#promo previews

[deancaspinefest]

angel wing grooming 101

Author: mistyfeathers | Artist: blueyesblueties

Posting on Friday March 20

When Dean accidentally gets his first look at Cas’s true form, he freaks out. After that, he also notices a couple things: Cas’s wings look like they need some serious TLC, and his eyes are almost all the same shade of red. Cas never thought Dean would see his angel form. He never thought Dean would see how disheveled his wings were, and more importantly, he never thought Dean would see his true eyes. The red signifies love for a human, and Dean can’t know about that. But when Dean offers to groom Cas’s wings, Cas can’t help but let him, even if it means letting Dean see his true form again. As Dean takes care of Cas’s wings, it becomes harder and harder for them both to hide how they feel about each other.

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Dean heard the door creak open behind him, and he turned around to see who it was. It wasn’t a who. It was a what. A terrifyingly incomprehensible what. Hundreds of eyes, all in different shades, though by far the most numerous were the ones whose pupils were a deep, unnatural red. The eyes spun along wheels of fire that burned in impossible colors — blue and green and pink, right along with your standard orange and yellow. In the center was a pulsing blue-white light so strong that looking at it felt like Dean was staring into the sun, even though it was partially obscured by four faces somehow fused together at the sides. On the outside were a lion and some kind of bird, but the middle faces weren’t anything Dean could so easily identify. One of them was something that could almost-but-not-quite pass for human, and one was just made up of more eyes, blinking at him in an irregular rhythm. And as if all that wasn’t freaky enough, it also had six black, feathered wings. One set at the top, one at the bottom, and one at about where shoulder height would be if this thing was even vaguely human-looking. The wings on the top and bottom were smaller, each one maybe around three feet long, but the middle ones were double that. There were huge patches on all of them where the feathers looked to have burned away somehow, in some places so badly that Dean could see white bone. Almost automatically, Dean grabbed the gun from his waistband and pointed it at the thing, even though it definitely wouldn’t do much. “What are you?” The face made up of eyes rotated slightly, like it was confused. “What?” the thing asked. Its voice was oddly human-sounding, but definitely skewed towards “human that’s been gargling gravel.” “I said, what are you?” Dean demanded, voice sharp. Instead of answering, the thing moved closer. Dean instinctively took a step back. “Dean, are you alright?” What the hell? This thing had somehow gotten into the bunker without anyone noticing and now it wanted to know if Dean was alright?

[continue reading on Ao3 on Friday March 20]

[deancaspinefest]

The Better Part of Valour

Author: andimeantittosting | Artist: szlez

Posting on Wednesday March 25

Castiel summons the Empty, but it doesn't take him. Instead, the Empty strips him of his grace, leaving him alive but human, and leaving Dean and Cas to face the aftermath of the things they both said in that dungeon.

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There are tears in Cas's eyes. "I love you." It's everything Dean's ever wanted to hear, but not here, not now, not like this. "Don't do this, Cas," he pleads. "Goodbye, Dean." Cas's shove sends him sprawling to the concrete floor, and Dean can only watch in horror as the wall explodes in black, tar-like goop, engulfing Cas in it's oil-slick embrace — Billie too, who has just broken through the door, but Dean barely notices, eyes locked on Cas's beaming, tear-streaked face as the Empty creeps across it. "Me too," he wants to say, wants to at least give Cas that, but he can't make his mouth move. The black goo swallows Cas and then lights up like a beacon, the blinding blue-white light of Cas's grace illuminating the storeroom dungeon with the intensity of a small sun. Still, Dean doesn't — can't — look away. He owes Cas that much, a silent witness to his last moments on earth. When the light retreats at last, Dean has to blink rapidly to clear his vision. He lurches forward before he can fully see, expecting to find the print of charred wings across the brick and concrete. Instead, a figure stands there, swaying on it's feet. Before Dean can react, Cas — because it is Cas — collapses, going down in a heap like a marionette with cut strings, landing with a heavy thud. "Cas!" Dean scrambles forward now, going down on his knees before Cas's sprawled form, one hand grasping instinctively at his shoulder and one cupping a roughly-stubbled cheek. "Cas, are you in there?" To Dean's relief, those familiar, beloved blue eyes flutter open a crack, squinting even against the dim light of the bunker's basement. "Dean?" Cas groans. His brow furrows. "Hey," Dean breathes, something loosening in his chest. "There you are." He attempts a shaky smile. Cas doesn't return it. He closes his eyes again instead, wincing almost imperceptibly as he does. "Yes, it does seem that I'm… here." Dean's too attuned to him to not notice the wince, or the laboured breathing. "You okay? All in one piece?" He's already sliding his hands over Cas's arm and chest, checking for injuries. Cas catches the hand on his chest by the wrist, his grip weak, far weaker than an angel's should be. Dean stops anyway, his palm resting over the thrum of Cas's heart. It's racing. "That was some speech you made," Dean jokes feebly, not knowing quite what to say, but desperate to say something, to acknowledge his feelings in kind. "You know I'm not one for words, and all, but, uh, I guess I owe you a ring, huh?" He tries to smile at Cas and ignore his alarm at the sickly pallor that has swept over him. He hadn't meant to jump straight to marriage, but here he is. Though, in hindsight, as proposals go, Dean could've chosen a better moment. Or maybe, he realizes with a lurch, no moment would be good, and he's misjudged the sutuation entirely. Far from looking like a man in love, Cas just looks horrified. He breathes out a low, but surprisingly firm rejection, "Dean, no," before promptly passing out.

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Wednesday March 25]

[deancaspinefest]

so you say you want a deathbed scene

Author: goldandtherust | Artist: onowey

Posting on Saturday March 28

A car passes by, headlights washing out the parking lot. Dean wonders what they make of the two of them, a pair of grown men lying unmoving halfway off the sidewalk like roadkill. Not-Cas looks sideways at him, and offers the cigarette. Dean shakes his head. “Suit yourself,” not-Cas tells him, and takes another puff. It’s quiet. Dean wants to say something but not-Cas beats him to the punch. “What did it feel like?” he asks. “When your Cas died?” -- Months after Chuck's defeat, Sam and Dean stumble upon the case of a cursed wishing well. What comes back isn't exactly what Dean wished for but, sometimes, the ends justify the means. 

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Cas—not-Cas—stares at him, then at Sam, then at him again. He never lowers the gun. “Where am I?”

“Look, you know me,” Dean says slowly, eyeing it. Unfocused, behind the barrel, Cas’s face lingers in the back of Dean’s vision. Wet black hair plastered to his forehead, clothes sticking to thin arms, his wide fingers resting on the trigger. Part of him wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation, and because he doesn’t know what the hell else to do. “Twenty-fourteen, right? The Apocalypse? I got sent forward in time from oh-nine? You remember that, right?”

Not-Cas moves away jerkily, stumbling off the curb into the dark parking lot. His body is coiled and tense, still puffed out like he’s trying to appear bigger than he is. “Where am I?” he asks again, voice harder and more suspicious. “When am I?”

“Twenty-twenty-one,” Dean tells him carefully. “Fort Wayne. Lucifer’s dead. You’re safe.”

Not-Cas’s eyes shift over to him, brilliant blue in the motel lights. Slowly, he lowers the gun, tucking it back in its holster. “You let Michael in,” he says slowly.

Dean takes a deep breath, dropping his hands back to his sides and glancing over his shoulder at Sam. “It’s complicated. Probably not what you think—”

Sam interrupts him. “Do you guys know each other?”

“Twenty-twenty-one?” Not-Cas repeats, not paying him any mind.

Dean nods. “Yeah,” he says, and there’s a lump in his throat that swells and pulses each time he thinks about how this version of Cas doesn’t live long enough to see it. “World’s intact.”

“How?” He crosses his arms, shivering a little in his rainsoaked clothes.

Dean frowns. “Look, it’s a long story. Come inside and I’ll catch you up, okay? Hell, you probably won’t believe half of it.”

“Why am I here?” Not-Cas asks, eyeing the inside of the hotel room warily. He doesn’t move. “This magic didn’t come from our side, so what did you do?”

[continue reading on Ao3 on Saturday March 28]

[deancaspinefest]

Notorious

Author: FriendofCarlotta | Artist: seidenapfel

Posting on Sunday March 15

Miami, 1946: Castiel is the son of Charles Novak, a rich industrialist recently convicted of being a Nazi collaborator. In the wake of his father’s sentencing, Castiel numbs himself with alcohol and pills, feeling lonely and adrift. Enter Dean Winchester, a government agent who’s been tasked with recruiting Castiel as an asset. Dean’s bosses believe that Castiel’s knowledge of his father’s social circle will be crucial in taking down his remaining allies. Castiel agrees to Dean’s offer, but things become complicated fast when the two of them fall for each other.

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Novak makes the sort of comically offended grimace only available to the very drunk. “Don’t call me Mr. Novak. That’s my father’s name.” “Castiel, then,” Dean agrees readily, raising his glass in a small toast before setting it down on the small table beside him. It’s more of a struggle than it should be, as that table is already covered in empties. Idly, he wonders if Castiel has someone come in to clean for him. Or if he did. The Novak assets will be frozen now that Charles Novak has been convicted, so tonight marks the beginning of leaner times for Castiel. It’s a good enough reason to get drunk, though everything Dean has heard about Castiel suggests that being drunk or hopped up on pills is something of a default state for him. “Hmm,” Castiel says, in vague agreement, his eyes fixed on Dean’s abandoned drink. He picks it up and drains it in a single swallow. “Shame to waste that.” Dean leans forward, hands folded between his legs as he studies Castiel’s flushed, glassy-eyed face. “How’d you know I wasn’t going to drink that?” “Because we’re going out,” Castiel declares, staggering out of his chair and onto his feet. “We are?” Dean asks, amused. He allows some of that amusement to bleed through in a twist of his lips. “Yes.” Castiel sways on the spot, but his nod is firm. “It’s too stuffy in here. We’re going out for a drive.” Dean’s chuckle in response to that declaration is perfectly genuine. “A drive? It’s…” He shakes back the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch. “Two in the morning.” “My car is just outside. We can take that,” Castiel says, triumphant, as if the main objection Dean had raised was about the lack of available transportation. Dean catches himself having the stray thought that Castiel is a very charming drunk, then tells himself it’s simply a professional observation about his mark. “On one condition,” Dean says. “I’ll drive. I’m by far the more sober one between the two of us.” Castiel sways forward into Dean’s space. It’s likely he would have simply slumped against Dean’s chest if not for Dean’s quick thinking in wrapping a hand around his arm to steady him. Novak smiles at him, slyly amused. “What makes you think I’ll let you?”

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Sunday March 15]

[deancaspinefest]

Leave a Light On

Author: chaoticdean | Artist: saudade

Posting on Monday March 16

Philadelphia, 2020. Dean Winchester has been working as a detective for the PPD for years, and he’s tired. Bone-tired, burnt out and carrying the weight of an alcohol issue he refuses to acknowledge. He’s also a husband, and a father to three kids, even though lately he’s been forgetting that part. Castiel Novak has been an attorney for the better part of the last decade, and Dean’s husband for 15 years. And he’s also tired—tired of having to hold the weight of his family on his own, and tired of having to fight so that his marriage doesn’t crumble. It all comes to a head when Marla Ashford’s case explodes. Ashford is one of the candidates of the next mayoral campaign, and when her deputy fundraiser is killed, she asks for Cas by name to defend her. Unfortunately, Dean also happens to be the lead-detective on the case… And neither of them plans on letting go. Between arguments, kids being way too perceptive for their age, and Dean’s issues with alcohol, what could go wrong? This is a story about a family fighting to stay whole while the world explodes around them; but it’s also a high-stakes domestic drama and legal thriller rolled into one. One where Dean’s fight with alcohol becomes the center of everything, and both Dean and Cas could lose everything. Can they make it to the end of the line together? Titled after “Leave a Light On” by Tom Walker (x)

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

The house wakes before Dean does. It usually does. After more than fifteen years together, Cas has their mornings down to a science, and the kids follow their own rhythms.

Dean used to fall right into the chaos with them. Lately, he drags behind it.

He pushes himself upright in bed and waits for the pounding in his skull to settle—it doesn’t. With how hard he drank last night, and how late he came home, it’s not really surprising.

Dean rubs his face with both hands and breathes out slowly before getting up. Cas’ side of the bed is empty. Warm, but empty. He must have gotten up a while ago, like he always does.

Dean finds him in the kitchen of their rowhome just outside Manayunk, standing at the stove with his sleeves rolled up, stirring eggs with one hand while answering an email on his phone with the other. Cas is in his late thirties but sometimes he looks older in the mornings, worn down by responsibility and lack of sleep. The small silver streak at his temple glints in the overhead light; Dean used to tease him about it. Now he only watches.

He’s beautiful, Dean thinks but doesn’t allow himself to say out loud. He’s beautiful, and he’s mine, and I’m ruining everything.

“Morning,” he says instead, voice rough.

Cas glances over. His eyes soften for a moment, then flick to Dean’s posture, to the way he grips the counter. A quiet worry settles in his expression. He hides it quickly, but Dean still sees it. Almost 15 years together, and he can still read him like a book.

“Morning,” Cas says. “Coffee’s ready.”

Dean pours a mug and tries not to think about how badly he wants something stronger.

Behind him, the kids fill the space like they always do. Ben sits at the table with a textbook open next to his breakfast, already dressed for school. He’s sixteen and looks more like Dean every year, though he inherited Lisa’s sharp sarcasm and her ability to hold a grudge. He gives Dean a small nod instead of a greeting.

At least that’s more than yesterday.

Claire is nearly fifteen, and halfway through telling a story about a girl in her class who wore sunglasses inside all day. She talks fast, hands flying, and doesn’t pause long enough for anyone to interrupt. She came to them when she was six. They fostered her first, then adopted her. She has Dean’s stubborn streak and Cas’ intensity. She also has a sense for tension and she keeps glancing at her dads between sentences.

Jack, at six, sits beside her with a piece of toast and a coloring book. He hums a little tune while he works. He’s the baby, even though he hates being called that. Dean and Cas adopted him when he was still learning to walk. Now he moves through the house with a quiet confidence, like he trusts it will always be home.

Dean used to feel that way, too, what feels like forever ago.

He leans against the counter and watches the scene unfold. Cas fills lunchboxes, Claire argues with Ben about who gets the last blueberry muffin, Jack asks Dean how to spell “astronaut,” and Dean answers after a pause that’s just barely too long.

Cas notices the pause. He notices everything, Dean knows. 15 years together and all that.

[continue reading on Ao3 on Monday March 16]

[deancaspinefest]

Effigy

Author: imogenbynight | Artist: saudade 

Posting on Thursday March 26

Drowning in grief after losing Cas to the Empty, a hunt leads Dean to a well-meaning but reckless young witch who has created an ‘umboð’ — a supernaturally animated effigy that takes on the form and memories of a person who has recently passed. Though he and Sam convince the witch to nullify the spell that she’s woven, Dean finds himself weak against the temptation of using the same magic to see Cas one last time.  But when the umboð he creates takes its first breath, opening familiar blue eyes that lock with Dean’s just as earnestly as those he’s missed, Dean can’t bring himself to end it after just one conversation. Meanwhile, newly rescued from the Empty, Castiel works to rebuild the afterlife with Jack. But the work of divine creation is draining him in ways he did not expect, and leaving him to question whether he made the right choice in returning to Heaven despite his heart pulling him back to Earth.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Leaving the Empty feels like squeezing himself through a quarter-inch pipe. Unbearable pressure on all sides. Crushing. Suffocating.

And then—

Light.

At first, it’s just another void. A glowing, white version of the same place they’d been in before, endless and still. But then Castiel’s many eyes adjust, and he sees it for what it is.

They’re not in Heaven. They’re just outside, suspended in the veil that separates it from Earth and eases the transition of newly untethered souls from one plane to another.

It’s not a physical space, and contrary to the beliefs of some on Earth there is no particular gate between here and Heaven, but that’s only because the gate is everywhere. Once a soul is ready, the veil parts around them like a gossamer curtain, and they find themselves in whichever version of paradise has been awaiting them.

For many, it’s always been some deeply treasured memory, but just as often, it’s rest.

Castiel is surprised that Jack has brought him here instead of directly into the heart of Heaven. Jack notices. Or perhaps he just knows, now that he’s God.

Perhaps Castiel will never again have a thought that isn’t overheard by this boy he’s tried so hard to raise.

“I thought you might want to visit Sam and Dean first,” Jack explains. “Before we begin.”

Something swoops in Castiel’s chest at the suggestion, but he shakes his head, the memory of Jack’s words to the Winchesters fresh in his mind.

“You told them you wouldn’t interfere.”

“It’s not really interfering to bring you back to Earth,” Jack argues.

Castiel raises his brow.

“Bringing me back from the dead—”

“You weren’t even dead, though! You were just… away for a while. It’s basically the same as if you were stuck on an island and I sent you a boat.”

“That is definitionally interfering,” Castiel tells him.

“Well. Maybe. But I still think it’s okay,” Jack says, then squints. Tilts his head to the side. Castiel feels like he’s looking into a mirror. “Wait. Do you not want to go back?”

“That’s… complicated.”

It’s not really. It’s difficult, yes, but it’s not complicated. It’s actually incredibly simple: Castiel suspects that the manner of his leaving may have hurt Dean too profoundly for a mere visit to do anything but cause him more pain.

If he were returning for good, he might feel otherwise. If he were returning for good, he could perhaps see a chance of repairing some of the damage he’s done.

But to return only to leave again?

No. That would be selfish. Cruel. As much as he wishes things were different, it’s better if he stays in Heaven where he can’t do any more harm. It has to be.

And if he stays in Heaven, he’ll still see Dean again. Eventually. It’ll just be a long, long time from now, when Dean’s had time to move past what Castiel told him. When he’s had time to understand it. When he’s found someone to love. When he’s lived out the rest of his years happy and fulfilled.

Then, Castiel will be waiting to greet him in the afterlife, and enough years will have passed that Dean’s pain will have faded. A bruise long-healed.

The distance of all the years between them will soften the edges of their last parting, and he’ll meet Castiel as an old friend. A brother in arms.

Castiel can live with that.

He doesn’t think he can live with less.

[continue reading on Ao3 on Thursday March 26]

[deancaspinefest]

Sleeping Hunger

Author: MatchaMilkshake | Artist: imogenbynight

Posting on Tuesday March 17

Dean left the horseman’s rings in the trunk of the impala after Sam sacrificed himself to stop Lucifer. After everyone he loved left him all at once, it was easy to forget he left them there. Several years later, he gets a harsh reminder that he should really take better care of the extremely powerful artifacts he's left lying around. Now, Cas is cursed with famine and since Jimmy left, his hunger is beginning to drive him mad. He just hopes they can get them all back before he does something he regrets. Dean is just happy that Cas is sticking around more than he usually does.

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“You’re really just a coward, aren’t you?” Dean threw his hands up in the air. “You’re willing to face Lucifer, freaking Lucifer and everything that went with that bullshit, but you can’t tell me you think I’m pretty?” “That’s not fair,” Cas finally argued back. “Everything I do is to protect you. The things I've done have been for you.” “Because you think I'm pretty.” “No! I mean, yes! But that’s not– " “You got cursed with a case of the butterflies?” “No-I don’t– ugh! Dean!” To Cas’ humiliation, Dean started laughing. Actually, laughing. Not just one of those short little laughs he does to humor people, but a full belly laugh that lit up his face and made him clutch his side. “Oh my god you think I’m hot! You!” “Dean!” “You!?” “DEAN!” Dean kept laughing like it was the most hilarious thing in the world while Cas' face turned redder and redder. 

[continue reading on Ao3 on Tuesday March 17]

[deancaspinefest]

a long way to go

Author: stayawake | Artist: TwinOne

Posting on Tuesday March 24

When Cas first learned that his estranged brother knocked someone up, he never thought that he would one day be tasked with raising the child. Ten years and a series of unfortunate events later, Cas is barely holding it together as he tries his best to take care of Jack. His nephew’s resistance to Cas’s guardianship only makes the transition that much more difficult. At least Cas has a support system in his nextdoor neighbor, Dean.

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The first time Cas sees Jack smile is when a dog shows up in their yard. Cas follows him outside where Jack doesn’t hesitate to drop himself in the grass and start petting the dog. The dog seems pretty calm at least, happy to receive pets from a strange child. “Can we keep him?” Jack asks. “Jack…” “Grandma and Grandpa never let me get a dog.” Cas sighs, sitting himself down beside Jack. He spots a collar on the dog and reaches for the tags. “Looks like she already belongs to someone,” Cas says. “Her name is Miracle. I’ll call the owner. You keep an eye on her.” Jack huffs, but continues petting the dog. Just as Cas pulls out his phone, he sees their nextdoor neighbor crossing into their yard. “Hey,” the guy says. “Looks like you found my dog.” “Oh,” Cas says, picking himself up from the ground. “She’s yours.” “Yeah, she’s a little escape artist sometimes. Sorry about that.” “No worries,” Cas says. “I’m Castiel.” “Nice to meet you, Castiel. I’m Dean.” They shake hands and it takes Cas a moment to remember to include Jack, even though the boy isn’t paying them any attention. “This is my nephew, Jack,” Cas says. “We just moved in about a month ago.” “Hey, Jack,” Dean smiles. “Hello,” Jack mumbles, keeping his eyes low and his hand in Miracle’s fur. “Hope you guys are enjoying the neighborhood so far,” Dean says. “I would have come over to introduce myself, but I’ve been out of town the past couple of months.” “Do you travel often?” “Now and again. Mostly for work.” “I remember those days,” Cas smiles. “I became an expert at packing a suitcase.” “Yeah? What’s your secret?” “Packing cubes are a man’s best friend.” Dean laughs. “I think Miracle might get jealous if I bestow that title on an inanimate object.” “She would understand. She seems very chill.” “Best dog in the world,” Dean says. “My brother and I were cleaning out one of our uncle’s cabins and we found her there. No clue how she landed herself in a cabin in the middle of the woods, but she didn’t have a microchip so now she’s my roommate.” “Doesn’t seem like a very good roommate. I bet she doesn’t pay rent.” “Yeah, and she makes me buy all her food. Can you believe that?” “My roommate is the same,” Cas says. “I’m your nephew,” Jack says, frowning up at him. Cas immediately feels like shit, even if it was just a joke. “I know, Jack. I’m just kidding.”

[continue reading on Ao3 on Tuesday March 24]