FIC: "To Be a Winchester" by shadow_artemis - PG - (8/14)
Title: To Be a Winchester: Driving (8/14)
Author: shadow_artemis
Characters/Pairing: Dean, Castiel (pre-Destiel if you want it to be)
Rating: PG for language
Summary: It had all started out so simply: “If you’re gonna be apart of this family, you’re gonna have to start acting like a Winchester.” Now Dean wasn't so sure.
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I'm just a college bum. I owe more than I own.
Notes: Once again, post-Apocalypse. It comes after chapter six.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Anxiously, Dean rapped his fingers on the dashboard. Keys jingled in the ignition, but the only other sound in the car was the inconsistent fumbling of the pre-driving seat and mirror check that Dean had insisted on. It usually wasn’t necessary, especially for people who drove the same car frequently, but it was really just for his peace of mind now. After all, he hardly liked it when Sam drove his car, and the kid had known how to drive for almost fifteen years, ten of those legally. If Castiel was going to drive his car, they were going to go through every barely necessary safety measure before they hit the road.
Another five minutes of mirror perfecting passed, with Dean growing more impatient by the moment. Sure, it was great that the angel was being cautious, especially with his baby, but the anxiousness was creeping up on him, growing like a hot, squirming wad of worms in his stomach.
“They're fine,” he snapped, sun beating down on him through the open passenger window and adding to his overall discomfort. Cas turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.
“You sure? I know this makes you nervous.” This rang so true, Dean suspected the angel had read his mind, but at the same moment, he realized how tight his grip was on the inner door handle to his right, how intently he'd been staring at the other man, how erratic his fingers drumming on the dashboard must have sounded. All dead giveaways.
Until now, the whole post-Apocalyptic heyday had been their primary focus-hunting down the straggling demons, cleaning up the towns where the biggest fights had taken place, trying to bring anything resembling order to the chaos that had almost destroyed the planet. It had taken nearly a month, with hunts and side trips cropping up every so often, but the world was nearly back to its pre-Apocalypse state, save for the slightly larger hunting population that had cropped up to combat the End of Days and the occasional rogue demon.
Even with the few fixes that still needed attention, things were almost... Relaxing. They could get back to the basics, just hunting regular monsters without the survival of humanity resting on their shoulders. All that remained was the usual strain of the hunting life, and even that didn't seem so bad anymore. They spent most of their off time at Bobby's, recuperating and researching, making sure that nothing like this ever happened again, at least in their lifetimes. They could mostly sit back and enjoy a temporarily quiet life; it seemed that even the monsters of the world were happy to just relax for a while. There were a few hunts, but the boys could handle those, no problem.
Somehow, this calm must not have felt right in some dark corner of Dean's mind, because he'd felt the need to continue Castiel's education by teaching him how to drive. After all, he was staying on Earth indefinitely, becoming the unofficial third Winchester (alive, that was); he'd need to know more than just how to shoot and cook if he was going to be entirely useful. Any hunter worth their rock salt had to make a quick getaway sometimes.
Like a few lessons in the past, the eldest Winchester was beginning to doubt this decision.
“Just get on with it,” he ordered, releasing his death grip on the door handle despite continuing reservations about how intelligent this idea really was. With one last, lingering look, Cas finally moved on from the preliminary checks and got down to business. His pushed the keys into the ignition, turning the engine over with nothing resembling the hesitance he'd displayed when these driving lessons first began. The car's familiar roar filled the air, and Dean relaxed at the sound, if only slightly.
With only a momentary glance to his passenger, Cas pressed down on the brake and shifted into drive. Dean's intense gaze beat down on the angel, taking stock of just how smoothly the car slowly began to roll forward. So far, so good. The elder Winchester was only vaguely surprised. Cas may have been oblivious when it came to most social things, but he learned quickly when he was paying attention. It almost made Dean wonder what the angel had been watching for two thousand years to know so little about human behavior.
The Impala meandered to the edge of the junkyard, hesitating at the entrance as Castiel glanced both ways down the empty two lane road.
“Which way should we go?” he asked, eyes alternating between watching each way but never leaving the road. Dean eyed both options.
“Just go right,” he answered. Obediently, like the good angel he had once been, he flicked on the right turn signal and moved onto the long South Dakota road. Even as they went farther on, they barely moved above idling speed, no more than five or six miles an hour and apparently not anxious to go any faster. The pace nearly killed Dean. He'd spent his life pushing the limits of his car and the law just trying to make it across the country in the least amount of time; this snail's pace seemed impossibly slow to him. “Jesus, Cas, you're not eighty. You can go a little faster.”
“I'm much older than eighty, Dean,” the angel replied, the hint of a smile betraying the fact that he knew exactly what Dean meant. Seeing that faint grin made the hunter smile, too.
“Yeah, whatever, smartass,” he grumbled, but his words weren't anything more than playful jostling. “Just quit driving like an old lady.” With a lingering grin, the angel put on the gas. Casually, the car slipped into the next gear as they sped up, making Dean feel a little more comfortable as they world began to blur together.
The roads around Bobby's house were long and usually pretty empty, and today was no different. The elder Winchester supposed it was part of their continuing good luck-ever since their near run-in with the End of Days, things had been going stunningly well, especially for their usually shit-filled lives. Dean had expected something to go wrong, and while he was still sure things would go to pot again eventually, he wasn't going to question things while they were still good.
Right now, he was glad that Cas' first time on real roads was going so well. Dean showed him the ropes on the junkyard paths, with no interference from other cars, and only basic explanations of street signs. The guy still had a lot of experience learning to do, on the road and in life, but when it came to technical skills, he actually picked them up fairly quickly. Unless he was being stubborn, of course.
They approached a stop sign; braking gently, the angel came to a full stop. Dean himself would've just California rolled through the stop, but he wasn't about to completely corrupt the guy, at least when it came to driving. Both men glanced around, but unsurprisingly, there were no other cars, so the driver looked to his passenger.
“Which way?” he asked. Still more familiar with teleportation and flying than linear travel, he hadn't quite picked up the layout of the roads around even the most familiar of places. Apparently, he couldn't just pick up paths from being a passenger. Hopefully that would change now that he was actually driving, otherwise they were going to have a problem. A getaway driver wasn't very handy if he had no idea where he was going.
“You can go either way, as long as we end up back at Bobby's eventually,” the hunter replied. When the driver glanced around again, brow furrowed as he scrutinized each option, Dean shrugged. “Dude, don't you have some sort of Heavenly GPS in there with your brand new mojo? Just lojack Bobby's house until you can get a feel for the roads.”
Cas gave him the usual raised eyebrow, still unfamiliar with some of the jargon the hunter used, but turned left anyway. Dean was well-acquainted with the south-bound road; the hum of the engine and the fields rolling by instantly put him in a state of calm that had nearly become normal. Nearly. They still fought monsters, after all.
The angel seemed to be more at ease with driving than he'd been with most human things he'd done over the last few years; Sam would probably comment that it was all their emerging similarities that made Cas such a natural driver. Dean would've told Sam to shut up, but the kid wasn't here now, so it didn't matter. Right now, he was enjoying the cool breeze whipping in through the passenger window, glancing between the scenery zipping by outside and the angel at the wheel. It was almost funny, with that song about God taking the -
Dean was violently jarred to full awareness by the sudden blaring of not one, but two horns. The Impala veering drastically to the right, barely avoiding the bright blue vehicle careening through the intersection. The black car came to a full stop halfway onto the shoulder, with the rear end of the classic sticking out into the road. Swearing profusely, Dean was out of the car like a shot, running behind the fleeing blue car. Cas was right behind him, leaving the Impala parked askew and murmuring a few of his own choice swears, both in English and Enochian.
“I had the right of way,” the angel insisted as the offending vehicle disappeared into the distance. He gestured to the stop sign behind him, then to the total lack of one on their side of the road. “What the hell was his problem?”
“He's friggin' crazy, that's what,” Dean shouted angrily, running a hand through his hair as he turned to face his friend. The surging fervor was evident in his eyes, but the rest of his face only revealed a dismayed frown. He eyed his car protectively, searching out any damage. “Nearly could've destroyed my baby.”
“And killed us,” Cas added, with all the reverence for death a thrice-dead immortal angel could muster. “Again.”
“Yeah, that too,” the hunter replied distractedly, turning back to where the offending blue car had vanished. Suddenly filled with wrath again, if the way his shoulders tensed was any indication, Dean yelled, “Doesn't anyone have respect for road etiquette anymore?” He released a constricted sigh and was back to looking at Castiel, hands behind his head. A lopsided smile fell across his lips, some of his stress melting away with another glance to the Impala. “Still, nice driving, dude. You were like an action star, steering us out of the way like that.”
“Thanks,” the angel said simply, matching Dean's smile with one of his own. The elder Winchester eventually started back to the car, more relaxed now. Cas leaned on the roof until Dean made it back, soaking up the radiant warmth of the car and the quiet crunch of grass and gravel under his friend's boots. Human life was peaceful now, at least most of the time. He could enjoy a few seconds of it, at least.
Back at the car, Dean leaned similarly on the roof-the inner Sam-voice that he hated to admit existed laughed once again at how alike they were-and closed his eyes to the sunlight, allowing the last of the stress of their brush with idiocy to slip away. After a shared moment of peace, he opened his eyes again to grin lopsidedly at Cas.
“Another road lesson? Everyone else out there is an idiot who's trying to kill you.” One of the angel's eyebrows arched interestedly, smile quirking his lips.
“I'll keep that in mind.”
Author: shadow_artemis
Characters/Pairing: Dean, Castiel (pre-Destiel if you want it to be)
Rating: PG for language
Summary: It had all started out so simply: “If you’re gonna be apart of this family, you’re gonna have to start acting like a Winchester.” Now Dean wasn't so sure.
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I'm just a college bum. I owe more than I own.
Notes: Once again, post-Apocalypse. It comes after chapter six.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Anxiously, Dean rapped his fingers on the dashboard. Keys jingled in the ignition, but the only other sound in the car was the inconsistent fumbling of the pre-driving seat and mirror check that Dean had insisted on. It usually wasn’t necessary, especially for people who drove the same car frequently, but it was really just for his peace of mind now. After all, he hardly liked it when Sam drove his car, and the kid had known how to drive for almost fifteen years, ten of those legally. If Castiel was going to drive his car, they were going to go through every barely necessary safety measure before they hit the road.
Another five minutes of mirror perfecting passed, with Dean growing more impatient by the moment. Sure, it was great that the angel was being cautious, especially with his baby, but the anxiousness was creeping up on him, growing like a hot, squirming wad of worms in his stomach.
“They're fine,” he snapped, sun beating down on him through the open passenger window and adding to his overall discomfort. Cas turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.
“You sure? I know this makes you nervous.” This rang so true, Dean suspected the angel had read his mind, but at the same moment, he realized how tight his grip was on the inner door handle to his right, how intently he'd been staring at the other man, how erratic his fingers drumming on the dashboard must have sounded. All dead giveaways.
Until now, the whole post-Apocalyptic heyday had been their primary focus-hunting down the straggling demons, cleaning up the towns where the biggest fights had taken place, trying to bring anything resembling order to the chaos that had almost destroyed the planet. It had taken nearly a month, with hunts and side trips cropping up every so often, but the world was nearly back to its pre-Apocalypse state, save for the slightly larger hunting population that had cropped up to combat the End of Days and the occasional rogue demon.
Even with the few fixes that still needed attention, things were almost... Relaxing. They could get back to the basics, just hunting regular monsters without the survival of humanity resting on their shoulders. All that remained was the usual strain of the hunting life, and even that didn't seem so bad anymore. They spent most of their off time at Bobby's, recuperating and researching, making sure that nothing like this ever happened again, at least in their lifetimes. They could mostly sit back and enjoy a temporarily quiet life; it seemed that even the monsters of the world were happy to just relax for a while. There were a few hunts, but the boys could handle those, no problem.
Somehow, this calm must not have felt right in some dark corner of Dean's mind, because he'd felt the need to continue Castiel's education by teaching him how to drive. After all, he was staying on Earth indefinitely, becoming the unofficial third Winchester (alive, that was); he'd need to know more than just how to shoot and cook if he was going to be entirely useful. Any hunter worth their rock salt had to make a quick getaway sometimes.
Like a few lessons in the past, the eldest Winchester was beginning to doubt this decision.
“Just get on with it,” he ordered, releasing his death grip on the door handle despite continuing reservations about how intelligent this idea really was. With one last, lingering look, Cas finally moved on from the preliminary checks and got down to business. His pushed the keys into the ignition, turning the engine over with nothing resembling the hesitance he'd displayed when these driving lessons first began. The car's familiar roar filled the air, and Dean relaxed at the sound, if only slightly.
With only a momentary glance to his passenger, Cas pressed down on the brake and shifted into drive. Dean's intense gaze beat down on the angel, taking stock of just how smoothly the car slowly began to roll forward. So far, so good. The elder Winchester was only vaguely surprised. Cas may have been oblivious when it came to most social things, but he learned quickly when he was paying attention. It almost made Dean wonder what the angel had been watching for two thousand years to know so little about human behavior.
The Impala meandered to the edge of the junkyard, hesitating at the entrance as Castiel glanced both ways down the empty two lane road.
“Which way should we go?” he asked, eyes alternating between watching each way but never leaving the road. Dean eyed both options.
“Just go right,” he answered. Obediently, like the good angel he had once been, he flicked on the right turn signal and moved onto the long South Dakota road. Even as they went farther on, they barely moved above idling speed, no more than five or six miles an hour and apparently not anxious to go any faster. The pace nearly killed Dean. He'd spent his life pushing the limits of his car and the law just trying to make it across the country in the least amount of time; this snail's pace seemed impossibly slow to him. “Jesus, Cas, you're not eighty. You can go a little faster.”
“I'm much older than eighty, Dean,” the angel replied, the hint of a smile betraying the fact that he knew exactly what Dean meant. Seeing that faint grin made the hunter smile, too.
“Yeah, whatever, smartass,” he grumbled, but his words weren't anything more than playful jostling. “Just quit driving like an old lady.” With a lingering grin, the angel put on the gas. Casually, the car slipped into the next gear as they sped up, making Dean feel a little more comfortable as they world began to blur together.
The roads around Bobby's house were long and usually pretty empty, and today was no different. The elder Winchester supposed it was part of their continuing good luck-ever since their near run-in with the End of Days, things had been going stunningly well, especially for their usually shit-filled lives. Dean had expected something to go wrong, and while he was still sure things would go to pot again eventually, he wasn't going to question things while they were still good.
Right now, he was glad that Cas' first time on real roads was going so well. Dean showed him the ropes on the junkyard paths, with no interference from other cars, and only basic explanations of street signs. The guy still had a lot of experience learning to do, on the road and in life, but when it came to technical skills, he actually picked them up fairly quickly. Unless he was being stubborn, of course.
They approached a stop sign; braking gently, the angel came to a full stop. Dean himself would've just California rolled through the stop, but he wasn't about to completely corrupt the guy, at least when it came to driving. Both men glanced around, but unsurprisingly, there were no other cars, so the driver looked to his passenger.
“Which way?” he asked. Still more familiar with teleportation and flying than linear travel, he hadn't quite picked up the layout of the roads around even the most familiar of places. Apparently, he couldn't just pick up paths from being a passenger. Hopefully that would change now that he was actually driving, otherwise they were going to have a problem. A getaway driver wasn't very handy if he had no idea where he was going.
“You can go either way, as long as we end up back at Bobby's eventually,” the hunter replied. When the driver glanced around again, brow furrowed as he scrutinized each option, Dean shrugged. “Dude, don't you have some sort of Heavenly GPS in there with your brand new mojo? Just lojack Bobby's house until you can get a feel for the roads.”
Cas gave him the usual raised eyebrow, still unfamiliar with some of the jargon the hunter used, but turned left anyway. Dean was well-acquainted with the south-bound road; the hum of the engine and the fields rolling by instantly put him in a state of calm that had nearly become normal. Nearly. They still fought monsters, after all.
The angel seemed to be more at ease with driving than he'd been with most human things he'd done over the last few years; Sam would probably comment that it was all their emerging similarities that made Cas such a natural driver. Dean would've told Sam to shut up, but the kid wasn't here now, so it didn't matter. Right now, he was enjoying the cool breeze whipping in through the passenger window, glancing between the scenery zipping by outside and the angel at the wheel. It was almost funny, with that song about God taking the -
Dean was violently jarred to full awareness by the sudden blaring of not one, but two horns. The Impala veering drastically to the right, barely avoiding the bright blue vehicle careening through the intersection. The black car came to a full stop halfway onto the shoulder, with the rear end of the classic sticking out into the road. Swearing profusely, Dean was out of the car like a shot, running behind the fleeing blue car. Cas was right behind him, leaving the Impala parked askew and murmuring a few of his own choice swears, both in English and Enochian.
“I had the right of way,” the angel insisted as the offending vehicle disappeared into the distance. He gestured to the stop sign behind him, then to the total lack of one on their side of the road. “What the hell was his problem?”
“He's friggin' crazy, that's what,” Dean shouted angrily, running a hand through his hair as he turned to face his friend. The surging fervor was evident in his eyes, but the rest of his face only revealed a dismayed frown. He eyed his car protectively, searching out any damage. “Nearly could've destroyed my baby.”
“And killed us,” Cas added, with all the reverence for death a thrice-dead immortal angel could muster. “Again.”
“Yeah, that too,” the hunter replied distractedly, turning back to where the offending blue car had vanished. Suddenly filled with wrath again, if the way his shoulders tensed was any indication, Dean yelled, “Doesn't anyone have respect for road etiquette anymore?” He released a constricted sigh and was back to looking at Castiel, hands behind his head. A lopsided smile fell across his lips, some of his stress melting away with another glance to the Impala. “Still, nice driving, dude. You were like an action star, steering us out of the way like that.”
“Thanks,” the angel said simply, matching Dean's smile with one of his own. The elder Winchester eventually started back to the car, more relaxed now. Cas leaned on the roof until Dean made it back, soaking up the radiant warmth of the car and the quiet crunch of grass and gravel under his friend's boots. Human life was peaceful now, at least most of the time. He could enjoy a few seconds of it, at least.
Back at the car, Dean leaned similarly on the roof-the inner Sam-voice that he hated to admit existed laughed once again at how alike they were-and closed his eyes to the sunlight, allowing the last of the stress of their brush with idiocy to slip away. After a shared moment of peace, he opened his eyes again to grin lopsidedly at Cas.
“Another road lesson? Everyone else out there is an idiot who's trying to kill you.” One of the angel's eyebrows arched interestedly, smile quirking his lips.
“I'll keep that in mind.”