Work Text:
Dean leaned back against the Impala’s hood, waiting for Sam's comment.
“I don't know, man. Are you sure this is our thing?” Sam said, staring out at the field in front of them.
Dean shrugged.
“You took the call, Sam. What did Garth say?”
Sam sucked in a deep breath before answering.
“It was the two things together, you know. The weird meteor strike thing plus the patterns in the corn.” Sam fished his phone out of his back pocket. “See?” He held up a screenshot of a local free newspaper. The headline said Maze Maize Mystery.
Dean stared at the screen, his brother, and then finally let his gaze wander over the tall stalks of corn. Something was off with the whole situation. He couldn't put his finger on what yet, though.
“You've lost your minds, the two of you! Guess it can't hurt to have a look, seeing as we're here.”
It might have been more fun if Cas was with them, running through the—no. No chick flick moments, please. Besides, Cas would probably have bored them to death with a history of mazes and corn.
Sam strode off like a man who knew where he was going. Giant nerd. Why the hell was he excited over solving some X-Files hoaxer’s idea of a practical joke?
Dean caught up with him.
The brothers trudged through the twists and turns, hitting dead ends and arguing over which way to go when they got to a new decision point.
“I think we're getting close to the centre. I mean the impact site,” Sam said with an odd level of confidence in his voice.
Dean furrowed his brow, repeating Sam's sentences in his head. He'd no clue, having long since lost any sense of time or direction back to the start of the maze.
It did seem as though Sam may have had a point.
Dean took a closer look at their surroundings. Everything was starting to look a little less green around them. Maybe there was something to this wild goose chase after all.
Dean almost ran into Sam, as he turned what he reckoned was the last corner.
“Dude!”
Sam grinned as he stood back.
“Hello, Dean.”
Dean did a double-take. There was no meteor impact zone. In that small circle at the very middle of the maze of flattened corn was a plaid blanket with a full picnic laid out on it.
“Thank you, Sam,” Cas said from his seat behind the spread of mouth-watering food. “Come join me, Dean.”
Sam used the back of his hand to shut Dean’s open mouth. Then he jabbed Dean in the ribs with a sharp elbow and shoved him forward. “Go on. See you later, Cas.”
Sam had disappeared back into the maze before Dean could lay into him.
“This?” Dean said, settling himself opposite his dorky angel. “You set all this up with Garth?”
“Of course,” Cas said, pulling his trademark head tilt and raised eyebrow expression. “We have pie—three flavours, too.”
“Why?”
Dean snatched up a slice of the apple. He paused with it right in front of his mouth.
“Because you deserve all the good things, Dean.”
Cas beamed at him and reached across the picnic to hold Dean's hands.
“Might also have something to do with the fact that I love you Dean Winchester,” he said, squeezing Dean's hand.
Dean swallowed audibly before giving his reply.
“I know.”