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“So what are we fighting today?” Dean asked, plopping down on the hard motel bed. He and Sam were in yet another small town in… Illinois? Indiana? In Dean’s mind, they all ran together.
“We’re not fighting anything yet, Dean.” Sam looked up from his precious laptop. “Two successful murders in the past week and one attempted.”
“And the detail that brought us here…” Dean asked, knowing Sam too well.
“The survivor was interviewed. Madeline Jones, 43 years old. Said her husband attacked her with a kitchen knife.” Sam looked at Dean over the top of the computer. “Her husband who was killed by a drunk driver two years ago.”
“So it’s a standard haunting,” Dean said. “What do you think he wants? Find anything on that?”
“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Nathan Jones, mechanic. Married Madeline 20 years ago, 2 kids. No criminal record, nothing in the papers about him. Seems like an ordinary guy.”
“Yeah, well they all do,” Dean said, standing up. “Until you dig deeper. What’d you say we pay Mrs. Jones a visit?”
Dean pulled the Impala to a stop in front of an average-looking white house, in a neighborhood full of average houses. There was a front porch with two comfy chairs and an assortment of shoes, sports gear, and toys.
“What are we today?” he asked Sam. “Detectives, reporters, FBI?”
“It’s a small enough town,” Sam said. “I say we stick with detectives.”
As they approached the house, Dean noticed that it looked a bit more ramshackle than he had noticed from the street. The paint was chipped, and one of the window hinges was falling off. Walking toward the porch, he almost tripped over a loose stone. Luckily he caught himself, but Sam smirked at him and stifled a laugh.
“Bitch, “ Dean muttered.
“Jerk,” Sam shot back. He knocked on the door before Dean could say anything else.
A girl who looked to be 13 or 14 answered. She had wild curly black hair that framed her nut brown skin and biggest brown eyes Dean had ever seen. She glared up at them. “What do you want?” she asked rudely.
“We’re detectives,” Sam said, holding out his badge. “We’re here to talk to Madeline Jones about-”
“Sorry, no Madeline Jones here,” the girl said. She tried to shut the door, but Dean stuck his foot out and jammed it open.
“Listen, kid, can we talk to your mom?” he asked. She crossed her arms and continued to glare.
A woman’s voice called out from inside the house. “Alaina, honey, who’s at the door?”
“No one,” Alaina said, trying and failing to shove Dean’s foot out of the way. A woman who looked like an older version of Alaina appeared in the doorway behind her. Her eyes were red and puffy and she looked awful, but she saw Sam’s badge and put on a smile.
“Detectives!” she said, her grin not reaching her eyes. “Come on in.” Sam stepped inside and Dean followed. Alaina discreetly tried to trip him.
The inside of the house looked as ordinary as the outside, but, also like the outside, it was shabby when you looked closer. The furniture was mismatched, the table wobbled, and there were cracks in the floor.
“You can sit on the couch here,” Mrs. Jones said, clearing away a stack of papers. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“No thank you ma’am,” Sam said. “We’d just like to ask you a few questions about your recent...attack.” Mrs. Jones settled down on a chair across from them, and Dean caught sight of Alaina lurking in the doorway.
“So this happened two days ago?” Sam asked gently.
Mrs. Jones nodded. “It was about 9 o’clock at night. I was just doing the dishes in the kitchen when I felt a chill. I saw the door was cracked open, so I went to close it. Suddenly a figure came out of the darkness with a knife. It..” she choked on the words. “It was Nate.”
“And your husband died two years ago?” Dean asked. Alaina tensed in the doorway.
“Yes,” Mrs. Jones said, dabbing at her eyes. “He was… he was in a car accident.”
“Mrs. Jones, have you had any unusual phenomena in the house? Cold spots, things breaking, any of that?”
She looked confused. “N-no.”
“And where is your husband buried?” The question was innocent enough, but she burst into tears.
Alaina stormed angrily into the room. “I think it’s time you leave,” she said, and they didn’t complain. As the girl ushered them out, Sam turned to her one last time.
“If I may ask, why did that question upset your mom so much?”
Alaina’s face was hard, and she showed no emotion when she said “My dad’s car was smashed into bits, and his body mangled beyond recognition. There wasn’t enough left of him to bury. We had him cremated.”
“Thank you,” Sam said softly, and she slammed the door in their faces.
“Well, what do you think? Pieces of him… on the road? In the car?” Dean asked once they were in the car.
“Geez, Dean, don’t put it lightly,” Sam said.
“I’m just doing the job.” Dean pulled into the parking lot of a diner. “Now, I’m hungry. What’d you say we get some lunch?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re always hungry,” he protested, but followed Dean inside nonetheless.
They had just sat down and ordered their drinks when suddenly there were police sirens outside. Two police cars raced down the main street of the tiny town.
“Bet it’s another one of those murders,” a man said, shaking his head sadly. “I hope they catch ‘em this time.” Sam and Dean made eye contact, then jumped up in unison and ran to the Impala. Quickly, they slid into their seats and Dean started the car. He was just pulling out when-
“Hello, boys,” A voice from the backseat said. Dean slammed the breaks and the car jerked to a stop. He let out a breath and rested his head on the steering wheel.
“You just do that on purpose now, don’t you?” Sam asked.
Cas made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel in the rearview mirror and shook his head. “Anyway, why are you here? Is something wrong?”
Cas looked hurt. “Do you not like it when I visit? Because I can leave-”
“No, Cas,” Sam said at the same time Dean shouted “No!” Sam and Cas both gave him a weird look.
Dean ignored them. “C’mon, the police are getting away,” he said, then chuckled at the irony of the fact that they were following the police, instead of the other way around.
They followed the sirens to a house in the same neighborhood as the Jones’s house. Dean parked the car a little ways away, and they entered the scene to see what they could find. Police were swarming the house. Sam beckoned the other two over to where a young man was standing, shaking.
“This… this isn’t like her!” He stammered. “She was the nicest person I know, and...and…” he sobbed to the police officer.
“Who?” The officer asked.
“My...my old girlfriend, Layla. We broke up like three years ago when she moved to New York City. She attacked me, but I don’t believe it. I,” he sobbed again. “I loved her.”
Dean and Cas exchanged looks as they all walked back to the car. “So,” Dean said, leaning against the Impala. “Some kind of shapeshifter, changing into… people’s significant others?”
Cas nodded. “People they love. I’ve heard of this kind of shapeshifter.”
“So we gotta kill this thing,” Sam said. “Before more innocent people die, or end up in jail.”
“Sounds like a normal day,” Dean agreed, getting into the car. They drove back to the motel in silence, each lost in thought.
“Er,” Sam said when they entered their room. “Cas, we didn’t know you were coming… well, our room only has two beds…”
Cas looked uncomfortable. “Oh.”
“I guess we have to finish this today,” Dean said,. “I’m going to get a soda.” He grabbed the key and left the room, bumping into Cas on the way out. Once outside, he strolled leisurely toward the vending machine, whistling as he walked. He didn’t know why he was so happy- well, he did. It was because Cas had shown up. But he didn’t know why being around Cas made him so happy lately. Hell, he was bumping into the angel on purpose, just as an excuse to touch him. Dean shook his head, trying to clear his mind.
Turning toward the parking lot, he caught sight of someone standing by the Impala. “Cas?” he called, wondering how the angel had gotten down there so fast. He usually didn’t use his teleport-y thing for such a short distance.
Cas stared at Dean, then slowly lifted a finger and beckoned to him.
“Cas?” Dean asked, starting to get concerned. He rushed down the stairs. When he got down there he turned to look where the angel had been, but he was gone. He was standing at the edge of the woods bordering the parking lot.
“Cas, what’s going on? Stop it, now. You’re scaring me, Cas!” Dean shouted. Cas continued to walk deeper into the forest and Dean followed, his heart beating faster. Where was Cas going? Did- did he want to be alone with Dean? What did that mean?
Finally, he emerged in a clearing. Cas was standing in the middle, staring at Dean with those blue eyes that he knew and loved so much. Cas approached Dean, slowly, as if in a trance until he was close, so close, right in Dean’s face.
“Cas,” Dean breathed, and it wasn’t a question this time. He stared into the angel’s eyes...but something was wrong. Cas wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t blushing and stuttering. This wasn’t like him at all. “Wha-”
Cas dove at him and Dean’s vision went black.
Cas was pacing the motel room, and it was giving Sam a headache.
“I’m sure Dean’s fine,” Sam said, not looking up from his laptop. “Besides, he can take care of himself.”
“The vending machine is right there,” Castiel muttered. “It shouldn’t take him that long, he should be back, why isn’t he back.” He stopped and looked up at Sam. “I’m going to go check on him.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Have fun.” He went back to scrolling through news articles.
Ten seconds later, Cas burst through the door. Sam jumped up, immediately knowing something was wrong. The angel’s eyes were wild, and his face pale. He stared at Sam, looking panicked.
“What? What is it?” Sam asked, Cas’s panic wearing off on him.
Cas only managed to breath out one word. “ Dean .”
When Dean came to, he was tied to a tree. Typical. Cas- or, not Cas- was standing over him, holding a knife.
“So you’re the shapeshifter,” Dean said. “Turning into the shape of people’s loved ones, smart. But why’d you stop for me? It’s because you can’t find anyone, right? There’s no specific ‘one’ for me. You had to settle for my best friend.”
To his surprise, the shapeshifter laughed. “Best friend? Oh, that’s great. Let me tell you something, Dean Winchester,” the shapeshifter leaned over Dean. “I didn’t stop for you. I’m still turning into the one person people love the most.”
Dean’s head was spinning. “What- Cas? You think I’m in love with Cas?”
“Tell me it’s a lie, Dean,” The shapeshifter taunted. “Oh, this is so much more fun than I expected.”
“You’re crazy, I don’t love…” Dean trailed off, thinking about Cas. His best friend, Cas. His brother , Cas. The only love he felt for Cas was brotherly, right? He loved him the same way he loved Sam.
Liar , a voice in his head whispered. You don’t feel happier for no reason when you’re around Sam. You don’t go out of your way to touch Sam. Your heart doesn’t skip when he looks at you. You don’t stare at him, wishing…
The shapeshifter watched him, smirking. “That’s what I thought, Dean. Now, as much as this little love story interests me, I’m going to have to cut it short. This is one story,” he traced the knife across Dean’s cheek, drawing a line of blood. “That won’t have a happy ending.” He brought the knife down in an arc toward Dean’s stomach, and Dean closed his eyes, bracing for the pain.
“Dean!” he heard a voice shout, and his eyes flew open. Cas and Sam were standing across the clearing, both looking like they had seen a ghost.
“Dean… what? Why are there two of you?” Cas asked, confused. Meanwhile, Sam stood with his mouth wide open.
“Jess…” he whispered. Then he shook himself and seemed to come to his senses. “It’s the shapeshifter, Cas!” He grabbed his silver knife and threw himself at the monster, and they fell to the ground.
“The one that looks like the person you love?” Cas asked, still standing and staring at Dean. “Then why does it look like Dean?”
“Nevermind that, a little help here?” Dean shouted. Cas blinked and rushed over to Dean, quickly untying his bonds.
“Thanks,” Dean said, refusing to look Cas in the eyes.
Sam was still wrestling with the shapeshifter. He managed to gain the upper hand and shoved the monster to the ground.
“Sam, it’s me!” The shapeshifter shouted. Dean heard Cas say it, Cas heard Dean, and Sam heard Jess’s voice, a voice he thought he’d never hear again.
“You’re not Jess,” he said, voice breaking. And he stabbed the silver knife into the shapeshifter’s heart.
They walked back to the motel in silence, Dean making a point not to look at Castiel. He tried to push his thoughts back, but they kept coming back full-force.
I saw Cas , he thought. I love Cas .
And also Cas saw me .
When they reached the motel room, Sam, who was covered in blood, said, “I’m going to go take a shower.” Dean wanted to beg him to stay, but he knew that Sam probably needed to settle his own thoughts right now.
Dean and Cas stood in silence, until finally Dean couldn’t stand it. “Why didn’t you guys bring the gun?” he asked.
“What?” Cas startled, still not looking at Dean.
“The only weapon you had was Sam’s silver knife. Why didn’t you grab the guns?”
“Oh,” Cas blushed. “I wanted to get to you, fast, and I wasn’t thinking…” he trailed off. They stood in silence again for about a minute.
“Cas-” Dean started, at the same time Cas said “Dean-” They both laughed awkwardly.
“You go first,” Dean said.
“Alright.” Cas took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know you know that I saw the shapeshifter as you, and that means… yeah. But I didn’t know that I feel about you that way, and I still don’t know. And I know you only love me like a brother. I’m sorry that I’m making you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry that I’m ruining our friendship, and I understand if you never want to see me again.”
Dean blinked. “You think I hate you?”
Cas finally looked at him, peeking up at Dean through his eyelashes in a way that made him look cute as hell. “Don’t you?”
“Cas,” Dean said quietly. “I saw you too.”
The angel looked up at him, realization dawning on his face. “Wait. You saw me? That… that means…” he stared at Dean.
“It means I love you, you idiot,” Dean said. He squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for Cas to yell at him. Sure, Cas had seen him too, and the speech he had just gave… But that couldn’t mean what Dean thought it meant. It was just wishful thinking.
And then Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s, and all his thoughts melted away. There was just here, and now, and Cas , Castiel, his best friend, his… But no, he couldn’t think about that, now while Cas’s lips were on his, and Dean’s hand was in Cas’s ruffled hair, and his tongue was in Cas’s mouth. He’d never realized how soft Cas’s hair was, and how he fit perfectly in Dean’s arms, like it was meant to be.
Cas broke away from him and looked down at his feet, his cheeks bright red. “I’m sorry-”
Dean pulled him closer and Cas looked up at him in wonder. “Don’t apologize,” Dean said, his voice coming out rough and deep. Then he kissed Cas again and everything was right, everything was perfect. This was how it should be, him and Cas, Cas in his arms, just them and nothing else.
That was how Sam found them when he came out from the bathroom, and Dean pretended not to see how Sam smirked and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “It’s about time.” Sam went to sleep in one of the beds but Dean and Cas stayed up, talking, but mostly kissing, exploring each other, both shocked, certain that this was a dream.
And it didn’t matter one bit that there was only one other bed.