I said I would, and now I am. It's my birthday and I'm having a commentfic meme just for me! roque-clasique started it and it was fun then so hopefully it'll be fun now. Only a few notes
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Boys Gone Wild 1/3lexhibitionJune 28 2010, 15:03:05 UTC
This probably isn't quiiiite to your specifications (because I suck like that) but I hope you enjoy it anyway! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Here's to awesomeness and fic and all the gloriousness in the world just for you!
---
Dean hates hiking. Hates it. Their cell phones don’t work out here, there's too much fresh air, too much quiet. And when you've finished the damn hunt and the tailypo's dead then there's nothing to track and you realize that everything looks exactly the same. All the trees are the same. All the rocks are the same.
"We're lost," Sam points out as they trudge along a track that has looked exactly the same for the past hour they've been on it.
"We are not lost," Dean growls.
They're lost. But that's not Dean's fault because everything looks the same.
And their angel is no help whatsoever. Okay, so he's mostly human these days, but Dean was kind of hoping he'd still have extra senses. A nose like a bloodhound. Something useful. Instead Cas keeps stopping to peer at leaves and rocks that are exactly the same as the leaves and rocks he stopped to peer at five minutes ago. And as if that's not bad enough he shakes his head, and says, "I'm asking for directions."
Dean stops, spins around to glare at him. "Okay, even if we were lost? Who are you gonna ask?" They're at a fork in the path, and surely no other sane person would be anywhere out here.
But Cas doesn't reply, he just walks over to a tree, looks up and..."Hello. We're looking for the nearest town." It's official. Cas has gone insane in the woods. He's talking to a bird. And not just talking to it but listening, head tilted slightly to one side and ignoring the incredulous looks Sam and Dean are giving him. "Thank you." And then he turns back to them, gives a satisfied nod. "He says we're not far."
Dean and Sam exchange glances before looking back at Cas. Sam clears his throat. "You can talk to animals?"
"I can talk to you," Cas replies mildly. "This way." He takes the left fork in the path.
"I hate everything," Dean informs the bird before he follows along.
*
"We're lost," Cas admits after a while. He sounds surprised.
Dean's not sure whether he wants to strangle him, or just sit down and cry. Instead he points to a tree, where some son of a bitch robot has been mocking them, watching them fight for the last five minutes over the right way to go. "Why don't you ask him for help?"
"She's a squirrel," Cas replies, in the kind of tone that suggests it’s Dean who’s gone insane.
"Oh, you don't speak squirrel?"
"They're no good with directions."
"Guys!" Sam cuts in, with a long-suffering sigh. "I vote we go Cas' way."
"I think birds suck at directions, too," Dean mutters under his breath as they start off again, still trudging in the same direction Cas' feather friend pointed them in hours ago.
Cas is silent for a moment, then, "Birds give directions for flight," he says.
Awkward.
For a while they walk in silence. There are footprints in the path they’re following: old and not theirs, but it’s reassuring to know that people have been here, not so very long ago. Dean distracts himself from the endless trudge by thinking about his car, how good it’ll be to see her again, how awesome it'll be when they get back to civilization and turn the television on, something with explosions. Cas likes nature documentaries (and Dean kind of gets why, now that he can see Cas trailing his hands through the leaves that line their path) but Dean’s had enough outdoors to last him the rest of his life.
Re: Boys Gone Wild 2/3lexhibitionJune 28 2010, 15:03:57 UTC
They reach a clearing, and Cas stops, so sudden Sam almost crashes into the back of him. "We should stop for the night," he says.
The light is beginning to fade. And while it’s kind of a relief that the woods finally looks different, Dean’s stomach sinks faster than the sun when he thinks about having to stay out here in the dark, with nothing to eat. They’ve got water with them, but that’s about it.
He shoots Cas a look which, he hopes, expresses his pure horror at the idea of camping out like this. "No, come on, we can keep walking."
"You need to rest."
"I'm fine!” Dean shouts, too loud in the quiet of the wilderness. "I'll be even more fine when I get a hot meal."
"Dean." And then his traitorous brother elbows him him the side! But before Dean can express his outrage, Sam hisses, "I think maybe we all need to rest,” and gives him a pointed look.
And it then that Dean glances over, really looks, at Cas and notices that…oh.
He’s flushed and rumpled, leaning against a tree, keeping the weight off his left foot. Now that Dean thinks about it, Cas has been kind of limping for the last hour. And even though his expression is still, eyes slightly narrowed, he’s not actually doing a great job of pretending that he’s being entirely selfless.
"Right,” Dean says, lets out a breath. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, that Cas isn’t used to this. That he can get blisters and cramps and fatigue just like anyone else now. It doesn’t help that Cas forgets most of the time, and Dean delivers a mental kick, reminds himself to be more careful. "Right, yeah. I am kinda tired."
Cas looks grateful when Dean sends Sam off to scrounge for food.
*
"You find anything to eat?" Dean calls out when he sees Sam clumping back through the woods.
He and Cas haven't had much luck with starting a fire. They did pretty well at gathering wood - Cas was very proud of the logs he collected - but with Dean's zippo sacrificed to burning up the tailypo carcass all they've managed to accomplish is making Dean's hands hurt from rubbing twigs together.
"I found some berries." Sam walks into the clearing, looking sheepish and holding nothing but a handful of sad looking red fruit. "Uh. How do you tell if they're poisonous?"
Dean rolls his eyes, digs through the pockets of his jacket. "Skittles it is."
"You've got candy." Sam shoots him a disgusted glare. "You didn't bring a map but you brought candy."
"And with that attitude, the only person I’m sharing with is my buddy Cas."
Dean holds the packet out to Cas, who is examining a stick like maybe if he turns it over in his hands just right it'll burst into flames all by itself. He loses interest in that when Dean pours a handful of brightly coloured pellets into his hands.
"What do I do with them?" he asks, suspicious.
"It's food." Dean tries not to be offended. Cas isn't human. He doesn't understand the supreme honor of being allowed to share Dean's Skittles.
"It's almost entirely sugar," Sam says disdainfully, but Dean knows his brother's just jealous.
"Dinner of champions," he said and tosses back a mouthful.
Re: Boys Gone Wild 3/3lexhibitionJune 28 2010, 15:04:40 UTC
They don't manage to get a fire started, but luckily it's a warm night. And Dean can't believe anything about this situation is 'lucky' because he's lost in the woods with no food and by tomorrow morning he's very likely to be nothing but bleached bones out here in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere. They make themselves as comfortable as they can - ha! - on the ground, and try to get a few hours sleep.
"It's too quiet," Dean complains after a good five minutes of hideous silence.
"Can't you hear the trees?" Cas replies, quietly.
A moment of silence and, "You speak tree?" Sam asks.
"No," Cas says. Dean turns his head slightly, to look and Cas' face in drenched in silver moonlight. His eyes are closed. He's not quite smiling - Cas doesn't really do smiles - but Dean's learned to read his face and that is one happy angel. "The wind. In the leaves. It's nice."
Dean is stranded in the wilderness with a hippy. He suppresses the urge to groan.
And what's worse is that Sam chuckles. "It's not so bad," he agrees. "Hey, Cas? Look, you see those stars? The seven bright ones? That's the big dipper." Dean scrunches his eyes and wishes his inevitable death from exposure would hurry up already. "Dean used to tell me it was the Impala, and the two of us with Dad."
"Angels call it 'Charity'."
"How do you know what charity looks like?"
"It looks like that," Cas explains then adds, thoughtfully, "Maybe not from this side."
The choked sob of despair Dean has been holding in erupts in a rough bark of laughter. Because he’s going to die out here, lost in the wilds without any food. And he can’t even bring himself to be unhappy about it because he’s got this, these two. At least if he’s going to die out here then he’s got his brother next to him, and Cas, all of them together. If he has to go out, then this is the way he wants to do it. He laughs harder.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks, and there’s concern for his lunatic brother coloring his voice.
"There are rocks under me," Dean gasps through his hysterical chuckles. "I hate the outdoors."
"It smells much more pleasant than your car," Cas points out.
"Oh, you are getting one of these rocks in your face, Featherbutt.”
And Sam laughs, too. "I've got your back, Cas."
They don’t actually get into a fight. Dean is too tired for that. Instead, when he’s laughed himself out, he looks up at the sky and points out the stars that make up the Giant Stripper and the Turkey Turd, listens to Cas talk about what it’s like to walk on the Giant Stripper’s nipple.
And he realizes, eventually, that Cas is right. The sound of wind in the leaves is nice.
It’s much better than the combined nasal symphony of Cas and Sam snoring, anyway. But Dean still hates hiking.
Re: Boys Gone Wild 3/3maychorianJune 28 2010, 15:34:06 UTC
Oh Em Gee. I love you. My love for this story cannot be textually rendered. It's exactly what I was hoping for from this prompt, funny and sweet and full of friendship and affection.
The skittles! The twigs! Castiel getting tired! Squirrels don't give good directions! Cas and Sam snoring together! Dean all annoyed and grumpy! Constellations that are different from the other side! It's just...so perfect. So perfect. You make me smile like a lunatic.
Re: Boys Gone Wild 3/3elsewhere_kelsJune 30 2010, 03:58:16 UTC
I loved this so much! Dean's grumpiness, the little cute moments, Castiel's general weirdness... and of course squirrels give terrible directions. And Dean thinking that it would probably be fine if he DID die out there, with Sam and Cas... so simple and disarming in his happiness.
Re: Boys Gone Wild 3/3dotficJuly 3 2010, 12:40:41 UTC
he’s got this, these two. At least if he’s going to die out here then he’s got his brother next to him, and Cas, all of them together. If he has to go out, then this is the way he wants to do it. He laughs harder.
---
Dean hates hiking. Hates it. Their cell phones don’t work out here, there's too much fresh air, too much quiet. And when you've finished the damn hunt and the tailypo's dead then there's nothing to track and you realize that everything looks exactly the same. All the trees are the same. All the rocks are the same.
"We're lost," Sam points out as they trudge along a track that has looked exactly the same for the past hour they've been on it.
"We are not lost," Dean growls.
They're lost. But that's not Dean's fault because everything looks the same.
And their angel is no help whatsoever. Okay, so he's mostly human these days, but Dean was kind of hoping he'd still have extra senses. A nose like a bloodhound. Something useful. Instead Cas keeps stopping to peer at leaves and rocks that are exactly the same as the leaves and rocks he stopped to peer at five minutes ago. And as if that's not bad enough he shakes his head, and says, "I'm asking for directions."
Dean stops, spins around to glare at him. "Okay, even if we were lost? Who are you gonna ask?" They're at a fork in the path, and surely no other sane person would be anywhere out here.
But Cas doesn't reply, he just walks over to a tree, looks up and..."Hello. We're looking for the nearest town." It's official. Cas has gone insane in the woods. He's talking to a bird. And not just talking to it but listening, head tilted slightly to one side and ignoring the incredulous looks Sam and Dean are giving him. "Thank you." And then he turns back to them, gives a satisfied nod. "He says we're not far."
Dean and Sam exchange glances before looking back at Cas. Sam clears his throat. "You can talk to animals?"
"I can talk to you," Cas replies mildly. "This way." He takes the left fork in the path.
"I hate everything," Dean informs the bird before he follows along.
*
"We're lost," Cas admits after a while. He sounds surprised.
Dean's not sure whether he wants to strangle him, or just sit down and cry. Instead he points to a tree, where some son of a bitch robot has been mocking them, watching them fight for the last five minutes over the right way to go. "Why don't you ask him for help?"
"She's a squirrel," Cas replies, in the kind of tone that suggests it’s Dean who’s gone insane.
"Oh, you don't speak squirrel?"
"They're no good with directions."
"Guys!" Sam cuts in, with a long-suffering sigh. "I vote we go Cas' way."
"I think birds suck at directions, too," Dean mutters under his breath as they start off again, still trudging in the same direction Cas' feather friend pointed them in hours ago.
Cas is silent for a moment, then, "Birds give directions for flight," he says.
Awkward.
For a while they walk in silence. There are footprints in the path they’re following: old and not theirs, but it’s reassuring to know that people have been here, not so very long ago. Dean distracts himself from the endless trudge by thinking about his car, how good it’ll be to see her again, how awesome it'll be when they get back to civilization and turn the television on, something with explosions. Cas likes nature documentaries (and Dean kind of gets why, now that he can see Cas trailing his hands through the leaves that line their path) but Dean’s had enough outdoors to last him the rest of his life.
His feet hurt.
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The light is beginning to fade. And while it’s kind of a relief that the woods finally looks different, Dean’s stomach sinks faster than the sun when he thinks about having to stay out here in the dark, with nothing to eat. They’ve got water with them, but that’s about it.
He shoots Cas a look which, he hopes, expresses his pure horror at the idea of camping out like this. "No, come on, we can keep walking."
"You need to rest."
"I'm fine!” Dean shouts, too loud in the quiet of the wilderness. "I'll be even more fine when I get a hot meal."
"Dean." And then his traitorous brother elbows him him the side! But before Dean can express his outrage, Sam hisses, "I think maybe we all need to rest,” and gives him a pointed look.
And it then that Dean glances over, really looks, at Cas and notices that…oh.
He’s flushed and rumpled, leaning against a tree, keeping the weight off his left foot. Now that Dean thinks about it, Cas has been kind of limping for the last hour. And even though his expression is still, eyes slightly narrowed, he’s not actually doing a great job of pretending that he’s being entirely selfless.
"Right,” Dean says, lets out a breath. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, that Cas isn’t used to this. That he can get blisters and cramps and fatigue just like anyone else now. It doesn’t help that Cas forgets most of the time, and Dean delivers a mental kick, reminds himself to be more careful. "Right, yeah. I am kinda tired."
Cas looks grateful when Dean sends Sam off to scrounge for food.
*
"You find anything to eat?" Dean calls out when he sees Sam clumping back through the woods.
He and Cas haven't had much luck with starting a fire. They did pretty well at gathering wood - Cas was very proud of the logs he collected - but with Dean's zippo sacrificed to burning up the tailypo carcass all they've managed to accomplish is making Dean's hands hurt from rubbing twigs together.
"I found some berries." Sam walks into the clearing, looking sheepish and holding nothing but a handful of sad looking red fruit. "Uh. How do you tell if they're poisonous?"
Dean rolls his eyes, digs through the pockets of his jacket. "Skittles it is."
"You've got candy." Sam shoots him a disgusted glare. "You didn't bring a map but you brought candy."
"And with that attitude, the only person I’m sharing with is my buddy Cas."
Dean holds the packet out to Cas, who is examining a stick like maybe if he turns it over in his hands just right it'll burst into flames all by itself. He loses interest in that when Dean pours a handful of brightly coloured pellets into his hands.
"What do I do with them?" he asks, suspicious.
"It's food." Dean tries not to be offended. Cas isn't human. He doesn't understand the supreme honor of being allowed to share Dean's Skittles.
"It's almost entirely sugar," Sam says disdainfully, but Dean knows his brother's just jealous.
"Dinner of champions," he said and tosses back a mouthful.
Cas gives his to Sam.
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They don't manage to get a fire started, but luckily it's a warm night. And Dean can't believe anything about this situation is 'lucky' because he's lost in the woods with no food and by tomorrow morning he's very likely to be nothing but bleached bones out here in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere. They make themselves as comfortable as they can - ha! - on the ground, and try to get a few hours sleep.
"It's too quiet," Dean complains after a good five minutes of hideous silence.
"Can't you hear the trees?" Cas replies, quietly.
A moment of silence and, "You speak tree?" Sam asks.
"No," Cas says. Dean turns his head slightly, to look and Cas' face in drenched in silver moonlight. His eyes are closed. He's not quite smiling - Cas doesn't really do smiles - but Dean's learned to read his face and that is one happy angel. "The wind. In the leaves. It's nice."
Dean is stranded in the wilderness with a hippy. He suppresses the urge to groan.
And what's worse is that Sam chuckles. "It's not so bad," he agrees. "Hey, Cas? Look, you see those stars? The seven bright ones? That's the big dipper." Dean scrunches his eyes and wishes his inevitable death from exposure would hurry up already. "Dean used to tell me it was the Impala, and the two of us with Dad."
"Angels call it 'Charity'."
"How do you know what charity looks like?"
"It looks like that," Cas explains then adds, thoughtfully, "Maybe not from this side."
The choked sob of despair Dean has been holding in erupts in a rough bark of laughter. Because he’s going to die out here, lost in the wilds without any food. And he can’t even bring himself to be unhappy about it because he’s got this, these two. At least if he’s going to die out here then he’s got his brother next to him, and Cas, all of them together. If he has to go out, then this is the way he wants to do it. He laughs harder.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks, and there’s concern for his lunatic brother coloring his voice.
"There are rocks under me," Dean gasps through his hysterical chuckles. "I hate the outdoors."
"It smells much more pleasant than your car," Cas points out.
"Oh, you are getting one of these rocks in your face, Featherbutt.”
And Sam laughs, too. "I've got your back, Cas."
They don’t actually get into a fight. Dean is too tired for that. Instead, when he’s laughed himself out, he looks up at the sky and points out the stars that make up the Giant Stripper and the Turkey Turd, listens to Cas talk about what it’s like to walk on the Giant Stripper’s nipple.
And he realizes, eventually, that Cas is right. The sound of wind in the leaves is nice.
It’s much better than the combined nasal symphony of Cas and Sam snoring, anyway. But Dean still hates hiking.
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The skittles! The twigs! Castiel getting tired! Squirrels don't give good directions! Cas and Sam snoring together! Dean all annoyed and grumpy! Constellations that are different from the other side! It's just...so perfect. So perfect. You make me smile like a lunatic.
♥♥♥
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This was fantastic. And when Cas said that birds give directions for flying...
oh, poor cas!
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Thank you for the great read!
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"Oh, you don't speak squirrel?"
"They're no good with directions."
ROFL. This is so hilarious!
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Oh, *Dean*.
I love this.
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