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Title: Something Bright to Dispel the Gloom
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Cas
Rating/Warnings: T, spoilers through SPN 15x07
Prompt: poinsettia
Summary: A road trip to Salina had sounded like a good idea when Dean had suggested it. Cas hadn’t been back for long, though, and this was shaping up to be the world’s most awkward road trip ever.
The drive to Salina had been mostly just Zeppelin at full volume. A road trip to Salina had sounded like a good idea when Dean had suggested it. Cas hadn’t been back for long, though, and this was shaping up to be the world’s most awkward road trip ever. Dean wasn’t sure what he’d say if he and Cas tried to have a conversation now. The list was just too long and too impossible.
“Dean,” Cas cut into his thoughts, “can we stop here.”
Dean slowed and pulled into the thrift store parking lot. When he cut the engine, he almost turned the key back to be able to keep the music going, but then decided maybe he should go in. Christmas was coming, after all, so maybe he should be thinking about gifts sometime before Christmas Eve. So instead, he locked up the Impala and followed Cas inside.
To his surprise, Cas grabbed a shopping cart and simply began piling coats and sweaters into it.
“Cas?” Dean asked.
“It occurred to me that it would be potentially divisive to bring one sweater to a group of homeless men,” Cas said. “I do not think there will be enough for all, but perhaps at least for all who do not have sufficiently warm clothing.”
“Dude, how are you gonna pay…?”
Cas held up a credit card Dean had never seen before. Had he picked up the skill to create his own now?
“Charlie,” Cas said. “Apocalypse-world Charlie helped me with this. I believe this purchase will remain within the parameters she cautioned me to observe.”
Dean wondered about that, but he knew better than to pit his own computer against any version of Charlie.
All thoughts of Christmas shopping long gone, Dean followed Cas to the cash register. The clerk dutifully rang everything up and was telling Cas to swipe his card, when Cas reached to the side and grabbed a plant. A poinsettia. Dean wasn’t entirely sure it was real.
As they loaded up the car, Dean questioned the add-on.
“The shelter is very drab inside,” Cas said. “At least, I presume it still is. A bit of seasonal color may help those who are suffering from depression. Something bright to dispel the gloom.”
Dean winced. He should’ve known when Cas had a particular shelter in mind that it was one he’d personally been to. Stayed at.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as Cas slid into the passenger seat next to him.
“Sorry for what, Dean?” Cas asked. “Throwing me out of the bunker to protect Sam? We’ve been over that. Or is there something more recent you’d like to discuss?”
Dean pressed his lips together and turned on the engine.
Once they’d dropped off the donations and said goodbye to the cheerful fellow who ran the place (and apparently knew Cas and had way too much to say to him out of Dean’s earshot), it was time to head back. Dean was getting hungry, but that was the last thing he was going to bring up right now. He could last till they got back, or maybe he could grab something when they stopped for gas. Again.
About a mile out of town, he finally cracked.
“All of it,” he said. “I’m sorry for all of it. For blaming you for Mom. For Rowena. I was pissed at the world, but none of that was on you. I had doubts about Jack too. And I should never have trusted Belphagor.”
“I still do not understand how the fact he wore Jack’s face inspired trust in you,” Cas said. “I realize you could not see his demonic visage as I could, but you did not trust Jack. Why in the world would you trust a demon wearing his corpse?”
“I didn’t.” Dean shrugged. “Just… it’s all too big. Too much. So tackling one problem at a time, first the ghosts and then the demon, that was the only way I could think to do it.”
Silence fell for the next couple of miles.
“I forgive you, Dean,” Cas said. “I have and will always forgive you.”
“Thanks, man.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair, not taking his eyes off the road. “Are we good?”
“I don’t know.” Cas sighed. Dean wondered about that sometimes. Was that just a habit of his vessel left over from Jimmy? Cas didn’t need to breathe, much less sigh, and yet he did. “I would like for us to be ‘good,’ and yet it seems every time we begin to work well together, something goes wrong, and you hold me responsible.”
Yeah, Dean could see that.
“Mary told me, once, that she was glad I had come into your and Sam’s lives. That she had always told you when she put you to bed that angels were watching over you, and now she knew it was true, even if she didn’t trust most of them anymore.”
Dean felt like he’d been poked in the gut with a salted knife.
“I didn’t tell her this. Perhaps I should have. But now I need to tell you, Dean. You know full well that I am not perfect. I am at least as fallible as you are.” Cas paused as if considering his words carefully. “Just because you were told as a child that angels would protect you, something we have all failed repeatedly to do, that does not mean I deserve to be treated as though everything wrong in the world, everything that goes wrong in your life, is my fault.”
Dean swallowed a couple of times before he could speak. “Is that what I do?”
“Your mother gave me great insight into your early life, which I think has shaped you in ways you do not recall or realize. Yes, I believe that is exactly what you do.”
Dean chewed that over for the next dozen miles or so.
“I know I can be a dick to you,” he said finally. “I’m not sure if that’s why, but it kind of makes sense.”
Cas didn’t say anything. When Dean stole a glance at him, the angel was looking straight ahead.
“I can’t promise I’ll never fuck up again. But I can promise to try not to take shit out on you.”
“Then I think,” Cas said, “we can, perhaps, be ‘good.’”
It was less than Dean had hoped for, but more than he probably deserved.
When they had to stop for gas, Cas volunteered to man the pump so Dean could take a leak and pick up something to eat. When he went to check out, Dean saw a display by the register that had little poinsettias like the one Cas had bought earlier. By the time he got outside, Cas had finished filling Baby’s tank and was back in the car. When Dean handed him the fake flower, he looked surprised.
“What is this for?”
“I know Sam and Eileen kind of did up the library,” Dean said, “but last time I checked, your room is still kind of ‘drab.’ Thought you might like some seasonal color to brighten it up.”
The smile Cas gave him in reply was all the brightness Dean could ask for.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Cas
Rating/Warnings: T, spoilers through SPN 15x07
Prompt: poinsettia
Summary: A road trip to Salina had sounded like a good idea when Dean had suggested it. Cas hadn’t been back for long, though, and this was shaping up to be the world’s most awkward road trip ever.
The drive to Salina had been mostly just Zeppelin at full volume. A road trip to Salina had sounded like a good idea when Dean had suggested it. Cas hadn’t been back for long, though, and this was shaping up to be the world’s most awkward road trip ever. Dean wasn’t sure what he’d say if he and Cas tried to have a conversation now. The list was just too long and too impossible.
“Dean,” Cas cut into his thoughts, “can we stop here.”
Dean slowed and pulled into the thrift store parking lot. When he cut the engine, he almost turned the key back to be able to keep the music going, but then decided maybe he should go in. Christmas was coming, after all, so maybe he should be thinking about gifts sometime before Christmas Eve. So instead, he locked up the Impala and followed Cas inside.
To his surprise, Cas grabbed a shopping cart and simply began piling coats and sweaters into it.
“Cas?” Dean asked.
“It occurred to me that it would be potentially divisive to bring one sweater to a group of homeless men,” Cas said. “I do not think there will be enough for all, but perhaps at least for all who do not have sufficiently warm clothing.”
“Dude, how are you gonna pay…?”
Cas held up a credit card Dean had never seen before. Had he picked up the skill to create his own now?
“Charlie,” Cas said. “Apocalypse-world Charlie helped me with this. I believe this purchase will remain within the parameters she cautioned me to observe.”
Dean wondered about that, but he knew better than to pit his own computer against any version of Charlie.
All thoughts of Christmas shopping long gone, Dean followed Cas to the cash register. The clerk dutifully rang everything up and was telling Cas to swipe his card, when Cas reached to the side and grabbed a plant. A poinsettia. Dean wasn’t entirely sure it was real.
As they loaded up the car, Dean questioned the add-on.
“The shelter is very drab inside,” Cas said. “At least, I presume it still is. A bit of seasonal color may help those who are suffering from depression. Something bright to dispel the gloom.”
Dean winced. He should’ve known when Cas had a particular shelter in mind that it was one he’d personally been to. Stayed at.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as Cas slid into the passenger seat next to him.
“Sorry for what, Dean?” Cas asked. “Throwing me out of the bunker to protect Sam? We’ve been over that. Or is there something more recent you’d like to discuss?”
Dean pressed his lips together and turned on the engine.
Once they’d dropped off the donations and said goodbye to the cheerful fellow who ran the place (and apparently knew Cas and had way too much to say to him out of Dean’s earshot), it was time to head back. Dean was getting hungry, but that was the last thing he was going to bring up right now. He could last till they got back, or maybe he could grab something when they stopped for gas. Again.
About a mile out of town, he finally cracked.
“All of it,” he said. “I’m sorry for all of it. For blaming you for Mom. For Rowena. I was pissed at the world, but none of that was on you. I had doubts about Jack too. And I should never have trusted Belphagor.”
“I still do not understand how the fact he wore Jack’s face inspired trust in you,” Cas said. “I realize you could not see his demonic visage as I could, but you did not trust Jack. Why in the world would you trust a demon wearing his corpse?”
“I didn’t.” Dean shrugged. “Just… it’s all too big. Too much. So tackling one problem at a time, first the ghosts and then the demon, that was the only way I could think to do it.”
Silence fell for the next couple of miles.
“I forgive you, Dean,” Cas said. “I have and will always forgive you.”
“Thanks, man.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair, not taking his eyes off the road. “Are we good?”
“I don’t know.” Cas sighed. Dean wondered about that sometimes. Was that just a habit of his vessel left over from Jimmy? Cas didn’t need to breathe, much less sigh, and yet he did. “I would like for us to be ‘good,’ and yet it seems every time we begin to work well together, something goes wrong, and you hold me responsible.”
Yeah, Dean could see that.
“Mary told me, once, that she was glad I had come into your and Sam’s lives. That she had always told you when she put you to bed that angels were watching over you, and now she knew it was true, even if she didn’t trust most of them anymore.”
Dean felt like he’d been poked in the gut with a salted knife.
“I didn’t tell her this. Perhaps I should have. But now I need to tell you, Dean. You know full well that I am not perfect. I am at least as fallible as you are.” Cas paused as if considering his words carefully. “Just because you were told as a child that angels would protect you, something we have all failed repeatedly to do, that does not mean I deserve to be treated as though everything wrong in the world, everything that goes wrong in your life, is my fault.”
Dean swallowed a couple of times before he could speak. “Is that what I do?”
“Your mother gave me great insight into your early life, which I think has shaped you in ways you do not recall or realize. Yes, I believe that is exactly what you do.”
Dean chewed that over for the next dozen miles or so.
“I know I can be a dick to you,” he said finally. “I’m not sure if that’s why, but it kind of makes sense.”
Cas didn’t say anything. When Dean stole a glance at him, the angel was looking straight ahead.
“I can’t promise I’ll never fuck up again. But I can promise to try not to take shit out on you.”
“Then I think,” Cas said, “we can, perhaps, be ‘good.’”
It was less than Dean had hoped for, but more than he probably deserved.
When they had to stop for gas, Cas volunteered to man the pump so Dean could take a leak and pick up something to eat. When he went to check out, Dean saw a display by the register that had little poinsettias like the one Cas had bought earlier. By the time he got outside, Cas had finished filling Baby’s tank and was back in the car. When Dean handed him the fake flower, he looked surprised.
“What is this for?”
“I know Sam and Eileen kind of did up the library,” Dean said, “but last time I checked, your room is still kind of ‘drab.’ Thought you might like some seasonal color to brighten it up.”
The smile Cas gave him in reply was all the brightness Dean could ask for.