@wanderingcas posted this wip challenge for people who need motivation to finish theirs, with a "encouraging anyone else" tagging system, so I'm joining with the beginning snippet of a sequel to an older fic of mine, like only a best friend could, which was a post-high school destiel au. I couldn't leave the ending so bittersweet, so I've been tinkering away at a "10 years later" happily ever after.
You Can't Go Home Again is shoved, a little too aptly, between the windshield and dashboard, a paperback copy that's showing its age and wear in the form of a wrinkled cover and rippling pages.
As the price on the gas pump climbs higher and higher, Cas sighs, letting his head fall back against the driver's side headrest, wondering, not for the first time, what he's doing here exactly. 28 is maybe too young to have a midlife crisis, but that's what it feels like.
The insomnia, the nerves he can't shake, the unmovable and constant dread that's settled inside of him like a tiny intruder drove stakes into Cas’s chest and set up camp—okay, maybe that's not a midlife crisis, maybe that's just anxiety. That's what Balthazar would tell him, anyway, and then he'd offer Cas a tantalizing concoction of pharmaceuticals to 'help' rid Cas of these 'ails.' Cas has taken him up on this only once, when they were newly getting to know one another through mutual friends. The ensuing trip could only be described as a hellish existential nightmare that Cas would like to never repeat.
Still. As he sits now, with his heart racing enough he can feel the pulse of it in his throat, he thinks he wouldn't mind an opportunity to dull the edge.
Going back home shouldn't be this hard. And, yet, he's struggling.
Maybe because there's nothing left of Sioux Falls for Cas to even call 'home.' Naomi—his mother—she passed away three years ago, the last time he returned. His aunt had arranged everything, so all Cas needed to do was attend the funeral service, watching as well-intentioned strangers described a loving, caring woman he himself never knew. The version he grew up with was strict and stern and unwavering in her faith, instilling in him a righteousness and fear of religious disloyalty he still sometimes finds himself defaulting to. In her way, she loved Cas, but it was exactly that—in her way, and only that. Finding out she had raised a man with a sexual preference her Bible group would accuse 'deviant'? It regularly tested the conditions of his mother's supposed unconditional love.
Besides, last time he was home, he was forced to confront more than just his familial trauma. There was also Dean.
"Heya, mopey," Gabe calls through the rolled down window of the passenger seat, cutting through Cas's thoughts like a lifted veil. "Perk up, yeesh. People are gonna think I'm trafficking you."
Cas sighs, "Gabriel," weary for a whole different reason now as Gabriel waggles his eyebrows and disappears from view to disconnect the nozzle. The hose is clicked back into place before Gabe reappears, obnoxiously pleased with himself.
"I'mma go take a whiz and grab a Kickstart. Want anything?"
"Coffee would be nice. Thank you.”
"Diabetic amounts of sugar?"
"I'm kidding. Black and bitter like your dead mom's soul?" he says instead, giving Cas a grin. Cas can't even argue against that—one, because it's kind of true, but also because Gabe's already spun off and strolling towards the gas station. He can hear his loud whistling as he goes.
Cas thunks his head against the seat again.
Maybe he won't make it to Sioux Falls after all. Maybe he'll Thelma-and-Louise them off the side of a road instead.
tagging, just in case there's something on the ol' hard drive: @cockymclaughlin @glamrockcas @dollsome-does-tumblr @milkshakemicrowave @pringlesaremydivision
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