Always with you - Chapter 4
Title: Always with you
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural AU/Romance
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Chuck/Becky, Sam/Sarah
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 46400
Warnings: some angst, mentions of violence, implied character death (disappearance)
Previous chapter: Chapter 3
Chapter four - I won't say I'm in love
In the end, the dinner wasn’t half bad. The back terrace was lit by the light of candles, a few torches, and the open fire in the fire pit. The steaks were delicious, and Becky made three kinds of salad to go with them. Soft music was playing in the background from hidden speakers, which even Dean had to admit was nice. It was only the four of them, and they had an immense amount of fun.
“Hey, guys, have we ever told you about how we met?” Becky asked all of a sudden, and Chuck groaned.
“You want to brag again how it was you asking me out on a date?” He rolled his eyes.
“It’s not my fault you were too yellow to ask me out.”
“Well, Becky, not for nothing, but you tend be kind of scary sometimes,” Castiel interjected.
“Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence. I am so happy to have you on my side,” she answered, sticking her tongue out.
“You’re welcome. So, how did you two meet?” Castiel asked. Dean leaned back in his chair comfortably, fixing his stare on Castiel. He had already heard the story before, and with Castiel listening intently to Becky, he could watch the other man without being noticed.
“Well, I was a trainee at the Blackhawk Publishing Company, and my job was to read the manuscripts sent to us, throw out the really crappy ones, and divide the remaining ones into genres and stuff, before sending them off to the editors. One day, this poor bastard,” She pointed at Chuck. “came in, and wanted me to take a look at his novel. He looked kinda pathetic, and I was in a mean mood that day, so I told him to sit down, and wait until I call for him.”
“I sat there for four and a half hours before she finally deigned to call for me.” Chuck took over. “I was this close to yelling her head off of her neck, but I really needed someone to take look at my novel, and Blackhawk was the only publisher I haven’t already got a negative answer from, so they were kind of my last chance. So, I gave her my manuscript, she read the first few pages, and…”
“And I started laughing loudly. Poor Chuck, he looked so terrified; he thought I was laughing at how bad his novel was, but I was laughing at something one of his characters said. I meant to tell him, but I couldn’t stop laughing for minutes, and by the time I did, he was already gone.”
“Of course I was gone, you hurt my feelings.”
“Aww, baby, I’m so sorry,” Becky cooed, before continuing. “I read the whole thing till the end that afternoon, and I passed it on to the nicest editor of the mystical horror-genre, because I really wanted to get it published. She refused to work with it, but she said that if I really liked it that much, I should try editing it myself, and maybe we could talk about it then. I did just that, and a month later I was officially the editor of “The woman in white”, since then known as the first part of the Supernatural-saga.”
“We met every Thursday, she was my number one fangirl, my best friend and my editor in one person, but I didn’t dare to ask her out, even though I was pretty sure she liked me as much as I liked her. Then, one day she looked surprisingly seriously at me, and she was like ‘are you going to ask me out someday, or do you want to wait till we both are old and gray?’.”
“I think my exact words were ‘do you want to wait until we both look like a Shtriga in her true form?’.” Becky grinned widely. “Shtriga is a creature from Supernatural, my favorite one by the way. For a moment he just gaped at me, mutely like a fish, but then he gritted out a no.”
“It was really awkward. Becky asked if I wanted to meet her later that day for a coffee, I said yes, and as they say, the rest of the story is already history.”
“That’s an unusual story, but nice. Maybe someday I will have a story like that on my own.” Castiel said, looking straight at his hands that lay folded in his lap.
“I’m sure you will,” Becky said, gently nudging Castiel and making him look up. His gaze met Dean’s, and for a while they stared at each
other, until Dean finally turned his head. After a few minutes of pensive silence, they started chatting again. Around two a.m. Castiel excused himself, and went to bed, leaving Dean alone with Chuck and Becky.
“By the way, Castiel is into guys. Also, he’s utterly and completely single,” Becky announced suddenly, looking pointedly at Dean.
“And why exactly are you sharing that important information with me?” He asked, trying to sound as sarcastic and uninterested as possible. Becky snorted.
“You think I’m blind or what? Every time he’s around, you only have eyes for him.”
“Well, I’d rather stare at him than at your or your boyfriend’s ugly mug,” Dean retorted, and Becky stuck out her tongue at him.
“Thanks so much for the nice compliment,” Chuck interjected, convincingly sounding like an emotionally hurt six years old.
“Oh hon, your mug is so not ugly,” Becky tried to comfort him, before turning her attention back at Dean. “C’mon, you really want to me go all Muses-from-Disney’s-Hercules on your ass? Because - believe it or not - I actually know the lyrics by heart.” She grinned, obviously proud of herself.
“God, please no. No Disney,” Dean groaned, burying his face into his palms.
“Then go, and ask Castiel out for a date,” Becky said, pointing in the general direction of the guest room Castiel was staying in.
“Why are you so intent on fixing us up?”
“You’re lonely, he’s lonely… you deserve a nice guy, he deserves a nice guy… you’re a nice guy, he’s a nice guy…. see what I’m doing there?”
“Yeah, smartass, I see. So, what you’re saying is that we should get together because it’s convenient?”
“Dean, sometimes I think you’re way too good with words to be a simple horse trainer/stable boy. I’m not suggesting that it’s convenient, I’m suggesting that maybe there’s more between you and him than simple friendship, or whatever the hell it is you think you have.”
“You know, she’s actually right,” Chuck piped in.
“Et tu mi fili, Chuck?” Dean rolled his eyes at his friend’s obvious betrayal.
“Yeah, me too.” Chuck mumbled, pulling Becky onto his lap. “Dean, I haven’t seen you this focused on anyone, ever. And I think he likes you too. You should try and give it a chance.”
“There’s nothing to give a chance to,” Dean was close to yelling at this point. He hated how well Chuck and Becky knew him, how he wasn’t able to hide something as mundane as a little crush from them. Becky just rolled her eyes at that, before starting to sing.
“Who do you think you’re kiddin’, he’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden, honey we can see right through you…”
“Ah, Becky, STOP!” Dean yelled. That was too much for him to handle. “Okay, I give up. You win. You’re right, I may have a crush on Cas. A crush, not more, not less. Don’t fantasize about our earth shattering love.” Yet, Dean added in his head. “Look, I’ve barely known him for a few days now. Also, he’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to seem overeager, rush into the house and take the door with me, you know. I will act on it, when I feel like it’s the right time to do so, and Becky, I swear to God, if you mention any of this to him, I’ll…”
“Skin me alive, I know.” Becky finished his sentence, sounding bored to death. “I won’t say a word to him, I promise.” She sighed, and quickly stood up to hug Dean. “I’m gonna be so happy when you two finally get your shit together, man up, and become a couple.”
“Becky, don’t go all fangirl on us, please,” Dean groaned, but deep down he was glad that Becky was so sure of Castiel and him eventually ending up as a couple.
“I’m just sayin’.” She answered, trying to look innocent. “I am kinda beat, I think I’m going to just leave this mess, and clean it up in the morning; I really want to go to bed. It’s not like someone would want to steal our used plates anyway. Chuck, sweetie, please don’t forget to put out the fire and the torches this time, I’d rather not have a near-fire again, okay?”
“That was only one time, and nothing happened!” Chuck expressed his indignation at Becky’s accusation.
“I know, but I’m still worried. Good night, guys, see you tomorrow.” She waved at them, and disappeared into the house. Chuck’s gaze followed her.
“She’s amazing,” He mumbled, more to himself than to Dean.
“She is. She’s also annoying, and nerdy. Just like you, thus the perfect significant other for you.”
“Thanks for that description. Really, I’m touched.” Chuck faked wiping a tear from his left eye. “But now that you mentioned that significant other thing… I’m kinda flirting with the idea of proposing to her, I’m just not sure how she’d react to that.”
“I am sure she’d be happy, and she’d say yes before you finished the question, but you’re asking for a relationship advice from me? You know my longest relationship with a human being lasted for a month, right?”
“I know… I’ll think a little more about this. Hey, do you want to help me clean up? Becky would appreciate if I did it for her.”
“Do I look like a maid to you?” Dean inquired dryly, but a few seconds later he stood up to help.
~.~.~.~.~.~“Holy shit, Castiel! Next time warn a guy before you sneak up on him, and scare him halfway to death!” Dean exclaimed. He was busy cleaning the stables when suddenly someone touched his shoulder from behind.
“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming in. The gate was shrieking quite loudly when moved, I was sure you noticed that. My bad,” Castiel apologized, leaning against the wall.
“Nah, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Tell me one thing though: How on Earth can you walk around without a sound in flip-flops?” He asked, nodding towards Castiel’s feet.
“I don’t think I am really as silent as you think I am. I was a little bored, and I thought I’d check up on you, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course I don’t. I have to finish this, but after that I’m free for a few hours. Do you have any plans?”
“Not really, but I think I’d like to see a little more of the countryside.”
“Has Chuck or Becky told you anything about the old wash-house?”
“They haven’t. Why?” Castiel asked interestedly, and Dean began talking.
“It’s kind of a local… myth. It’s actually a water wheel with an added house, built on a creek nearby, which feeds a little pond not very far from the wash-house. It’s not a pretty sight, really creepy if you ask me. Underneath it, there’s a cave, the Bone Chamber. It’s where rich people were put to sleep their last sleep, but not in coffins, they are fastened to the walls somehow. It looks like as if they’re just standing around there, fully clothed and all. The gases down there kept the corpses in pretty good shape, their clothes are still colorful, shoes shiny, but their hair and skin is de-colored. We could check it out, if you want to, it’s a twenty minutes walk.”
“I am not sure I want to check out something like that.”
“It’s cool though. Like I said, a little creepy, but it’s also exciting.”
“Okay, we can go,” Castiel shrugged, and Dean threw down the pitchfork he was holding in his hand.
“Let’s go then, I will finish this later. You should change shoes though; flip-flops are not the best choice for a walk like that.”
They arrived at the old wash-house half an hour later, with torches and flashlights in their hands. Castiel eyed the half-rock, half-wood building with obvious distrust. It was indeed creepy, but as Dean said, it was also exciting at the same time. The wash-house was ramshackle, dark, and it reeked of sulfur.
“We won’t be able to stay down there for too long, but we’ll have enough time to take a good look around,” Dean explained, and he opened the rotting wooden door, which shrieked loudly on its rusty hinges. “The legend has it that this wash-house once belonged to an old and ugly witch. No one knew her Christian name, only her family name, Kaiser. And they called her the Awful One. According to the myth, she wore black clothes, her hair was unkempt and greasy, she was warty, her eyes small like a rat’s… well, all in all, half of the neighborhood had nightmares featuring her, she was like an iron-nosed witch in a fairytale. The room we’re now standing in was her kitchen. The actual wash-house is at the other end of the building.”
The room was in fact clearly an old kitchen. There was an open fireplace, with dirty, black pots scattered all over it. Next to it, there was a table, fully covered with shards of broken plates. Upturned chairs were lying around it. At the end of the room, there was another door, and it was probably held in its proper place by the Holy Spirit, because Castiel was sure that it wasn’t the hinges. Dean poked at a glass jar on the shelf playfully, disturbing a huge spider’s dream in the process.
“Let’s go to the next room,” he said, walking towards the door. Castiel followed him, careful not to touch anything. “There was a girl named Gratia Lazan, who allegedly worked at the very same estate Chuck owns now, and one day she heard screaming from the wash-house,” Dean continued the story. “She came in to check it out, and she met the Awful One. She asked the witch about the screams, but of course she denied it was a human being yelling for the sheriff, and she managed to lock Gratia into the Bone Chamber.”
The room they arrived in once functioned as a bedroom, that much was sure, as there was a bed in the middle, which had clothes and a few small bones strewn all over it. Castiel shivered, and Dean looked worriedly at him.
“Man, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am, I just felt like something was crawling on my arm.”
“There’s nothing there,” Dean reassured him, and without thinking, he grabbed Castiel’s hand to hold it in his. “That’s the trap door to the Bone Chamber.” He pointed at a piece of rope on the floor, and when Castiel nodded, he pulled at it, opening the door. “Light the torches, and then we can go,” he instructed, and with the burning torches they descended into the dark cellar. When both of them safely reached the ground, Dean continued talking.” Down here, Gratia found two male corpses, and a man, who was still alive, but just barely. The Awful One thought that the lack of air and the presence of different gases would kill Gratia quickly, but she was too eager to check on her victim. What she saw when she came down was totally not what she expected. The girl was still on her feet, and she was holding a rusty sword. The witch wanted to curse the girl, but the sword began glowing, and after that it looked like it was new. In the end, the Awful One was killed, and the girl and the man she found both survived. One of the bodies here is actually holding a sword, pretty much like the one in the story, and the one holding it is a woman. I’ll show you in a second.”
The air in the chamber was heavy with gases and the smell of old clothes. Right next to the ladder, there was a corpse in a cardinal’s get-up, the cloak still bright crimson, the white patterns on it a little bluish, and the golden yarn they were sewn onto the mantle were glistening in the light of the torches. All the way to the end of the very long chamber, there were bodies; some of them looked like they were smiling, and some of them looked surprisingly alive, even with their greenish-yellowish skin. To Castiel’s surprise, one of the women had a necklace that was clearly made of gold still around her neck.
“How come this chamber was never robbed?” He asked, pointing at the jewelry.
“I don’t know. People around here are really superstitious. They don’t really like this place, that’s probably why. And the existence of the Bone Chamber is not known outside the village and the estates surrounding it, so… but it is still a little baffling. I mean, that necklace alone must be worth a smaller house. I’m not saying I wouldn’t like to have that amount of money, but stealing from a corpse? So not cool. And I’m probably not the only one thinking that. Now, we don’t have much time, the torches are already flickering, so we’ll have to leave soon,” Dean explained, and he started pulling Castiel towards the back of the chamber. “So, this is the woman I was talking about. Look at that sword. It’s beautiful, too bad it’s so rusty.”
“It is indeed beautiful.” Castiel agreed, admiring the careful handiwork on the weapon. He was strangely enchanted by the atmosphere of the Bone Chamber. He tried to imagine the life story of the people bound to rest in that weird cemetery, different scenarios playing in his head. The last flicker of his torch snapped him out of his reverie.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dean suggested, and Castiel nodded, letting the other man pull him towards the exit. They still held hands, but when they stepped outside the house, Dean let go of him, and Castiel didn’t reach out to reinstate the contact.
“We’ll check out the other half of the building some time later, now I need some sunlight. Can we go to the pond you mentioned earlier?”
“Of course,” Dean nodded, leading the way. The walk didn’t last longer than five minutes, and the sight of the tiny pond filled Castiel with childlike joy. He toed off his shoes while hurrying towards the shore, and by the time Dean caught up with him, Castiel was already ankle-deep in the water, chuckling at the cool touch of it.
“This is great. Better than any fancy swimming pool,” Castiel announced with a wide smile on his face. He acted like he was just discovering the world, or at least re-discovering it after forgetting everything, and the more Dean thought about that, the truer it seemed to be. He sank down onto the bright green grass, and stared at Castiel, trying to drink in his sight. The sun was shining from behind him, covering him with its ethereal light, and in that moment Dean couldn’t help but marvel at his beauty. His affection towards Castiel was completely baffling him, he wasn’t used to falling for people after such a short time, but apparently Castiel was the exception proving the rule. Dean sighed, and after some thinking the stepped out of his boots, and walked into the water, standing next to Castiel. The other man lifted his head, and for what seemed like an eternity, they looked into each other’s eyes, almost as if they were trying to decipher the secrets there. In the end it was Dean who broke the eye-contact, he wasn’t able to stand the heat of Castiel’s gaze any longer. He stepped out of the water, and sat down so that only his feet reached it.
“How long are you staying?” He asked, poking the wet sand under his soles with his toes.
“I’m not sure yet. Chuck said I can stay as long as I want, and I like it here. It’s quiet and beautiful. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this as much as I do,” Castiel answered, sitting down next to Dean. “I always thought I was a big city boy. It seems like I was wrong about that. It’s no surprise, I’ve been wrong about a lot of things in my life,” he muttered absentmindedly after a long pause Dean waited silently for him to continue, but instead, he stood up, shoes still in his hands. “I kept you from your work long enough now. We should return to the estate.”
Dean pulled on his boots, and groaned as he tried to stand up. Before he knew what was happening, Castiel grabbed his arm, and pulled him to his feet. The touch sent a shiver through Dean’s body, and he didn’t want Castiel to let go of him. The walk back to the estate was silent, but both of them felt completely comfortable with it.
“That was nice.” Castiel said when they reached the stable.
“Yeah, it was.” Dean agreed. “Hey, I almost forgot to ask you. Will you come to the Harvelle’s masquerade next weekend? It’s the best party of the summer, free food and booze.”
“This is the first time I’ve heard about it. I don’t think that I’ll go though, I don’t have suitable attire for an event like that.”
“Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we can figure something out,” they heard Becky’s voice from behind them. “I was just looking for Castiel to invite him.”
“Becks, are you stalking us?” Dean joked, and she rolled her eyes.
“Yes, clearly I have nothing better to do than following you both around. I just took a pause from editing. I really, really love Kresley Cole’s work, but I can’t take more than fifty pages at a time. Oh, apropos work, Chuck wants to talk to you, Dean.”
“Tell him I’m in the stable. Or, you know what? Tell him I’m anywhere else, but not in the stable. I have a faint idea what he wants to talk about, and I’m so not sure I want to talk about that.”
“That’s his work, Dean. He seemed to be pretty excited, so I don’t think it will be long till he comes looking for you himself.”
“Is this about the…” Castiel began, but Becky poked him into the ribs. “Ouch.” He glared at the girl, but kept his mouth shut.
“Okay then, Weirdy McWeirdertons.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows, and left to finish his work. Five minutes had barely passed before he heard the shriek of the entrance gate.
“Hey, Dean!” Chuck called out, entering the stable.
“Chuck, I’m in Gigette’s stall in the back. What’s so urgent?” Dean hollered back, without pausing in his work, shoveling the used hay into a wheelbarrow.
“I just want to ask you something, I’ll be there in a sec,” Chuck answered. He walked up to the door of the stall the other man was working in. “So, I know you hate it when I bother you with my novel…” he began, but Dean cut him short.
“Of course I hate it, because no matter what I say, if I say yes or no, you’ll still do what you wanted to originally do, so, why do you even bother asking? I can clearly remember saying no when you asked if you should send novel-Dean literally to hell, and yet he ended up there…”
“Because it would’ve sucked if someone or something magically saved him in the last minute!” Chuck exclaimed in defense of his decision.
“Let me reiterate then: Why do you even bother asking?” Dean said, deliberately throwing a forkful of used hay dangerously close to Chuck’s shoes.
“I just want to have your opinion on the matter.”
“Yeah, so you have something you can completely ignore, right? Remind me again, why did we even agree to use my and Sam’s names and base the characters of your novels on us?”
“I think I kinda blackmailed you into it.” Chuck actually had the decency to look a little ashamed at that.
“Oh, so now you admit that it was blackmailing? For years now, you kept denying it vehemently, but now the cat’s out of the bag.” Dean tried to sound at least a little angry, but he didn’t quite manage it.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I would be lying because, actually, I’m not sorry.” Chuck grinned. “Anyway, I just wanted to update you a little on my plans for the next few novels.”
“You mean, you want to gloat what a genius you are, and expect me to go all fangirl on your ass,” Dean teased.
“Only if you want to, I’m not sure I want to hear you hyperventilate and give out certain high-pitched noises, or see you faint, but hey, I don’t want to poop on your party.”
“I swear you sound like a freaking teenage girl sometimes,” Dean mumbled, shaking his head. “If you want to tell me something, do it quickly, I don’t have all day. You know, someone actually has to work here.”
“Okay.” Chuck almost glowed. “So, I think an angel will grip your alter ego tight and raise him from Perdition, because God has work for him. Lilith wants to break sixty-six seals to free Lucifer from Hell, and it will be the Winchesters’ job to stop her.”
“An angel,” Dean said disbelievingly.
“What? It only makes sense to make the good guys appear too… or, the not-so-bad guys. Most of the angels will be dicks with wings though, except that first one. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’ll make him a good guy. Also, I thought I’d base his name on Castiel, since it’s an angel’s name and all.”
“Chuck, are you sure you’re a successful writer, and not some delusional amateur fanficcer? Because my friend, you certainly sound like one right now.”
“Maybe. Or I am just lucky enough to be successful with my amateur fanfics,” Chuck retorted.
“Have you asked Castiel about this?”
“Yes, I did. He was quite excited about it, but he made me promise I’d ask for your opinion about the matter too.” Chuck looked down at the floor, poking at the stall door with the toe of his shoe.
“Well, if he’s okay with it, then I am too. It’s not like it would matter if I said no anyway…” Dean rolled his eyes.
“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go, and cook up a kick-ass entrance scene for Castiel’s alter ego.”
“You do that,” Dean muttered, and he began pushing the wheelbarrow toward the side exit leading to the compost heap. “Hey, Chuck?” He called after his boss.
“Yes, Dean?”
“I was thinking about restoring that garden pond between the pen and the practice track. Soon enough, Ben won’t need me to teach him anymore, and unless we’ll have a new client by then, I’ll have a lot more free time.”
“Oh, it’s not necessary. I can call someone to do it, if you want to have it fixed.”
“Chuck, I’m not asking because I want to have it fixed, but because I want to fix it myself.”
“If you want to…” He shrugged. “Just let me know what you need, and I’ll order it for you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Next chapter: Chapter 5
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural AU/Romance
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Chuck/Becky, Sam/Sarah
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 46400
Warnings: some angst, mentions of violence, implied character death (disappearance)
Previous chapter: Chapter 3
Chapter four - I won't say I'm in love
In the end, the dinner wasn’t half bad. The back terrace was lit by the light of candles, a few torches, and the open fire in the fire pit. The steaks were delicious, and Becky made three kinds of salad to go with them. Soft music was playing in the background from hidden speakers, which even Dean had to admit was nice. It was only the four of them, and they had an immense amount of fun.
“Hey, guys, have we ever told you about how we met?” Becky asked all of a sudden, and Chuck groaned.
“You want to brag again how it was you asking me out on a date?” He rolled his eyes.
“It’s not my fault you were too yellow to ask me out.”
“Well, Becky, not for nothing, but you tend be kind of scary sometimes,” Castiel interjected.
“Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence. I am so happy to have you on my side,” she answered, sticking her tongue out.
“You’re welcome. So, how did you two meet?” Castiel asked. Dean leaned back in his chair comfortably, fixing his stare on Castiel. He had already heard the story before, and with Castiel listening intently to Becky, he could watch the other man without being noticed.
“Well, I was a trainee at the Blackhawk Publishing Company, and my job was to read the manuscripts sent to us, throw out the really crappy ones, and divide the remaining ones into genres and stuff, before sending them off to the editors. One day, this poor bastard,” She pointed at Chuck. “came in, and wanted me to take a look at his novel. He looked kinda pathetic, and I was in a mean mood that day, so I told him to sit down, and wait until I call for him.”
“I sat there for four and a half hours before she finally deigned to call for me.” Chuck took over. “I was this close to yelling her head off of her neck, but I really needed someone to take look at my novel, and Blackhawk was the only publisher I haven’t already got a negative answer from, so they were kind of my last chance. So, I gave her my manuscript, she read the first few pages, and…”
“And I started laughing loudly. Poor Chuck, he looked so terrified; he thought I was laughing at how bad his novel was, but I was laughing at something one of his characters said. I meant to tell him, but I couldn’t stop laughing for minutes, and by the time I did, he was already gone.”
“Of course I was gone, you hurt my feelings.”
“Aww, baby, I’m so sorry,” Becky cooed, before continuing. “I read the whole thing till the end that afternoon, and I passed it on to the nicest editor of the mystical horror-genre, because I really wanted to get it published. She refused to work with it, but she said that if I really liked it that much, I should try editing it myself, and maybe we could talk about it then. I did just that, and a month later I was officially the editor of “The woman in white”, since then known as the first part of the Supernatural-saga.”
“We met every Thursday, she was my number one fangirl, my best friend and my editor in one person, but I didn’t dare to ask her out, even though I was pretty sure she liked me as much as I liked her. Then, one day she looked surprisingly seriously at me, and she was like ‘are you going to ask me out someday, or do you want to wait till we both are old and gray?’.”
“I think my exact words were ‘do you want to wait until we both look like a Shtriga in her true form?’.” Becky grinned widely. “Shtriga is a creature from Supernatural, my favorite one by the way. For a moment he just gaped at me, mutely like a fish, but then he gritted out a no.”
“It was really awkward. Becky asked if I wanted to meet her later that day for a coffee, I said yes, and as they say, the rest of the story is already history.”
“That’s an unusual story, but nice. Maybe someday I will have a story like that on my own.” Castiel said, looking straight at his hands that lay folded in his lap.
“I’m sure you will,” Becky said, gently nudging Castiel and making him look up. His gaze met Dean’s, and for a while they stared at each
other, until Dean finally turned his head. After a few minutes of pensive silence, they started chatting again. Around two a.m. Castiel excused himself, and went to bed, leaving Dean alone with Chuck and Becky.
“By the way, Castiel is into guys. Also, he’s utterly and completely single,” Becky announced suddenly, looking pointedly at Dean.
“And why exactly are you sharing that important information with me?” He asked, trying to sound as sarcastic and uninterested as possible. Becky snorted.
“You think I’m blind or what? Every time he’s around, you only have eyes for him.”
“Well, I’d rather stare at him than at your or your boyfriend’s ugly mug,” Dean retorted, and Becky stuck out her tongue at him.
“Thanks so much for the nice compliment,” Chuck interjected, convincingly sounding like an emotionally hurt six years old.
“Oh hon, your mug is so not ugly,” Becky tried to comfort him, before turning her attention back at Dean. “C’mon, you really want to me go all Muses-from-Disney’s-Hercules on your ass? Because - believe it or not - I actually know the lyrics by heart.” She grinned, obviously proud of herself.
“God, please no. No Disney,” Dean groaned, burying his face into his palms.
“Then go, and ask Castiel out for a date,” Becky said, pointing in the general direction of the guest room Castiel was staying in.
“Why are you so intent on fixing us up?”
“You’re lonely, he’s lonely… you deserve a nice guy, he deserves a nice guy… you’re a nice guy, he’s a nice guy…. see what I’m doing there?”
“Yeah, smartass, I see. So, what you’re saying is that we should get together because it’s convenient?”
“Dean, sometimes I think you’re way too good with words to be a simple horse trainer/stable boy. I’m not suggesting that it’s convenient, I’m suggesting that maybe there’s more between you and him than simple friendship, or whatever the hell it is you think you have.”
“You know, she’s actually right,” Chuck piped in.
“Et tu mi fili, Chuck?” Dean rolled his eyes at his friend’s obvious betrayal.
“Yeah, me too.” Chuck mumbled, pulling Becky onto his lap. “Dean, I haven’t seen you this focused on anyone, ever. And I think he likes you too. You should try and give it a chance.”
“There’s nothing to give a chance to,” Dean was close to yelling at this point. He hated how well Chuck and Becky knew him, how he wasn’t able to hide something as mundane as a little crush from them. Becky just rolled her eyes at that, before starting to sing.
“Who do you think you’re kiddin’, he’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden, honey we can see right through you…”
“Ah, Becky, STOP!” Dean yelled. That was too much for him to handle. “Okay, I give up. You win. You’re right, I may have a crush on Cas. A crush, not more, not less. Don’t fantasize about our earth shattering love.” Yet, Dean added in his head. “Look, I’ve barely known him for a few days now. Also, he’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to seem overeager, rush into the house and take the door with me, you know. I will act on it, when I feel like it’s the right time to do so, and Becky, I swear to God, if you mention any of this to him, I’ll…”
“Skin me alive, I know.” Becky finished his sentence, sounding bored to death. “I won’t say a word to him, I promise.” She sighed, and quickly stood up to hug Dean. “I’m gonna be so happy when you two finally get your shit together, man up, and become a couple.”
“Becky, don’t go all fangirl on us, please,” Dean groaned, but deep down he was glad that Becky was so sure of Castiel and him eventually ending up as a couple.
“I’m just sayin’.” She answered, trying to look innocent. “I am kinda beat, I think I’m going to just leave this mess, and clean it up in the morning; I really want to go to bed. It’s not like someone would want to steal our used plates anyway. Chuck, sweetie, please don’t forget to put out the fire and the torches this time, I’d rather not have a near-fire again, okay?”
“That was only one time, and nothing happened!” Chuck expressed his indignation at Becky’s accusation.
“I know, but I’m still worried. Good night, guys, see you tomorrow.” She waved at them, and disappeared into the house. Chuck’s gaze followed her.
“She’s amazing,” He mumbled, more to himself than to Dean.
“She is. She’s also annoying, and nerdy. Just like you, thus the perfect significant other for you.”
“Thanks for that description. Really, I’m touched.” Chuck faked wiping a tear from his left eye. “But now that you mentioned that significant other thing… I’m kinda flirting with the idea of proposing to her, I’m just not sure how she’d react to that.”
“I am sure she’d be happy, and she’d say yes before you finished the question, but you’re asking for a relationship advice from me? You know my longest relationship with a human being lasted for a month, right?”
“I know… I’ll think a little more about this. Hey, do you want to help me clean up? Becky would appreciate if I did it for her.”
“Do I look like a maid to you?” Dean inquired dryly, but a few seconds later he stood up to help.
~.~.~.~.~.~“Holy shit, Castiel! Next time warn a guy before you sneak up on him, and scare him halfway to death!” Dean exclaimed. He was busy cleaning the stables when suddenly someone touched his shoulder from behind.
“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming in. The gate was shrieking quite loudly when moved, I was sure you noticed that. My bad,” Castiel apologized, leaning against the wall.
“Nah, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Tell me one thing though: How on Earth can you walk around without a sound in flip-flops?” He asked, nodding towards Castiel’s feet.
“I don’t think I am really as silent as you think I am. I was a little bored, and I thought I’d check up on you, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course I don’t. I have to finish this, but after that I’m free for a few hours. Do you have any plans?”
“Not really, but I think I’d like to see a little more of the countryside.”
“Has Chuck or Becky told you anything about the old wash-house?”
“They haven’t. Why?” Castiel asked interestedly, and Dean began talking.
“It’s kind of a local… myth. It’s actually a water wheel with an added house, built on a creek nearby, which feeds a little pond not very far from the wash-house. It’s not a pretty sight, really creepy if you ask me. Underneath it, there’s a cave, the Bone Chamber. It’s where rich people were put to sleep their last sleep, but not in coffins, they are fastened to the walls somehow. It looks like as if they’re just standing around there, fully clothed and all. The gases down there kept the corpses in pretty good shape, their clothes are still colorful, shoes shiny, but their hair and skin is de-colored. We could check it out, if you want to, it’s a twenty minutes walk.”
“I am not sure I want to check out something like that.”
“It’s cool though. Like I said, a little creepy, but it’s also exciting.”
“Okay, we can go,” Castiel shrugged, and Dean threw down the pitchfork he was holding in his hand.
“Let’s go then, I will finish this later. You should change shoes though; flip-flops are not the best choice for a walk like that.”
They arrived at the old wash-house half an hour later, with torches and flashlights in their hands. Castiel eyed the half-rock, half-wood building with obvious distrust. It was indeed creepy, but as Dean said, it was also exciting at the same time. The wash-house was ramshackle, dark, and it reeked of sulfur.
“We won’t be able to stay down there for too long, but we’ll have enough time to take a good look around,” Dean explained, and he opened the rotting wooden door, which shrieked loudly on its rusty hinges. “The legend has it that this wash-house once belonged to an old and ugly witch. No one knew her Christian name, only her family name, Kaiser. And they called her the Awful One. According to the myth, she wore black clothes, her hair was unkempt and greasy, she was warty, her eyes small like a rat’s… well, all in all, half of the neighborhood had nightmares featuring her, she was like an iron-nosed witch in a fairytale. The room we’re now standing in was her kitchen. The actual wash-house is at the other end of the building.”
The room was in fact clearly an old kitchen. There was an open fireplace, with dirty, black pots scattered all over it. Next to it, there was a table, fully covered with shards of broken plates. Upturned chairs were lying around it. At the end of the room, there was another door, and it was probably held in its proper place by the Holy Spirit, because Castiel was sure that it wasn’t the hinges. Dean poked at a glass jar on the shelf playfully, disturbing a huge spider’s dream in the process.
“Let’s go to the next room,” he said, walking towards the door. Castiel followed him, careful not to touch anything. “There was a girl named Gratia Lazan, who allegedly worked at the very same estate Chuck owns now, and one day she heard screaming from the wash-house,” Dean continued the story. “She came in to check it out, and she met the Awful One. She asked the witch about the screams, but of course she denied it was a human being yelling for the sheriff, and she managed to lock Gratia into the Bone Chamber.”
The room they arrived in once functioned as a bedroom, that much was sure, as there was a bed in the middle, which had clothes and a few small bones strewn all over it. Castiel shivered, and Dean looked worriedly at him.
“Man, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am, I just felt like something was crawling on my arm.”
“There’s nothing there,” Dean reassured him, and without thinking, he grabbed Castiel’s hand to hold it in his. “That’s the trap door to the Bone Chamber.” He pointed at a piece of rope on the floor, and when Castiel nodded, he pulled at it, opening the door. “Light the torches, and then we can go,” he instructed, and with the burning torches they descended into the dark cellar. When both of them safely reached the ground, Dean continued talking.” Down here, Gratia found two male corpses, and a man, who was still alive, but just barely. The Awful One thought that the lack of air and the presence of different gases would kill Gratia quickly, but she was too eager to check on her victim. What she saw when she came down was totally not what she expected. The girl was still on her feet, and she was holding a rusty sword. The witch wanted to curse the girl, but the sword began glowing, and after that it looked like it was new. In the end, the Awful One was killed, and the girl and the man she found both survived. One of the bodies here is actually holding a sword, pretty much like the one in the story, and the one holding it is a woman. I’ll show you in a second.”
The air in the chamber was heavy with gases and the smell of old clothes. Right next to the ladder, there was a corpse in a cardinal’s get-up, the cloak still bright crimson, the white patterns on it a little bluish, and the golden yarn they were sewn onto the mantle were glistening in the light of the torches. All the way to the end of the very long chamber, there were bodies; some of them looked like they were smiling, and some of them looked surprisingly alive, even with their greenish-yellowish skin. To Castiel’s surprise, one of the women had a necklace that was clearly made of gold still around her neck.
“How come this chamber was never robbed?” He asked, pointing at the jewelry.
“I don’t know. People around here are really superstitious. They don’t really like this place, that’s probably why. And the existence of the Bone Chamber is not known outside the village and the estates surrounding it, so… but it is still a little baffling. I mean, that necklace alone must be worth a smaller house. I’m not saying I wouldn’t like to have that amount of money, but stealing from a corpse? So not cool. And I’m probably not the only one thinking that. Now, we don’t have much time, the torches are already flickering, so we’ll have to leave soon,” Dean explained, and he started pulling Castiel towards the back of the chamber. “So, this is the woman I was talking about. Look at that sword. It’s beautiful, too bad it’s so rusty.”
“It is indeed beautiful.” Castiel agreed, admiring the careful handiwork on the weapon. He was strangely enchanted by the atmosphere of the Bone Chamber. He tried to imagine the life story of the people bound to rest in that weird cemetery, different scenarios playing in his head. The last flicker of his torch snapped him out of his reverie.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dean suggested, and Castiel nodded, letting the other man pull him towards the exit. They still held hands, but when they stepped outside the house, Dean let go of him, and Castiel didn’t reach out to reinstate the contact.
“We’ll check out the other half of the building some time later, now I need some sunlight. Can we go to the pond you mentioned earlier?”
“Of course,” Dean nodded, leading the way. The walk didn’t last longer than five minutes, and the sight of the tiny pond filled Castiel with childlike joy. He toed off his shoes while hurrying towards the shore, and by the time Dean caught up with him, Castiel was already ankle-deep in the water, chuckling at the cool touch of it.
“This is great. Better than any fancy swimming pool,” Castiel announced with a wide smile on his face. He acted like he was just discovering the world, or at least re-discovering it after forgetting everything, and the more Dean thought about that, the truer it seemed to be. He sank down onto the bright green grass, and stared at Castiel, trying to drink in his sight. The sun was shining from behind him, covering him with its ethereal light, and in that moment Dean couldn’t help but marvel at his beauty. His affection towards Castiel was completely baffling him, he wasn’t used to falling for people after such a short time, but apparently Castiel was the exception proving the rule. Dean sighed, and after some thinking the stepped out of his boots, and walked into the water, standing next to Castiel. The other man lifted his head, and for what seemed like an eternity, they looked into each other’s eyes, almost as if they were trying to decipher the secrets there. In the end it was Dean who broke the eye-contact, he wasn’t able to stand the heat of Castiel’s gaze any longer. He stepped out of the water, and sat down so that only his feet reached it.
“How long are you staying?” He asked, poking the wet sand under his soles with his toes.
“I’m not sure yet. Chuck said I can stay as long as I want, and I like it here. It’s quiet and beautiful. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this as much as I do,” Castiel answered, sitting down next to Dean. “I always thought I was a big city boy. It seems like I was wrong about that. It’s no surprise, I’ve been wrong about a lot of things in my life,” he muttered absentmindedly after a long pause Dean waited silently for him to continue, but instead, he stood up, shoes still in his hands. “I kept you from your work long enough now. We should return to the estate.”
Dean pulled on his boots, and groaned as he tried to stand up. Before he knew what was happening, Castiel grabbed his arm, and pulled him to his feet. The touch sent a shiver through Dean’s body, and he didn’t want Castiel to let go of him. The walk back to the estate was silent, but both of them felt completely comfortable with it.
“That was nice.” Castiel said when they reached the stable.
“Yeah, it was.” Dean agreed. “Hey, I almost forgot to ask you. Will you come to the Harvelle’s masquerade next weekend? It’s the best party of the summer, free food and booze.”
“This is the first time I’ve heard about it. I don’t think that I’ll go though, I don’t have suitable attire for an event like that.”
“Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we can figure something out,” they heard Becky’s voice from behind them. “I was just looking for Castiel to invite him.”
“Becks, are you stalking us?” Dean joked, and she rolled her eyes.
“Yes, clearly I have nothing better to do than following you both around. I just took a pause from editing. I really, really love Kresley Cole’s work, but I can’t take more than fifty pages at a time. Oh, apropos work, Chuck wants to talk to you, Dean.”
“Tell him I’m in the stable. Or, you know what? Tell him I’m anywhere else, but not in the stable. I have a faint idea what he wants to talk about, and I’m so not sure I want to talk about that.”
“That’s his work, Dean. He seemed to be pretty excited, so I don’t think it will be long till he comes looking for you himself.”
“Is this about the…” Castiel began, but Becky poked him into the ribs. “Ouch.” He glared at the girl, but kept his mouth shut.
“Okay then, Weirdy McWeirdertons.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows, and left to finish his work. Five minutes had barely passed before he heard the shriek of the entrance gate.
“Hey, Dean!” Chuck called out, entering the stable.
“Chuck, I’m in Gigette’s stall in the back. What’s so urgent?” Dean hollered back, without pausing in his work, shoveling the used hay into a wheelbarrow.
“I just want to ask you something, I’ll be there in a sec,” Chuck answered. He walked up to the door of the stall the other man was working in. “So, I know you hate it when I bother you with my novel…” he began, but Dean cut him short.
“Of course I hate it, because no matter what I say, if I say yes or no, you’ll still do what you wanted to originally do, so, why do you even bother asking? I can clearly remember saying no when you asked if you should send novel-Dean literally to hell, and yet he ended up there…”
“Because it would’ve sucked if someone or something magically saved him in the last minute!” Chuck exclaimed in defense of his decision.
“Let me reiterate then: Why do you even bother asking?” Dean said, deliberately throwing a forkful of used hay dangerously close to Chuck’s shoes.
“I just want to have your opinion on the matter.”
“Yeah, so you have something you can completely ignore, right? Remind me again, why did we even agree to use my and Sam’s names and base the characters of your novels on us?”
“I think I kinda blackmailed you into it.” Chuck actually had the decency to look a little ashamed at that.
“Oh, so now you admit that it was blackmailing? For years now, you kept denying it vehemently, but now the cat’s out of the bag.” Dean tried to sound at least a little angry, but he didn’t quite manage it.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I would be lying because, actually, I’m not sorry.” Chuck grinned. “Anyway, I just wanted to update you a little on my plans for the next few novels.”
“You mean, you want to gloat what a genius you are, and expect me to go all fangirl on your ass,” Dean teased.
“Only if you want to, I’m not sure I want to hear you hyperventilate and give out certain high-pitched noises, or see you faint, but hey, I don’t want to poop on your party.”
“I swear you sound like a freaking teenage girl sometimes,” Dean mumbled, shaking his head. “If you want to tell me something, do it quickly, I don’t have all day. You know, someone actually has to work here.”
“Okay.” Chuck almost glowed. “So, I think an angel will grip your alter ego tight and raise him from Perdition, because God has work for him. Lilith wants to break sixty-six seals to free Lucifer from Hell, and it will be the Winchesters’ job to stop her.”
“An angel,” Dean said disbelievingly.
“What? It only makes sense to make the good guys appear too… or, the not-so-bad guys. Most of the angels will be dicks with wings though, except that first one. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’ll make him a good guy. Also, I thought I’d base his name on Castiel, since it’s an angel’s name and all.”
“Chuck, are you sure you’re a successful writer, and not some delusional amateur fanficcer? Because my friend, you certainly sound like one right now.”
“Maybe. Or I am just lucky enough to be successful with my amateur fanfics,” Chuck retorted.
“Have you asked Castiel about this?”
“Yes, I did. He was quite excited about it, but he made me promise I’d ask for your opinion about the matter too.” Chuck looked down at the floor, poking at the stall door with the toe of his shoe.
“Well, if he’s okay with it, then I am too. It’s not like it would matter if I said no anyway…” Dean rolled his eyes.
“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go, and cook up a kick-ass entrance scene for Castiel’s alter ego.”
“You do that,” Dean muttered, and he began pushing the wheelbarrow toward the side exit leading to the compost heap. “Hey, Chuck?” He called after his boss.
“Yes, Dean?”
“I was thinking about restoring that garden pond between the pen and the practice track. Soon enough, Ben won’t need me to teach him anymore, and unless we’ll have a new client by then, I’ll have a lot more free time.”
“Oh, it’s not necessary. I can call someone to do it, if you want to have it fixed.”
“Chuck, I’m not asking because I want to have it fixed, but because I want to fix it myself.”
“If you want to…” He shrugged. “Just let me know what you need, and I’ll order it for you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Next chapter: Chapter 5