#suptober2020

[alwaysthebiggerbear]

Masks - Dean Winchester x Castiel

Summary: where the Winchesters are attempting to get lunch during the pandemic & Jack finally works up the courage to ask for a dog

A/N: So this was something I started after 15x18 aired, in order to challenge myself by using prompts to start writing again. I used the #6 (Mask) prompt for Suptober2020 from @winchester-reload. I never submitted it (it was written after the event was over) but I just wanted to try this one & give credit for the prompt. This is my first time ever writing for this fandom & these characters/this pairing. I know it's not very good but after how things ended, I feel a little more okay about sharing it. Any mistakes are mine since it's not beta'd/edited. This was inspired by a moment that happened between my grandparents while we were attempting to dine outdoors back in 2020. It was too cute not to try to bring in for one of my favorite fictional couples. Warnings: pandemic, COVID-times Word Count: 5169 First posted on here: 9/29/23

Dean, Cas, and Jack sat at the table, waiting for Sam to return with their food. 

Jack glanced around as they sat on the sidewalk, mournfully watching as people passed by, walking their dogs and keeping a good distance from the tables area. He was particularly aggrieved when a wheaten terrier puppy approached them excitedly and he grinned, reaching a hand out to pet the cute animal when the owner yanked on the leash, effectively pulling the puppy away while shooting a dark glare in Jack’s direction. He stared after them as they left, turning back to find Cas giving him a sad but understanding smile.

“I don’t understand,” Jack started. “I have my mask on.”

“People are scared, Jack. This...virus is something they don’t understand. They’re just being careful.”

Dean snorted from Cas’ left. “People are dicks.” At Cas’ exasperated look, Dean elaborated, “What, you’re telling me they couldn’t let the kid pet the dog for one damn second? Come on. I get it, they’re being safe, but that’s just overkill.”

Jack glanced back and forth between them, noticing Cas’ annoyed expression barely hidden beneath his mask in response to Dean’s unapologetic one. A small smile formed on his young face as he prepared to ask the question he had been wanting to ask for a while now. “Can we get a dog?”

Dean’s and Cas’ eyes both widened. 

Jack hurried to reassure them and explain. “It’s just, I’ve never had a pet. A dog, I mean,” he hurried to clarify, not mentioning the snake he had once taken in. No one spoke about Felix and what had followed after his brief time in the Winchester home. “And I like dogs. They’re furry...and nice.”

Cas exchanged knowing glances with Dean, and he quickly responded before the latter could. “Jack, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jack’s face began to fall as fast as the disappointment settled within his chest. They were still worried about what happened with Felix. “But...I have a soul now…”

Cas’ blue eyes saddened but before he could reassure his son, Dean spoke up. “Kid, that’s not what this is about.” Jack’s eyes snapped to his and though it was nearly difficult to see due to the mask on his face, he could imagine Dean’s restrained smile as he fought to explain. “With what we do, it wouldn’t work too well. We go out on hunts all the time and we can’t take it with us. Who would be there to walk it, to feed it? It would be stuck in the bunker all day long. That’s not a good life for a dog.” 

Jack, not expecting Dean’s response and seeing the slightest opening, jumped on the opportunity. He hadn’t realized this would be part of their reservations, their reluctance to let him have a pet. This he had an answer for. “But, I’ll take care of it. I’ll take it out for walks, and I’ll feed it when it’s hungry. I’ll play with it when it gets bored. I’ll stay with it when you guys go out on hunts. I could take it with me when I go out on mine. I’ll take it outside a lot. You won’t have to worry about anything, I promise.”

Dean leaned slightly forward. “I don’t know, Jack. What, are you going to keep it in the motel when you’re out hunting monsters? Come on, kid. That’s not a good plan.”

Jack nodded eagerly. “There’s lots of places that take dogs now.” 

“And if gets sick? Or hurt?”

“I’ll take it to the animal hospital.”

“And if there isn’t one?” Dean still wasn’t convinced.

“Every town has a veterinarian.” Jack had already looked up all of this information online a week ago when he had been in his room. He had just waited for the right time to ask.

“It would need to be housetrained if it’s not and that’s a lot of work, kid. You ready for that?”

Jack gave a resolute nod. “Yep.”

Cas glanced towards Dean whose eyes stayed fixated on Jack, assessing him. After a moment, Dean nodded before leaning back in his chair. “Okay.”

Jack was speechless, his grin so wide he was barely able to contain his excitement.

“Okay?” Cas asked, puzzled.

“Yeah.” Dean shrugged. “The kid wants a dog and he’s saying he’ll take care of it, I think we should give him the chance.”

“I will, I promise.” Jack was delighted. 

Dean lifted a finger. “But you better keep up your end of the deal, you got me? We’re talking cleaning up the hair, picking up the poop, keeping the dog off my car seats, bath time -- all of it.” At Jack’s happy nod, Dean shifted in his chair. “Alright, we’ll head to the nearest shelter and start looking so you better start thinking of names. And none of that crap like Ruffles or Foofoo, either. I can deal with having a dog around but you give it a name like that…” Unable to finish, he made a sweeping motion with his hand, strongly indicating that Jack should not do that. The kid eagerly nodded in agreement. “Good. So we’ll go, after we eat. Now, where the hell is Sam with my burger?” Dean glanced in the direction of the restaurant.

“Thank you, Dean,” Jack offered softly.

Dean turned back to catch the gratitude and happiness shining brightly in Jack’s light blue gaze. After a moment, he lowered his own and did his best to give an unaffected nod. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cas studying him, his head tilted and the barest hint of a squint. “What?” He barked out.

Cas narrowed his eyes further.

“Don’t give me that. You are not getting a cat. A dog is one thing but a cat? They throw up everywhere, they lick themselves, they bite and scratch, they look at you like they want to kill you all the time...yeah, that’s not happening.” A moment later, Dean chanced a glance in Cas’ direction. 

Cas was still studying him, but eventually his eyes softened. “Okay,” he agreed.

“Okay?” Dean asked in shock, though he tried to recover his surprise and appear more confident in his decision about the cat thing. Like he had so many times before when Cas brought up the possibility. Dogs he could get behind, but cats...no, he just couldn’t. 

He had nothing against the species but he had no desire to have a bundle of fur around that had sharp claws and canines at the ready should it feel threatened. And in Dean’s line of work, there was bound to be at least once or twice that might happen should something pop in unexpectedly or storm the bunker. Dean had already experienced feline wrath once when he and Sammy were kids. At one of the motels John Winchester had dropped them off at while he went on one of his hunts, Sam had found a stray cat near a dumpster, and after Dean had discovered its hiding place near Sam’s bed and lots of begging from his younger brother, it had stayed for the night. The cat seemed to love Sam, curling up next to him, eager to be petted, purring its contentment. Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it but Sam seemed happy; he just hoped his father would allow them to take it with them, if for nothing else, to keep that happiness on Sam’s face a bit longer. 

Once his brother had fallen asleep, Dean, unable to contain his curiosity, attempted to pet the animal. He had never had a pet before, they had been moving around for years and never really had a home themselves, never mind a place for a pet to live in. But what followed the hesitant pats on the cat’s head and body was a whirlwind of feline fury. Sam had immediately woken up, moved the cat away, and attempted to help tend to Dean’s cuts on his hand and arm, making sure to clean them out effectively. Dean never approached the animal again. He dutifully acquired cans of cat food and handed them to his brother when it came time to feed the little monster, but he kept his distance.

Needless to say, as irritated as John Winchester was a few days later when he returned, they made a pit stop at the local shelter on the way out of town, with Sam sniffling and scrubbing the tears away at the two words John had snapped out in response to his son’s pleas, “No animals.” Dean had quietly attempted to assuage his brother’s pain as they traveled to their next destination, distracting him with questions about the newest book he had managed to sneak out of the library two days earlier when Sam had insisted on finding information he could jot down in a notebook on the care of cats. Some nerd crap having to do with rings and wizards. His ploy had worked and Sam had gotten lost in the explanation of the world of hobbits and elves while Dean forced himself to look mildly interested. Sam had been smiling again at the end of the ride; it had been worth it. Dean swallowed, forcing the memory away as he clenched his left hand into a fist, remembering the sites of the bites and scratches from all of those years ago. So yeah, no cats. Not in this lifetime.

“Okay,” Cas repeated. He leaned in ever so slightly and let his hand cover Dean’s right one, gently squeezing. “I already have what I want.”

Dean gulped at the loving intensity he saw staring back at him. It still took some getting used to, the love that the angel had for him. Cas looked as if Dean was his whole world, his universe, and even though the latter knew the truth of those feelings behind those eyes, it was still something that he was trying to adjust to. Dean wasn’t used to being the focal point of someone’s affection, not quite like this, and he struggled daily to come to terms with it, but he was getting better. With Cas’ unending devotion and careful adoration, he was slowly starting to come around to the idea that he was worthy of someone’s love. It wasn’t easy for him but he was making progress. Cas never pushed him, never pressed for more than Dean was willing to give. He was just there, serving as a silent reminder (and sometimes a vocal one) that Dean Winchester deserved to be loved. 

Dean’s eyes snapped to Jack who was watching them closely, his eyes still bright in his happiness from a moment ago, and Dean remembered that they weren’t alone, not surprised that they had managed to get lost in the bubble they repeatedly found themselves in when Cas did and said things like this. He swallowed again for good measure and gave a nod, looking away to focus on the other side of the street to gain his bearings once again. Cas went to knowingly remove his hand but not before Dean discreetly brushed the angel’s palm with his thumb. “Yeah, you do,” Dean let out in the quietest of whispers and he didn’t need to look to know that the angel’s eyes were now crinkled at the corners from the smile that Dean imagined was sitting below the mask. He knew Cas had heard him; as Cas had pointed out to them many times before, being a celestial being had perks such as sharp hearing. And right now, that fact came in handy.

Cas moved his hand to Dean’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately before letting go, and sat back in his chair. One of the things Dean appreciated most about the recent development of their relationship: Cas giving him time to process each and every one of these little moments between them. 

Dean swallowed for a third time and then cleared his throat. “Alright seriously, where the hell is Sam? Is he cooking the damn burgers himself? Because let me tell you, if he is, I’m heading to the hot dog cart down the street. There’s no way in hell he’s getting me to eat a veggie burger or tofu or any of that crap.” He grimaced at the thought. 

Cas chuckled next to him, a sound that made Dean tip his lips up in a small smile. Cas seemed to relax more once he had returned from The Empty. He was...lighter and a little more loosened up in manner. It took Dean some time to work out that the marked change was that the angel was happy . And a happy Cas took some getting used to. Sure, he had seen Cas laugh before, smile wide, and even crack a joke (it had been the absolute worst knock knock joke Dean had ever heard but Sam had laughed, typical), but this was different. Happiness seemed to radiate from his very being and Dean still struggled to accept that some of that was due to him and his changing role in Cas’ life. But the more time he spent with this new Cas, the more he himself relaxed and felt somewhat lighter, too. And before long, he realized that he really enjoyed being around Happy Cas.

“I’ve eaten one of Sam’s burgers before. I think it was turkey.” Dean stared, horrified at Jack’s revelation. “I liked it.”

Dean shook his head, closing his eyes in disbelief. “Kid, you did not just say that.”

“I do. It was good.” Jack shrugged, not bothered in the slightest at Dean’s exasperation. 

“I’m going to have a word with Sammy when he gets back,” Dean threatened before turning to Cas with a finger in the air. “No kid of ours is eating turkey burgers, soy, or any of that garbage. Sam wants to go full on health nut, fine. But burgers are where I draw the line. I mean it, Cas.”

Cas inclined his head in Jack’s direction. “But if he enjoys it…”

Dean rolled his green eyes and leaned forward. “Aw, hell. Alright, kid, listen to me and don’t you ever forget it. There are three things you don’t mess with.” Jack leaned in closer, nodding, intent on finding out what those three things were. “Burgers, bacon, and beer,” Dean counted off on his fingers. “The three B’s. You got me?” At Jack’s resolute nod, Dean laid his hand back down on the table. “Now, say it back to me.”

“Burgers, bacon, and beer,” Jack repeated, a little uncertainty coloring his tone. When Dean gave him an approving nod, Jack smiled proudly.

“And don’t you ever forget it,” Dean finished, sitting back in his chair. 

“How could beer be messed with?” Jack seriously mulled it over. He now knew what Dean was referring to for the burgers, and he had already witnessed the debate between the Winchester brothers on the merits (from Dean) of regular bacon vs. the health effects (from Sam) on turkey and veggie bacon. 

“Anything with ‘light’ in the label, you avoid. At all costs,” Dean warned him.

“Got it. No light beer.” Jack had no idea what this light beer was or why it messed with beer in general but if Dean said to stay away from it, he would.

“Some people do enjoy light beer,” Cas offered. “From what I’ve read on the articles Sam showed me, it--”

Dean turned a dark glare on the angel. “Don’t.”

Cas was saved from replying by Sam’s sudden appearance. 

“Hey guys, sorry, they’re a little backed up in there. Alright, here we are.” Sam placed the tray down on the table and proceeded to hand out everyone’s order. When he placed a basket in front of Dean, the latter regarded it suspiciously. He quickly lifted the bun and inspected the contents, and more importantly, the meat. 

Sam, who watched him in confusion which rapidly turned into annoyance, had enough. “It’s beef, Dean.”

Dean shifted his eyes to his brother dubiously. Sam had tried to sneak him a turkey burger under the guise of a regular burger at least twice now. He wasn’t taking any chances. Seeing Sam’s confirming nod, he removed his mask and then prepared to take a bite. “No more turkey burgers for the kid.” 

Sam’s jaw dropped and he flickered his gaze to Jack who was thoroughly enjoying his burger. “He likes them.”

Dean chewed his food and managed to get out, “No more. You’ve already got him eating that kale crap. That’s enough. He’s a growing boy who needs his protein. Real protein.”

Sam opened his mouth to retort but Dean held up a hand, shook his head, and pointed to the burger before taking another massive bite. 

Sam let out a sigh, trading glances with an indifferent but slightly amused Cas. They were used to this by now. Sam had always fought the battle for Dean’s health but Dean made sure he lost, every single time. He had eventually given up but when Jack came long, he was determined that the kid would not grow up on microwave dinners and convenience store food as he and Dean were forced to live on for years. But once again, he and Dean were on opposite sides of the issue. Cas usually backed him in their joint quest for a healthier lifestyle for Jack, but lately, the angel didn’t seem as inclined to insert himself in these inane squabbles between him and his brother. One glance and a tiny smile from Cas towards Dean who was heartily enjoying his meal indicated the reason why.

Sam was on deck to make dinner tonight, later at the bunker. Eileen had gone for a supply run that morning and he already had everything he needed to make a healthy and nutritious dinner. He already anticipated Dean’s complaints (funnily enough Jack never complained, but Dean always did, you would think he was the kid) but he knew without a doubt, Eileen would fully support him in his mission. Sure, there were times, she and Cas exchanged a look of disbelief and silent pleas for help from each other when the debates lasted a little too long and got a little too loud, but all in all, Sam usually won because they all loved Jack and wanted what was best for him. On those nights, like he already knew would occur again tonight, he made Dean something else on the side to counteract the vegetables and Orzo that his older brother refused to eat. 

“It’s the three B’s,” Jack informed Sam helpfully. “Burgers, bacon, and beer.”

“What about them?”

“You don’t mess with them.”

The irritated glare Sam sent Dean would have made any demon cringe. 

“I do like the turkey burgers you make, though,” Jack shot Sam a reassuring smile. 

Sam smiled back gratefully, and then gave Dean a smug nod. Dean rolled his eyes and continued eating. He could give Sammy hell later. Right now, he was too hungry to bother.

“Sam, I’m getting a dog,” Jack announced proudly, his grin so wide it looked like it might start to hurt.

Sam’s hazel eyes widened in surprise and he looked to Dean and Cas. The former kept eating but the latter nodded and Sam thought it over, his brows furrowing.

“Dean says as long as I take care of it, I can get one.”

Sam glanced at his brother in shock, knowing how he felt about pets mixing in with their lifestyle. Dean lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug and took another bite. “The kid promised he would take care of it. I think it’s worth a shot,” he managed to get out around his food.

Sam’s eyes snapped to Cas’ and after a moment, he nodded in approval. “Okay.”

Jack’s smile grew even wider and he returned to his meal, the excitement radiating off of him in waves. 

Sam picked up his burger. “So, when were you planning to go look for one?”

“After we eat,” Dean responded, taking a sip of his beer. “We’ll head to the local shelter and take a look around.”

“And I have to give it a good name. Will you help me think of a good name, Sam?” Jack looked to his dad hopefully.

“Of course. Do you know what kind of dog you want?” 

Jack thought it over. “I’m not sure.” He glanced up at Dean worriedly. 

“That’s what looking is for,” Dean reassured him, immediately setting the kid at ease. “A shelter has all kinds of dogs looking for a good home. Me? I’m more of a big dog guy but you...this will be your dog, kid, your responsibility. You pick what you want.”

“As long as I don’t name it Foofoo or Ruffles,” Jack stated eagerly.

Sam shot Dean a look of disbelief and the latter smiled smugly before taking another sip. “That’s right.”

Shaking his head and looking to Cas, Sam asked, “And what about cats?”

Cas’ subtle shake of his head didn’t go unnoticed by any of them. Sam ignored the pointed look his friend sent him, and flickered his eyes to Dean.

Dean shook his head. “No cats.”

Sam scoffed. “Just like that?”

Dean put his beer bottle down, picking up his burger again. “Just like that.”

Sam went to respond when Cas cut him off. “It’s fine, Sam. Cats don’t appeal to everyone. Not the way a dog does.”

Sam gazed at the angel in disbelief. Cas had wanted a cat for as long as any of them could remember. While they were all settled now in the bunker, one big happy family, and if Jack could have a pet, then why couldn’t Cas? Neither of them got to experience that. It was true, having a dog and cat together might prove to be difficult at first, but he was sure they could make it work. It was a big bunker. While he understood Dean’s aversion to pet hair and offputting smells, and his deep dislike for cats in general, why couldn’t he just make an exception this one time? It was Cas , after all. “Yeah, but cats are less work than dogs.” At Cas’ uncertain look straying towards Dean, Sam relented. “You know there are other pets out there, other than cats, dogs, and snakes, right?”

All three pairs of eyes landed on him, Dean’s narrowed while Cas’ and Jack’s were wide. “Like what?” The latter two asked in unison.

“Like…” Sam attempted to think of something small like a cat, something that he could see Cas with. “Birds,” Dean’s eyes widened and he gave a subtle shake of his head that Sam purposely ignored. “Fish, turtles, lizards,” Dean closed his eyes in annoyance and wiped a hand down his face in tired defeat. Sam decided to put him out of his misery. “Hamsters, guinea pigs. There’s a lot.”

Cas’ eyes lit up in wonder. “Guinea pigs? You said you didn’t have one when I asked. That you were the guinea pig.”

Sam stared at Cas, trying to determine if the angel was serious, but Cas’ head tilt reminded him that yes, he was indeed serious. This was Cas . “Because I didn’t and I was. But forget that, it doesn’t mean you couldn’t have one if you wanted, Cas.”

Cas’ happy smile dimmed slightly when he turned to look at Dean. Dean was staring right at him, his expression pained. Cas gave Sam a short nod. “That’s okay. I appreciate it, Sam, but I don’t need a pet.”

Sam shot Dean a dark look but the man surprisingly wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, his brother was laser focused on Cas folding his hands and staring down at his uneaten burger. At the softening of his eyes, Sam knew what Dean was going to say before the words even came out.

“A guinea pig might not be so bad.”

Cas’ eyes grew wide once more and he glanced over at Dean in shock. “It’s not?”

Dean continued to study him for a moment. He then licked his lips and picked up his phone. “It’s not,” he confirmed. “Depending on the dog Jack here picks out, it might be too crammed for the backseat of Baby right now. But you and I can drop them off and run to the pet store in town, take a look around, and see if it’s what you really want.” He offered the phone to Cas. “Google it and find out what kind of food it eats.”

Cas took the phone gratefully, a bright smile appearing on his face. “Are you sure?”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder, a hint of a warm smile starting to form, and nodded. The smile grew at Cas’ gleeful expression as he unlocked Dean’s phone and began frantically searching for any information he could find on the small animals. Dean slowly removed his hand after a moment and glanced back up at the other side of the table, seeing knowing grins reflected back at him. 

He rolled his eyes and went back to his burger. “I don’t want it staying in my room, though. I’m not waking up to that thing staring back at me.”

Cas nodded. “I’ll keep it in my room at night,” he agreed as he scrolled. “It says here they make a lot of noise and I wouldn’t want anything interrupting your four hours.”

Dean mouthed ‘great’ and mimed holding a gun up to his head and pulling the trigger where Cas couldn’t see it. Jack pretended he hadn’t seen, either, but Sam’s smug smirk never went away. Not really.

After they continued to eat in silence for the next few minutes, Sam glanced around at all of the passersby and fellow patrons sitting at tables on the sidewalk. “It’s almost like Chuck never really went away.” He shook his head and balled up his napkin.

“Why would you say that?” Dean wondered.

Sam waved his hand around. “All of this. I mean, as soon as we take care of him, a pandemic hits. Kind of weird timing, don’t you think?” At Dean’s worried look in Cas’ direction, Sam immediately began backtracking. “I’m not saying he’s back. I’m just saying it’s weird, that’s all.”

“How about you don’t say it at all?” Dean ground out. “We got rid of that cosmic dick and he’s gone. For good.” He leveled a glare on Sam that clearly indicated the topic of Chuck was closed forevermore. 

“A pandemic is strange,” Cas agreed, never looking up from the phone. “But I highly doubt it’s related, Sam. A pandemic isn’t an exciting story, not to Chuck. No, this happened because of humans. And unfortunately, all of the other humans have had to deal with it.”

Dean appeared slightly relieved and reassured, but then his face darkened again. “Yeah…”

Sam was going to explain that he hadn’t meant Chuck was literally back, but decided to let the matter drop entirely. He began to discuss possible dog names with Jack, and pretended not to notice when Dean leaned over to look at the picture Cas wanted to show him, their heads nearly touching, and the laugh that tore out of Dean as he grabbed the phone back to show Cas something else. He was happy for his brother, knowing that Dean never believed he too could have something resembling a good ending. Dean and Cas were still figuring things out but he had seen the former as relaxed as he had ever seen him. Dean was grateful that their family was back together, long drives in Baby, family hunting trips, Sunday fishing forays for Dean and Jack, Tuesday movie nights, and all. And Sam was just as thankful, especially when Eileen had been added to their ranks. This ending was so much better than Butch and Sundance. They might not have gone out in a blaze of glory but Eileen’s bright smile, a warm laugh from Cas as Dean continued telling a funny story with pure adoration filling the latter’s eyes, Jack’s youthful excitement shining from his face as he talked about his plans for his dog, the world being safe from Chuck...this was so much better than their original desired ending that it wasn’t even close.

“What about...Hank?”

Jack pulled Sam out of his reverie with the odd name choice. “Hank?”

The kid smiled and nodded. 

Sam returned the smile and sat back in his chair. “How about we wait to see which dog you get? You know, if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Jack brightened. “Okay. I will.”

A sneeze sounded from across the table and everyone looked up in time to see Dean let another one loose. He shook his head and sniffled. “Sorry.”

“Bless you,” Sam offered. 

Dean waved it off but Sam watched as Cas grabbed a napkin and handed it to his brother. Before Dean could thank him, Cas pulled him close and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. Dean grimaced and waved him off, groaning, intent on not being coddled. “I’m not a baby, Cas.”

“No, you’re not,” Cas confirmed. “You’re a full grown adult that appears to be getting sick.”

“It’s a sneeze.”

Cas narrowed his eyes and held up the napkin that Dean had thrown carelessly on the table. “I counted two.”

Dean stared at the angel for a moment and Sam smiled when he saw his brother give in. He snatched the napkin from Cas’ fingers and blew his nose. He bunched up the napkin and threw it into his empty basket. “There. You happy?” Dean hurried out, sounding a little more nasal. 

Cas’ smile was blinding. “Very.” Dean didn’t resist Cas pulling him back in to place another kiss to his temple. He grimaced again but didn’t move away, allowing Cas to do as he wished. 

Sam attempted to smother a grin but failed miserably. When Dean sneezed once more, Cas lifted a finger asking if he could take his temperature which the hunter immediately batted away, telling him he was fine and that was never going to happen. Dean then rolled his eyes and took the proffered second napkin from Cas, blowing his nose as he did previously. Jack had managed to pull up pictures of dogs on his phone and was letting them all know which ones he thought would be a good match for him. Cas wondered if the dog would try to eat his guinea pig, if he should be concerned, which earned a horrified look from Jack and another loud groan from Dean. As Sam got up to throw out their garbage, he heard Cas’ promise to make Dean some chicken soup when they got home and assurance that they could go to the pet store when he was feeling better, Dean’s insistence that he wasn’t sick, and Jack’s promise that he wouldn’t let his dog eat Cas’ guinea pig. The younger Winchester smiled. A better ending indeed.

[bebellsoterel]

Day 20

@winchester-reload

[artymcart]

SUPTOBER 2020 MASTERPOST Week 5

Day 28: Hellscape / Day 29: Fragile / Day 30: Dress up / Day 31: Carry On

ENDVERSE AU MASTERPOST

[lizstiel]

day one - on the road again

[occult-castiel]

Leave a message (after the beep!)

Suptober. Day 13: Rewind Dean has a few things to say to Cas. Word count: 2542 [Read on Ao3]

3 Weeks.

Dean's been stealing glances at his phone for over an hour. The dim light of the hall that creeps from under his door is the only reason he can see the thing, blurred out to a barely-there grey hunk of plastic.

The idea is fucking stupid. He doesn't care what Sam thinks. Sam wasn't even supposed to know. Let alone have fucking opinions.

But Dean slipped.

And it took more effort than he will ever admit to walk out of the kitchen without clocking his brother in the goddamn jaw.

Fuck Sam and fuck the phone.

He turns around, away from the stupidest temptation of his life, and demands sleep come.

It's only mildly successful.

2 Month, 1 Week.

Nothing bad can happen from a phone call. Doing it once can’t hurt you any more than you are now

Sam's a well-meaning kid. He really is. But sometimes he just needs to can it.

'Cause he had to go and say some shit like that, completely unprompted — they were talking about potential witch activity in Utah, not Dean's feelings, for Christ's sake — and now it's all Dean can think about now that the distractions of the day have bled into a dark room and cold bed.

And that gray hunk of plastic on his desk is laughing at him. He could reach it if he sat up. Stretched a bit.

But the idea is dumb. And Sam doesn't get it. He really fucking doesn’t.

Except Dean knows he's kind of full of crap.

He grits his teeth, shoves the covers to the side, and grabs his phone.

With each passing buzz, his heart stutters, breath cut into shorter and shorter spurts.

Stupidstupidstupid.

It- it isn't like he's gunna answer. Dean knows he not, but it just rings and rings and —

"This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail."

And it hurts.

He calls again every night for the next week. Of course, he never picks up. Sam doesn't ask.

4 Months.

Dean kicks the door after it slams shut. Throws his gun at his headboard, if it goes off and shoots him, oh fucking well. It's great. Just fantastic.

He pulls his phone out without thinking. Clicks Cas.

It rings, and for a moment his shoulders relax as the familiar greeting plays. Cause its Cas' voice. And fuck. Just… fuck.

Then it beeps, and he actually does the one thing he's wanted for months.

"None of your douchebag family will answer me. And I've tried friggin' everything, I swear to Christ."

He runs his hand over his face, glances up at the sour-yellow ceiling.

"How you ever stood them is beyond me dude."

And then, like a rational human being. He hangs up and pretends that whatever that was didn't happen.

Once the bitter taste of angels that don’t pick the fucking phone up from earlier that day fades, Dean stares at the darkened ceiling.

He left a voicemail. A fucking voicemail.

Pathetic.

4 Months, 3 Weeks.

So he hasn't called again since his, uh, slip up. And Sam keeps giving him these little looks. And he knows that Sam knows, and knows he isn't calling because he's a changed man or whatever.

Maybe Sam would drop it, whatever the hell he thinks Dean's mess is, if he could manage to eat.

Jody, Claire, Kaia, and Alex are all around the table with them. Jody's the charmer she always is, talking about how she's grateful for the help and oh, of course you guys are gunna stay for dinner! Ah-ah! No buts.  

There was a hunt in town she tracked down with Claire, a huge vamps nest — we're talking dozens — and called them over for help. And is now feeding them. Because she's a saint and never deserved to be in the know in the first place.

Dean looks at the food. Pork lathered in dark brown graveyard with a mountain of buttery mashed potatoes. There's a pile of carrots on Sam's plate. Dean opted out.

Not that he's eating now. No, mostly just pushing it all around. He does eat in general.

But Claire isn't looking at him. Hasn't. She barely managed a glance up when he saved her — just a small nod and weary glance.

Sam, on the other hand, may as well be ogling.

Dean wishes he could read Sam's mind, find out where he's keeping it so Dean can wallow in misery without his brother being keen on some of the finer details, thank you very much.

He manages a few bites. Its excellent, mouth-watering, home-cooked goodness he's missed fiercely since he got a taste for it the few days Mrs. Butters was around.

But right now? Turns his stomach.

On the way back home, Sam clears his throat. Dean grips the wheel a little tighter.

"So —"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Samantha."

In the corner of his eye, Sam's shoulder slump. His brother looks down and sighs out a sad little noise.

But the rest of the drive is quiet. And that's a win in Dean's book.

*

It's roughly midnight, and books are scattered across the library table. They're all open to different pages, but none of it matters. Not really.

Dean's combing through it all anyway. Has been since Heavens decided they have a no-call policy with anyone named Winchester.

The piles he has laid around him have grown increasingly larger as the weeks have drug on. Spiked exponentially when he decided not to call anymore.

"Hey Dean."

Dean snaps his head up mid-sentence. Sam stands in the threshold, holding a plate. In pajamas.

Dean just looks at him. "What?"

"Made you food." He lifts the plate up a fraction

"That looks like a cold cut, so made is a generous word."

Sam has the audacity to slump into himself, full-on wounded-puppy mode. So Dean rolls his eyes and waves him over.

The plate gets sat down with a distinct clank, and Sam pats his shoulder.

"You know I just… want what's best for you."

Dean tenses his shoulders, closes the book in front of him. He speaks through his teeth.

"Yeah, well I never had it in the first place. And now it is gone, and there's nothing I can do."

"You don't know that Dean."

He glues his eyes to the back of the book. Balls his fists.

"Don't I? That — That fucking thing just —"

"I know. But it's also gone. We don't know what happened."

Dean chooses then to look over, fix his brother with a proper glare so he'll go the hell away — but sees it.

Sitting innocuously on the plate, like it isn't an affront to everything Dean would rather not, is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Sam's talking but he can't hear it. His brains turned to mush, a radio-static circus of nothing.

The bottom of his chair screeches as it drags against the floor.

And Dean can’t see.

Sam grabs his arm, he shakes it off. He moves decisively, tries too, but his eyes prickle and he can’t see shit, and he isn’t about to cry right there in front of his brother, validate every stupid thought the guy has that’s probably one-hundred percent right.

His door clicks shut, and he pressed himself against it. Slides down until he hits the icy floor.

Dean's throat is a constricted cage, each breath in has to be muscled in, down, out. Each wobble as much as the last.

Sam doesn't know shit. He doesn’t know what he's talking about. He really doesn't.

Calling someone who can’t answer, won’t ever answer, is fucking stupid. It's not therapeutic.

When he rubs a hand over his face. It comes back wet, and his eyes sting.

"Fuck."

He fishes for his phone. Going to Cas' number is muscle memory at this point.

It rings. Cause Sam can't help but keep the thing charged.

"This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail."

The ball in his chest is impossibly tight. Why hasn't he called? Just to hear him again, the gruff tenor that's like gravel and silk and the only thing he ever wants to hear, ever. And now he only has nine words he'll ever hear him say again.

That's it. Two sentences.

You saved the whole world. He didn’t save shit.

And what the fuck is he supposed to do now? How is he supposed to do anything? He’s never been any good, not as good as he needs to be. Maybe if he would’ve been — or did somethin’ different, anything different —

Dean threads his fingers in his hair and balls his fist. Squeezes his eyes shut against the pool of tears that just leak out, and curls in on himself. His guts are twisted and tight, just like the rest of him. Every part of him shakes, the hand vice-gripping his hair should hurt, should be enough to pull him back to sanity, but the tears don’t stop.

And really what does it matter if he cries. Chucks gone, and The Empty, that — that thing got what was coming to it.

But Cas didn't come back.

He lulls his head against the door, untangles the hand from his hair like his fingers piston operated they ache so bad

God, Cas should’ve just left him in Hell.

Maybe he's Heaven, Billy had said with a shrug. Casual. Like she didn't understand. And Dean knows she does. She gets it more than any of them, saw just what this shit did the last time. Saw exactly how much he didn't want to be around.

Jack had to fuck off to put the universe in balance, so he’s MIA and no help. And Heaven doesn't seem to give a shit.

There must've been a beep somewhere, so Dean just goes with it. Presses the phone to his ear again and works his jaw open until it’s loose enough to allow something resembling words can happen.

"It's — it's bullshit." God Dean can't recognize his own voice, pulled thin and hoarse. "You — you know that right? Bullshit." He shakes his head. Tries to take a deep breath that comes out only slightly less ragged. "You always left. And I — I get that you had to sometimes. But no one wanted you here more than me."

He wipes his face off with the collar of his shirt. His skull screams in sharp pain, and his temples thud. And normally this would be too long of a pause, but normally you don't start a voicemail off trying not to sob, and normally they're made for people who can actually listen to them. So whatever.

"This is stupid. It's not — voicemails ain't your style." His breath leaves, and exhaustion sets deep into his bones. "You always just called back for the explanation. You'd leave 'em, though."

At least Dean assumes. Every call back he'd ever gotten from the guy he'd have to fill him in on whatever was happening anyway. Guess it makes sense in a way. If you have enough time to listen to a message, you've got enough time to call.

The space behind his robes aches when he says, "We both shoulda picked up more, I guess. And Sammy wants me to call now. Like it makes up for shit. It doesn't."

He swipes the little red phone to the left, and stares at the word Cas in his contacts page.

But the screen goes blank, and all he can see are his puffy red eyes reflected in the black screen, and that's motivation, so he gets ready for bed.

1 Year, 10 Months, 13 Days

He calls a few times after that. But tries not to leave voicemails for someone that's just gone, in every sense of the word.

It’s dumb. Still really dumb. And he has no defense for it. Eventually Sam hands him Cas' old phone and a charger. All of the missed voicemails untouched.

Dean could swear he remembers ever last one.

They're mostly simple crap, sometimes. Updates.

"Sam and Eileen are getting hitched. They're pretty fucking disgusting together. But sometimes they look at me, and I can just see it, man. See how they like, bubble themselves off." He laughs, but it's strained.  "Guess it just be written on my face. Which is just friggin’ fantastic. Cause I'm happy for them. I've always wanted that for Sam. But I wanted it for us too. Fucked up that I can only say it now, huh."

"I don't like the way burgers taste anymore. And I, uh, have a bumper sticker now. It's a bee. I kept it together until Sam got misty-eyed." There's a pause for a touch too long, then, "That mixtapes been the only thing in Baby for a month."

"I kept the trenchcoat. Wore it earlier. Got cold out for the first time since —" he sighs. "You wore it better. Looks like shit on me. It pretty much lives in my closet. Can't get monster guts on it that way."

But sometimes it's just a confession, none of the other bullshit. Just the truth.

"Look. I'm not mad. So don't think that. Cause I'm not. Wish I was. It's — it's always been easier. But I was trying to get my head on straight. I would've for you. I just… Don't know how now."

"Can't tell if I like using your old angel blade or fucking hate it. Don't like much of anything anymore. You were better with it."

"Id pray to you, but this is all I got. And I wish I could hope you're up there. But then I'd hope there isn't any pay per view Earth or whatever. Cause this shit? Is pitiful." A sigh. "G'night, Cas."

And one night, a long time later, he's sitting with his back against his bed, nestled next to the end table he never used, he says the truth in a way he knows he should've years and years ago.

"Guess this is like prayin', ain't it? Sammy caught me a few months ago. He wasn't even surprised I'm still doing this. Told me it was, uh — It was okay. Even if I just… never did. And you know what? I don't think l can." He gives a small laugh. "Hell, I only leave messages when I'm feeling, I dunno, brave? Like some part of me thinks you could still hear it and tell me to get lost."

Logically, he knows Cas wouldn't have kicked him to the curb. Wanted him just as much.

"God I listen to it almost every night dude. Just hearing this stupid fucking line —  It's like hitting rewind, for a few seconds."

The rest comes off easy, in its own way

"I miss you, Buddy. And I — I love you more than I know what to do with. I wish it would've been enough. But instead, it killed you."

He ends it, and calls back. Just to listen to the only thing he'll ever hear Cas say again. It’s not a replacement, never will be until he can see if Heaven really does have an angels left.

But the only faith he ever had is just an echo on the other end.

"This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail."

[aoitrinity]

Suptober 2020 Day 1: On the Road Again

I can't believe I let myself be talked into this, but @winchester-reload told me it would be good for me and here I am, staying up until 3:30 AM on a work night so that I could put together this little watercolor piece (and you can't even see the colors properly UGH)

Also a fun fact: I haven't really drawn much at all in the last six or seven years, and I DEFINITELY haven't broken out the watercolors in years, so...uh...I'm definitely super rusty. But I guess putting out something is better than nothing?

Anyway, happy day one of Suptober, all! Hope to be back with something (better) tomorrow!

[with-dean]

Suptober Prints!

All 31 of my Suptober pieces + some more SPN prints are now available here!

And to everyone who was waiting for a specific piece to be uploaded - thank you for your patience!! 

[maryamlewk]

Suptober2020 | Day 15: Third eye

I close my eyes

Only for a moment, and the moment's gone

All my dreams

Pass before my eyes, a curiosity

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

[leafzelindor]

Suptober day 1 on the road again

[spnsmile]

Day 19: Pour @winchester-reload 🌸

Dean and Castiel were supposed to clean the impala, but due to Cas' constant absences in the bunker, he and Dean ended sharing stories with Dean pouring hearts and feeling into making Castiel laugh

[macabremonsterstudios]

Suptober Day 18: Dark & Stormy Night

"Guess I’ll just... wait here then..."

I remembered that one iconic scene where Cas and Dean talked on the phone for one of the first times and I’m not sure if it rained but it gave my a good starting point

[bebellsoterel]

@winchester-reload

[artymcart]

8SUPTOBER 2020 MASTERPOST Week 4

Endverse AU Link

Day 22: “I cursed the gloom that set us free, But I know that I love you so..” / Day 23: Favorite / Day 24: Family Business / Day 25: Villain / DAY 26: Walk of Shame / Day 27: Banquet

[winchester-reload]

Will you do a suptober this year too? I did 3 things last year. I'd like to maybe try to do more this time.

Yes! I will be hosting Suptober again this year, so prepare yourselves and your arting hands

[trenchcas]

Day 1: On the Road Again

My entry for @winchester-reload and the Suptober challenge! Yes I am doing this at like eleven p.m. haha

dust in the wind

Sam shrugged on his hoodie, pushing the door of the bunker ajar. It was drafty outside, the chilly winter air rustling up leaves that lay dead on the ground. Sam squinted his eyes against the harsh sting of the wind, looking for the car. 

It was parked up the road, and three figures stood next to it. Sam, of course, could make them out easily as Dean, Cas, and Jack. They were talking over the hood of the car, voices soft under the sound of Jack’s obnoxious slurping. It was incredibly loud- Sam could hear it from here.

He made quickly to join the trio beside the Impala; Jack put down his drink quickly, looking guilty. “Sorry,” he said quickly, before walking over to a trash bin on the other side of the road. 

Sam watched him go for a moment before turning to Dean and Cas. “A case?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” said Dean, handing him clippings from a newspaper. 

Sam read it hurriedly. “Local man found drained of blood in nightclub restroom.”

“That’s gotta be a vamp,” Dean said. Sam handed the articles to Cas, who passed them to Jack once he had come back from the trash. 

“Do you want to come with us?” asked Cas.

“You know I wouldn’t miss it on team bonding time,” he chuckled in reply. This earnt him an amused look from Dean. “What?” 

Dean looked affronted. “Nothing,” he said. And then, in a low voice, he added. “I’d thought you might want more Eileen bonding time.”

“You’re the worst.”

“What does that mean?” asked Jack, looking from Cas to Sam to Dean, thoroughly confused. 

“Nothing- nothing,” said Cas, shooing off Dean and his smug smirks. “It doesn’t matter, Jack.”

Jack still looked very lost.

Sam let out a short, huffy laugh. “Well, we don’t have all year, guys.”

He pulled open the passenger door of Baby and stepped in, bumping his head on the roof as he did. Sam frowned and buckled his seatbelt as Dean climbed into the driver’s side, whistling some stupid song to himself. Cas and Jack came next, loading themselves uncomfortably into the backseat. Sam saw Dean shoot a quick look back at them before popping a cassette tape into the player.

“Really?” Sam asked him. “Kansas?”

“What?” Dean bit back. “It’s good, Sammy. And anyway, you know the rules.”

Sam didn’t reply.

“C’mon, say ‘em.”

Sam sighed and in the most monotonous voice he could muster, said: “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

Dean raised a hand to his ear and sighed, satisfied. Sam threw him a nasty look. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Could we please just go?” Cas asked irritably from where he sat, wedged in between Jack and large box of tapes. 

Dean rolled his eyes and started the engine. The car pulled off to a slow start and then sped up quickly, the hum of the motor loud and clear. Dean then proceeded to turn up the volume, much to Sam’s dismay. He shot his older brother another look.

Dean smiled as the music began. He pushed the gas pedal, steely determination plastered on his face.

Dust in the wind All we are is dust in the wind

anyway this didn’t turn out at all like i wanted it to but here ya go! my entry for #suptober20! hope y’all liked it (i sure didn’t)

[thegirlofstarlight]

Suptober Day 6: Mask

(In which Dean and Castiel haven’t met yet).

Dean wanted to get out of here as fast as he could. While it was true that he liked partying, masquerade balls surely weren’t his thing.

Sam had taken one look at where the next hunt was gonna take them and had started spouting a hundred excuses as to why he couldn’t go. So, it had been left to Dean the arduous task of finding a demon at this horrible place. The ball wasn’t that much different from hell, he thought.

The hunter took another sip from his drink and pressed his back to the edge of the bar’s top. He saw himself on the mirrors across the room, the black mask tightly fitted against his face, hiding the top half of his face. He did look pretty good in that black tux, he had to admit.

His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything suspicious that might reveal the demon to him.

“Have you come here by yourself?”

A new, feminine voice interrupted him from his train of thoughts. Dean turned towards the voice, finding himself face to face with a masked redhead.

“I am,” he answered, pressing the cold of his glass to his lips once more.

A deep blue mask covered her face, leaving only her eyes and lips visible. Her long, flowy dress was of the same color. Red locks of hair framed her face, falling softly on her bare shoulders.

Then it dawned on Dean that confessing that he was alone probably wasn’t the wisest thing to say to a stranger. What if she was the demon?

“Then you have no reason to be here by yourself.” She smiled slightly. “Care for a dance?”

“I don’t-“ But before he could argue, she had gripped his wrist and dragged him back to the dance floor.

Sighing, he reluctantly put his hand on the girl’s waist as she put hers on his shoulder. She hadn’t even let him finish his drink. But, he supposed, he might as well try to have some fun if he was going to be stuck here for the next few hours. He might even end up dancing with the demon.

A new song started and he let the girl guide him to the beat of the music.

An hour passed by in a blur.

Song after song. Partner after partner. Dean danced and danced, the alcohol blurring his thoughts slightly. Why he’d ever thought masquerade balls weren’t his thing, he had no idea. His feet glided over the white marble floors, his lips tugged upwards in the ghost of a smile.

He hadn’t found the demon yet, but he still had time.

-

Castiel liked mingling with humans. They were fun to hang out with, with their weird antics and dangerous ideas. So when a demon case sprung up right in the middle of one of their big cities, he had been the first to ask for it.

This party was quite different from the rest he had attended. In this one, he was required to hide his identity with a white mask over the top half of his face. He was fine with that, he loved mimicking the human’s behavior.

He had also discovered he wasn’t bad at dancing. Sure, he still stumbled and stepped on other people’s toes, but he could follow pretty well.

After dancing for some time, the angel decided he wanted to take a break for a little while.

But as he was about to step away from the crowd, his feet got stuck on something and he fell face-first to the floor.

Or, he would have, if someone hadn’t caught him by the arm.

Sighing with relief, he looked up at his savior. He encountered green eyes surrounded by a black mask.

“Thank you, sir… uh…”

“Winchester.”

“Thank you, sir Winchester.”

“No problem.” The man pulled the angel back to his feet and took his hand back.

The angel’s skin tingled where the stranger’s hand had been.

Any normal person would have turned and walked away. But, for some reason, Castiel found himself drawn to the man. And it seemed the stranger felt the same way, because he made no move to leave.

“And what’s your name?” Those green eyes gleamed with interest.

“I have no name,” the angel answered.

“Really?” He moved a step closer. “Then let me call you mine for a dance or two.”

The angel could only nod as he followed Sir Winchester back to the dance floor.

A soft song started to play, one that spoke about a love that could live through space and time.

Castiel put his hand on the man’s shoulder and felt as the stranger laid a hand on his waist, leaving goosebumps wherever he touched. Castiel followed the stranger’s steps, their foreheads almost touching.

He closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

Somehow, even though he just met the man, he felt as if he belonged.

___

So I’m joining this year’s Suptober a bit late, and this didn’t come out as I wanted it to, but I had fun writing it. I wanted them to kiss, but I feel that it would’ve been too forced. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: the “I have no name” dialogue isn’t mine, it’s from Assassin’s Blade by Sarah J. Maas.

@winchester-reload