It was a beautiful Friday afternoon. The sun was already beginning to set, and the Grant-Nashes were getting ready to attend an important event. It was the annual LAFD Valor Awards, and Bobby would be awarded the Medal of Valor for his years of work and dedication as a firefighter.
“Athena, are you ready?” Bobby asked, knocking at their bedroom door. Athena had been behind the closed door for the last hour after he finished getting ready, giving her more time for herself. He wasn’t rushing her; he knew better than to do that, but he also didn’t want them to be caught in traffic going downtown.
“10 minutes!” Athena replied. Bobby shook his head with a smile and walked to the dining area to join Harry, who was already dressed and having what he called a “pre-event snack”.
“Hey, Harry,” he said, sitting in one of the chairs. “Is May ready?”
The teen snorted in response, “She’s been inside the bedroom since forever.” Bobby chuckled at his words.
“Just eat your snack, Harry.” May’s voice filled the air as she joined them. Her younger brother rolled his eyes good-naturedly before resuming to his snack.
“You look beautiful, May.” Bobby complimented her, making the young woman smile.
“Thanks, Bobby.”
Normally, when he or Athena got invited to galas, it was just the two of them attending, but this time, he wanted the kids to be there as well.
Right on the dot, Athena emerged from their bedroom all dressed in a floor-length, red gown that looked like it was truly made for her. She looked utterly stunning. Bobby’s breath was caught in his throat, staring at his wife as she walked towards them. Even after all these years, she never failed to take his breath away.
“Wow,” he breathed out, standing from his seat. “You look beautiful, baby. So beautiful.” He murmured, his eyes raking her from top to bottom. He was a damn lucky man.
Athena smiled sultrily, “Thank you, Captain. And you look so handsome yourself.” She said, running her hands on the lapel down to the sleeves of his dress uniform. “Mmmm, my man looks so good.” Her eyes sparkled, drawing Bobby in for a kiss. Lips soft against each other, they forgot everything and everyone else around them.
But before they got more caught up, May cleared her throat loudly, breaking them apart. They were met with their pink-cheeked children: Harry, a slight look of disgust on his face, and May, looking at them with a look that said, “Are you kidding me? We’re right here.” Athena simply shrugged while Bobby had the decency to look at them sheepishly.
May shook her head at her parents’ antics before saying, “Okaaaay, time for pictures!” while waving her phone. Harry groaned beside her but immediately straightened up when he saw his sister’s glare.
It took thirty minutes and presumably a hundred photos (Harry’s exaggeration) of Bobby and Athena, the kids with each parent, and the four of them all together before they were finally out of the door.
“Can you send those to me? Especially the ones with your mom.” Bobby asked May as he opened the backseat of the car for her. She nodded in return with a smile on her face. They may make her cringe at times, but she also couldn’t help but admire how much her stepdad loves and adores her mom.
The drive to the venue was silent, well, except for Beyoncé’s Tyrant filling the car. Bobby was nodding his head and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat with May singing in the backseat. Harry was also nodding along, and Athena couldn’t help but chuckle a little. She loved how her husband always paid attention to their children’s interests, to the point where he surprised May with tickets to the Cowboy Carter Tour. The younger woman was absolutely elated; she had forced him to listen to the entire album and become familiar with the lyrics.
t / post-arcadia / idiots to friends / wc 1808 / no beta / ao3 / @today-in-fic
mulder gets them red-eye tickets after arcadia / the between
“Mulder, you were supposed to turn left back there…” Scully’s voice was laced with exasperation. He didn’t have to turn from the road to know that she was staring at him with an upturned brow and a frown. The same expression she’d worn almost the entire time they’d pretended to be married at Arcadia.
He nodded, trying to keep his face neutral, but didn’t say anything.
And for her part, she didn’t press. Just let out a sigh and continued to stare out the window. If she’d ordered him to tell her or to turn the car around, he’d do it. But she never did. Only peppering questions, the tilt of her mouth telling him she enjoyed the process just as much as him. Something had changed, though, and he wasn’t sure of the last time he’d seen her look at him with more than frustration and anger, simmering underneath her silent visage.
The brochure he memorized had a tiny cartoon map, directions to their destination written in blue and red and green. Clear and bright. Leading to something happy, he presumed. He’d never been, and hoped Scully would forget her irritation at him for a few hours and be his guide.
As they turned the final corner into the parking lot, a bright blue structure with rails poking out of it stood right in front of him. Beside him, Scully stood straighter in her seat.
“Mulder? Sea World?”
He shrugged, feeling his face burn. When he found a spot, somewhere near the edge of the full lot, he turned to her.
Arms crossed, and an expression he couldn’t interpret on her face. It was better than annoyance, at least. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
“When I knew this case was going to take us out here, I thought…”
“You thought we’d take in a show? Not the kind I would expect from you.” A hint of a smile. His heart sped up.
“Did you know, Scully, that dolphins have long been seen as messengers of the gods, as helpers of humankind?” He leaned against the door, facing her. And though she didn’t smile, she didn’t tune him out, watching him with guarded eyes. ”In fact, there’s a tale of a dolphin rescued by a fisherman from some nets. When his ship sank, he was the only one rescued, carried on the back of a dolphin. And ships, even today, see dolphins swimming in their wake as a good omen.”
“Confirmation bias,” she scoffed. Though her words didn’t feel as venomous as they had lately. “Also, you’re far more likely to be attacked than rescued by a dolphin. People forget, because they’re cute, but they’re vicious predators. They attack females, attack their babies. Even humans.”
“So your mom was right then, you were a ‘Sea Adventurer’ back in the day.”
“My mother?” she said. “Mulder, what’s going on? Why are we here? Some sort of psychic orca?”
He flashed her what he hoped was his most charming grin, and she relaxed into her seat. “She said you came here most days in the summer, when you were 13 or 14. I’ve never been, so I thought… maybe… you could show me around.”
She didn’t speak, but he saw the subtle transformation. A flush crept up her cheeks. The tilt of her head, curiosity and perhaps a bit of amusement. The corner of her mouth twitched as she tried not to smile.
“I got the red-eye. But I can switch it if you need to get home…”
She sighed. Bit her lip. Her hair, layered and curling, couldn’t hide her face when she bowed her head. Then she unbuckled her seat belt. “Well, we’re already here.”
Mulder fist pumped the air, grinning at her as they left the minivan, his dark sweater abandoned on his seat. She didn’t look back at him, and he couldn’t pretend that this might be an awkward afternoon. Talking about whatever was going on between them felt like it was off-limits. That it would only lead to more of a mess. He hoped that, at least, he could get her to smile and laugh. And maybe, just fucking maybe, she could see him as a friend rather than an annoyance.
She changed into clothes packed away in the back of the minivan. Her current dark funereal garb wasn’t appropriate for a hot afternoon of rides and getting splashed by sea creatures. It was out of place for sharing cotton candy and corndogs. While her change was practical, he wasn’t blind. Her ass looked great in her blue jeans, and her striped t-shirt was stretched tight over her chest. The deep vee gave a hint of cleavage. This Scully he hadn’t had the privilege of knowing, not lately.
How long had it been since they’d hung out like this? Just friends? No aliens or conspiracies to get in the way. Had they ever? What on earth, or in the universe, made him believe he could only see her when he invented an excuse?
As they walked underneath the oversized arch and he paid their tickets, it almost felt normal, like they’d planned to come here together. They were Mulder and Scully, not Rob and Laura. Partners and friends, not husband and wife. Though he supposed everyone would still see them as a couple, wandering around together at a theme park. Maybe they still had masks on, but instead of hiding their true identities behind a married couple called Petrie, they hid what they really felt and needed to talk about behind a shell of necessary congeniality. Leaning on the routine of working together. They never talked, but they should. They needed to. Something had to change. Impossible, though. Words stuck in his throat, and he suspected it was the same for her.
The roller coasters made his head swim. Though he would have lined up again and again if it meant he could see her smile, she put a stop to it when he wandered off the last one like a drunk, sitting heavily on a nearby bench. Educational pavilions were next, though Scully sped by the plastic-sheathed placards as he trailed behind, the knowledge already encased within her magnificent brain. He attempted to win a few prizes on the midway, but it was her aim that won them a giant orca plush. After carrying it around for about an hour and annoying her with whale sounds, she made him give it to a kid with sticky hands and face. It would have looked good atop his waterbed, before it had to be carried away. So would Scully. He banished the thought, but not before imagining the double vision of Scully beside him and reflected above, curled around black and white fuzz.
Worth it, he thought, as the real Scully took his hand and squeezed, looking up at him with a bright smile.
Mid-afternoon disappeared, the edge of dusk on the eastern horizon beginning to chase away the light. They were sitting on a bench near the orca show, staring out at the ocean just a few yards away. Mulder wanted to go inside, but Scully tugged on this side of his t-shirt and led them away.
They sat in silence, though it was companionable. Normal.
“I always felt bad for them.” Her gaze was locked upon the blue-green waves just out of their reach.
“The orcas?”
She nodded. “And the dolphins. The seals. Locked away in little pools for our entertainment. Kept from their families, from each other. The more I learned about it, the more wrong it felt.”
“Yet you stayed a whole summer.”
She tilted her head, watching him out of the corner of her eye, and shrugged.
“I have a distinct feeling I am missing some of the story here, Scully. What kept you coming back? A boy?” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Or did they let you feed the seals?”
Leaning her arms across the back of the bench, she looked upwards into the inky sky, stars just beginning to peek out. The sun had brought out her freckles, despite her liberal application of sunscreen. They scattered over her nose and cheeks, over the fair skin above the vee of her shirt. It looked good on her. His arm was beside hers, but they didn’t touch. He wanted to, but it felt wrong. Like it was crossing a line; even though he’d invaded her space the entire six years of their partnership. Even though the small of her back and the soft skin at her wrist felt like home.
He looked at her differently now. After the hallway. After they’d almost–
“I didn’t actually stay here,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.
His eyes traced the movement of her throat as she swallowed. If he couldn’t touch her, he would watch. “Oh?”
“Maybe if we come back, I can show you where I snuck off to, after my mom dropped me off.”
“Scully…” He smiled as she turned to him, a twinkle in her eyes.
The sky turned orange and pink and purple as the sun set over the ocean. Screams of children, the mechanical whirr of rides, and the endless jingle of the concessions surrounded them on all sides. All of that disappeared as he sat next to her, except for the feeling that things were finally getting back to normal. The dizziness from the rollercoaster, from not knowing where things were going between them, fading with the sun.
“Hey Scully, I know I’m a couple days late, but… happy birthday.” He watched her profile, the lights from the midway bouncing off her skin in the dim light. Azure and pink and white, a mesmerizing kaleidoscope. Her eyes shone, facing away from him.
“I thought you forgot,” she said, her voice so quiet he had to lean forward to hear.
“Never, Scully.” He risked a touch, squeezing the pinkie that laid on the bench between them. Curling her finger around his, she gave him a tight smile and stood.
“Thanks, Mulder. For this. I had… I had a good time.” She turned her wrist, checking her watch. “But I think it’s time to go?”
“Aw, ma, do we gotta?”
She laughed, and pulled him up to his feet. On their way out of the park, he dared to press his palm to the small of her back. He felt the shift, or maybe he wished for it. She stared out the window in quiet contemplation as he drove to the airport. Instead of frustration and anger radiating from every pore, every tense muscle, she sat next to him like she always had. Before. And when she glanced at him, her face was soft. Recognizable.
He puffed his cheeks. Allowed himself to breathe.
Though they didn’t talk about anything important, perhaps this afternoon was enough. For now.
(So I have a lot of feelings about that new episode! This is a quick fic I wrote detailing what I think might have happened afterwards! You can feel free to disagree, I just wanted to get out some of my MANY FEELINGS about the episode. You can find this on Ao3 here.)
Summary: Virgil chose to sit this one out. He thought Patton had everything under control. He was wrong.
Warnings: self-deprecation, anger, fighting, crying, anxiety and a borderline panic attack, and serious spoilers for the new Sanders Sides episode (Putting Others First)! Do not read if you have not seen the episode!
Word count: 2135
Virgil was good at being invisible.
He wasn’t actually invisible, of course. None of the sides could camoflauge themselves like that. There were ways to shapeshift into inconspicuous animals, but since there were never any animals in the Mindscape, every animal ended up being conspicuous.
But Virgil was good at being sneaky. He had perfected the art of lurking in the shadows. If he didn’t want anyone to see him, odds were, they wouldn’t see him. Especially if they were distracted. It served him well during his time with the Others—it was often best to stay out of Remus’ way. It served him well when he was still Anxiety, the antagonist—it was often best to stay out of Roman’s way.
(The two of them were more alike than they, or Virgil, wanted to admit.)
Virgil didn’t even mean to be invisible this time around. He was sitting on the common room couch, his headphones in, trying to calm the waves of anxiety he kept feeling. Patton and Roman were with Thomas, working through another issue involving the wedding. Patton promised Virgil he would handle it and things would be fine. Virgil agreed. It would be better to avoid Thomas for a little while, or possibly forever. He may have warmed to him as a friend again, but did he really still want Virgil in charge of his decisions? Virgil doubted it.
A particularly large spike of anxiety hit Virgil and he jolted, trying to remember his breathing. What was going on down there? He knew Roman and Patton had some things to work through about the wedding, but hadn’t they already figured it out? Roman and Patton loved each other, they were closer than brothers. They wouldn’t argue. Right?
You’re close to Patton and you still snapped at him, said a voice in the back of Virgil’s head that sounded suspiciously snakelike.
That was different, Virgil told the voice. Virgil used to be a bad guy. He snapped at everyone. That was just what he did—pushed people away.
Roman was the hero. Roman was the prince. Roman wasn’t perfect, but he was so much better than Virgil could hope to be. Roman wouldn’t let his temper get the better of him. Not when Patton was involved.
Virgil closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to center himself. It wasn’t working. Nervousness clawed a hole in his stomach. Maybe he could just take a peek out there? Thomas wouldn’t even have to notice him. He could just make sure everything was under control.
Everything was! Of course it was. What could possibly happen?
Virgil frowned. Did he just jinx it?
Maybe he should go talk to Logan. He was in his room, right? Thinking up some facts to help Roman and Patton? He’d offered for Virgil to join, but Virgil declined. He wasn’t any good with facts. Now he regretted being left alone in the empty common room. Would Logan think it was weird if he said he changed his mind? Would he be annoyed that Virgil was interrupting his research? Virgil knew Logan always said that Virgil could always come to him for help. But knowing it was different than internalizing it.
Taking a few more breaths, trying to hold them in a 4-7-8 pattern, Virgil finally felt his anxiety, and Thomas’, diminish. There, see? It was under control and he didn’t even have to—
And then it spiked so abruptly that Virgil almost fell off the couch. He curled his knees up to his chest as his vision blurred and his breathing grew raspy. Oh no. Oh no no no no, he was not going to panic, not today, not ever, Thomas needed him, Thomas, Thomas-Thomas-Thomas—
But it wasn’t a panic attack. After a few seconds, Virgil got it under control. Nerves squirmed in his stomach like snakes, but he could breathe. He could see.
He could see Roman appear in the center of the common room, shoulders slumped.
That was weird. Wouldn’t Roman and Patton leave together? Well, maybe Patton stayed behind to offer a few more dad jokes.
“Roman?” Virgil asked, pulling off his headphones.
He regretted it the moment Roman swiveled around to glare at him. He’d never seen Roman that angry—not since…not since he was Anxiety.
Wait, was that what the discussion today was really about? Did they all decide to get rid of Virgil? Did they decide that he wasn’t any good because he used to be bad? Is that why they kept him out of it?
Virgil calmed his racing thoughts. He was jumping to conclusions again. (Thanks, Logan.) The discussion was about the wedding, that was all.
But if it was just about the wedding, why did Roman look like he was about to run Virgil through with his sword?
“Uh, Princey?” Virgil tried for a smirk. “You’re…looking pretty off, there. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Roman growled.
“You sure?” Virgil’s nervousness was replaced by concern. “’Cause you’re acting fishy. Did Patton—”
“Stop asking!” Roman snapped. “I’m fine! Can’t you leave me alone and stop pretending to care?”
“What?” Virgil blinked. “Wh-pretend? Why would—”
“’Cause I get it!” Roman threw up his hands. “I get it now! I understand! You don’t have to torture me, I get it! Nobody likes me, I’m not a hero, you’d all side with the reptilian rapscallion over me, I’m the evil twin and not Remus! I get it!”
“What?” Virgil almost yelled. “What are you talking about?”
Roman glared at him again. “I’m going to my room for an indefinite period of time. Don’t bother coming after me. We both know you don’t want to.”
“I…” Virgil shook his head. Sure, Roman could be insecure sometimes and furious sometimes, but never simultaneously. Never to this extent.
Roman stalked towards the hallway, not giving Virgil another glance. His shoulders were tight and his hands were clenched into fists.
“What happened?” Virgil asked, not really addressing Roman.
Roman didn’t turn around. “Ask Patton’s new best friend.”
Before Virgil could ask what that meant, Roman was gone.
Virgil kicked the blanket off his legs and stood up, headphones in one hand. He was going to Logan’s room. Logan would know what had happened, Logan could fix this—
Then Patton appeared in the commons only two feet from Virgil. Virgil jumped.
“Oh, sorry kiddo! Didn’t mean to startle you!” Patton gave him a smile, but it was brief and watery. “I—did Roman come through here?”
“Yeah?” Virgil examined Patton closely. His hands were fidgeting with his cardigan and his eyebrows were wrinkled with worry. “What’s up, Dad?”
“Nothing,” Patton said quickly. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Patton knew that would only make Virgil more worried. Patton knew that. So why did he say it? He was either extremely distracted, extremely emotional…or hiding something.
A lump rose in Virgil’s throat.
“Look, I have to go check on Ro…” Patton gave Virgil another cursory smile. “I’ll talk to you later, kiddo, okay?”
“Uh, sure?” Virgil said.
“Great!” And Patton was off, running down the hallway.
Virgil shook his head. Clearly, something had gone wrong. Maybe Remus had showed up? That would certainly upset everyone, but not to this extent, they’d learned to roll with his contributions—
Curiosity got the best of him and he crept down the hall after Patton, shoes noiseless. For once, he thanked Roman for the addition of fluffy red carpeting.
“…come out and talk?” Patton was saying to Roman’s door. “We said some things…got out of hand…maybe…”
Patton’s voice dipped and Virgil couldn’t hear any words at all. He was pressing his hand to the white paint of Roman’s door, looking distraught.
But Virgil, and probably the entire Mindscape, heard Roman’s response.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Virgil winced instinctively. Roman’s voice was hoarse and snapped on the third word. He’d been crying, hadn’t he?
Patton only nodded sadly and said one more thing to the closed door before walking back down the hallway to the commons. He was preoccupied enough to not notice Virgil, who quickly scooted around a corner and tucked himself behind the couch, almost out of sight.
Patton started pulling ingredients out of the cupboards. He was making cookies. Virgil almost smiled. Patton always liked to comfort bake, and his cookies were the best. Virgil watched as he hummed to himself, not really smiling, starting to mix ingredients. A few times, he paused to wipe his eyes.
Virgil had almost worked up the courage to offer his help, with the cookies or the feelings, when a door slammed down the hallway.
Virgil froze again. Even through the carpet, he could hear someone’s footsteps stomping down the hall.
Logan entered the common room, eyes narrowed. He spotted Patton and they narrowed even further.
“H-hey, kiddo!” Patton said, not even attempting a smile this time. “How are—”
“Save it.” Logan brushed past him and filled a mug with coffee.
“Oh-okay.” Patton sighed. “Lo…um, thanks for the facts earlier! They were really—”
“Don’t patronize me,” Logan snapped, turning off the coffee maker.
“I’m not! We appreciated your help!” Patton stared at him imploringly. “You know we appreciate you, Logan. Right?”
Logan glanced at Patton. “Be careful, I think he’s rubbing off on you.”
Patton frowned as Logan grabbed his mug and started to exit the commons. “Logan, please, let’s talk about this—”
“There is nothing to talk about. I do not want to talk about it.”
“Logan,” Patton called, “I’m sorry!”
Logan gave Patton one last venomous glare. “There is nothing to be sorry for. If you want to replace me, erase me, go ahead. He can stand in my spot for every episode. I won’t mind.”
“No one’s replacing anyone!”
“Right.”
And Logan was back down the hall, slamming his door again.
Patton sunk into himself as he watched Logan leave, biting his lip and scrubbing at his eyes. Slowly, he turned back to the kitchen counter and began to make cookies again, his hands shaking.
“It didn’t go well?”
Patton didn’t even jump when another figure appeared behind him. “Nope.”
Deceit stood there, resplendent in black and yellow robes, his usual snaky smirk replaced by a concerned expression. Virgil froze behind the couch, and as a result, heard the entire conversation.
“They’ll come around,” Deceit assured him.
Patton nodded. “Right.”
“But they’ll need processing time. This is a large change.” Deceit sighed, and pulled off his gloves. “Can I help?”
“With the cookies?” Patton blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you could cook!”
Deceit smirked. “I’m a master chef. Someone had to cook for Virgil and Remus and—well, everyone.”
“That’s so sweet!” Patton smiled for the first time. “I’d love your help!”
Deceit smiled back and took one of the mixing bowls, pouring some flour. “What kind of cookie? I prefer oatmeal raisin, myself.”
Patton stifled a noise of distaste. “Um…yummy! But I think my kiddos prefer chocolate chip.”
Deceit glanced at him. “Half and half? I think Virgil still has a penchant for oatmeal raisin.”
Deceit smiled back and placed a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. Thank you, too.”
And Virgil’s insides turned to ice.
Janus. Memories bubbled up inside of him, golden and warm and poisonous, sweet on the outside but sour and sickly when he looked too close.
Janus.
What happened in that episode?
Without thinking, Virgil scrambled to his feet. Patton and JanDeceit whirled. “Kiddo?” Patton asked, his voice wavering.
Virgil probably looked like he’d been hit by a car. His eyes were wide and his hands clenched into fists.
“Kiddo?” Patton repeated. “Virge, I can explain—”
And maybe Virgil would have listened. But Deceit gave him a smile, just like the ones he would use back then. Sweet on the outside, sour on the inside, poisonous.
Virgil hissed at him, because words couldn’t express how much he hated Deceit.
Deceit gave him a merry hiss back and returned to making the cookies.
Patton’s cookies. Patton’s cookies.
Virgil found somewhere safe, somewhere Deceit couldn’t get to him, and the moment he turned his back it was whisked away. What had he said? Done? How had he convinced Patton to let him into the kitchen?
Why had he given out his name?
Virgil was shaking now. Patton reached out for him, but he stumbled backwards and down the hall. He couldn’t. Not right now. Not ever. He would watch the video when it posted and figure out what happened. For now, he needed to get far away from that snake face and the person Virgil thought had his back.
Listening to the two of them yammering on down the hall is nearly unbearable, really. Neither of them are saying what they want to and, quite honestly, it’s infuriating. He’s not really sure how Castiel does it on a daily basis. His eyes flick up from the ground when he hears footsteps approaching and he flashes Castiel a grin. “Heya, Cassie. Been a long time, brother.”
Castiel nods once, motioning for Gabriel to enter the room with the hand that isn’t holding a pile of bedding. So not in a chatty mood, then. Well, he can fix that. He pushes the door open, gesturing for Castiel to go inside first.
“So how do you stand them, huh? I mean, I know you can hear them even back here, it’s gotta be annoying. They’re just talking around each other.”
“It’s a Winchester habit.” Castiel says, softly, and wow, that’s new. Castiel had always been firm in his command, never timid and submissive. It’s… interesting, to say the least.
“Yeah, I kinda got that. But isn’t it annoying? Why haven’t you, like, tied them to chairs and made them talk?”
Castiel turns to stare at him with a raised eyebrow. “Why would I do that? They’re adults, if they want to talk, they’ll talk.”
Gabriel snorts, shaking his head and leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Right, because they’re the first family to avoid talking after their dad screwed them over.”
“If you have something to say, then say it.” Castiel hisses, and it catches him a bit off guard. Emotions. It’s such a human thing, and it’s kinda shocking to see good little soldier Cas doing such a human thing.
He raises his eyebrows in surprise, putting his hands up defensively. “Dude, relax, I was just asking. I admit, they’ve cleaned up a lot of messes they shouldn’t have had to.”
Castiel glares at him for a moment more before turning back to the bed. The only sound in the room is the rustling of sheets as Castiel makes the bed and the silence is making him antsy. “Heaven’s shutting down.” Castiel says, suddenly, his voice deceivingly steady.
“Heaven’s… what?”
Castiel pauses and he can practically see the steadying breath the angel takes. “Heaven’s shutting down. There’s less than twenty angels left alive, including us. There aren’t enough angels in Heaven to properly power it, so it’s begun to shut down. And if it does-”
“Every single soul in Heaven falls back to Earth and wreaks havoc before ending up in the veil when a hunter catches up with them. Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair (another human gesture, though this time it’s him that’s picked one up), and Castiel finally turns to face him.
“Yes. I’m afraid there aren’t enough hunters to deal with that magnitude, though. There’s more souls in Heaven than there are on Earth, currently, and even if they aren’t violent right away, they’ll deteriorate into vengeful spirits.”
“So… why don’t you call Dad, then? You guys have seen him, right? He can fix it, bring some angels back or make some more or somethin’.”
Castiel shakes his head and tucks his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunching slightly. It makes him look smaller. “He hasn’t answered. I’ve been praying for weeks, before I even knew about this, but he doesn’t care. The only reason he came back before was because Amara was intent on killing him.”
Gabriel pauses at that, narrowing his eyes. “Did you say Amara? As in, Dad’s sister, the one we locked away oh-so-many millennia ago? Gave the Mark to Cain and all that jazz?”
Castiel nods slowly, clearing his throat. “Dean, he took the Mark on to finish off the final Knight of Hell, Abaddon, before she destroyed the entire planet. He… ultimately succumbed and became a demon. Rowena and Sam were able to remove the Mark but it ultimately released Amara.”
Gabriel laughs harshly, shaking his head. “They stop one apocalypse and bounce right off to the next one. Incredible.”
Castiel glares at him and, despite the fact that the angel is much less powerful than him, he can see the bond between he and Dean and he’s sort of scared of what Castiel will do to protect the older Winchester. “You want to blame the Winchesters for this? They’re the only ones cleaning up these cosmic messes! God certainly couldn’t be bothered, Michael and Lucifer are insane, Raphael was power-hungry, and you disappeared centuries ago. The only people who gave a damn what happened to this world are down the hall.”
He watches Castiel’s grace flare and reach for Dean’s soul with fascination. He’s never seen a bond like this one, and the intensity of it is downright terrifying. He can see the snarl on Cas’s face, his real face, so he holds his hands up defensively. “Look, man, I don’t want to fight. I left because I was tired of cleaning up Dad’s messes, and I’m guessing you are too. So why don’t we just save your family, make sure alt Michael can’t get over here and destroy us, and then we can all live happily ever after.”
Castiel stares at him for a minute before giving him a curt nod and leaving. He stands still for a moment before smirking and snapping his fingers once. He may not have enough mojo to open a portal, but he’s got enough to make those two idiots talk to each other, for real. Besides, the three of them being on the same page will help him avoid his own death when they finally make it to the other world.
· · · ✤ · · ·
“Dean… we’re going to that place, and we’re gonna save Jack and Mom. Together. And… if something happens, we will deal with it. Together.” Sam turns and starts to walk out of the room before pausing and turning back to Dean. “And if we die? We’ll do that together, too.”
Dean shakes his head once Sam’s back is turned, sighing quietly. Right, Sammy. Sure. “No we won’t, Sam.” His eyes widen and he snaps his mouth shut before he can say anything else. That’s definitely not what he wanted to say, no matter how much he’d been thinking it.
Sam turns back to him, his eyebrows raised. “We won’t? Why’s that?”
He swallows, his mind turning over excuses, settling on I just mean we’re not gonna die over there. Except that isn’t what actually comes out of his mouth. “Because I won’t let you die, no matter what. You, Mom, Jack and Cas are coming home, even if it means I don’t.” He slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and startled. Why can’t he say what he wants to, why is he saying what he’s actually feeling? What the hell?
He doesn’t have much time to worry about it, though, because Sam’s walking back to him and he’s pissed. “That’s idiotic, Dean. You can’t just sacrifice yourself for us.”
If it comes down to it, I would. “I’ve been doing it all my life, Sam. I was raised to think that your life was more valuable than mine, I was just a good little soldier. Expendable.” Oh, for fuck’s sake.
He sees the hurt flash across Sam’s face and, while he absolutely hadn’t intended to say those words, it… actually feels kinda nice to have it out there in the open. “Dean, your life isn’t worth less than mine. You’re not expendable.”
This isn’t what I’m trying to say, I don’t know why this is happening. “But if it comes down to it, I’m not going to hesitate. I’ll do whatever it takes to get the four of you home alive.”
“What makes you think we want to come home if you don’t come with us?” Well shit, that’s not Sam’s voice. He turns to see Cas standing in the doorway to the bedrooms. God only knows how long he’s been standing there.
“Because then you’ll be alive. You’ll have Jack back,” he says, turning to Sam, “And you’ll have Mom back. You’ll be happy.”
Sam shakes his head, shock and disbelief written across his face. “Dean, what makes you think we would be happy if you sacrificed yourself for us? How could that possibly make us feel any better?
Because Mom and Jack will be safe, and both of you will be alive. That’s all that matters. “Because all I do is fuck everything up anyway.”
“What?” Sam and Cas ask simultaneously, eyes narrowed in his direction.
“Oh, don’t act like I’m wrong. I jumpstarted the first apocalypse because I was weak and couldn’t hold out in Hell. I left hunting after you died and Cas didn’t have anyone to turn to when the angels went nuclear, so that one’s my fault. I let Amara out because I couldn’t deal with the Mark. It’s my fault Mom’s trapped over there, because I couldn’t deal with-” He cuts himself off quickly with a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. Way too close for comfort, he’d almost admitted how hard Cas’s death had been on him this time around.
“You’re an idiot.” Castiel says angrily, his glare fixed on Dean. “None of that is your fault, Dean. If it wasn’t you, some other righteous man would’ve broken the seal. I made my choices. I could’ve gone to you and asked for help, but I didn’t. That’s not on you.”
“I let Amara out. I was the one who found the spell. You had a solution that would’ve kept her locked away, but I… I couldn’t deal with it.” Sam says gently, frowning.
“You don’t fuck anything up, Dean. We want you here. I want you here. I-” Castiel cuts himself off and he sees the angel’s eyes widen before he turns and stalks back down the hallway he came from. Weird. Though it’s still not the weirdest thing about this entire exchange.
“Look, Sam…” I don’t want to sacrifice myself. I want to be here with you. But if it saves your lives, I’ll do it. “I don’t want to die. I thought I was ready, I thought I’d go down hunting, that I’d die alone, but… I don’t want that. So let’s figure out what we’re going to do when we get there so we can avoid anyone dying.”
· · · ✤ · · ·
He barely hears the door creak open before he’s being spun around and shoved against the wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Castiel’s got two fistfuls of his shirt and his glaring at him with all the hatred he can possibly muster. He still kinda looks like an angry kitten though. “Remove it, Gabriel. Now.”
Gabriel raises his eyebrows, holding back a smirk. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, brother of mine. I haven’t done anything.”
“You’re compelling them to say what they feel rather than what they’re trying to say. Stop it.”
“You sure caught on quick, Cassie. Why would I want to remove it? If I’m gonna put my life on the line for their mission, I want them on the same page.”
“That’s not your decision to make, you spineless coward. Remove the compulsion.”
Gabriel’s eyes go dark and he glares right back. “Sure you don’t want to go back out there? Might be the only chance you have of hearing Dean say that he loves you.” He’s barely got the sentence out before Castiel’s grace is flaring and he’s being shoved entirely through the wall, sprawling on the floor of the bedroom next door. Castiel’s on him in a second, his hand twitching toward his angel blade. Luckily for Gabriel, the sound of the wall collapsing is enough to attract the Winchesters. Dean pulls Cas off him and Sam helps him up, glancing between him and Cas.
“What the hell is going on here?” Sam asks, eyes narrowed.
“Gabriel’s placed you under compulsion. He’s forcing you to say what you actually feel.” Castiel says harshly, causing Dean to tighten the arm around him.
Sam glances at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “That explains a lot.”
Dean doesn’t say anything, but Castiel can feel the embarrassment radiating from his soul. Slowly, he loosens his arm around Castiel once he’s sure the angel’s done attacking Gabriel. “Why’d you shove him through the wall?”
Gabriel smirks as Castiel glares at him, avoiding Dean’s question. “What’s the matter, Cassie? Cat got your tongue? Go on, clue them in.” Castiel doesn’t budge, so he pulls at the little grace he has left, snapping his fingers.
Cas tries to resist, he really does, but he’s no match for an archangel. Even one as low-powered as he is right now. “I told him to remove the compulsion but he refused. I called him a coward and he told me I should return to you because it might be the only chance I have to hear you say that you love me.”
He watches Sam squint at the angel and shake his head. “Cas, of course we love you. You’re our family.”
Gabriel shakes his head in disbelief, glancing at Dean and Castiel before turning to Sam. “My Dad, you really are thick-headed, aren’t you? You weren’t part of the equation, Sam.”
It takes a minute, but realization finally dawns on Sam’s face as he turns to look at Dean and Castiel, who are very pointedly ignoring eye contact. Gabriel rolls his eyes, waving his hand to remove the compulsion. “If I’m gonna risk my life over there for you three idiots, you need to have a nice, long chat about where your priorities lie. I just got my freedom back, I’m not going to lose it because you can’t deal with your shit.”
With that, he stalks past them and towards the entrance to the bunker, brushing dust off himself as he goes. He needs to get outside and spread his wings. Maybe try to convince God to get of his lazy ass and help them, for once. The bunker’s door clicks shut behind him as he tilts his head toward the sun and closes his eyes, unfurling his wings and sending a desperate plea in God’s direction.
The look Magnus fixed him with was wholly different from every look he'd ever been given before. Those haunting eyes lazily drifted to meet his own, a disturbing stillness lurking behind their beautiful glow. They seemed brighter despite their cold, more beckoning despite the way they took their time dissecting, studying, stripping him. Alec gave a not-entirely-insincere shudder, struggling to remember his anger, utterly failing to keep his heart steady before so perfect a figure as the one before him now.
It's okay. I don't care. Let's just go home and forget this ever happened. Please, just take me home.
