Snow, for grasshopr_molly
Title: Snow
Recipient: grasshopr_molly
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2,100
Warnings: Mentions of general canon events beginning of S9
Author's Notes: This is a little slightly-AU thing that gave me a chance to write about fluffy bathrobes (don’t know why I’m obsessed with them but I am) and write about Castiel for the first time, too. From the prompt “Snowed in, featuring Team Free Will”
Also, so much love to my two wonderful betas!
Summary: Castiel can’t go home…but maybe that’s okay.
When Cas first arrived at the Bunker, there had been some discussion about the robe. Which was perplexing, being that there had already been a discussion, all be it about the lack of robe. So a further discussion about appropriate and inappropriate wearing of a robe seemed slightly 'over the top'.
Cas was getting there. It was slow going but he was getting there. He'd always suspected that being human was quite complicated. As an angel, he had long noticed that many people seemed to find even basic existence quite troubling but having lost his grace and gaining humanity, Cas could now see clearly that, yes, it was very confusing.
~•~
When Cas finally made it to the Bunker, the Winchesters had welcomed him with open arms. Literally. Dean had always been more than willing to express himself through physical contact but Cas was surprised to find himself being gathered into Sam's arms as well.
Both men seemed very pleased to see him, despite his concerns that they would turn him away now that he was next to useless. He told them about his journey to them, about the Fall and subsequent wanderings; the people he met, and experiences he had endured on the way. Their reactions seemed to alternate between greatly concerned and highly amused but they patiently listened and asked the kinds of questions that made Castiel's mouth turn up at the edges. He had missed this. Their simple insightfulness. And, by the end of the story, it felt like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
They in turn relayed their experiences since their last meeting, one brother stepping in to speak when the other became silent, overtaken by grief or regret. In one way, he had missed that too, the way in which they cared for and bolstered each other. So much of his own family had been lost, it did his heart good to be with the brothers once more.
They told him to make himself at home. Dean even reiterated it in Spanish as if that was somehow more meaningful. When Cas wasn't quite sure how to do that, they showed him.
Dean made him a meal. It tasted so good, Cas finally understood that Dean's obsession with food was more than justified.
He had eaten on his way to the Bunker. Being human, he had found it necessary to eat more often than was convenient. The experience was interesting. The idea of flavor and texture was lost on him before. He had eaten in order to blend in before the Fall but molecules taste somewhat different without angelic grace getting in the way. He had enjoyed it, more or less. The subsequent biological outcome was less than enjoyable initially, but he had become used to that too.
He had eaten out of necessity but it had never been as enjoyable as the meal Dean prepared for him. The idea that food made at home was somehow significantly better than food prepared elsewhere made little sense. But the proof was right in front of him, for the little time it remained there before he ate the whole thing, and wiped his plate clean with his finger.
Sam had shown Cas how to work the showers, and although Cas grumbled about being treated like a child, he appreciated it once he was fully immersed under the pleasant flow of water and was able to adjust the temperature until it reached perfection. He stayed there so long, Sam became concerned and felt the need to check on him.
Sam let him wrap a towel around his waist and then led him to one of the bedrooms. Except it wasn't just any room. The few meager belongings he had acquired on his way to the Bunker were arranged on a chest of drawers and Dean was laying some clothes out from a very old suitcase, checking the labels for sizes and placing a selection on the bed. Sam told Cas that his old clothes should be washed and although Dean mumbled something about burning them, Sam just glared at his brother and took them away in a bundle under his arm, slapping Cas on his bare shoulder as he left. Dean finished up his task and repeated Sam's reassuring touch as he passed, saying, "Make yourself at home, Cas."
But all Cas could think about was just how far he was from home, and how unlikely it was that he would ever return there.
Which was about the exact moment it began to snow.
~•~
Forty-eight hours later, Cas wandered towards the kitchen, drawn by the sounds of the brothers' earnest voices.
"It's not just weather, Sam! I'm telling you it's demon sign!"
"Dean, you saw the reports…I don't know what else to tell you."
"Really? You're buying that global warming crap?"
"Climate change, Dean, and yes. When the polar vortex shifted..."
"Oh and you're telling me that sounds normal to you?"
"Well, it's not supernatural, if that's what you're saying..."
Cas stood in the doorway and couldn't help but chip in, "It's not supernatural but it’s not entirely normal either, if you're using normal in the strictest sense of the word."
Both brothers turned to look at him. Dean's face switched from anger to dismay as he looked at the fluffy white bathrobe that Cas was sporting. Cas sighed and turned the lapel to display the patch that Dean had quickly sewn on, designating the robe as belonging to Cas.
Apparently, making one's self at home didn't necessarily mean that one could wander around naked, regardless of the level of comfort it provided.
Also, when asked to put on a robe, it was somehow expected that a person should know better than to wear another man’s robe. Apparently, the hygiene of the wearer bore no relation to the ability of the robe’s owner to imagine it was anything other than 'unsanitary'. Dean muttered something about 'junk touching his stuff' and 'going to have to bleach it', when Cas handed him back the sullied garment.
But Dean returned shortly after with an identical bathrobe he designated for Cas's exclusive use. He showed him the biker patch he had sewn on the lapel with neat surgical stitches to differentiate it from his own. Cas didn’t think wearing a Hell’s Angels badge was appropriate but Dean seemed amused so Cas didn’t question it.
Dean nodded approvingly at the proof of ownership and turned his attention back to Sam. "We are snowed in, Sam! There is a blizzard outside and we are snowed in! There are things...people out there that need our help and I just think it's too much of a coincidence that we are stuck in here..."
"What is going on with you?" Sam shifted his stance and folded his arms across his chest. "You're not claustrophobic, so I know it's not that. We've got enough food to last us 'til next year..."
Dean raised his eyebrows innocently and shaking his head said, too fast, "I've got no idea what you’re talking about." Sam tilted his head and squinted but Dean sighed and looked pleadingly at him. "Please, Sam. Please could you just do a bit of research and see if this could be something other than carbon emissions gone bad?"
Sam huffed out a breath and unfolded his arms, letting them hang loose at his sides. "Fine. But I'm telling you, it's just snow, Dean." He snatched up his water bottle from the kitchen counter and headed off towards the library.
Cas regarded Dean for a moment before walking up to him. Dean recoiled slightly at his proximity, reminding Cas to take a step back but he looked deep into Dean’s eyes.
Dean narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Cas tilted his head. "Sam's right. Something else is bothering you. You generally aren't concerned about weather patterns or the change in temperature unless it affects the attire of the female population...so I think you should tell me what’s wrong."
Dean looked uncomfortable but also curious. "Oh really? And why is that?"
"Because we're friends, Dean. And that's what friends do, isn't it?"
Dean looked at him for a moment before turning away. Cas waited, and eventually Dean mumbled something indecipherable.
"I'm sorry, Dean what was tha.."
"The car!" Dean span around, flinging his arms out, with a look of agony on his face. "The...the car. I didn't know it was going to snow, and then you showed up, and I just forgot I’d parked Baby outside. And then when Sam said it was snowing, I didn't even think about it but when I woke up the next day and we couldn't even get the front door open...!"
Cas looked blankly at Dean's desperate face as he struggled to make himself understood. Dean sighed in frustration and held out his arm in the vague direction of the Bunker entrance. "Baby is outside under three feet of snow and I can't get to her! She's going to rust, Cas! Rust really badly."
There was silence for a moment before Cas said, "No."
Dean shook his head in disbelief. "No?"
"No. Sam moved the Impala."
Dean watched, open mouthed, as Cas walked over to the fridge and peered inside. "What do you mean 'Sam moved the Impala'?"
Cas reached out and chose a bottle of fruit juice before he turned back to Dean. "Sam noticed it was snowing and when he realized you had gone to bed, he said "I better put the car in the garage or Dean'll be pissed" and then he did."
Dean stood open mouthed and took a moment to collect himself before saying, "And neither of you thought to tell me?"
Cas shrugged. "You didn’t ask."
They both stood in silence, Cas taking a long draft of his drink before asking, "So, what do you want to do now?"
~•~
Sam rubbed at his eyes and glanced blearily at the clock. He had only been researching for two hours but he felt like he'd been at it all day. And he was suddenly hungry.
He stretched out his aching muscles as he made his way towards the kitchen, coffee and left-over lasagne on his mind but part way there, his attention was drawn to the sounds of gunfire and shouting coming from the den. He headed that way instead, telling himself it was just to satisfy his curiosity before getting food inside him and heading straight back to work.
Sam was expecting to see Die Hard 2 playing on the giant TV. He had recognized the soundtrack because it was one of Dean's favorites, despite Sam trying to explain that it isn’t really supposed to be a comedy.
Are you kidding? Look at the way he's holding that gun!
But he was totally unprepared to see Cas and Dean sat on the couch in matching fluffy white robes, toasting marshmallows over a small fire burning on the coffee table in front of them.
"What are you doing?"
Dean and Cas turned to see Sam standing in the doorway. Cas smiled wide. "Making smores! Dean's showing me how. Have you had them? They're delicious."
Sam nodded and then pointed to the flames. "Is that...are you toasting marshmallows over holy oil?"
Dean looked at where he was pointing and shrugged. "Well, how else do you expect us to do it in here?" He held out the gooey treat in his hand. "You want one?"
Sam felt his stomach grumble and did his best not to launch himself at the couch. Instead, he nodded and walked calmly into the room. Cas and Dean scooted apart to make space for Sam to fit in between them. Sam relaxed back into the cushions, Dean handing him first the treat and then a beer he produced from a cooler at the side of the couch.
Sam smiled at him and said, "I thought you wanted me to research the freaky weather?"
Dean looked down and shook his head, "Nah, I think you've done enough, Sammy. Anyway, your favorite bit is coming up!"
"What are you talking about? It's nearly over?"
Dean smiled. "Exactly.”
Sam looked confused, until Cas bumped his shoulder and smiling, said, “You get to choose the next one."
•~•~•
Recipient: grasshopr_molly
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2,100
Warnings: Mentions of general canon events beginning of S9
Author's Notes: This is a little slightly-AU thing that gave me a chance to write about fluffy bathrobes (don’t know why I’m obsessed with them but I am) and write about Castiel for the first time, too. From the prompt “Snowed in, featuring Team Free Will”
Also, so much love to my two wonderful betas!
Summary: Castiel can’t go home…but maybe that’s okay.
When Cas first arrived at the Bunker, there had been some discussion about the robe. Which was perplexing, being that there had already been a discussion, all be it about the lack of robe. So a further discussion about appropriate and inappropriate wearing of a robe seemed slightly 'over the top'.
Cas was getting there. It was slow going but he was getting there. He'd always suspected that being human was quite complicated. As an angel, he had long noticed that many people seemed to find even basic existence quite troubling but having lost his grace and gaining humanity, Cas could now see clearly that, yes, it was very confusing.
~•~
When Cas finally made it to the Bunker, the Winchesters had welcomed him with open arms. Literally. Dean had always been more than willing to express himself through physical contact but Cas was surprised to find himself being gathered into Sam's arms as well.
Both men seemed very pleased to see him, despite his concerns that they would turn him away now that he was next to useless. He told them about his journey to them, about the Fall and subsequent wanderings; the people he met, and experiences he had endured on the way. Their reactions seemed to alternate between greatly concerned and highly amused but they patiently listened and asked the kinds of questions that made Castiel's mouth turn up at the edges. He had missed this. Their simple insightfulness. And, by the end of the story, it felt like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
They in turn relayed their experiences since their last meeting, one brother stepping in to speak when the other became silent, overtaken by grief or regret. In one way, he had missed that too, the way in which they cared for and bolstered each other. So much of his own family had been lost, it did his heart good to be with the brothers once more.
They told him to make himself at home. Dean even reiterated it in Spanish as if that was somehow more meaningful. When Cas wasn't quite sure how to do that, they showed him.
Dean made him a meal. It tasted so good, Cas finally understood that Dean's obsession with food was more than justified.
He had eaten on his way to the Bunker. Being human, he had found it necessary to eat more often than was convenient. The experience was interesting. The idea of flavor and texture was lost on him before. He had eaten in order to blend in before the Fall but molecules taste somewhat different without angelic grace getting in the way. He had enjoyed it, more or less. The subsequent biological outcome was less than enjoyable initially, but he had become used to that too.
He had eaten out of necessity but it had never been as enjoyable as the meal Dean prepared for him. The idea that food made at home was somehow significantly better than food prepared elsewhere made little sense. But the proof was right in front of him, for the little time it remained there before he ate the whole thing, and wiped his plate clean with his finger.
Sam had shown Cas how to work the showers, and although Cas grumbled about being treated like a child, he appreciated it once he was fully immersed under the pleasant flow of water and was able to adjust the temperature until it reached perfection. He stayed there so long, Sam became concerned and felt the need to check on him.
Sam let him wrap a towel around his waist and then led him to one of the bedrooms. Except it wasn't just any room. The few meager belongings he had acquired on his way to the Bunker were arranged on a chest of drawers and Dean was laying some clothes out from a very old suitcase, checking the labels for sizes and placing a selection on the bed. Sam told Cas that his old clothes should be washed and although Dean mumbled something about burning them, Sam just glared at his brother and took them away in a bundle under his arm, slapping Cas on his bare shoulder as he left. Dean finished up his task and repeated Sam's reassuring touch as he passed, saying, "Make yourself at home, Cas."
But all Cas could think about was just how far he was from home, and how unlikely it was that he would ever return there.
Which was about the exact moment it began to snow.
~•~
Forty-eight hours later, Cas wandered towards the kitchen, drawn by the sounds of the brothers' earnest voices.
"It's not just weather, Sam! I'm telling you it's demon sign!"
"Dean, you saw the reports…I don't know what else to tell you."
"Really? You're buying that global warming crap?"
"Climate change, Dean, and yes. When the polar vortex shifted..."
"Oh and you're telling me that sounds normal to you?"
"Well, it's not supernatural, if that's what you're saying..."
Cas stood in the doorway and couldn't help but chip in, "It's not supernatural but it’s not entirely normal either, if you're using normal in the strictest sense of the word."
Both brothers turned to look at him. Dean's face switched from anger to dismay as he looked at the fluffy white bathrobe that Cas was sporting. Cas sighed and turned the lapel to display the patch that Dean had quickly sewn on, designating the robe as belonging to Cas.
Apparently, making one's self at home didn't necessarily mean that one could wander around naked, regardless of the level of comfort it provided.
Also, when asked to put on a robe, it was somehow expected that a person should know better than to wear another man’s robe. Apparently, the hygiene of the wearer bore no relation to the ability of the robe’s owner to imagine it was anything other than 'unsanitary'. Dean muttered something about 'junk touching his stuff' and 'going to have to bleach it', when Cas handed him back the sullied garment.
But Dean returned shortly after with an identical bathrobe he designated for Cas's exclusive use. He showed him the biker patch he had sewn on the lapel with neat surgical stitches to differentiate it from his own. Cas didn’t think wearing a Hell’s Angels badge was appropriate but Dean seemed amused so Cas didn’t question it.
Dean nodded approvingly at the proof of ownership and turned his attention back to Sam. "We are snowed in, Sam! There is a blizzard outside and we are snowed in! There are things...people out there that need our help and I just think it's too much of a coincidence that we are stuck in here..."
"What is going on with you?" Sam shifted his stance and folded his arms across his chest. "You're not claustrophobic, so I know it's not that. We've got enough food to last us 'til next year..."
Dean raised his eyebrows innocently and shaking his head said, too fast, "I've got no idea what you’re talking about." Sam tilted his head and squinted but Dean sighed and looked pleadingly at him. "Please, Sam. Please could you just do a bit of research and see if this could be something other than carbon emissions gone bad?"
Sam huffed out a breath and unfolded his arms, letting them hang loose at his sides. "Fine. But I'm telling you, it's just snow, Dean." He snatched up his water bottle from the kitchen counter and headed off towards the library.
Cas regarded Dean for a moment before walking up to him. Dean recoiled slightly at his proximity, reminding Cas to take a step back but he looked deep into Dean’s eyes.
Dean narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Cas tilted his head. "Sam's right. Something else is bothering you. You generally aren't concerned about weather patterns or the change in temperature unless it affects the attire of the female population...so I think you should tell me what’s wrong."
Dean looked uncomfortable but also curious. "Oh really? And why is that?"
"Because we're friends, Dean. And that's what friends do, isn't it?"
Dean looked at him for a moment before turning away. Cas waited, and eventually Dean mumbled something indecipherable.
"I'm sorry, Dean what was tha.."
"The car!" Dean span around, flinging his arms out, with a look of agony on his face. "The...the car. I didn't know it was going to snow, and then you showed up, and I just forgot I’d parked Baby outside. And then when Sam said it was snowing, I didn't even think about it but when I woke up the next day and we couldn't even get the front door open...!"
Cas looked blankly at Dean's desperate face as he struggled to make himself understood. Dean sighed in frustration and held out his arm in the vague direction of the Bunker entrance. "Baby is outside under three feet of snow and I can't get to her! She's going to rust, Cas! Rust really badly."
There was silence for a moment before Cas said, "No."
Dean shook his head in disbelief. "No?"
"No. Sam moved the Impala."
Dean watched, open mouthed, as Cas walked over to the fridge and peered inside. "What do you mean 'Sam moved the Impala'?"
Cas reached out and chose a bottle of fruit juice before he turned back to Dean. "Sam noticed it was snowing and when he realized you had gone to bed, he said "I better put the car in the garage or Dean'll be pissed" and then he did."
Dean stood open mouthed and took a moment to collect himself before saying, "And neither of you thought to tell me?"
Cas shrugged. "You didn’t ask."
They both stood in silence, Cas taking a long draft of his drink before asking, "So, what do you want to do now?"
~•~
Sam rubbed at his eyes and glanced blearily at the clock. He had only been researching for two hours but he felt like he'd been at it all day. And he was suddenly hungry.
He stretched out his aching muscles as he made his way towards the kitchen, coffee and left-over lasagne on his mind but part way there, his attention was drawn to the sounds of gunfire and shouting coming from the den. He headed that way instead, telling himself it was just to satisfy his curiosity before getting food inside him and heading straight back to work.
Sam was expecting to see Die Hard 2 playing on the giant TV. He had recognized the soundtrack because it was one of Dean's favorites, despite Sam trying to explain that it isn’t really supposed to be a comedy.
Are you kidding? Look at the way he's holding that gun!
But he was totally unprepared to see Cas and Dean sat on the couch in matching fluffy white robes, toasting marshmallows over a small fire burning on the coffee table in front of them.
"What are you doing?"
Dean and Cas turned to see Sam standing in the doorway. Cas smiled wide. "Making smores! Dean's showing me how. Have you had them? They're delicious."
Sam nodded and then pointed to the flames. "Is that...are you toasting marshmallows over holy oil?"
Dean looked at where he was pointing and shrugged. "Well, how else do you expect us to do it in here?" He held out the gooey treat in his hand. "You want one?"
Sam felt his stomach grumble and did his best not to launch himself at the couch. Instead, he nodded and walked calmly into the room. Cas and Dean scooted apart to make space for Sam to fit in between them. Sam relaxed back into the cushions, Dean handing him first the treat and then a beer he produced from a cooler at the side of the couch.
Sam smiled at him and said, "I thought you wanted me to research the freaky weather?"
Dean looked down and shook his head, "Nah, I think you've done enough, Sammy. Anyway, your favorite bit is coming up!"
"What are you talking about? It's nearly over?"
Dean smiled. "Exactly.”
Sam looked confused, until Cas bumped his shoulder and smiling, said, “You get to choose the next one."
•~•~•