched baby bird and he just wasn’t going to leave him there like that, even if he obviously wasn’t completely sane.
Then again, he didn’t seem dangerous either.
“Oh. Yes. But... I’m not sure they’d hear you, even if you called.”
That was when another thunder started, and when Dean lowered his stare and met Ben’s. Ben nodded. Dean sighed. He couldn’t resist the guy’s face along with his son’s face when it was sort of pleading but not really.
Dammit. He knew they were going to take him home. He just hope the backseat of his baby wouldn’t get too drenched.
--
“... and so Sam’s brother showed me this well and told me that if I wished what my heart desired most it would come true, but I must have leaned down too far because I... I fell and then I found myself at the bottom of this round hole, I climbed out, I... we could say I got myself very lost, and then I was lucky enough to meet you two and... here I am,” Castiel (or so he introduced himself, and according to Dean it was just fitting that a weird guy like that should have a weird name like that) said as they got out of the elevator of Dean’s condo and Ben walked them until the door of the apartment. He talked quietly but making it sound like it was actually true stuff and Dean couldn’t really wrap his head around it.
He set for the only logical answer, aka making fun out of it.
“So, you have an habit of falling off stuff?” he asked, even if his tone was way less sarcastic than he had in program.
“Oh, well, usually there’s someone around who catches me,” Castiel answered deadpan as Dean opened the door, and dude. Dude. Seriously. Lame. Lame.
“But don’t worry,” Castiel added then, “I am sure that very soon Sam will come and find me. I hope sooner than later because I do miss him quite much, and this place is just so strange.”
Right, Dean thought, let’s add that we have a guy who seems jumped out of a fairytale book and he has a prince and not a princess. He hadn’t known that fairytales featured gay couples these days but then again, what did he know? He never read any past the Brothers Grimm anyway.
“And I wish I could share a true love’s kiss with him again, it only happened once and we should be married now, but...” Castiel whispered again, sounding actually fucking sad. Except that Dean’s head was stuck on another point.
“A what?”
“A true love’s kiss. The most powerful thing in the world,” Castiel said firmly with indeed a lot of conviction, and Dean didn’t know how in Hell it was possible that such bullshit didn’t sound ridiculous. He spared a glance in Ben’s direction. He looked actually impressed.
The hell?
“Right. Indeed. Listen, man, until your... uh, prince, comes to get you, what do you think you should do?”
“Oh. Well, I suppose I need a place to stay for the night.”
“Which kind of place?”
“I... I wouldn’t know. I can stay anywhere. I even stayed in a hollow tree once, even if a bed is rather more comfortable.”
“Right, again. Listen, if... uh, if you want to get in for a minute I can call a taxi for you, that’s the most I...”
“Oh. That. That would be so nice of you,” Castiel answered smiling a tiny smile that sort of lit his face up, and again, what the fuck?”
And then Dean realized that Ben was staring at Castiel’s jacket. Before Dean could say anything, Ben ran a hand around a hem, which was, as Dean noticed when he looked better, perfectly embroidered and with actual small flowers on the edge. And they were embroidered in detail. Dean coughed as he opened the apartment’s door.
“Dude, that’s cool. Where did you find that?” Ben asked, staring at the jacket. Castiel actually honest to God blushed.
“Oh, I sewed it myself. As the trousers. It wasn’t so hard, and I had Gabriel to keep me company.”
“Who’s this Gabriel, a friend of yours? We could call him if...” Dean said, even if it sounded way too easy to be actually true.
“He is a friend of mine, but he’s in Heaven at the moment. Also, he is not... well, he’s a different species.”
“Right. I don’t think I want to know that. Listen, if you want you can sit down, then I’ll go change out of these clothes and we’ll get a cab for you, fine?”
“Oh. Surely. Thank you again for your kindness, I...”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on Ben, that’s bed time for you.”
He pushed Ben out of the living room as Castiel sat down gingerly on the sofa.
“Dad?” Ben asked then, when they were in the hallway going towards the bedrooms.
“What?”
“Are you sure he couldn’t stay here?”
“That’s out of fucking question. No. He just... Ben, come on, you heard him!”
“Well, he’s... y’know. The way he puts it, it doesn’t sound crazy.”
“Yeah, but it is crazy. Dammit, I need to call Anna, too. Listen, if...”
“Come on, it’s obvious. He doesn’t have a place to go. You really want to throw him out?”
Damn kids and straightforward questions.
“Listen, I’ll see. If he really can’t go anywhere else he can stay the night and then we’ll figure out. But go to bed now, alright?”
Ben looked very, very smug as he nodded and ran for his room, but Dean figured that he’d just let it go for now. He picked up his cellphone and called Anna, making arrangements for the next morning; then he got rid of his coat and shoes and got back into the room.
“Man, listen, if you... oh, crap.”
Of course. Of course as soon as he was back the guy would have been passed out on the couch.
Then again, the poor bastard was drenched and whatever the hell had happened to him (even if Dean wasn’t really going to believe the whole magic well shit at all) it must have tired him a lot. Not to mention the falling off the brothel’s railing bit. Right. And he looked so peaceful while sleeping, his breath regular, his hair half-wet and falling in uneven bangs upon his pale forehead, that Dean really couldn’t bring himself to wake him up. Oh, fine. He went to his room, grabbed one of his blankets, draped it over his new acquaintance and made sure to close the door connecting the hallway to the living room as he went to bed himself.
The guy didn’t seem dangerous or psycho but you can never know.
--
Meanwhile, as soon as Sam got the news of his beloved’s disappearance, his reaction definitely wasn’t the one Lucifer had planned. He had told his brother a story about some old hag which had brought Castiel to the well before Lucifer himself could stop her, and Sam had bought it, but instead of just making peace with it and go hunting for some random changeling, he had jumped into the well himself screaming his lungs out and saying that he would save his betrothed.
Betrothed. Who had even taught Sam to talk anyway?
Not to mention that he had been followed by some chipmunk which lived with Castiel, or so Crowley had informed him. Anyway, that was so not good. There was a serious risk that Sam would find Castiel, and he could absolutely not allow it.
--
“Okay, people, let’s just close this thing, okay? Who did even open it, I don’t have an idea…”
Chuck Shurley, company workman for NYW by day and wannabe writer by night (even if he had at least two novels written and no agent or publisher, otherwise he wouldn’t work with sewers, you get it), sighed as his two co-workers nodded and they started went to get the cover of the drain which some idiotic kid had probably moved last night just so they could lose a shitload of time this morning, and Christ, Chuck hated his job so fucking much, and to think that at least this was a break from boredom…
Suddenly a wooooosh could be heard coming from inside the drain and a second later he wished for boredom. Boredom was underrated. Boredom was awesome.
Because well, it just couldn’t happen that a six feet four tall guy dressed in red velvet like a goddamn Disney prince and who actually wore a fucking honest to God sword just jumped out of the fucking drain.
“Hey, man, what are you…” Chuck started, but then the guy yelled silence!! and Chuck found himself with a sword at his throat.
Oh, fuck. He knew he shouldn’t have got out of bed that morning.
“Hey, man, easy with that thing, uh? Really, I…”
“Your name, peasant… and quickly!” the Disney-prince-in-disguise said, and well, Chuck wasn’t going to be the one pissing him off.
“Ch… Chuck, mister. Careful with that sword, just, be…”
“Are you in league with the old hag who sent my beloved Castiel to this foul place, Chuck?”
Chuck blinked once. Then again. The he opened his mouth but the woooosh noise started again and goddamn chipmunk jumped out of the drain in order to land on the Disney-prince-in-disguise shoulder.
A chipmunk, who apparently wasn’t too okay with his squealing, since he did look sort of pissed. The Disney prince didn’t though; he actually serenely turned to the chipmunk who had ran down into his free hand.
“You must be Gabriel, right? Uh, you are quite different from before, but that’s no urgent matter. Since I gather you must have seen it, can you tell me if this man part of this evil plot?”
The chipmunk looked at Chuck for a second, then positively made a disgusted face and started shaking his head, still squealing like he was actually trying to fucking talk and like he wasn’t pleased with the fact that he couldn’t.
Thankfully the Disney prince seemed to sort of gather that the answer was negative and Jesus, a chipmunk was saving his ass.
What.
Then the prince jumped forward and held the sword to Chuck’s throat.
Right.
“Alright, we established that you aren’t part of the evil plot, but don’t you dare lying to me now,” the Disney prince said from his six feet four inches and with a genuinely blinding smile.
“Oh. Sure. I wouldn’t. I’d never. I…”
“By chance, have you seen my beloved partner coming from the very same path I came from? My other half, the fairest creature you’ll ever see, and the answer to my love duet, and the most enchanting man who ever had the grace to walk this plane, and my plane?”
Chuck shook his head sadly. “Er, well, no, but even if I like women, I wish I had someone like that, man. But, er, no.”
And then the Disney prince put out the sword and actually clapped Chuck on the shoulder and gave him that totally serene smile which was seriously kind of freaking him out.
“Then keep your eyes open, Chuck. I’m sure you will,” he said before turning to the chipmunk. “Gabriel, come on!” he yelled, and then ran in the other direction and freaking jumped on the roof of a taxi and then of a car and in ten seconds Broadway was a cacophony of honking.
“You okay, man?” asked Barnes, one of the guys, and Chuck nodded shakily.
“Jesus fucking Christ, have you seen that chipmunk?!!”
Chuck Shurley hated his job. He hated his job a whole fucking lot.
And then he wondered if the Disney prince would sue him if he stole his looks for the main character of those series about the supernatural hunter he was planning to start writing sometime soon.
--
When Castiel opened his eyes, light was filling the living room and he felt pleasantly warm, which was definitely a welcomed change from yesterday’s chill; his heart swelled in gratitude as he noticed that someone, most probably Dean, had covered him with that blanket. It was such a kind gesture, and from what he had gathered this place wasn’t at all full of kind people. He shrugged it off, standing up; he felt sort of dizzy, but he figured it was all natural. After all he had ended up in another world and while he was sure that Sam would come for him, he couldn’t realistically believe that he’d come right that moment. As he stood up, he took a look around; the living room was directly connected to the kitchen and so he had a good view of the whole apartment; and well, while the living room wasn’t exactly dirty, it was just mostly untidy with books scattered everywhere, the covers for the sofas put wrongly and the floor definitely in need of a swipe, the kitchen was a mess. Castiel really didn’t recognize half of what was around him, but he knew enough and well, you just can’t stay in a kitchen where the sink is full of dirty plates and cutlery, a couple of unwashed pans is still on the table and boxes full of food are scattered all around.
Then again, Dean apparently lived alone with his son and he figured that it’d have been more difficult to tidy your house when you can’t share duties with your loved one and have to take care of someone else.
Case was, Castiel was an extremely neat person and tidying never was a chore for him; and really, after all Dean and Ben did for him yesterday, he thought that he could repay them at least a little bit.
Having taken his decision, he took his jacket off, sighing as he noticed that it was now ruined for good, and rolled back the sleeves of his shirt until his elbow; then he decided he would start with the kitchen. He reached the sink and then noticed a strange, dark box with buttons on its top on the kitchen’s table; curious, he touched the one which read on and suddenly the device lightened up and music started to blast from it. He was delighted, since after all that happened yesterday his head really wasn’t coming up with any tune to hum to keep himself distracted, and he always liked to have music while cleaning.
He also found this particular piece extremely pleasing, even if it was in a different language; nonetheless, he though as he picked up a plate, a sponge and some soap, it repeated the same words over and over after some time, and since he had a good ear, he founds himself humming softly along with the music, and with a pretty decent pronunciation too.
(He couldn’t know that it was Italian, that it was opera and that the man he was currently singing along with was trying to win his beloved, who as a profession sold sexual services for money ; then again, he wasn’t off key and if he knew that he was saying that love is the heartbeat of the entire universe, curse and delight of someone’s heart, he’d have probably agreed.)
He quickly went through the dishes, then he cleaned up the table and placed the food boxes neatly in the center since he didn’t know their original location; then he found a broom, figured out where the dirt was supposed to go and proceeded to sweep up the floor. When he was satisfied with the kitchen, he moved to the living room; there, he straightened the sofas’ covers, then put in a neat order all the paper and books on the table, then opened the windows in order to change the air as the radio kept on playing (by this point, he was still singing along with the man and telling the woman that he was extremely happy and that he loved her so much); he picked up the broom again and while it took a bit more to take care of the floor because the room was bigger, in fifteen minutes he was done and he couldn’t help paying himself a compliment. Then he realized that his back was hurting a bit, and his muscles felt sore; well, he had slept in wet clothes after all. He avoided the closed door, figuring that it was where his hosts slept and not wishing to disturb them, and turned the other way in order to see if he could find maybe a room where to refresh himself for a bit. He sighed, wishing that Sam was here with him; but then again, he thought, until he came, trying a new experience could just be worth it, right?
He didn’t notice that Ben had woken up when he had accidentally made too much noise putting a dish in the sink while he was washing them and had witnessed more or less the last five minutes of his stunt.
“Dude,” Ben whispered as Castiel disappeared in the opposite part of the hallway, “that was beyond cool.”
--
“Dad! Wake up!”
Sempre libera vegg’io folleggiare di gioia in gioia…
“Dad! Come on! Wake up now!”
Vo' che scorra il viver mio pei sentieri del piacer…
Dean groaned, wondering why the hell Ben was up before him (it never happened), why he was being so insistent and why was the radio blasting fucking opera. Right, Anna liked it, maybe it was still tuned to that classical radio station she had put it on when she was here for dinner last, and Dean likes classic rock, thank you, but why…
“DAD!!”
“Argh, comin’, comin’, what the hell’s going on?”
“You so need to see this. It’s just, you need to!”
Well. That was excitement, to say the least… Dean pulled himself up as the radio kept on blasting the goddamn Traviata.
A diletti sempre nuovi dee volare il mio pens… and then it stopped because Dean turned it off with a relieved sigh.
And then he realized that the kitchen was pristine clean and that the living room hadn’t been so neat since they moved here and that it was fucking shining.
“What?” he said, not really believing it. “You can’t have possibly done this.”
Ben raised an eyebrow and his expression said are you fucking kidding me all over.
“Nope. Someone else did.”
“Someone…”
Right. Castiel wasn’t anywhere to be seen and the jacket was carefully folded on the sofa’s arm.
“Oh, Jesus.”
And then he heard some soft humming coming from the bathroom, which was definitely the goddamn Traviata and with an accent that wasn’t half bad; he looked at Ben again.
“You actually saw him do that?”
“Yep. He was, like, a pro. Or something.”
“Right. I’ll. Uh. I’ll check. You go have breakfast, okay?”
Ben nodded even if he didn’t exactly move and Dean went to knock on the door.
“Hey? Castiel? Can I, uh…”
“Come on in!” came he answer, and Dean did, just to find himself in front of a very naked Castiel just out of a shower with just a towel covering him from the waist down, and well, duh, the man was indeed well built. Perfect proportions, and good height, and compact frame, and hair which seemed to hold themselves in some crazy kind of sexy cut, and…
What the fuck?
“Hello, Dean.”
“Er. Uh. Hi.”
“I hope you had nice dreams,” Castiel deadpanned as he dripped water on the floor, because while he had the shower figured, he obviously hadn’t figured the shower mat or anything else.
“Christ, I think I’m living in one or something. Hey, did you…”
“Oh, this room is just magical. Where does the water come from?”
Right. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Uh. Duh. The… the pipes, I guess?”
Dean faintly heard someone ringing the bell. Oh, damn, Anna was there and he…
“And how does it go in the pipes?”
“Er. I… couldn’t say,” and maybe he even knew but right now he couldn’t come up with an explanation for how sewers work.
He faintly heard Anna ask Ben if they got a maid and Ben answering not exactly.
Right. Not exactly and he had to get the fuck out of this room before…
He took a step behind, Castiel took one forward, there was water still leaking and they both tripped over it and Dean fell behind. As the door opened behind him, because he hadn’t locked it, he cursed himself for having not done it, and then he was crashing on the ground with a very semi-naked Castiel right exactly on him and not only his eight years old son watching them from a couple of feet away snickering, but he wasn’t alone.
See, Anna, his fiancé, was a lovely girl with huge, doe-like eyes and bright red hair, and if right now her face wasn’t as red and fiery and bright as that hair, Dean had never become a divorce attorney.
Oh, shit. Shitshitshitshit. He disentangled himself from Castiel, but that was too late already.
“Anna! Wait a second, I… that’s not what it seems!”
“Right,” she answered, and her voice was steel. Oops. “And then what it was?”
“It… it isn’t… he isn’t…”
“Oh, Dean, just, don’t, okay? First I never stay the night here because there’s Ben and you know, there are boundaries, and I think that it’s great because it just shows how sensitive you are, and then I find you with a man in a shower?”
“Showers are indeed most wonderful,” Castiel muttered, and Dean wished he could commit harakiri.
“Really. Yeah, I’m sure. Well, enjoy your bonding time, Dean.”
“Wait, Anna, no! Please, can we talk about this later, I…”
“No, we can’t.”
And then she was out shutting the front door behind her and… well, Ben was sort of really trying not to give into a fit of laughter and Dean hoped for him that he wouldn’t do that, and Castiel was looking at the door like he had sensed that something was wrong but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what.
Oh, fuck.
“Alright. I need some coffee first. Then I’ll deal with it. Ben, you go have your breakfast now. And you, find something to fucking dress yourself with and then we need to have a talk and possibly in a very short time. So get the fuck on with it now!”
Well. Considering that Castiel blushed and ran for the bathroom while Ben stopped trying not to laugh and ran for the kitchen, Dean probably still had it under control. More or less.
Jesus, he thought as he went to get himself a nice cup of hot and black and strong coffee.
It wasn’t like he was going to run after Anna in his pjs anyway.
As Ben got dressed, he finished his third cup of coffee and then went for the bathroom and knocked. Hard.
“Castiel! You in there? Listen, that was a mess before, and I really can’t… I mean, I know you’re waiting for prince charming or whatever…”
“Prince Sam!” came from the bathroom.
“Right, but you gotta understand that… hey, where the hell did you find that?” Dean asked as Castiel got out of the room wearing another set of black wool trousers and matching jacket and his shirt from the day before washed clean.
“Oh, I asked Ben if you had some fabric that you didn’t need, any fabric was fine, and he said there were some black curtains that someone you knew left there in a spare room and you always say you should throw them away, so…”
“Wait, you made these in twenty minutes out of Cassie’s black curtains? Oh Jesus Christ, whatever, I give up.”
“You’re sad.”
“What?”
“You’re sad. I feel it coming from you. I am sorry if…”
“No, I’m not sad, I’m fucking angry!” Dean screamed, and sincerely he couldn’t care less. “You know about anger?! That’s a nasty emotion, if…”
“I heard about it, true, but I am afraid I’ve never experienced…”
Dean took a long breath and raised up a hand.
“Right. Let’s do this the easy way. See, that thing before? I’m sure you didn’t even realize it, but you got me into a damn mess with Anna.”
“That girl before? Oh, she was just lovely…”
“Yes, she is, and I actually am about to propose to her, if you get the drill.”
“Oh, that’s just so wonderful!” Castiel fucking beamed, and Dean figured that… “So you found your true love? I’m so happy for…”
“Right, maybe not all your happily ever after crap, but the point is that you fell on me while half naked and now she’s gotten into her mind that we… that we…”
Castiel suddenly became three shades paler. “That we had sexual intercourse?”
Jesus fucking Christ, Dean was going to Hell straight, if he kept on blaspheming like this in his head. Or well. Thankfully he was an atheist. Still.
“Yeah, exactly!”
Castiel seemed positively horrified.
At least.
“Oh. That’s… oh, no, I’m so sorry! Maybe you should, well, maybe rush to her side, and sing to her, and then she’d be reassured of… Dean? Why are you staring at me like that?”
“… are you for fucking real?”
“… I… I guess so?”
“You seem just, out of a fucking Hallmark card.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
And how the hell was Dean supposed to answer considering that Castiel probably didn’t have an idea of what Hallmark even was?
Then he noticed that Ben was standing at the door, dressed, and he was still in his pjs.
Oh, fuck, he swore before running to his room to change. Castiel raised an eyebrow at Ben, who shrugged and nodded at him.
Right. Dean so didn’t want to know what they were saying without even fucking speaking.
--
So, as we had stated before, clearly Lucifer was so not going to risk the chance of Sam finding Castiel; also, he had been keeping track on the latter’s movements through his sort of dark magic (which implied, looking through the surface of the water: yeah, Lucifer was cool like that), but still, he wasn’t surely going to try going there himself.
Also, he knew that Crowley was still hoping at least for a promotion, if not something else, and he was perfectly aware of his servant’s feelings towards him, which made everything considerably easier. It took just a tiny bit of flirting and a couple of promises to convince Crowley to go after Sam, and Lucifer watched with satisfaction as he jumped into the well.
Part II