Fic/Podfic:My Life is a Movie (2a/4)
Wednesday, September 26th, 2012 12:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tenoko1Title: My Life is a Movie
Author: Tenoko1
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Cas, Awesome!Sam
Summary: It started out a simple case. Then it got complicated. And thank you very much, but Dean Winchester does NOT appreciate his life having a soundtrack like a freaking chick flick, even it's starting to resemble one.
AN: For the most part, I’m going to ignore the events after season five. This is not apart of my ‘The Path We Choose’ verse though.
Disclaimer: Supernatural, its story and characters, along with all songs mentioned/used belong to their respective owners.
Masterpost
Chapter One
Chapter Two
“I’m not sure whether to use every obscenity I know or to laugh my ass off,” barked Dean, clearly choosing to side with laughter in this case.
What was funny was that it wasn’t funny. It seemed completely normal that when Sam decided to retell of his time with Ruby, back when things had been good, back when she had been fun in the midst of her deceit, that it should choose to come out in song. And that was in and of itself weird.
The elder Winchester had his head thrown back to regard the sky, his arms outstretched. “Why, oh why, couldn’t we have been hit with this curse during the damn apocalypse? I’d just about be willing to kiss a demon again in order to see Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Uriel, and Zachariah break out in synchronized song and dance!” He lowered his arms and turned back, grinning widely at his brother and the angel standing with him. “Hell, Crowley would probably even give it to us as a freebie just for the kicks and giggles factor. Jesus, how is this our lives?”
Castiel was watching him with an expression that belied waning tolerance. “Don’t be absurd, Dean. Angels would never find themselves susceptible to a curse, much less one that is musically inclined.”
The hunter grinned and pointed at him. “You remember that when your solo strikes up.”
Cas rolled his eyes, a human gesture Dean was sure he’d picked up more from Sam than from Dean. Sam was the one with all the different facial expressions, and who’d been wronged by the universe and given Dean as a brother, who was usually the cause of Sam’s vast range of facial expression. Unless of course, it was one of those days where they were sacrificing themselves to save the other one’s bacon, which was more times out of the week than not.
Still grinning, Dean held out his brother’s to-go box. “Here. Carry your own food, and try not to embarrass me further, Princess.”
It would have been more fun for Dean to tease his little brother if it didn’t feel like he were trying to tease him for doing something completely ordinary like sneezing or, at worst, waking up with serious bedhead. Amusing enough to poke fun of, then it was let go.
“Do you think the singing is a day long trick?” wondered Sam. “That it counts as the entire trick no matter how many people it affects? Or does each occurrence count as a new trick?”
Castiel seemed to consider this and Dean watched him, deferring to the angel’s infinitely greater memory to draw comparison from. “They probably all fall under the same trick, like all the washers being affected had been the same trick.”
Sam nodded, considering this. “That does make sense, yes. A blanket effect.” His brown eyes meeting his brother’s as they reached the motel and let themselves in. “But how is it choosing its victims? So far there was the entire group before lunch, and then me.”
“Random,” wagered Dean.
Cas shook his head. “I do not believe so. There must be something that triggers it, as all curses have a trigger to both activate and deactivate. Again, the washers only ruin clothes that are white. That’s the trigger. The curse was deactivated after a period of time passed.”
Sam was nodding. “I doubt we’ll figure out why it’s happening if it only last for today, but I would like to know.”
“You looked like you were having fun,” commented Cas with a sidelong glance as they entered the motel room.
Moving over to the table, Sam opened his laptop and tossed his jacket over the back of his chair, the container of fries by his resting hand. “I was having fun,” Sam admitted, gaze reflective. “I dunno, it’s like I got swept up in the memory of all the good times between me and Ruby.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get swept back up in them,” warned Dean, “in case we end up with a repeat performance.”
“You think that could be the trigger?” wondered Sam, regarding his brother for his input. “A strong memory? Or like, when you feel a surge of emotions and such that go along with that memory?”
Dean shrugged, Cas watching them silently. “Dunno. We don’t have enough to go on. That could have been the case for you, but what about the entire group of people earlier? I doubt they all have the same memory they can sing and dance about.”
Scratching at his jaw with the back of his thumb, Sam considered, “Well, it could be like in a movie, I guess. Like in musicals. The song may not be about them, but they still get swept up in the bigger scenes just by being near the people the song really does revolve around.”
His elder brother arched a brow. “You watch musicals?”
Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Man, don’t even play. You and I have watched musicals together, so I know you’ve seen some, too. Pastor Jim had a huge collection of them, remember? And then we’ve ended up watching them when there was nothing else on TV. Frankly, I’d pick a musical over your B-rated horror flicks any day.” He paused. “Unless it’s Mary Poppins.”
“Dude, how can you not like the nanny?”
His brother shuddered. “I really just hate that movie. And the ending was depressing to me.”
“A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, Sammy,” reminded Dean with a grin as he flopped down onto his bed with one of the books they’d gotten from the library.
His younger brother regarded the angel, their gazes locking. Surreptitiously, Castiel slid his gaze to the pillow on Sam’s bed, seemingly watching as it jumped into the air and flung itself across the room at Dean with a sound of feathers rustling.
In his surprise, Dean missed the grin and high-five the two of them gave each other.
--
They procured a map of the woods and areas surrounding the town, Sam and Dean preparing to go tromping in the woods. Castiel left to go see what he could find, apparently Heaven had a much more vast Library he had access to now that he wasn’t excommunicated anymore.
Dean thought he could really get behind the idea of Cas having those kind of connections to help them on cases. They would have copies of texts that had probably been long destroyed on earth. Of course, Dean didn’t want Cas to do research on their behalf if it would get him into trouble either, which he tried to stress as discreetly as possible to Cas, which only made the angel regard him in confusion.
Fine. See if Dean worried anymore about whether or not Cas helping them ended up hurting the angel’s refounded relationship with his siblings. Not that he worried about the angel whenever he wasn’t with them or anything. Nope, he never wondered if they hadn’t changed their minds and decided to put Cas through yet another reeducation. He didn’t worry about that, or if they might strip Cas of his ability to return to earth just to keep him away from the Winchesters. He didn’t wonder if Cas was being treated fairly since he was the angel to defy orders and basically fall of his own free will. Or if Cas had any real allies in Heaven that were watching his back for him.
No, Dean Winchester did not worry about Castiel at all.
“Let’s start with the trails that are already in place and marked,” the younger Winchester suggested, finger on the map. “Our regular gear isn’t suited for this, though.”
Checking their weapons and talismans, Dean glanced only briefly at the line his brother indicated, then to the other man.
“Why not?”
“Well for one, we aren’t actually preparing to kill it, remember? We just have to find it.”
“We need to be prepared in case it plans to make us its only victims, though.”
Sam nodded. “Point, but I think discretion is good here. We jog the trail like anyone else might be, give us an idea of our environment, see if we notice anything that might be a clue, which we don’t follow up on til later.”
“You just want to go for a jog,” snorted Dean.
“I want a visual of the area more than just what I see on a map.”
With a sigh, Dean looked down at himself them shrugged out of his leather jacket, moving over to his bag instead. “Alright, fine. You wanna jog ten miles, we’ll jog ten miles. First to give out- read ‘you’- buys dinner. Lace up your sneakers, Lance Armstrong.”
Exasperated, Sam rolled his eyes. “That’s biking, Dean.”
--
“Oh God,” panted Dean from where he lay sprawled in the forest floor panting and in agonizing pain. “I’m going… to die!” He struggled a few breaths, not even having the strength to turn his head to glare accusingly at his sibling. “This is all your fault.”
Sam was in just as bad of shape. Heaving and groaning as he tried to lift his head then failed, dropping it back down to the soft earth. “Why… do you have to be… so… competitive? Shit, Dean. I don’t… even know… what hurts most.”
“Your crushing defeat…obviously.”
“Beat you by a mile.”
“Did not.”
“Did, too.”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
“Ha! If only Mike and Luci could see us now, they’d be glad we never became their vessels.”
Sam nodded, immediately regretting it. “They dodged a bullet, for sure.”
“We’re too awesome for them anyway.”
“Can’t think of any reason to become an angel’s vessel,” agreed Sam with a weak shake of his head.
Dean nodded soundlessly, and then faltered, a thought occurring. “Well… I’d agree to be Cas’ vessel if he needed me to.”
Sam lifted his head in surprise. “What?”
Dean was frowning. “Not that I can think of a reason he’d need me to be his vessel unless, like, Jimmy’s body got destroyed in a battle or something and we didn’t think they’d regenerate him a new one right away or something. Just so he wouldn’t get stuck in heaven without a vessel on earth.”
“What about Claire?”
Dean turned his head. “You’d rather he take over a kid’s body? Are you kidding?”
“Who took over a child’s body?” questioned Cas curiously.
“Oh hey look,” exclaimed Dean breathlessly as a figure came to stand over them, head angled in concern and confusion. “Cas came to personally escort me to Heaven in my time of dying. Hi, Cas.” A dopey grin passed over the hunter’s face. He would later blame it on deliriousness due to exhaustion. “We were talking about that you have my permission to use me as a vessel should an emergency ever arise that you need to. Not that we can think of one, but I trust you, and you have my permission. If I’m your blood type, or whatever.”
The angel blinked, face going carefully neutral. “Y-you’re giving me…” He frowned. “You wouldn’t even let an angel far greater than myself- an archangel- within yourself, yet you would allow me?”
Dean shrugged best he could from his position sprawled on the ground, breathing under control but still way too sore to move. “It’s all about the ‘who’, Cas. I trust you. We’re just talking theoretically, since I can’t think of a reason why you’d ever need one, but if the emergency ever arose and you found yourself in need of a vessel, say temporarily or whatever, you have my permission to take me as a vessel.”
Sam was nodding. “Yeah, Cas, same goes for me: if you need one and Dean’s not there. I’ve got your back, too.”
Dean snorted and looked at his brother while Cas continued to wear a careful blank mask. “Dude, no. You cannot offer yourself up like that as well, that’s just gross like we’re whoring ourselves out or something. I’m not sharing vessel rights with you. It’s too personal or something. He’d be wearing one of us, after all. Sort of like trading our life for his or something. He likes me better and did me a solid by pulling me out of Hell, plus he’s apart of our family at this point anyway-“ He glanced at Cas, “Oh, we adopted you. Just so you know,” he said, then looked back at his brother. “And as the first born it is my decision that should he ever have need of a vessel, between the two of us, it going to be me.” Barely managing to push himself up into a sitting position- yes, he really wanted a long, hot bath- he regarded Cas. “Right?”
The angel’s next action took both brothers completely by surprise. He dropped to his knees, basically in Dean’s lap, one knee on either side of the hunter’s left thigh, and threw his arms around Dean’s neck, hugging the human very tightly, his face turned away as best he could from the younger Winchester. Sam realized with horror and fascinated embarrassment that Cas might actually cry.
When Dean wrapped his arms around the angel, it wasn’t to return the gesture, but more to offer comfort at the angel’s apparent sudden distress, worry and concern coloring the hunter’s face.
“Cas? You okay? Did I say something wrong? What’s the matter? Would you prefer Sam? If you would, that’s okay, too, I just-“
“Thank you,” the angel choked out, and Sam was suddenly fascinated by the moss and ferns growing on a fallen tree in the distance, trying to give them at least the illusion of privacy while Castiel apparently had an emotional moment. “Thank you for your selfless generosity and concern for my well-being.”
Dean was rubbing a hand in soothing motions up and down the angel’s spine like he use to years ago when a distraught Sam would throw himself into his big brother’s arms bawling. “What? Dude, Sam and I would both take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. Thought you knew that. This is just putting it in angel terms since bullets don’t bother you. Man, we are bad friends if you didn’t realize we care what happens to you and that we want you okay.” He squeezed the angel tightly. “I’m sorry, Cas. I’ve- We’ve got your back, man… No matter what.”
Even with his back to them, Sam rolled his eyes, wanting so badly to announce ‘That’s how Dean pronounces ‘I love you’, Cas. Even if he doesn’t realize it. My brother’s an idiot. I apologize. There’s no cure.’.
Sam heard a shuffle of fabric and turned his head to discreetly watch the exchange going on behind him. They were a hair’s breath apart, something anyone else wouldn’t be comfortable with, but this was Dean and Cas after all, and they had their own rules as far as personal space went, and apparently, none was required.
Sam had asked about it once, and Dean said he got tired of reminding the angel about it and just got use to it instead, it was easier.
Cas shook his head, as though arguing with Dean’s words. “No, you don’t understand. When Jimmy agreed to become my vessel, it was simply because he had faith. Faith in my father, faith in his religion, faith that it would be the will of God, faith in a very broad sense. You’re agreeing because you have faith in me specifically. You have faith in me when you might not in everything else, when you most definitely don’t have faith in my father or my siblings, when you don’t even like them, and when you have no idea if things are going to turn out okay. I’m…” He faltered, struggling for the words. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip; Dean’s eyes following the movement, both of them seeming to realize their proximity at the same time. Cas’ gaze fell to Dean’s mouth in a way that made Sam certain that sentence was going to go unfinished.
‘Oh my God,’ thought Sam. ‘He’s going to kiss him. Do it. Doitdoitdoitdoit. Please, please, please just get this out in the open so I don’t have to watch all the pining anymore. Go for it, Cas.’
“I’m…” Suddenly the angel was five feet away and Dean was blinking in surprise like he’d been startled from a dream. Sam noted how the hunter was leaning forward more than he had been a moment ago. “I’m invading your personal space again,” continued the angel, lowering his eyes. “I apologize.”
With a frustrated groan, Sam threw himself back down on the forest floor.
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 08:07 pm (UTC)