burn this into your brains forever
10k of deancas with Garth fake dating nonsense, based on this incredible art by @lemon-wedges
“Bess’s cousin has gone missing,” Garth begins, glancing dolefully from Sam to Cas, then to Dean, “and in order to find him, I’m gonna need one of you to be my husband.”
After a night spent chugging coffee and hauling ass across the country, spurred on by one SOS 911 PLEASE COME ASAP I NEED HELP!!! text dragging them to the hellscape known as Wisconsin, Dean’s barely-alert mind figures that even if he tried, Garth couldn’t make any less sense.
“What?” Sam asks flatly, at the same time Dean says the same, but louder. Cas doesn’t react at all, save for a slightly more squinty squint.
“Bess’s cousin,” Garth repeats. “He went to a couple’s retreat about a week ago with his new girlfriend, and we haven’t heard from him since.”
“And you need us because…?” Dean raises plaintive eyebrows, to which Sam slaps his arm, mouth moued and disapproving.
“I need to go undercover to find him, and I need one of you to help!” Garth’s eyes grow glassy, brimming with unshed tears. “His phone must be dead because he isn’t answering our calls. Bess has been worried sick, up all night crying. It makes me ache to see her hurting so.”
Sam gives a sympathetic look. “If it’s a couples retreat, why can’t you and Bess just check it out yourselves?”
“Well, the retreat’s for supernatural couples looking to rekindle with their human partners. Her cousin’s girlfriend is human,” Garth adds, as if it weren’t obvious. “He was trying to get her comfortable with his lycanthropy.”
“And you don’t have any other human friends?” Dean asks, impassive.
Garth turns his best puppy-dog eyes onto Dean, which amount to little more than a knock-off copy of Sam’s patented gaze, shoddily reproduced by some underground market with only a vague inkling of its true power. Dean stares back, undeterred, except for the old programming in his brain that flips a faulty switch, kicking on a knee-jerk instinct and screaming, Sammy’s unhappy! Unhappy!!
Sighing loudly, Dean grumbles, “Who’re thinking could help?”
Garth’s expression wipes clean of all unhappiness, and he giggles, much to Dean’s dismay. “Of course you, silly! I mean, no offense, Sam,” he adds, glancing over dismissively, “but no one would ever believe a guy like me ended up with you. Dean and I just have too much chemistry.”
“Um, thanks?” Sam says, at the same time Cas says, “What.”
Dean shakes his head, arms crossing an emphatic arc through the air. “No way. Uh-uh. Count me out.”
Garth puffs out his cheeks. “Alright then, I guess I’ll settle for Cas.”
Cas blinks, and before he’s had a chance to even process it, Dean loudly blurts out, “No.”
Sam stares at him. Cas furrows his brow, his head tilted.
Dean clears his throat, glancing around the room. “I mean no, uh. That won’t work. He’s, uh—he’s not human. It won’t count.”
Garth throws his hands up in the air and proclaims, “Well, it’s gotta be one of you,” which is how Dean ends up volunteering for this stupid goddamn mission.
Curse Garth and the horse he rode in on. This was going to be the worst weekend of Dean’s life.
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