DCBB - Dean Winchester's Home for Wayward Angels - CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER TWO
A couple hours and a dozen cheap beers later, Dean was feeling more up for human (and angel) company. He had a pleasant buzz going as he slowly trudged his way towards the house. Halfway there … something gave him pause.
There was an odd sensation at the edges of his consciousness. Something dark and oily, like a grease stain on the periphery of his mind. It was steadily growing closer to his position, and Dean cursed himself for being unarmed and alone. Just because the war in Heaven was over didn’t mean there weren’t all manner of evil things out for a little Winchester blood.
“Hello, cupcake.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. Is it seriously ‘Come Annoy Dean Winchester Day’?
He knew that smarmy accent, and sure enough, when Dean turned around he was met with a very familiar smirk.
“Crowley. What the fuck are you doing here?”
The current ruler of Hell pursed his lips in a mocking pout as he sidled up closer to Dean.
“Aw, darling … one would think you weren’t happy to see me.”
Dean sneered but kept himself loose and calm.
“Yeah, well your assumptions would be correct, you limey bastard.”
The demon tutted softly under his breath and slowly began to walk in a circular pattern around Dean’s position. He seemed to be alone, but you could never tell with the crafty little shit.
“Now, Dean … you’re being so rude. Here I’ve come just to check up on my favorite little meat sack, and you’re resorting to calling names. That isn’t very polite.”
The closer Crowley came, the more that grease slick sensation made shivers trample down Dean’s spine. If nothing else, hopefully that suggested that he would be able to sense demons from now one. Unless it was just Crowley that was setting his spider-sense tingling.
“Check up on me? What the hell are you talking about?”
Crowley hummed softly as he turned to gaze heavenward.
“All sorts of nasty rumors floating about, darling. Mostly of your untimely demise … but I can see those must have been greatly exaggerated.”
Well then, that explained it. Crowley was there for answers. The play of powers and the return of Chuck had likely sent ripples and shockwaves through the supernatural community, but unless Crowley had a direct line to Heaven, he didn’t have a clue about what had actually taken place. Or how it might affect him. So Crowley was clearly here for reconnaissance. He wanted to see where he still stood in the grand scheme of things.
“Well, obviously … I’m standing right here, aren’t I?”
There was an odd glint of understanding in the demon’s eyes that gave Dean pause. For all he knew it could very well be glaringly apparent to Crowley that Dean was made of different stuffs since they last time they had crossed paths. If he was able to sense the power thrumming through the demon’s vessel, there was nothing to say that Crowley couldn’t feel God’s Grace woven into every fiber of his being.
“Quite right. There you are.”
In the next instant, there was a rusted hunk of a car door rocketing towards Dean’s face. Power immediately sang through his veins and the world white-washed a little, just at the edges. The projectile froze in mid-air inches from Dean’s nose, hovering for several seconds before it dropped to the ground. Crowley cackled in hard-edged glee.
“Oh there you are, gorgeous! I was beginning to wonder!”
Dean fought as hard as he could to keep himself steady and unfazed on the outside, but inside he was quaking in his boots. The power he could feel sparking across his body and jack-rabbiting through his muscles was heady. It was much more than he could comprehend or know what to do with. Maybe he understood Sam’s fear a little now, too. If this was what he could do now … fuck knows what he did when he wasn’t in control … back before the end.
“What do you want, Crowley?”
The world was still a little white at the perimeter, but for the first time since all the crazy shit began, Dean truly felt like he was in charge of it. In command.
Crowley smirked.
“Nothing, beautiful. Nothing at all … for now.”
Then the demon was gone. Dean could feel the darkness of him moving away quickly, and as he did the whiteness faded from his vision. He huffed a deep breath in relief, then turned his palms up and stared at his hands with more than a little bit of trepidation. This was more than Chuck was letting on. This wasn’t just sensing things a little differently. This wasn’t just something to get used to and not worry about.
This was … this was big.
“Dean?”
He glanced up to watch Castiel approach slowly. He was wearing a new pair of his jeans and one of the orange shirts (apricot, Dean’s memory annoyingly provided) but his feet were bare. There was a wariness in Cas’ gaze that Dean had never experienced before. Dean abruptly dropped his hands to his sides and turned to meet the angel head on.
“What’s up, Cas?”
The angel stopped a couple feet out of reaching distance, then pointedly glanced down to stare at the hunk of metal that Crowley had lobbed at Dean.
“Did something happen just now? There was a spike of power nearby. We were concerned.”
Dean dropped his arms and rubbed his palms absently against the rough denim of his jeans.
“Nah … nothing to be concerned about, Cas. Just another little conversation. Promise.”
The angel looked skeptical, but apparently didn’t feel like pushing for the truth at the moment.
“Are you … coming back inside? Balthazar has been cooking. I would say that I found this more than mildly disturbing, but the meal actually appears quite delicious. If I were to strictly judge by the smell.”
Dean cackled and clapped a friendly arm around the angel’s shoulder to steer them on towards the house.
“Awesome. Let’s see what the new little wifey cooked up for us, eh?”
A genuine smile broke free on Cas’ normally stoic face.
“It would be, perhaps, unwise for Balthazar to hear you refer to him as such.”
Laughing out loud, Dean knocked his head softly against Cas’ in a congenial manner as they began to shuffle towards the front porch.
“Nonsense. This is my angel harem, I’ll call him what I want.”
“Dean-”
“OH! Maybe I can get him to call me Daddy!”
“Dean-”
“That would be awesome, wouldn’t it, Cas?”
“Dean-”
“Ooooo… hey, Cas … will you call me Daddy?”
“Dean-”
“Come on, Cas… say Daddy… say Dad-dy, Cas.”
“De-”
“WILL YOU RIDICULOUS HEATHENS PLEASE SHUT UP AND COME SET THE TABLE!”
Cas flushed a pretty pink across his cheeks as Dean burst out laughing and slammed open the screen door to the front room. All in all it had seemed to serve as a pretty good deflection from the argument earlier, and the questions that would have popped up regarding the power surge from Crowley’s visit. Plus Balthazar had a distinct twitch to his left eye that indicated he had heard at least a portion of the “daddy” conversation.
That counted as a win in Dean’s book.
“Coming, sister-wife!”
The resulting spatula-shaped bruise on his temple was totally worth it.
~*~
Dinner had been a pretty decent affair. Dean couldn’t even begin to pronounce whatever the hell it was the Balthazar had made, but it tasted damn good. The prickly bastard had stayed just long enough to eat his portion, then with a begrudgingly given ‘call me when you need me’, had flickered off to wherever he was spending time these days. Dean had slipped away to shower and then gone straight on to bed. Maybe an hour after his well-time escape from having to do dishes found him laying down in bed and contemplating the cracks in the ceiling.
Cas was still downstairs with Sam and Bobby doing who knows what, so unfortunately Dean was left alone with his thoughts. Like Crowley saying he didn’t want anything ‘yet’. Like how Dean was now responsible for two powerful ex-angels of the Lord. Like the way that massive power had sprung to the surface instantly to keep him from getting a face full of car. Which meant it wasn’t buried too deep.
As he focused so intently on the ceiling with his racing thoughts, he eventually noticed that the cracks were slowly beginning to mend themselves under his absent scrutiny. After mere moments, the rough surface was completely intact. Even the water stain in the corner by the window had disappeared. A pulse of irritation ran through Dean’s brain, but quickly dispersed.
“This is getting fucking ridiculous.”
“Dean?”
Cas’ was poking his head nervously around the corner of the door. Dean waved him into the room. When the angel turned the corner it became blaringly obvious that he was lugging all the shopping bags filled with his new wardrobe into the room.
“Where should I put these, Dean?”
Dean made a flicking motion towards the chest of drawers in the corner of the room.
“Take up however much space you want. I don’t think I have much in there right now.”
The angel nodded and grinned. He began to methodically pull out one piece of clothing at a time and tuck them perfectly into the two bottom drawers. When he was done, he reverently placed his neon orange sneakers next to Dean’s boots on the floor. He eyed the empty bags for a moment before titling his head just a fraction. The bags and shoebox evaporated into nothing. Dean snorted.
“Handy. Instant recycling?”
Cas pursed his lips and shrugged a single shoulder. The human mannerisms he was continuing to pick up made Dean want to use words like ‘adorable’ … and then subsequently stab out his own eyes for thinking so. The angel tugged off his jeans, folding them neatly before dumping them in the clothes hamper, then crawled into bed in his fucking apricot t-shirt and dark gray boxer briefs.
Dean grinned when Cas stretched out beside him, tucking his arm around Dean’s middle and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. It was a moment of intimacy that would have probably freaked Dean the hell out just a couple weeks ago, but now there was this bone deep connection to the angel that he just couldn’t deny. Even if they hadn’t made out again like desperate teenagers the connection was alive and well.
It was just … Dean really didn’t know what to do next. He understood the logistic of it, of course. Hell, he’d been practically a sex god since the tender age of fourteen. But this was all … different. He wasn’t sure what Cas was expecting from him, if anything, and would it even be something Dean would be able to provide? He had never been the steady relationship type.
Just Lisa … and look how quickly he had fled from that when Sammy came calling.
“You are thinking too much.”
Dean snorted and turned to meet a set of blazing blue eyes only inches from his own.
“Most people would say I don’t think enough.”
Cas smiled softly and thumped Dean’s stomach lightly with his fingers.
“Then they do not know the real you.”
With those words spoken, the angel closed his eyes and settled in for a night of rest. Dean continued to stare at him for several more moments, a little stunned.
“Huh.”
He finally turned his eyes back towards the ceiling and willed himself to sleep.
~*~
Cas woke up screaming like the hounds of Hell were ripping him to ribbons and Dean nearly had a heart attack. There wasn’t really enough time to process exactly what was going on before Cas was grasping at him desperately and keening low in his throat. The angel’s long fingers were skimming frantically over Dean’s face and down his neck and torso.
“Cas? CAS!”
Finally some semblance of reason sparked to life in the familiar blue eyes, and the angel’s breath grew steady and calm. Dean pushed a hand through Cas’ hair to cradle the back of his neck.
“What happened, Cas? Bad dream?”
The angel nodded but broke his gaze away to stare down at his hands, now lying lifelessly in his lap.
“Have you never had a bad dream before, Cas?”
There was a gentle head shake and a small grimace given in response.
“What did you see? Do you remember?”
Cas took a deep breath before speaking.
“You were being tortured, and I couldn’t- … I was helpless to stop it.”
Dean nodded in understanding and pulled Cas close, so that their foreheads were resting against each other.
“It was just a bad dream, Cas. It wasn’t real.”
The angel gripped him tightly, slightly sweaty fingertips slipping across Dean’s back to find purchase.
“It felt very real.”
Smiling softly and trying his best to be reassuring, Dean whispered, lips almost brushing against Castiel’s as he spoke.
“Yeah, sometimes they really do … but I’m right here, and I’m okay.”
Cas pulled away slightly and his gaze flicked down to Dean’s mouth. They hadn’t kissed since that moment on the floor of the cabin, and Dean was suddenly very conscious of that fact. Without thinking, he licked his lips, chewing the lower one just slightly for a want of something to do. Castiel’s eyes widened a fraction and that was all the warning Dean had before the angel practically launched himself at him.
Their lips slammed together and Cas took instantly to biting and suckling at Dean’s mouth. The ferocity of the kiss had Dean gasping, and the angel took advantage of his shock to delve his tongue inside, hot and deep. Cas pushed him backwards with his weight, and Dean allowed himself to fall back on the bed, his angel’s warm body splayed across him and pressing him into the mattress. For as long as Dean had been having sexual relations, he had always considered himself the aggressor. The one in charge. Whether it was because this was his first time with another man, or just because it was Cas … he found himself handing over control to the angel.
Cas shifted so that one leg slipped between Dean’s, and then his thigh was suddenly pressing deliciously against Dean’s crotch. Dean broke away from the kiss to gasp loudly and throw his head back, exposing his neck to Cas. The angel growled low in his throat before latching his mouth over the offered skin, nibbling and sucking bruises across its expanse, all the while rubbing his thigh maddeningly across Dean’s erection.
“Fuck… Cas … fuck … when did you … how …”
Complete sentences just weren’t happening. Not when Dean felt like his brain might be dribbling out of his ears. The sparks of pleasure lightening up and down his spine were unlike anything he could remember experiencing before. It honestly made him feel like all the sex he’d had before was just sex, and this was something else. Cas mumbled against Dean’s lips as he stretched up to kiss him again.
“I’ve been … researching…”
If he had been able to catch his breath, Dean would have chuckled.
“Researching?”
Cas hummed delightedly as he mouthed softly along Dean’s jaw.
“Yes. Sam showed me some very helpful websites on the internet-”
Thoughts of his little brother showing Cas what was probably, essentially gay porn made Dean’s heart stutter in embarrassment. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh no.
“-and Bobby suggested some literature. ‘Homosexual Intercourse for the Intellectually Challenged,’ I think?”
Horror warred with libido … and horror won. Dean froze and pushed against Castiel’s shoulders.
“You’ve been… you’ve been talking to Sam and Bobby? About sex with me?”
The angel seemed put out at being pushed away for a moment, before he realized that Dean was honestly horrified at the thought.
“I am sorry… should I not have?”
Dean screeched and levered himself to a seated position.
“NO!!”
Cas appeared honestly contrite, and Dean’s erection was definitely done for the night.
“No… Jesus, Cas! That’s … I mean … if you have questions, you can ask me, okay? Come straight to me and we’ll figure it out, okay?”
Castiel shrugged and flopped sideways on the bed, refusing to meet Dean’s gaze.
“I just didn’t understand. Nothing has happened since we left the cabin, and I thought perhaps you had changed your mind. That you didn’t want me … that way … anymore.”
Dean slumped forward until he could push Castiel onto his back, then he carefully laid his head down on the angel’s chest and wrapped his arms tightly around Cas’ middle. The angel cautiously raised his hand to thread his fingers through Dean’s short hair.
“I do still want you that way, Cas. Hell, we’ve been sleeping in the same bed for weeks. I just … I’m not good at this kind of thing, and I’ve never been with another man before, so I’m just taking my time a bit. Alright?”
He could feel the other man nod beneath him.
“I understand, Dean. We will wait until you are ready.”
Dean sighed against the fabric of Castiel’s shirt. The arousal and adrenaline that had been singing through his veins were both dissipating, and his eyes felt heavy with sleep.
“I do love you, Cas.”
The chest beneath him hummed with a happy purr as the fingers carding through his hair moved to gently swipe across Dean’s bottom lip.
“I love you, too, Dean.”
The hunter drifted off to sleep content with the steady thump of the angel’s heartbeat in his ear.
~*~
The next morning was oddly silent in the house. Everyone was seated at the table, but no one was really talking, Bobby and Sam were going out of their way to keep from meeting Dean’s eyes. Served them right, too. Let them be a little mortified now in the harsh light of morning. They probably thought sex had happened last night and were trying not to visualize it. Dean had the sudden urge to walk around like he had a sore ass and take the uncomfortable tension up a notch.
Just for shits and giggles.
Dean got a backwash of gingersnap cookies just before the sound of wings fluttered to life in the dining room.
“Good morning, lovelies!”
And that was just what he needed to ratchet up the bizarre day he was already having. Perfect.
“So, look, duckies … I have news…”
Something new slipped into the back of Dean’s throat. Super sweet and syrupy. Like rock candy and lollipops and cream soda. Just before the sound of wings repeated in the room, Dean dropped his head into hands and groaned.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“BABIES!!! I’VE MISSED YOU!!”
Sam spewed coffee across the table, Castiel shot to his feet, and Bobby sighed as he slipped some whiskey into his mug while Sheriff Mills was distracted by the newcomer. Dean raised his head, and sure enough … same little loud-mouthed shit with his bright eyes and trickster smirk.
“Gabriel.”
The arch-angel, who had been in the middle of hugging the life out of a horrified Sam, turned to Dean and grinned sincerely.
“Dean-o!! Sweetcheeks! Honey bear! Jesus Junior! It’s good to see you, you bastardy ball of angst!”
The smaller man wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and squeezed before planting a noisy kiss on the crown of his head. Then he was quickly distracted by Castiel, who seemed completely perplexed on the events of the morning. He didn’t even move as Gabriel hugged him close.
“Cas! Little bro! Look at you! You’ve said ‘no’ to tan! I knew you had it in you!”
“Gabriel? I … you are back?”
A pounding headache was slowly creeping into Dean’s skull that magnified with each voice that joined in the chorus of chaos echoing off the walls.
“You bet your sweet ass, I am!”
“I was asked to escort him here. He’s here. Please tell me I can go now.”
“God brought you back with the rest? When he fixed everything?”
“Or maybe it’s not your sweet ass… I’ve heard its Dean’s ass now.”
“But why are you here?”
“I’m gonna need a bigger house.”
“I beg of you, can I please leave? He gives me hives.”
“Bobby… what the hell is going on?”
“Fuck you, Balty! I’m adorable!”
“No seriously, why the hell are you here?”
“Why would it be Dean’s ass and not my own?”
That was it.
“SHUT UP!” *KA-CRACK*
A deafening thunderclap shook the house, rattling the windows and silencing everyone instantly. Well, almost everyone.
“Sorry, boss.”
“Can it, Gabriel.”
When Dean rose slowly from the chair and turned to face the room’s occupants, he was met with several expressions of utter shock… and a little fear, with the exception of Balthazar and Gabriel. It would figure that if Chuck had assigned them to Dean directly, they were already aware that he still had power at his disposal. He had managed to keep it under wraps from everyone else.
Sam swallowed.
“Dean-”
Dean held up a hand and his brother fell silent. Slowly crossing his arms over his chest, Dean tipped his head back until he could stare at the ceiling above him.
“We need to talk.”
The world whited out instantly around him, and there was Chuck sitting on the kitchen counter and swinging his legs.
“Hi, Dean!”
Dean sighed as his shoulders slumped.
“Seriously, Chuck? Gabriel? What the fuck am I supposed to do with an arch-angel turned trickster turned arch-angel?”
Chuck shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with the hem of his housecoat.
“Gabriel was so used to Earth, I knew he wouldn’t be happy with the Heavenly Host. Not to mention YOU were the one who managed to bring him back around and do what was right. He sacrificed himself for you … so I figured … he was kind of already yours anyway.”
The phrase about the weight of the world being put on your shoulders suddenly seemed very apt.
“Chuck …”
“Just think of all the good you’ll accomplish! You have three powerful angels at your disposal. All yours. Do you want any more? I can get you Uriel … or Ananiel, maybe?”
“OH, HELL NO-”
“Oooooh… you’re right. That would be kinda awkward now, wouldn’t it?”
“Chuck…”
The All-Father hummed in response. Dean glanced down at his own feet for a moment, surprised that they were bare and he was dressed in all white, like when he awoke from his moment of martyrdom.
“Did you happen to see what happened with Crowley?”
Something dark flashed across Chuck’s face for the briefest of seconds, but then he was all grins again.
“Don’t worry about Crowley.”
Dean nodded and watched as Chuck hopped down from the counter and the white began to bleed out of the room.
“Wait! I’m looking after three of your most dysfunctional kids… I want some alimony!”
Chuck laughed.
“Really, Dean?”
Stomping his foot like a toddler, Dean huffed.
“Do you realize how much candy Gabriel eats? And we don’t have any more rooms in the house, we’re already imposing on Bobby as it is, Cas has gone fashion diva on me … and I can’t really get money by nefarious purposes anymore, right? So what the heck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to provide?”
The smile he received in response to his words was warm and wide. Chuck reached out to rest a hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.
“Alright. I’ll help you out a bit. I’m so proud of you, Dean. You’re going to be just perfect.”
Dean blinked at the phrasing, but the white around him was already beginning to fade.
“Perfect for what, Chuck?”
Everything melted away quickly until he found himself standing in Bobby’s silent kitchen.
“Perfect for WHAT, you sneaky sonuvabitch!?”
Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Dean turned to find the swarm of people and angels just as he had left them. Gabriel was grinning so wide and bright it was amazing he hadn’t popped a blood vessel. Dean glared at him.
“What, Gabriel?”
“Did you just call our Father a sneaky son of a bitch… to his face?”
Dean shrugged one shoulder and the angel squealed in response.
“This is going to be so awesome! What are we gonna do first, boss? Come on, come on … give me an assignment!”
Before he could say anything in response, Sam slapped on epic bitchface #92 and stepped right up into Dean’s business.
“Uh… personal space, Sam?”
And fuck…epic flashback… with all that had changed, that was kinda hilarious right there.
“Dean. I deserve an explanation.”
Shrugging nonchalantly and side-stepping Mount Sam, Dean chugged down the rest of his coffee and spun on his heel to leave the kitchen.
“What kind of explanation, Sammy? Gabriel’s part of the family now. Woo-hoo! Look at us! We’re the official Brady Bunch of the Heavenly Host. He’s not the youngest, but personally I think that Gabe would look the most adorable with the curls.”
“HEY!”
Dean was honestly shocked when his arm was grabbed painfully and he was flung around to face a very pissed off looking little brother.
“Don’t make a joke of this, Dean, God dammit! You know exactly what I am talking about! There was a clap of fucking thunder that shook the house when you yelled! What. Is. Going. On.”
Dean rubbed his free hand wearily down his face.
“Nothing, Sam. It’s nothing. I promise.”
Sam looked like he wasn’t buying it one iota, but released Dean’s arm anyway.
“I know this is stupid to ask, because you never have before … but you would tell me if something was wrong, right Dean? You would tell me… because you promised me in that damn cabin that you would never leave me again. You promised.”
Sam’s eyes were a little glassy and wounded. It felt like a punch to Dean’s gut. He reached up slowly to grasp the back of Sam’s neck, and then brought his little brother down until they knocked foreheads.
“I’m not leaving you again, Sam. Never. I swear.”
Sam nodded and sniffed, but didn’t speak.
“Hey guys? Guys? Guys?”
Dean sighed and moved away from his brother.
“What, Gabriel?”
The smaller angel shrugged and pointed to the kitchen window.
“Just thought you might like to know that there’s a house in the backyard.”
Everyone in the kitchen save for Gabriel whipped around to stare out the window. Just visible was the corner of a building that hadn’t been there five minutes previously. The screen door slammed behind him as Dean sprinted out into the salvage yard and skidded to a stop. He could hear everyone else follow him out, but his main focus was on the rustic, two-story log cabin that was somehow squeezed between the towers of cars and scraps.
“What … the… hell…”
A movement caught his eye, and there, swinging slowly above the entrance to a wraparound porch was a wooden sign with the word ‘Alimony’ carved into the surface. A shocked laugh wrenched its way from Dean’s throat.
“Oh, you snarky bastard.”
He trotted in double-time over to the cabin and cautiously stepped up onto the porch. It was absolutely gorgeous. Something he had tucked away in his thoughts ages ago that he would like to have, but knew his lifestyle would never permit. Thick logs of cedar made up the walls of the cabin, stained a rich, beautiful rust color. The trim around the windows and the door were an aged hunter green, and four wooden rocking chairs were lined up on either side.
Hesitantly, Dean opened the front door and stepped inside. It looked like something straight out of a catalogue. Living room, dining room and kitchen in one big open floor plan with the same cedar walls and floor as the exterior. The furniture was all supple chocolate leather or distressed wood, with a giant stone fireplace in the corner. The kitchen had gleaming stainless steel appliances and honey quartz countertops that glowed with the butter rich light from the hanging lamps above the island bar.
There was a low, appreciative whistle from behind him before Gabriel’s voice spoke up.
“Man, oh, man. Pretty swanky. If you got this… I guess Dad got the car and the dogs, huh?”
Dean rolled his eyes but stepped further into the house towards the wrought iron spiral staircase in the back corner. He took the stairs slowly, one by one, to appreciate the amazing scrolling iron work that decorated them. When the second floor came into view he had to chuckle. There was just a short hallway with four doors. Each one bearing a carved wooden sign that matched the one hanging on the porch. Gabriel, Balthazar, Sam … Dean & Castiel.
Gabriel whooped loudly from behind him and took off towards his door.
“ME FIRST! ME FIRST!”
Balthazar snorted elegantly as he sauntered over toward his own door.
“I’m sure you understand that I’m not actually going to stay here. I feel as if I should don some track pants and begin planning for the arrival of the comet.”
Against his better judgment (never wise to admit to Balthazar that you might actually find him humorous) Dean chuckled at the statement as he continued to walk towards the door at the far end of the hallway marked Dean & Castiel. Subtle, apparently Chuck was not. He could have at least given Cas his own room for appearances sake. He slowly turned the handle and swung open the door.
A giant king size, rustic oak four poster bed sat dead center in the room. It was piled high with crisp white linens and a thick duvet. Matching oak side tables framed either side, with matching desks separated on the opposite wall. There were two intricately carved, massive oak wardrobes book-ending a long chest of drawers with two mirrors hanging on the wall above it. A large picture window faced east, and was opened to allow a subtle breeze to ripple the white floor length curtains in waves.
Dean was honestly … flabbergasted. He walked towards the right side of the bed (his usual side) and saw something gleaming on the side table. It was a Platinum credit card with his name on it, and a lime green post-it note that read, ‘to provide for the kids’ in a messy scrawl. Just then Sam squealed the equivalent of ‘OMG’ like a big girl from the vicinity of his room … and Dean lost it.
He collapsed on his new, ridiculously comfortable, bed in a fit of giggles and didn’t stop until his sides were screaming in pain.
CHAPTER THREE
A couple hours and a dozen cheap beers later, Dean was feeling more up for human (and angel) company. He had a pleasant buzz going as he slowly trudged his way towards the house. Halfway there … something gave him pause.
There was an odd sensation at the edges of his consciousness. Something dark and oily, like a grease stain on the periphery of his mind. It was steadily growing closer to his position, and Dean cursed himself for being unarmed and alone. Just because the war in Heaven was over didn’t mean there weren’t all manner of evil things out for a little Winchester blood.
“Hello, cupcake.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. Is it seriously ‘Come Annoy Dean Winchester Day’?
He knew that smarmy accent, and sure enough, when Dean turned around he was met with a very familiar smirk.
“Crowley. What the fuck are you doing here?”
The current ruler of Hell pursed his lips in a mocking pout as he sidled up closer to Dean.
“Aw, darling … one would think you weren’t happy to see me.”
Dean sneered but kept himself loose and calm.
“Yeah, well your assumptions would be correct, you limey bastard.”
The demon tutted softly under his breath and slowly began to walk in a circular pattern around Dean’s position. He seemed to be alone, but you could never tell with the crafty little shit.
“Now, Dean … you’re being so rude. Here I’ve come just to check up on my favorite little meat sack, and you’re resorting to calling names. That isn’t very polite.”
The closer Crowley came, the more that grease slick sensation made shivers trample down Dean’s spine. If nothing else, hopefully that suggested that he would be able to sense demons from now one. Unless it was just Crowley that was setting his spider-sense tingling.
“Check up on me? What the hell are you talking about?”
Crowley hummed softly as he turned to gaze heavenward.
“All sorts of nasty rumors floating about, darling. Mostly of your untimely demise … but I can see those must have been greatly exaggerated.”
Well then, that explained it. Crowley was there for answers. The play of powers and the return of Chuck had likely sent ripples and shockwaves through the supernatural community, but unless Crowley had a direct line to Heaven, he didn’t have a clue about what had actually taken place. Or how it might affect him. So Crowley was clearly here for reconnaissance. He wanted to see where he still stood in the grand scheme of things.
“Well, obviously … I’m standing right here, aren’t I?”
There was an odd glint of understanding in the demon’s eyes that gave Dean pause. For all he knew it could very well be glaringly apparent to Crowley that Dean was made of different stuffs since they last time they had crossed paths. If he was able to sense the power thrumming through the demon’s vessel, there was nothing to say that Crowley couldn’t feel God’s Grace woven into every fiber of his being.
“Quite right. There you are.”
In the next instant, there was a rusted hunk of a car door rocketing towards Dean’s face. Power immediately sang through his veins and the world white-washed a little, just at the edges. The projectile froze in mid-air inches from Dean’s nose, hovering for several seconds before it dropped to the ground. Crowley cackled in hard-edged glee.
“Oh there you are, gorgeous! I was beginning to wonder!”
Dean fought as hard as he could to keep himself steady and unfazed on the outside, but inside he was quaking in his boots. The power he could feel sparking across his body and jack-rabbiting through his muscles was heady. It was much more than he could comprehend or know what to do with. Maybe he understood Sam’s fear a little now, too. If this was what he could do now … fuck knows what he did when he wasn’t in control … back before the end.
“What do you want, Crowley?”
The world was still a little white at the perimeter, but for the first time since all the crazy shit began, Dean truly felt like he was in charge of it. In command.
Crowley smirked.
“Nothing, beautiful. Nothing at all … for now.”
Then the demon was gone. Dean could feel the darkness of him moving away quickly, and as he did the whiteness faded from his vision. He huffed a deep breath in relief, then turned his palms up and stared at his hands with more than a little bit of trepidation. This was more than Chuck was letting on. This wasn’t just sensing things a little differently. This wasn’t just something to get used to and not worry about.
This was … this was big.
“Dean?”
He glanced up to watch Castiel approach slowly. He was wearing a new pair of his jeans and one of the orange shirts (apricot, Dean’s memory annoyingly provided) but his feet were bare. There was a wariness in Cas’ gaze that Dean had never experienced before. Dean abruptly dropped his hands to his sides and turned to meet the angel head on.
“What’s up, Cas?”
The angel stopped a couple feet out of reaching distance, then pointedly glanced down to stare at the hunk of metal that Crowley had lobbed at Dean.
“Did something happen just now? There was a spike of power nearby. We were concerned.”
Dean dropped his arms and rubbed his palms absently against the rough denim of his jeans.
“Nah … nothing to be concerned about, Cas. Just another little conversation. Promise.”
The angel looked skeptical, but apparently didn’t feel like pushing for the truth at the moment.
“Are you … coming back inside? Balthazar has been cooking. I would say that I found this more than mildly disturbing, but the meal actually appears quite delicious. If I were to strictly judge by the smell.”
Dean cackled and clapped a friendly arm around the angel’s shoulder to steer them on towards the house.
“Awesome. Let’s see what the new little wifey cooked up for us, eh?”
A genuine smile broke free on Cas’ normally stoic face.
“It would be, perhaps, unwise for Balthazar to hear you refer to him as such.”
Laughing out loud, Dean knocked his head softly against Cas’ in a congenial manner as they began to shuffle towards the front porch.
“Nonsense. This is my angel harem, I’ll call him what I want.”
“Dean-”
“OH! Maybe I can get him to call me Daddy!”
“Dean-”
“That would be awesome, wouldn’t it, Cas?”
“Dean-”
“Ooooo… hey, Cas … will you call me Daddy?”
“Dean-”
“Come on, Cas… say Daddy… say Dad-dy, Cas.”
“De-”
“WILL YOU RIDICULOUS HEATHENS PLEASE SHUT UP AND COME SET THE TABLE!”
Cas flushed a pretty pink across his cheeks as Dean burst out laughing and slammed open the screen door to the front room. All in all it had seemed to serve as a pretty good deflection from the argument earlier, and the questions that would have popped up regarding the power surge from Crowley’s visit. Plus Balthazar had a distinct twitch to his left eye that indicated he had heard at least a portion of the “daddy” conversation.
That counted as a win in Dean’s book.
“Coming, sister-wife!”
The resulting spatula-shaped bruise on his temple was totally worth it.
~*~
Dinner had been a pretty decent affair. Dean couldn’t even begin to pronounce whatever the hell it was the Balthazar had made, but it tasted damn good. The prickly bastard had stayed just long enough to eat his portion, then with a begrudgingly given ‘call me when you need me’, had flickered off to wherever he was spending time these days. Dean had slipped away to shower and then gone straight on to bed. Maybe an hour after his well-time escape from having to do dishes found him laying down in bed and contemplating the cracks in the ceiling.
Cas was still downstairs with Sam and Bobby doing who knows what, so unfortunately Dean was left alone with his thoughts. Like Crowley saying he didn’t want anything ‘yet’. Like how Dean was now responsible for two powerful ex-angels of the Lord. Like the way that massive power had sprung to the surface instantly to keep him from getting a face full of car. Which meant it wasn’t buried too deep.
As he focused so intently on the ceiling with his racing thoughts, he eventually noticed that the cracks were slowly beginning to mend themselves under his absent scrutiny. After mere moments, the rough surface was completely intact. Even the water stain in the corner by the window had disappeared. A pulse of irritation ran through Dean’s brain, but quickly dispersed.
“This is getting fucking ridiculous.”
“Dean?”
Cas’ was poking his head nervously around the corner of the door. Dean waved him into the room. When the angel turned the corner it became blaringly obvious that he was lugging all the shopping bags filled with his new wardrobe into the room.
“Where should I put these, Dean?”
Dean made a flicking motion towards the chest of drawers in the corner of the room.
“Take up however much space you want. I don’t think I have much in there right now.”
The angel nodded and grinned. He began to methodically pull out one piece of clothing at a time and tuck them perfectly into the two bottom drawers. When he was done, he reverently placed his neon orange sneakers next to Dean’s boots on the floor. He eyed the empty bags for a moment before titling his head just a fraction. The bags and shoebox evaporated into nothing. Dean snorted.
“Handy. Instant recycling?”
Cas pursed his lips and shrugged a single shoulder. The human mannerisms he was continuing to pick up made Dean want to use words like ‘adorable’ … and then subsequently stab out his own eyes for thinking so. The angel tugged off his jeans, folding them neatly before dumping them in the clothes hamper, then crawled into bed in his fucking apricot t-shirt and dark gray boxer briefs.
Dean grinned when Cas stretched out beside him, tucking his arm around Dean’s middle and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. It was a moment of intimacy that would have probably freaked Dean the hell out just a couple weeks ago, but now there was this bone deep connection to the angel that he just couldn’t deny. Even if they hadn’t made out again like desperate teenagers the connection was alive and well.
It was just … Dean really didn’t know what to do next. He understood the logistic of it, of course. Hell, he’d been practically a sex god since the tender age of fourteen. But this was all … different. He wasn’t sure what Cas was expecting from him, if anything, and would it even be something Dean would be able to provide? He had never been the steady relationship type.
Just Lisa … and look how quickly he had fled from that when Sammy came calling.
“You are thinking too much.”
Dean snorted and turned to meet a set of blazing blue eyes only inches from his own.
“Most people would say I don’t think enough.”
Cas smiled softly and thumped Dean’s stomach lightly with his fingers.
“Then they do not know the real you.”
With those words spoken, the angel closed his eyes and settled in for a night of rest. Dean continued to stare at him for several more moments, a little stunned.
“Huh.”
He finally turned his eyes back towards the ceiling and willed himself to sleep.
~*~
Cas woke up screaming like the hounds of Hell were ripping him to ribbons and Dean nearly had a heart attack. There wasn’t really enough time to process exactly what was going on before Cas was grasping at him desperately and keening low in his throat. The angel’s long fingers were skimming frantically over Dean’s face and down his neck and torso.
“Cas? CAS!”
Finally some semblance of reason sparked to life in the familiar blue eyes, and the angel’s breath grew steady and calm. Dean pushed a hand through Cas’ hair to cradle the back of his neck.
“What happened, Cas? Bad dream?”
The angel nodded but broke his gaze away to stare down at his hands, now lying lifelessly in his lap.
“Have you never had a bad dream before, Cas?”
There was a gentle head shake and a small grimace given in response.
“What did you see? Do you remember?”
Cas took a deep breath before speaking.
“You were being tortured, and I couldn’t- … I was helpless to stop it.”
Dean nodded in understanding and pulled Cas close, so that their foreheads were resting against each other.
“It was just a bad dream, Cas. It wasn’t real.”
The angel gripped him tightly, slightly sweaty fingertips slipping across Dean’s back to find purchase.
“It felt very real.”
Smiling softly and trying his best to be reassuring, Dean whispered, lips almost brushing against Castiel’s as he spoke.
“Yeah, sometimes they really do … but I’m right here, and I’m okay.”
Cas pulled away slightly and his gaze flicked down to Dean’s mouth. They hadn’t kissed since that moment on the floor of the cabin, and Dean was suddenly very conscious of that fact. Without thinking, he licked his lips, chewing the lower one just slightly for a want of something to do. Castiel’s eyes widened a fraction and that was all the warning Dean had before the angel practically launched himself at him.
Their lips slammed together and Cas took instantly to biting and suckling at Dean’s mouth. The ferocity of the kiss had Dean gasping, and the angel took advantage of his shock to delve his tongue inside, hot and deep. Cas pushed him backwards with his weight, and Dean allowed himself to fall back on the bed, his angel’s warm body splayed across him and pressing him into the mattress. For as long as Dean had been having sexual relations, he had always considered himself the aggressor. The one in charge. Whether it was because this was his first time with another man, or just because it was Cas … he found himself handing over control to the angel.
Cas shifted so that one leg slipped between Dean’s, and then his thigh was suddenly pressing deliciously against Dean’s crotch. Dean broke away from the kiss to gasp loudly and throw his head back, exposing his neck to Cas. The angel growled low in his throat before latching his mouth over the offered skin, nibbling and sucking bruises across its expanse, all the while rubbing his thigh maddeningly across Dean’s erection.
“Fuck… Cas … fuck … when did you … how …”
Complete sentences just weren’t happening. Not when Dean felt like his brain might be dribbling out of his ears. The sparks of pleasure lightening up and down his spine were unlike anything he could remember experiencing before. It honestly made him feel like all the sex he’d had before was just sex, and this was something else. Cas mumbled against Dean’s lips as he stretched up to kiss him again.
“I’ve been … researching…”
If he had been able to catch his breath, Dean would have chuckled.
“Researching?”
Cas hummed delightedly as he mouthed softly along Dean’s jaw.
“Yes. Sam showed me some very helpful websites on the internet-”
Thoughts of his little brother showing Cas what was probably, essentially gay porn made Dean’s heart stutter in embarrassment. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh no.
“-and Bobby suggested some literature. ‘Homosexual Intercourse for the Intellectually Challenged,’ I think?”
Horror warred with libido … and horror won. Dean froze and pushed against Castiel’s shoulders.
“You’ve been… you’ve been talking to Sam and Bobby? About sex with me?”
The angel seemed put out at being pushed away for a moment, before he realized that Dean was honestly horrified at the thought.
“I am sorry… should I not have?”
Dean screeched and levered himself to a seated position.
“NO!!”
Cas appeared honestly contrite, and Dean’s erection was definitely done for the night.
“No… Jesus, Cas! That’s … I mean … if you have questions, you can ask me, okay? Come straight to me and we’ll figure it out, okay?”
Castiel shrugged and flopped sideways on the bed, refusing to meet Dean’s gaze.
“I just didn’t understand. Nothing has happened since we left the cabin, and I thought perhaps you had changed your mind. That you didn’t want me … that way … anymore.”
Dean slumped forward until he could push Castiel onto his back, then he carefully laid his head down on the angel’s chest and wrapped his arms tightly around Cas’ middle. The angel cautiously raised his hand to thread his fingers through Dean’s short hair.
“I do still want you that way, Cas. Hell, we’ve been sleeping in the same bed for weeks. I just … I’m not good at this kind of thing, and I’ve never been with another man before, so I’m just taking my time a bit. Alright?”
He could feel the other man nod beneath him.
“I understand, Dean. We will wait until you are ready.”
Dean sighed against the fabric of Castiel’s shirt. The arousal and adrenaline that had been singing through his veins were both dissipating, and his eyes felt heavy with sleep.
“I do love you, Cas.”
The chest beneath him hummed with a happy purr as the fingers carding through his hair moved to gently swipe across Dean’s bottom lip.
“I love you, too, Dean.”
The hunter drifted off to sleep content with the steady thump of the angel’s heartbeat in his ear.
~*~
The next morning was oddly silent in the house. Everyone was seated at the table, but no one was really talking, Bobby and Sam were going out of their way to keep from meeting Dean’s eyes. Served them right, too. Let them be a little mortified now in the harsh light of morning. They probably thought sex had happened last night and were trying not to visualize it. Dean had the sudden urge to walk around like he had a sore ass and take the uncomfortable tension up a notch.
Just for shits and giggles.
Dean got a backwash of gingersnap cookies just before the sound of wings fluttered to life in the dining room.
“Good morning, lovelies!”
And that was just what he needed to ratchet up the bizarre day he was already having. Perfect.
“So, look, duckies … I have news…”
Something new slipped into the back of Dean’s throat. Super sweet and syrupy. Like rock candy and lollipops and cream soda. Just before the sound of wings repeated in the room, Dean dropped his head into hands and groaned.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“BABIES!!! I’VE MISSED YOU!!”
Sam spewed coffee across the table, Castiel shot to his feet, and Bobby sighed as he slipped some whiskey into his mug while Sheriff Mills was distracted by the newcomer. Dean raised his head, and sure enough … same little loud-mouthed shit with his bright eyes and trickster smirk.
“Gabriel.”
The arch-angel, who had been in the middle of hugging the life out of a horrified Sam, turned to Dean and grinned sincerely.
“Dean-o!! Sweetcheeks! Honey bear! Jesus Junior! It’s good to see you, you bastardy ball of angst!”
The smaller man wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and squeezed before planting a noisy kiss on the crown of his head. Then he was quickly distracted by Castiel, who seemed completely perplexed on the events of the morning. He didn’t even move as Gabriel hugged him close.
“Cas! Little bro! Look at you! You’ve said ‘no’ to tan! I knew you had it in you!”
“Gabriel? I … you are back?”
A pounding headache was slowly creeping into Dean’s skull that magnified with each voice that joined in the chorus of chaos echoing off the walls.
“You bet your sweet ass, I am!”
“I was asked to escort him here. He’s here. Please tell me I can go now.”
“God brought you back with the rest? When he fixed everything?”
“Or maybe it’s not your sweet ass… I’ve heard its Dean’s ass now.”
“But why are you here?”
“I’m gonna need a bigger house.”
“I beg of you, can I please leave? He gives me hives.”
“Bobby… what the hell is going on?”
“Fuck you, Balty! I’m adorable!”
“No seriously, why the hell are you here?”
“Why would it be Dean’s ass and not my own?”
That was it.
“SHUT UP!” *KA-CRACK*
A deafening thunderclap shook the house, rattling the windows and silencing everyone instantly. Well, almost everyone.
“Sorry, boss.”
“Can it, Gabriel.”
When Dean rose slowly from the chair and turned to face the room’s occupants, he was met with several expressions of utter shock… and a little fear, with the exception of Balthazar and Gabriel. It would figure that if Chuck had assigned them to Dean directly, they were already aware that he still had power at his disposal. He had managed to keep it under wraps from everyone else.
Sam swallowed.
“Dean-”
Dean held up a hand and his brother fell silent. Slowly crossing his arms over his chest, Dean tipped his head back until he could stare at the ceiling above him.
“We need to talk.”
The world whited out instantly around him, and there was Chuck sitting on the kitchen counter and swinging his legs.
“Hi, Dean!”
Dean sighed as his shoulders slumped.
“Seriously, Chuck? Gabriel? What the fuck am I supposed to do with an arch-angel turned trickster turned arch-angel?”
Chuck shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with the hem of his housecoat.
“Gabriel was so used to Earth, I knew he wouldn’t be happy with the Heavenly Host. Not to mention YOU were the one who managed to bring him back around and do what was right. He sacrificed himself for you … so I figured … he was kind of already yours anyway.”
The phrase about the weight of the world being put on your shoulders suddenly seemed very apt.
“Chuck …”
“Just think of all the good you’ll accomplish! You have three powerful angels at your disposal. All yours. Do you want any more? I can get you Uriel … or Ananiel, maybe?”
“OH, HELL NO-”
“Oooooh… you’re right. That would be kinda awkward now, wouldn’t it?”
“Chuck…”
The All-Father hummed in response. Dean glanced down at his own feet for a moment, surprised that they were bare and he was dressed in all white, like when he awoke from his moment of martyrdom.
“Did you happen to see what happened with Crowley?”
Something dark flashed across Chuck’s face for the briefest of seconds, but then he was all grins again.
“Don’t worry about Crowley.”
Dean nodded and watched as Chuck hopped down from the counter and the white began to bleed out of the room.
“Wait! I’m looking after three of your most dysfunctional kids… I want some alimony!”
Chuck laughed.
“Really, Dean?”
Stomping his foot like a toddler, Dean huffed.
“Do you realize how much candy Gabriel eats? And we don’t have any more rooms in the house, we’re already imposing on Bobby as it is, Cas has gone fashion diva on me … and I can’t really get money by nefarious purposes anymore, right? So what the heck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to provide?”
The smile he received in response to his words was warm and wide. Chuck reached out to rest a hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.
“Alright. I’ll help you out a bit. I’m so proud of you, Dean. You’re going to be just perfect.”
Dean blinked at the phrasing, but the white around him was already beginning to fade.
“Perfect for what, Chuck?”
Everything melted away quickly until he found himself standing in Bobby’s silent kitchen.
“Perfect for WHAT, you sneaky sonuvabitch!?”
Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Dean turned to find the swarm of people and angels just as he had left them. Gabriel was grinning so wide and bright it was amazing he hadn’t popped a blood vessel. Dean glared at him.
“What, Gabriel?”
“Did you just call our Father a sneaky son of a bitch… to his face?”
Dean shrugged one shoulder and the angel squealed in response.
“This is going to be so awesome! What are we gonna do first, boss? Come on, come on … give me an assignment!”
Before he could say anything in response, Sam slapped on epic bitchface #92 and stepped right up into Dean’s business.
“Uh… personal space, Sam?”
And fuck…epic flashback… with all that had changed, that was kinda hilarious right there.
“Dean. I deserve an explanation.”
Shrugging nonchalantly and side-stepping Mount Sam, Dean chugged down the rest of his coffee and spun on his heel to leave the kitchen.
“What kind of explanation, Sammy? Gabriel’s part of the family now. Woo-hoo! Look at us! We’re the official Brady Bunch of the Heavenly Host. He’s not the youngest, but personally I think that Gabe would look the most adorable with the curls.”
“HEY!”
Dean was honestly shocked when his arm was grabbed painfully and he was flung around to face a very pissed off looking little brother.
“Don’t make a joke of this, Dean, God dammit! You know exactly what I am talking about! There was a clap of fucking thunder that shook the house when you yelled! What. Is. Going. On.”
Dean rubbed his free hand wearily down his face.
“Nothing, Sam. It’s nothing. I promise.”
Sam looked like he wasn’t buying it one iota, but released Dean’s arm anyway.
“I know this is stupid to ask, because you never have before … but you would tell me if something was wrong, right Dean? You would tell me… because you promised me in that damn cabin that you would never leave me again. You promised.”
Sam’s eyes were a little glassy and wounded. It felt like a punch to Dean’s gut. He reached up slowly to grasp the back of Sam’s neck, and then brought his little brother down until they knocked foreheads.
“I’m not leaving you again, Sam. Never. I swear.”
Sam nodded and sniffed, but didn’t speak.
“Hey guys? Guys? Guys?”
Dean sighed and moved away from his brother.
“What, Gabriel?”
The smaller angel shrugged and pointed to the kitchen window.
“Just thought you might like to know that there’s a house in the backyard.”
Everyone in the kitchen save for Gabriel whipped around to stare out the window. Just visible was the corner of a building that hadn’t been there five minutes previously. The screen door slammed behind him as Dean sprinted out into the salvage yard and skidded to a stop. He could hear everyone else follow him out, but his main focus was on the rustic, two-story log cabin that was somehow squeezed between the towers of cars and scraps.
“What … the… hell…”
A movement caught his eye, and there, swinging slowly above the entrance to a wraparound porch was a wooden sign with the word ‘Alimony’ carved into the surface. A shocked laugh wrenched its way from Dean’s throat.
“Oh, you snarky bastard.”
He trotted in double-time over to the cabin and cautiously stepped up onto the porch. It was absolutely gorgeous. Something he had tucked away in his thoughts ages ago that he would like to have, but knew his lifestyle would never permit. Thick logs of cedar made up the walls of the cabin, stained a rich, beautiful rust color. The trim around the windows and the door were an aged hunter green, and four wooden rocking chairs were lined up on either side.
Hesitantly, Dean opened the front door and stepped inside. It looked like something straight out of a catalogue. Living room, dining room and kitchen in one big open floor plan with the same cedar walls and floor as the exterior. The furniture was all supple chocolate leather or distressed wood, with a giant stone fireplace in the corner. The kitchen had gleaming stainless steel appliances and honey quartz countertops that glowed with the butter rich light from the hanging lamps above the island bar.
There was a low, appreciative whistle from behind him before Gabriel’s voice spoke up.
“Man, oh, man. Pretty swanky. If you got this… I guess Dad got the car and the dogs, huh?”
Dean rolled his eyes but stepped further into the house towards the wrought iron spiral staircase in the back corner. He took the stairs slowly, one by one, to appreciate the amazing scrolling iron work that decorated them. When the second floor came into view he had to chuckle. There was just a short hallway with four doors. Each one bearing a carved wooden sign that matched the one hanging on the porch. Gabriel, Balthazar, Sam … Dean & Castiel.
Gabriel whooped loudly from behind him and took off towards his door.
“ME FIRST! ME FIRST!”
Balthazar snorted elegantly as he sauntered over toward his own door.
“I’m sure you understand that I’m not actually going to stay here. I feel as if I should don some track pants and begin planning for the arrival of the comet.”
Against his better judgment (never wise to admit to Balthazar that you might actually find him humorous) Dean chuckled at the statement as he continued to walk towards the door at the far end of the hallway marked Dean & Castiel. Subtle, apparently Chuck was not. He could have at least given Cas his own room for appearances sake. He slowly turned the handle and swung open the door.
A giant king size, rustic oak four poster bed sat dead center in the room. It was piled high with crisp white linens and a thick duvet. Matching oak side tables framed either side, with matching desks separated on the opposite wall. There were two intricately carved, massive oak wardrobes book-ending a long chest of drawers with two mirrors hanging on the wall above it. A large picture window faced east, and was opened to allow a subtle breeze to ripple the white floor length curtains in waves.
Dean was honestly … flabbergasted. He walked towards the right side of the bed (his usual side) and saw something gleaming on the side table. It was a Platinum credit card with his name on it, and a lime green post-it note that read, ‘to provide for the kids’ in a messy scrawl. Just then Sam squealed the equivalent of ‘OMG’ like a big girl from the vicinity of his room … and Dean lost it.
He collapsed on his new, ridiculously comfortable, bed in a fit of giggles and didn’t stop until his sides were screaming in pain.
CHAPTER THREE