#garth fic

[mysterycitrus]

i think isolating the bats from their teams and external support systems is like….. functionally bad. like wdym red hood is on dicks speeddial but his actual soulmate donna troy isn’t. why is everyone in gotham. why do these people have no friends

[destiel-wings]

the spn funny episode that we never got (and should've) is entirely narrated and told from Garth's pov in the form of a fairy tale he's telling baby Sam and baby Cas (his infants) while he's choochooing their food to their mouths to get them to eat-- do you see my vision???

he's literally telling a spn episode with the adventures of sam and dean, but in the form of a fairy tale, and we see them performing the actions and speaking the words garth would use with the exaggerated style of a fairy tale it would be HILARIOUS

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

photographs (part 2)

part one (definitely not “required” to read first part before this one, but it makes more sense to read part one, then this part)

masterlist

summary: when dean disappears after killing dick, you’re glad you took so many photos.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 3.0k

warnings: dean is (temporarily) dead, memories/photos with - implied sex/nudity, lots of fluff cloaked in angst cause dean’s dead

author’s note: inspired by a comment i received on part one (quick explanation here).

dean was dead. again. your heart ached. well, everything ached. your head ached cause you hadn’t slept in days, your stomach ached cause you hadn’t fed it anything but caffeinated drinks and whiskey for days, and, above all, your shattered heart made your chest physically ache. everything in you was telling you to sit down, eat a meal, and get some sleep; but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. all that mattered to you now was getting dean back.

the days after losing him you stole a car (sam took the impala, which you were fine with) and drove for hours, stopping at different storage lockers to gather up the usb sticks with all the photos and videos you had taken on the cameras since dean went to hell. the physical photo albums had burned up at bobby’s place so you thanked your lucky stars you had been paranoid enough to make copies and leave them in separate places.

there were a lot of videos, and even more photos. god, were you glad you had shoved the stuipid camera in dean’s face and that he had willingly taken it from you to snap pictures of his own.

you sat in the dingy motel room; your laptop on the table in front of you and a bottle of whiskey beside you. you didn’t even really ever like whiskey, not until you fell in love with dean. he often tasted like whiskey when you’d kiss him so now the bitter (and, in this instance, cheap) drink reminded you of him.

tears filled your eyes as you clicked through the photos. you let out quiet sobs between sips of whiskey until you got to the first video on the usb you were going through.

“y/n, get your gorgeous ass out here,” dean exclaimed from behind the camera.

“give me another minute!” you called back. dean sighed dramatically and turned the camera around.

“y/n and i are on a case and we’re pretty sure the vamps are gonna be at this fancy party in town,” he explained. he leaned closer to the camera and whispered, “i honestly have no idea if they’re gonna be there but y/n suggested it and she looks smoking hot in-”

“okay i’m ready,” you stepped out of the bathroom. dean’s face lit up then he turned the camera around.

“wow, wow, wow,” he walked up to you. “you look incredible, sweetheart” he took your face in his hand and kissed you, angling the camera so it captured the moment.

“you don’t look too bad yourself,” you smiled up at him and ran your fingers over his tie. you gripped it and pulled him down for another kiss.

“mmh,” he hummed through his smile as he kissed you back. “you know this dress would definitely look better on the floor,” he whispered.

“oh and it definitely will be on the floor the second we get back here,” you replied. “c’mon,” you stepped away from him and grabbed your purse, “let’s go kill some vampires!”

you smiled to yourself. as much as you missed him, you couldn’t help the happy feeling bubbling up as you remembered what it was like to be held by him.

“put the damn camera down and kiss me already!” dean huffed dramatically.

“you’re so cute right now, though!” you giggled, snapping another picture.

“i look the same as i did yesterday, honey!”

“exactly!” you put the camera down and he kissed you. “you always look so perfect,” you whispered.

“have you seen you?!” he teased.

you reached your hands up so you could mess with his hair. your expression changed.

“oh god,” you practically gagged.

“what’s wrong?”

“there’s definitely ghoul brains in your hair still,” you retracted your hands. “get in the shower,” you laughed, pushing him toward the motel bathroom.

“only if you come with me,” he smirked.

your phone rang and you furrowed your brows as you answered; “garth?”

“hey, are you still in wichita? i’ve got a hunter friend over there who needs some help and i’m at least two days away.”

“yeah, i am garth, but-”

“please, y/n? i don’t know that many hunters and i’m kinda worried about her,” he asked, you could hear the desperation in his voice which was very out of character for him.

“of course, garth. send me the details and i’ll get in contact with her,” you smiled. dean would want me to help, you thought to yourself.

“thanks.”

**

you tiptoed over to where dean was half asleep.

“dean honey, wake up,” you whispered while stroking his messy hair. “breakfast is ready.”

“you’re too good to me sweetheart, he smiled and sat up; giving your cheek a kiss.

“happy birthday, dean,” you handed him the plate of freshly cooked bacon and a slice of pie. he sat up and began eating it, you sat down on the edge of the bed.

“this is perfect honey, thank you,” he smiled like a kid on christmas. “c’mere,” he pulled you into a quick kiss, you could taste the bacon grease still on his lips and you’ve gotta admit, you’re a damn good cook.

“i got you a present, too,” you giggled a little and stood up to get it off the counter. “well, two actually - one’s kind of a gag gift and one’s a real gift.”

he set the plate down on the bedside table and took the gift-wrapped boxes from you. he opened the smaller one first.

“hell yeah,” he laughed, holding up the gift. “condoms! we are definitely using these right away!”

“yeah, thought you’d appreciate those,” you teased.

he opened the next one; “a mini pie maker?”

“yeah, i figured it’d be handy to have-” he cut you off by kissing you and holding your face in his hands.

“god, i fucking love you,” he said between kisses. “you are the sweetest,” he kissed you again, “most beautiful,” and again, “most perfect woman in the universe.” you laughed, trying to catch your breath.

“i love you too,” you said.

“wanna use those condoms now?” he wiggled his brows suggestively.

“eat your breakfast first, before the bacon gets cold. i asked sam to text me when he’s ten minutes away so we’ve got plenty of time.” you gave him a kiss on the forehead and stood up. you took the pie maker and put it on the counter as dean finished his breakfast. “smile, birthday boy!” you snapped a couple pictures.

“hey you alright?” janet (garth’s hunter friend) asked from the passenger seat of your car.

“yeah, just.. it’s nothing,” you shook your head with a smile and flipped the visor back up so you couldn’t see the pictures of dean. “i lost someone a week ago. it’s still pretty raw.”

“i’m sorry,” she smiled sadly. “what was his name?” she asked; she had seen you looking at the pictures.

“uh, dean,” you replied. “dean winchester.”

“the dean win- sorry-” she caught herself. “uh, what was he like?”

“the best,” you whispered. “he was the sweetest man. he was so good to me and i- i just love him so much and- and i miss him like crazy.” you wiped your tears away quickly. “sorry, here i am spilling my guts when i just met you.”

“hey it’s thanks to you i didn’t literally spill my guts back there, if you wanna talk i’m here for you.”

**

“garth! got another case for me?” you asked through the phone. it had been six months since you lost dean and you never stopped hunting. you truly believed if you stopped you’d go crazy alone with your thoughts.

“yep, four bodies missing their hearts a few miles from where you are,” he replied. “you doing okay?”

“yep i’m great,” you lied.

“i know your lying, but you know i’m here if you need to talk, right?”

“yeah, i know garth, thank you,” you replied. “send me the details for the case please.” you hung up.

“c’mon take the picture already, i’m starving!” dean grumbled. you had made dinner for the brothers and bobby and it looked delicious.

“cheese!” you said and snapped a few pictures of the three of them at the table. “okay, let’s eat!” you sat down next to dean; across from sam, who sat to the left of bobby.

“why do people say ‘cheese’ when they take a picture?” dean wondered out loud.

“maybe cause people like cheese?” you shrugged and put some steak next to the baked potato on your plate.

“well then what about lactose intolerant people?” sam chipped in.

“good point; maybe it’s a guys name? like the first person to take a picture? maybe their last name was cheese,” you suggested.

“oh, that actually makes sense,” dean nodded.

“are you idjits really having this conversation?” bobby exclaimed. “saying ‘cheese’ has nothing to do with actual cheese, or some photographer; it’s just that saying the word ‘cheese’ forces you to smile!” he shook his head as you and the brothers nodded.

“then why not say ‘freeze’?” you continued, at this point just teasing bobby.

“or ‘please’?” dean added.

“or-” sam started but bobby cut him off.

“just shut up and eat,” he rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but laugh a little.

you turned off your phone, not wanting to stare at the lockscreen any longer.

**

nine months. nine whole months. dean was still dead. hunting wasn’t the same anymore, it didn’t distract you at all. you’d be mid-kill and all the monster had to do was mutter dean’s name for you to freeze up. lucky for you, garth always made sure there was another hunter on any case he told you about; so, they would end up killing the monster before it killed you.

you sat alone at the bar, the other hunter you had just finished a case with was already on his way to another case across the state. but you had decided you needed to take a break from hunting and find another distraction.

that’s when you saw him; a man three stools down from you, wearing a red flannel almost identical to dean’s. his hair was the same color as dean’s, and when he turned to smile at you, you were met with piercing green eyes. your heart leapt to your throat. he didn’t really look at all like dean, but he had many similar feature - wispy lashes, freckles, and bow legs which you noticed as he walked up to you.

“evening pretty lady,” he smiled and leaned on the counter next to you. “that sounded much better in my head,” he laughed, which caused you to do the same.

“sounded okay,” you replied. “i’m y/n.”

“don,” he replied, you practically spat out your drink. “noticed you checking me out earlier.”

“maybe i was,” you bit your bottom lip a little. “why, you interested?”

“oh yeah,” he nodded, not letting his cocky smile leave his lips.

you brought him closer by gripping the collar of his flannel. you kissed him and he wrapped his arms around your waist, the taste of whiskey hitting your tongue. but something felt off, you felt guilty. you figured you had good reason to be; you only felt somewhat attracted to the guy and what little attraction there was, was only because he reminded you of dean. your perfect dean. the only man you ever loved. the only man you ever really had eyes for. the man that was stuck in purgatory right now (crowley had told you after you summoned him) while you were making out with a stranger.

“actually,” you pulled away. “sorry, i don’t wanna do this,” you smiled awkwardly and pushed the man away.

“oh c’mon, baby, it’s no big deal,” he shook his head and went in for another kiss. you pushed him away again, harder this time so he was now a few feet away from where you sat.

“sorry,” you stood up. “goodnight,” you smiled again and began to walk away.

“don’t be a tease,” he laughed and pulled your arm. you turned around and smirked a little.

“let go,” you said, he didn’t. “look, you really don’t want to get me mad, i’m having a bad week already.”

“what’re you gonna do, hit me?”

“of course not,” you smiled sweetly and stared him down. you then gripped his arm, pulled it off you, turned around and kneed him right in the balls. you gripped his collar again and made him look up at you while he crouched down. you punched the side of his face then walked away. after about four steps you remembered something and walked back. you finished your whiskey then left a fifty on the counter, making eye contact with the bartender so she knew you were leaving.

**

“i’m going off grid garth, i need to look for dean,” you told him through the phone as you drove to rufus’ cabin nearby. “if you need to contact me i’m only keeping this phone charged.”

“okay,” he sighed. “just let me know if you need any help ever, okay? don’t hesitate to call.”

“thank you garth,” you replied. “you’ve been great these past months. i’ll let you know when i get him back.” you then both hung up.

**

dean wrapped his arms around you and made eye contact with you through the mirror in front of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he smiled tiredly and kissed your collarbone. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

you stood in the bathroom in a bra and panties as you tried to keep brushing your teeth.

“can we go to bed already?” he whined. you bent over and spit out the toothpaste, dean groaning when your butt brushed against him. “oh come on sweetheart.”

“yeah let’s head to bed,” you leaned against his back as his grip around you tightened.

“i love you so much, you know that?” he mumbled against your neck.

“i know,” you smiled. “i love you so much, too. do you know that?”

“yeah,” he kissed you again.

“c’mon let’s head to bed,” you turned to go but he stopped you.

“wait,” he picked up the polaroid from the bathroom counter and handed it to you. you both smiled at the mirror and you took the picture; his arms wrapped around your belly and his chin on your shoulder. “okay, let’s go.” he smiled and you put the camera down.

you weren’t sure how the polaroid ended up at the cabin, but you assumed it had been in dean’s wallet when he broke his leg and the four of you had to stay here for a while.

**

one year. it was actually the one year anniversary of the day you watched an exploding dick make dean and cas vanish. you still remember how you had stepped forward to help them and sam had pulled you back, muttering something about it not being safe. you hadn’t seen sam since but you understood why; seeing him only reminded you of dean, so you assumed him seeing you reminded him about his brother.

“i don’t understand the point of this,” cas furrowed his brows and stared at the camera.

“memories, cas; don’t you wanna have pictures to look back on years from now?” you smiled back.

“i have a perfect memory, i don’t need pictures,” he replied.

“of course you do,” you rolled your eyes playfully with a laugh. “point is; you look at the camera and smile.”

“of course,” he nodded, still not fully understanding the point.

you finished setting up the camera on the bookshelf which you were using as a makeshift tripod and set the timer. you posed with castiel; your left arm around his torso and his right draped over your shoulder. the flash went off, indicating the picture had been taken.

“all done! when sam and dean get back with the food, we can take a couple more.”

**

“hey garth, everything okay?” you answered the phone.

“yeah, i just got a weird call from sam asking where you were - i didn’t give him your exact location just said you were at a cabin of rufus’ and gave him your number, that okay?”

“yeah, that’s fine garth thank you.”

**

“what the fuck, sammy!” you shouted when you heard him come bursting through the door. you got off the couch and hurried to the other room. “you could’ve fucking knocked!” you stopped in your tracks. there he was; dean winchester. “dean?”

“y/n?”

“are you a leviathan?”

“no, are you?”

“no, but neither of us can be sure, right?”

“right.”

“borax is under the sink.”

“holy water?”

“there’s a devil’s trap above you.”

you both paused for a second before he stepped out of said trap then you ran towards him and embraced him.

“god i missed you,” you exclaimed.

“i missed you too,” he replied, hugging you tightly. “as much as i don’t want to stop holding you, we really should run through the usual tests, sweetheart.”

“right, right,” you stepped back. “uh devil’s trap,” you said as you walked under it then back out. “borax,” you continued and walked over to the sink then poured some on your hand, closed the bottle, and tossed it to dean before he poured some on himself. “this is pure silver,” you handed him your knife then he handed you his. you both drew blood with the silver knife then dropped them and went back to hugging.

“don’t you ever do that again,” you mumbled into his chest. “you die again i’m gonna fucking murder you, you hear me?”

“yeah i hear you,” he laughed quietly against the crown of your head. “you didn’t spend this whole year alone, did you?”

“no; i spent nine months buried in cases, working on your case the whole time then..” you trailed off a little and looked up at him. “i kissed a guy that looked like you, hated it, and isolated myself in here so i could spend more time trying to get you out of purgatory.”

“you kissed a guy that looked like me?” he smirked a little.

“i also kicked him in the balls and punched his face,” you replied, smiling widely.

“that’s my girl,” he bent down and kissed you.

[report-soldier-choose-discuss]

https://laura-459.szhdyy.com.cn/mz/KpHAdmv

[outofbluecomesgreen2]

Yeah, I know, “Thursday…” is a real good fic…

Of course, I have time for you Garth. I always have an open ear for you, and you know that. 

You're a real nice person and writing your parts was so much fun. Not ha-ha fun, of course not, but you are an open-minded friendly guy, a good friend… 

Speaking of: how is Larry Roman? Oh, he plans to move in with his mother? Sounds like a plan, to doesn’t sell his soul to a crossroads demon only to dominate Rome with casinos and bars. 

And, did you hear about Crowley? He didn’t try to set his arm on fire again, did he?

Good.

Since last week I was worried about him, I mean, he is such a dramatic person…

…

Yeah, still no more comments, and kudos are rare… It bugs me a bit, but what else can I do than being patient and continue writing.

…

Indeed, I do! That’s so cool! One of the coolest!! 

No, not about you guys. I’m not ready to start the continuing stories. Doing it means letting you go, and I’m not strong enough for that right now. 😢

I‘m actually writing about Gunnar Lawless, yeah, my dream come true story to be honest 😇. It will take a while, but it will be the second part of „The Holiday Episode“, with Cas and Dean and an OC, which I never tried before in fanfic 😘 I’m so excited 🥳

No, actually you can’t read it until you are not old enough, because it will be kinda spicy, but don’t worry, we’ll find you a real good fic. Go, and check my insta. 

And, can you do me a favor? I can’t reach Cas right now. I thought he would be in the bakery to work with Bobby; Jo was on the line and told me he would hang out with Dean a lot. Can you ask him, when you see him next time in the group, if he wants to visit me? Next week maybe? I think some people out there want to hear how HE is doing. It’s also been a while I talked to him. I kinda miss him☺️

Cool. Thanks buddy😉

And now, which song would you like to hear? Which one reflects your inner self… yeah, as an Arrow Ace… Arrow Ace for life! That’s the whole point

😁 🏳️‍🌈😉

[tiger-inthelake]

Me, watching S2E1 of YJ:

Me:

Me: …

Me: wHaT tHe FuCK just happened?

[wondertwinsenthusiast]

Hey!! I'm in a fab five brainrot, does anyone have fic recs?🥲🥲

[wigglebox]

Suptober - Day 14;

All For You

[lemonyinks]

I didn't like Mekt much but I do hate seeing him only utilized as a villain, as if Legion Worlds didn't happen.

Where is the Mekt who admitted that he was wrong to let his loneliness and jealousy dictate how he acted? Where is the Mekt that worked to be better? Where is the Mekt who welcomed Ayla home and put himself in harms way to help her save their parents farm? Where is the Mekt that delighted at the idea of seeing Garth again and was sad to hear he wasn't really coming back?

I don't know. Maybe it's just me but Mekt works so much better as a character of redemption and reconciliation than as one who stays bitter and antagonistic. He's more interesting that way

[suzcatonmars]

Land of Confusion

Chapter 19: Double Life

– Mitch –

"You're a menace with this thing..." I murmured with a wry smirk, trailing my fingertip along Garthe's pointy mustache, following the mischievous quirk of his lips, then down to that patch of beard under his bottom lip. "Especially this part."

"Drives the ladies wild." Garthe waggled his brows, his voice a gravelly drawl that raised another rush of goosebumps across my skin.

"Drives me wild," I scoffed, my grin widening.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

(Part 3/?)

Steam Room: Roy tries to hide his ex from his friends while on vacation at a resort.

Like a Hurricane: Jade asks Roy to be her scene partner. (Spicy fic)

Nothing But Time: Bruce and Harvey are classmates and rivals until they're assigned as partners on an assignment.

Crunch Time: Wally and Linda's double date gets a little competitive. (One-shot)

Extras on Set: Eddie surprises Jason by inviting him on the set of the sequel to his favorite movie.

A Little Responsibility: Chris Kent visits Conner Kent at his college.

Lifted: Grant teams up with a young mercenary to save his mother.

it had to be you: Booster and Tora go to a spa resort together while everyone else is busy.

Little Winter: Stephanie Brown takes a little girl to the ER and finds out she has nowhere to go.

Gloves-Off Parenting: AU where Ted finds out about Tom when he was a child.

Not Without Regret: Jason runs into one of Bruce's friends while on vacation.

[roseunspindle]

I get the feeling Jack and Castiel's redone heaven is a very different thing, besides no walls...

Like, it gives you thing's you want right?

So Dean of course wants Sam so even though it didn't seem like a long drive at a simple bridge stop, Sam's there.

Cas and Dean meet up soon after as well. It's not totally clear what happens between them, but they are running bar together shortly after and have their own house. It's odder when Benny, who was pretty sure he was morosely wandering Purgatory, a tiny amazon child in tow, then their walking out of the endless woods and come upon a bar. Dean's smile is radiant when he see's Benny, and so many things when he see's little Emma. In short order Benny has a spot behind the bar beside Dean while Castiel entertain's Emma with colorful drink parasols. (Jack show's up because he wishes to meet one of his siblings.)

Dean is somehow not surprised when Sam show's up with (he mocks delightedly) a vertaible harem. Madison apparently knows asl a bit and she and Eileen haven't stopped signing yet (Castiel joins in) Jess and Sam keeping giving eachother goopy eyes while Amy and Gabriel chat verbally. (Sam admits he already got to see Sarah, but that obvoiously her husband and daughter are with her.) Dean wonders if it's very selfish of him to be glad Sam's Amelia is nowhere to be seen.

Amy never speaks to him or acknowledges his existance. He accepts that as his jus deserts.

He isn't upset, like he thought he might be when Hannah comes in. (He does make a face at Balthazar but Bathazar makes a face right back so he thinks that's cool)

Jimmy and Amelia show up, and Cas, Sam, and Dean are happy to regale the two of all they know of Claire's life and accomplishments. Sam being the most recently dead knows the most. He and Jimmy get especially soppy over memories (and pictures) of Claire and Kaia's wedding.

Time probably passes. Dean, Benny, Cas, Balthazar and Hannah, little Emma in tow go home and return. They go on walks and drives. Sometimes he and Sam get together for a "just us drive". Sometimes Adam comes with. It's...slow going, but Dean and Sam try and Adam tries...Adam becomes much, much happier when a morose and apologetic Michael shows up. Dean figures he can't throw stones about ones eternal partner...(but he really wants to) (granted he also wishes Gabriel would stop with the eyebrows. He doesn't care if Sam is technically and old man...that is his baby brother why are those eyebrows waggling!) (Lenore who has also come by, her own bar coming into being directly across the street from Dean's, does the same thing. Sam looks delighted and helpess at all his loves. Lenore is a love he didn't even ever consider...but she's hear now and Dean whines because he was the brother with the vampire significant other...Sam's just copying him...) (This doesn't stop him from teaming up with the former trickster for an epic prank war.)

Henricksen makes his way to the bar. Along with sweet Nancy. Dean actually squeaks a bit when Benny gestures her behind the bar. He thinks he feels something like twelve with his first crush with her. It's something so very new and he thinks he likes it. Henricksen "I think you can call me Victor these days" drops by every now and then. He's on Dean's team for the prank war. (Nancy and Hannah get along great)

Dean, Sam (and Adam once he's introduced) are giddy when Henry Winchester arrives.

The real Meg Masters comes in at one point. Sam and Dean thank her again for trying with her last breaths to help them, she tries to aplogize for her angry ghost self but gives up with a happy laugh when they stick their fingers in their ears and sing until she stops. She has nothing to ever apologize for.

John and Mary come in...things are strained between them all. A lot of hurt...a lot of disappointment clouds their interactions. Emma tries to bite John's ankle.

Ash opts to live part time and the roadhouse and part time at Dean's bar, which mysteriously named itself Thursday's Child at some point. Dean also obediently goes to visit the roadhouse at Ellen and Jo's demand. Jo never work's at Dean's bar...but she does eventually make her way home with him and the rest. (Sam points out that he can't mock his number of significant other's anymore.)

Andy Gallagher, when he shows up, shepherding a scowly blonde goth girl and a sweet looking girl in front of him, zeroes in on Sam. He becomes Lenore's bar's resident "guy who sleeps on tables" but often follows Sam home. Lily (who made Sam look like he wanted to cry until the girl awkwardly kicked his shin and told him he tried and it wasn't his fault) and her girlsfriend mostly hang out at Lenore's when they pass through.

One person who goes to Sam's house, not the bar is Barry, the boy Sam had been friends with at Truman, not looking much older than when they were there. It's heartbreaking to think on. Sam does cry, when Barry knocks on his door one day. Interestingly enough, when he heads out to spend time with his friend...Sam is a child again for that time.

One day, when Dean takes a walk alone, he meets a young man. He knows him. Amy Pond's son. Dean accepts his earned censure and if Amy and he are with Sam, Dean know's he won't be seeing his brother that day.

Crowley, really, Fergus Macleod, shows up. He's on a bit of a time share with hell, he can't always be in heaven, his past as a demon being a bit problematic, but gets visiting rights.

More people come, Claire and Kaia, Garth (Dean no longer has any reservations about hugging Garth). Bess, Gertie, Little Cas and Littler Sam, Little Dean...a variety of folks that the winchesters or other's they know drop in and out. It's often busy and crowded and Dean is never truly alone.

It's Heaven.

[hauntedpearl]

blue minutes (ao3)

1.9k, post-canon, Dean/Cas, Fluff and Angst

Some nights, Cas slips out of bed.

The dreams wake him. The memories wake him. Sometimes, the chill in the air wakes him.

And then the world shrinks.

So.

Some nights, Cas slips out of bed.

He presses a kiss to Dean's brow before he does, curls his fingers in the air behind his ear. Feels the soft puff of Dean's breath on his throat.

He lets it be the thing to remind him of his skin.

~

He touches the things that mark his life as he moves about the house. The iron doorknob. The wooden railing. Picture frames on the wall along the stairs.

He'll sit down, then, in one of the lounge chairs out on the patio. The brand new couch by the fireplace. The hand-painted chairs in the kitchen by the window.

A moment, then another, then another, then another.

The world grows bigger.

If he squints, he can flatten it. The greys and the blues and the purples dissolve into the black. The dimensions collapsing into one unknowable expanse.

Into nothing.

It is quiet. Always, always, so quiet.

His mind is foolish enough to believe that he's back where he once was. Back where he never wants to go again.

He closes his eyes. His heart pounds. His ears ring.

He could scream.

(He is afraid the sound will stick to his throat.)

He could scream.

(He is afraid to find out.)

So, he bites his tongue. Sits in the quiet. Tells himself that this is not what it seems to be.

And it isn't.

It isn't.

When he touches his chest, he feels the softness of his shirt. The warmth of the muscle underneath. The outline of his ribs. The steady thumping of his heart.

When he touches his chest, it swells.

His body breathes, despite his mind.

His body breathes, because it must.

His body. His home.

He turns his palm over, knuckles pointing to the ground, and the weight of the world settles on it.

It is light. It is heavy.

It is.

By the heavens, it just is.

That is how Dean finds him that night.

"There you are!"

The timbre of his voice is low and rough.

And yet.

It fills the world. Lingers in the air.

Cas opens his eyes. Curls his palm into a fist against his sternum.

"Shit, Cas," Dean says, moving around the edge of the kitchen table to kneel at his side. "I woke up, and you weren't there. Scared the living daylights out of me, man."

Cas blinks down at him.

Dean's face, close to his chest. His palm settling over the meat of his thigh.

His skin tingles where Dean touches him.

And suddenly, he is aware.

Of his breath. Of his bones. Of the warmth of his skin.

The breeze whistling past his ear.

He wonders if Dean knows that he carries the world with him. That he brings it into every room with his voice.

That Cas can forget sometimes, and Dean reminds him.

Of this soul. Human, and frayed, and bright.

Of this body.

His body. His home.

Even if he can't see it now, he imagines he can feel the light of Dean's soul — its heat setting the darkness afire.

Something like a shiver races through his body, then. And Cas clutches at Dean's hand.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Dean's frowning up at him. Softening his voice for him.

Cas looks at the way the skin of his forehead creases. At the way his brows tilt.

The back of Cas' eyes sting.

Nothing, he wants to say. Stop frowning.

It's nothing.

Nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

He cracks his parched mouth open. Cups Dean's cheek in his hand.

Nothing, he wants to say.

Instead, he says, "The weight of the Earth's atmosphere, the pressure of it... that's what keeps you alive, Dean."

The worry in Dean's eyes morphs into confusion. His gaze turns searching.

"About fifteen pounds of air on every square inch of your skin. Remove it, and death comes to you swift. Your blood boils. Your skin stretches. Your heart...bursts open."

The look of abject horror on Dean's face is almost funny.

Almost.

"Uh, Cas...," Dean begins, but Cas cuts him off. Digs his fingers lightly into Dean's skin.

"That's what it's like."

"What?"

A whisper.

A terrible innocence in it.

Cas pinches his eyes closed. Clenches his jaw.

(Nothing, he wants to say. Stop frowning. It's nothing.)

"That's what it's like," he repeats, through gritted teeth, words fighting their way out from behind the lump in his throat, "when The Empty takes you in your vessel. When—"

He gulps, forces the heat crowding his mouth back down into his chest.

Still, his voice shakes.

His lashes grow wet.

"When it took me in—in this body. That was what it was like."

A terrible silence. An echoing one.

Cas doesn't want to look. Doesn't want to know.

He looks anyway.

Dean is gaping at him, eyes wide and bright. The veins in his temples twitch

Cas turns to him fully and brackets his body with his knees.

He cradles Dean's face in his shaking hands and says, "I know it's over. I know it is. You saved me, Dean."

"Cas—"

"You did, Dean, you saved me. But, sometimes. In there, I couldn't — I wouldn't— It wouldn't stop. And now, it has. But—"

There.

There, on his fingertips, a pearl of a tear.

On his cheeks, the cool slide of one.

Their weighted breaths in the space between their bodies.

Cas' gaze flits between Dean's eyes. He clutches Dean harder, lets his palms slide so he can hook his thumbs around Dean's ears.

"I don't know how to forget," Cas says, and his voice is breaking. "I don't know how to forget, Dean."

And he doesn't.

He doesn't.

He wants to, and he doesn't.

When he sleeps, his dreams wake him. His memories wake him.

And the world shrinks. Widens. Darkens.

Takes him back.

He doesn't know how to make it stop.

And he's tired.

Of trying. Of doing it alone.

He's just so very tired.

"I'm —," he begins. Swallows a hiccup that rises to his throat. Blinks, and blinks, and blinks, dislodging the tears. Dean holds onto his wrists, quiet. Waiting.

Cas tries again. For Dean. For the silent tears that graze the base of his thumb.

"I'm tired, Dean. I'm just so tired."

A sob slips past his lips. A wretched thing.

A wretched, broken thing.

"Cas," and Dean's voice is raw. Scraped and sandy and dry.

He bows his head for a moment, then turns. Presses his open mouth to the center of Cas' palm, to the juncture of his wrist, the curve of his forearm.

Then, he stands, taking Cas with him.

Dean wraps his arms around him, holding him tight. Cas clutches the back of Dean's shirt in his fists.

The world is just the two of them.

The world is their rapidly beating hearts.

The world has never been so full.

"Oh, sweetheart," Dean says, his palm cradling the back of Cas' head. "I've got you."

And —

(It's the damnedest thing)

Cas believes him.

He buries his face in Dean's neck.

And for the first time in his long, wonderful, weary life — he weeps.

Dean keeps up a steady litany of soothing whispers. He cards a hand through Cas' hair, rubs circles into his back with the other.

"My darling," he says, peppering the side of Cas' face with wet, sloppy kisses. "I'm here. We're alright."

~

Oh, sweetheart. Darling. I've got you.

~

Weeping, Cas notes absently, is a little like drowning. The way the world narrows until all you can hear is the blood in your ears. All you can feel is the water clogging your lungs, your throat, your mouth.

He has drowned before.

He doesn't remember the surfacing. But he had, anyway.

He does so now, too.

~

There is salt in his lashes. On his cheek. His lips.

His face pressed into the wet spot on the shoulder of Dean's shirt.

He grimaces when the fabric rubs against his skin.

It isn't — pleasant.

He lifts his head and hooks his chin on Dean's shoulder instead. Sets his forehead against Dean's temple. Buries his nose in his hair.

A moment, then.

The settling of his heartbeat against Dean's. The cool touch of a breeze on his itchy, ruddy cheeks.

Something soothing in the air by his ear.

Something incredible in the press of their bodies. The —

—sway of them.

Because that's what Dean is doing.

Dean is swaying them.

Singing under his breath, words that ring familiar through the hazy veil of Cas' human memory.

There's a somebody I'm longin' to see

I hope that he turns out to be

Someone who'll watch over me

Cas' snort of laughter surprises them both.

Dean stills.

A beat.

Resumes this pseudo-dance, nudging Cas' feet with his own this time.

Then—

"I can't watch over you like I used to," Cas whispers, clutching Dean tighter. "I'm not an angel anymore."

Dean stops singing.

And yet.

The music lingers in the air. The impression of his voice. The warm lull of it.

It weaves between their bodies, keeps their feet moving. Keeps them swaying.

"You'll always be my angel," Dean says, his mouth pressed against Cas' temple. "And, hey. It's my turn, anyway. To watch over you. You can rest a while, sweetheart."

~

Dean told him once, about a future he never thought he'd have.

A home.

Someone to build that home with. Someone to hold.

Children. 

Dean told him once, about watching Garth and Bess through their living room window. Arms wrapped around each other, bodies swaying to the croon of their old record player.

Not a care in the damn world at that moment, he said.

Made something twinge here, man, he said, thumping his chest. Made it ache.

Cas wonders what Dean thinks of them, like this. Red nosed and puffy-eyed. Clutching each other, desperate and white-knuckled.

He wonders if Dean's chest still aches.

~

"I don't know how to make it stop, either," Dean says to him, later, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to Cas' thumb.

Cas lays on his side, facing Dean, letting the tip of his finger trace the freckles on his cheek.

"But I do know that it gets better. With time. You just. You gotta let yourself be miserable, once in a while. Gotta let someone take care of you when you are."

"Mm," Cas hums, tilting his head into the pillow under his cheek. Raises a brow. Presses the pad of his thumb to the corner of Dean's mouth. Says, "That so?"

Dean grins at him then. Huffs a laugh. Rolls his eyes. 

He surges up to fit his mouth to Cas'.

Dean kisses him deep and open-mouthed, rolling them over so he's hovering over Cas, one hand buried in the mop of his hair, the other skimming his side.

"Quit bein' such a smartass," Dean mumbles against his lips when they break for air, brushing their noses together. 

“You love me anyway,” Cas says, his thumb brushing over Dean’s cheek.

He is awed that it’s true. That he can say it at all. 

Dean’s grin softens. Brightens. 

(He is awed by that, too.)

And kisses him. 

“Yeah,” Dean whispers. 

[tinydooms]

The Misadventure of the McCanns, the Princess, and Rick O'Connell: A Bullet Point Story Of AU Proportions, Dastardly Deeds and Shocking Heroism That Will Chill, Thrill, and Surprise You! Part One.

Cairo, January 1924

One morning at the beginning of the year, two visitors from Rick’s past show up at the door of the Zamalek house. Rick is the one who answers the door. He opens it, sees the men on the step, and slams it shut again, locking it for good measure. 

“Come on, O’Connell!” hollers the man on the other side, “open up!”

“Go away, Hub!” Rick yells, leaning against the door as if holding it shut, “I’m married now! I have a wife and a brother-in-law who thinks he’s good at cards and I’m halfway through a B.A.! I don’t do dangerous anymore!”

“Oh yeah? Rumor has it you were involved in that weirdness here a few years back!”

“Not willingly!” Rick yells. 

“Damn it, Rick, open the goddamn door!”

The noise has alerted Evie, who ambles into the front hall to see her tall, strong, brave husband cowering behind the door. She asks who it is. 

“Hub and Garth McCann!” Rick says, which explains exactly nothing. “Guys I knew in the Legion. Crazy motherfu–heroic types. They attract trouble like bees to honey. I told them to go away.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Evie says, reaching past Rick to open the door.

This is so patently unfair that Rick just glowers as his gorgeous, smart, librarian-with-absolutely-no-sense-of-self-preservation wife invites Hub and Garth McCann into their home and offers them coffee and biscuits. He glowers at them as they eat and drink and make small talk with Evie. He glowers when Hub sets his coffee cup down and addresses him. 

“I need your help,” he says.

“Absolutely not,” Rick replies.

“Told you so,” says Garth.

“What kind of help?” asks Evie.

The very long and convoluted story that follows boils down to this: there’s this girl (because of course there is) that Hub is madly in love with (why wouldn’t he be?), but she’s promised in marriage to a certain sheik (naturally) and Hub wants to rescue her from the harem and marry her himself (because of course he does). He and Garth have the whole thing worked out: they’ll infiltrate the palace and rescue the princess, and all Rick has to do is pose as a wealthy American tourist on vacation and spirit them all away in his aeroplane to Egypt and safety. 

“I haven’t got an aeroplane,” Rick says. 

“I’ve got a guy,” Hub says.

“Of course you do,” Rick says. 

“Of course we’ll help!” says Evie, because of course she does. 

Rick snarls.

“We’re going to die,” he says later, after the McCanns have left. “We’ve been married less than two years and you’re sending me to my death.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Evie replies. She’s already packing him a bag. “You won’t be anywhere near the danger. The whole point of you being there is to be the secret rescuer, not the public one. You’re doing the sneaky bit.” As if there is anything sneaky about kidnapping a princess and fleeing a country.

 It isn’t kidnapping, per se, Evie points out. It’s a liberation. No woman should be forced into a loveless marriage, and Hub McCann seems to be a stand-up man. When he’s not getting into brawls, Rick thinks but doesn’t say. He still remembers the state he was in when he met Evie and Jonathan. He sighs. This was supposed to be a short research trip: some papyri Evie needs for her dissertation are housed in the Museum of Antiquities library, and she has a months’ leave to go study them. And now he’s being bullied into another adventure he didn’t ask for. Damn Hub. This girl must be pretty incredible. 

(In his heart of hearts, Rick knows that if the situation was reversed and it was Evie they were rescuing, he’d be just as desperate as Hub is, and just as willing to rope in whoever it took to succeed. Hell, he already has.)

“If I die,” he grumbles to Evie, “at least make sure they grant me my B.A. posthumously.”

“I will not,” says Evie, “because you are not going to die.”

So two days later he finds himself stepping off a small passenger ship and going through customs in Saudi Arabia, wearing a very fine linen suit and a pair of short boots: not the ideal outfit for a rescue mission, but he looks dapper as hell, so Rick is willing to let it go. He’s got to meet up with Hub’s guy at the local airfield, to play the part of a rich tourist hiring a small plane to take them around and ‘examine’ potential oil fields. So far, so easy. He gets to the airfield and meets up with the pilot–and it’s Izzy Buttons.

There is mutual swearing on both sides. 

See, a long time ago when Rick lived in Morocco and worked for an antiquities dealer, Izzy Buttons used to occasionally transport heavier pieces around in his biplane, mostly from Marrakesh to Casablanca or Agadir. One time they had to sneak out a legally-purchased piece from a bank that had refused to give it up to its purchaser, an affair that included several bribes, two days undercover work, and a belly dancer as a distraction. It was a perfect heist–or would have been if Izzy Buttons had been on time for the pickup. He’d been shot in the ass in the melee and has never forgiven Rick for it. 

So there is some antipathy on both sides as they set out to Hub McCann’s girlfriend’s fiance’s palace in an oasis in the middle of the desert. But everything goes well: Rick arrives in the little village surrounding the palace and puts it about that he’s a wealthy American businessman on holiday, wandering about making inane remarks about all and sundry, and pretending he doesn’t speak Arabic. The charade is a success. When the McCanns show up, badly disguised as Bedouin, he ignores them until Garth seeks him out that night to give him the message that the rescue mission will take place the night after next, so be on the plane, and for heaven’s sake, don’t go anywhere near the palace. 

Rick has no intention of going anywhere near the palace, and so of course the next day an invitation to visit the grounds is extended to this most illustrious of American oilmen. Rick sighs, and longs for Evie and his B.A. work, and accepts the invitation.

The palace gardens are beautiful, the Sheik very generous and affable in humor. He is to be married, he tells Rick, for the third time, to a beautiful and accomplished young woman. About that, Rick thinks, wondering if the Sheik knows anything about the McCann brothers’ heist happening right under his nose. He suggests that the Sheik examine his lands to see if there is oil under the sand. Maybe untold wealth and riches will make up for the gross insult about to be perpetrated. So, so far so good. It isn’t until evening falls and Rick is wandering in the extensive gardens, casing the joint so to speak, that things take a very sharp left turn. 

Someone steps up behind Rick and before he can turn around or shake them off, a handkerchief dosed in chloroform is clamped over his mouth and nose. Son of a bitch, Rick thinks, and passes out. 

[castielsprostate]

hey have you ever heard of garth?

no i haven't please enlighten me i swear ill be normal about him. so so sos os o nromal about garth i peomise i dont know him i want to know of him in moderation inswear ill be normal about Garth i swear prommy yeah garth?????????? GARTH??????? WHERE'S GARTH?????????????