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Sam Winchester just wanted to enjoy his coffee, for once.
It had been over a year since Chuck was defeated, and despite what the Kansas song said, there definitely wasn’t peace when they were done. He and Eileen had been busy building up the hunter network, house hunting, and planning their wedding. Oddly enough, all had the same level of urgency for Sam. Dean and Castiel had finally gotten together, which should have provided Sam with some relief from the constant tension between them, but if anything the need for brain bleach had only grown stronger as they … experimented with their newfound intimacy. It took several accidental interruptions for Sam to learn that he should just stick to rooms with open doors for the foreseeable future.
Despite the hustle and bustle of their new lives, Sam tried to carve out some time to breathe. He still went on his daily runs, sometimes accompanied by Eileen or Miracle, and he got his reading time in with a steaming hot mug of coffee each morning. The odds of making it through his designated coffee hour without interruption were low, but Sam figured the attempt was enough. Today, however, the bunker was blessedly quiet. He happily settled into his comfy chair for a relaxing date with This House Is Haunted .
After twenty minutes of silence, Sam grew suspicious. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t seen Dean or Castiel all morning. He tried to brush his feeling of unease off. They were probably just having a lazy morning together, and he did not feel like knocking on their bedroom door to confirm that (lesson learned). But as the minutes continued to tick by, Sam grew restless. He had last seen the pair yesterday afternoon -- they hadn’t had dinner together, with Castiel vaguely explaining that he and Dean had “a previous engagement.” Again, Sam did not want further details. But now he worried that his brother might have gone on a solo hunt without telling him. It would be just like those lovebirds to go take care of some ghost as a romantic getaway and neglect to tell Sam. What if they were in danger?
Sam groaned and got up, making the trek to what Eileen dubbed the Honeymoon Suite. Much to his dismay, the door was slightly ajar, and even from the hallway he could see that their bed was made. A quick trip to the garage confirmed his fear: the Impala was gone.
“Dammit, Dean,” he grumbled as he pulled out his phone. He texted Castiel, knowing that if Dean went through the trouble of sneaking out, there was no way he’d message Sam back.
They are so on a hunt , Sam thought to himself. And Castiel’s attempt to reassure him only made him more nervous. What weren’t they telling him?
Thank God he’d installed that tracking app on everyone’s phones. He didn’t like to use it, but if his brother and his angelic husband were going to go off on secret hunts, he damn sure wasn’t going to let them go alone. After texting Eileen to let her know he was heading out to check on Dean and Castiel, Sam got into the minivan he and Eileen had bought after they got engaged. Dean had nearly died of laughter when he first saw it, but it more than suited Sam. They’d be able to fit plenty of kids in there eventually, and for now he could keep his hunting supplies neat and organized in the back.
Tracking Castiel’s phone and turning on his GPS, Sam could see that they were by a lake about 45 minutes north of the bunker. He wished Castiel would have told him what creature they were hunting so he could be more prepared, but there wasn’t time. If they had gotten themselves in trouble, he didn’t want to make it worse by blowing up Castiel’s phone with texts.
As Sam approached the spot, the paved streets gave way to a winding dirt road covered with autumn leaves. It was beautiful here, the perfect place for a romantic fall drive. He’d have to take Eileen here sometime, maybe have a little picnic. It didn’t occur to Sam until he saw the lake that if this place seemed like an ideal date spot to him, that it might be an ideal spot for Dean and Castiel too. The water was still and clear, with colorful leaves floating on the surface. What if they were just on a nice Saturday morning drive?
No , Sam thought. Castiel would just tell me . After all, this was the angel who had recently described, in graphic detail, the birthday surprise he had planned for Dean. Sam reflexively shivered in disgust remembering it. He grabbed his gun and exited the car, closing the door quietly. He moved along the perimeter of the lake, not hearing anything at first. Soon, he could make out a melody in the distance. It didn’t sound like a song he knew -- could they be going after some weird lake siren?
As Sam made his way towards the sound, it started to coalesce into words. It was still too faint for him to make out the lyrics, but the creature’s voice sounded deep and oddly off-key for a siren. Really, really off-key, actually.
To his relief he could see Castiel’s tan trench coat through the leaves. He crept forward, wanting to alert Castiel to his presence without tipping off whatever creature this was.
Castiel turned around suddenly, knocking Sam back on his ass. “Castiel,” Sam hissed, “what’s going on? Are you guys okay?”
He looked embarrassed, which was not the reaction Sam was expecting. “Sam, I told you we were fine. What are you doing here?”
“Helping you with the hunt? And you’re welcome, by the way. I knew when you told me to stay away that you were hiding something. What are you guys going after?”
Up close, the singing was even worse. But now that he could hear it better, Sam found that it did sound familiar. In fact, it reminded him a lot of when he was a kid and would fall asleep in the Impala to Dean singing alone to the radio. He’d had to learn to tune him out because of his god awful pitch issues.
Wait.
Castiel cleared his throat. “Well, um, Dean and I stayed up late last night because one of the singers he likes came out with a new album.” His brow furrowed. “Or, well, it was the same album she already made, but this time she recorded it all again. I do not know why she did that, though Dean did try to explain the intricacies of human copyright law to me on the drive over here.”
Before Castiel could continue, the voice grew louder, and Sam stood up. Just ahead, hidden in a grove of trees, was the Impala. And inside, Dean was singing at the top of his lungs with the speakers turned all the way up.
“And maybe we got LOST IN TRANSLATION maybe I ASKED FOR TOO MUCH or maybe this thing was a MASTERPIECE TIL YOU TORE IT ALL UP…”
Sam’s jaw hit the ground as Dean obliviously continued singing, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Castiel moved to stand next to Sam. “You know, I think it’s healthy that Dean is learning to express his emotions in this way. He and Ms. Swift seem to have a lot in common. I offered to watch from a distance so he could express himself without worrying about being judged. That’s very important for Dean, I’ve been reading up on trauma responses.” Castiel leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “I think this song is his favorite.”
Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his emotionally constipated brother only being able to let his grief out via Taylor Swift karaoke. Before he could do either one, Dean rolled the window down and stuck his head out.
“Hey Cas this is the good part -- AND YOU CALLED ME UP AGAAAAAAIN JUST TO BREAK ME LIKE A PROMISE, SO CASUALLY CRUEL IN THE NAAAAAME OF BEING HONEST --”
Dean abruptly stopped singing when he saw Sam standing there. Hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks, he slammed an angry mask over his features. “Sammy, you saw NOTHING, you hear me? NOTHING.”
Sam let his laughter bubble up. He couldn’t resist teasing his brother. “Don’t let me interrupt your world tour, Dean. Should I call Simon Cowell and tell him I have his next big star right here?”
Castiel faced Sam, his expression stern. “Sam, it’s important that Dean be able to enjoy these sad songs as much as he likes. I don’t think we should mock earnest efforts to get in touch with his emotions.”
“Cas, I am right here. Can’t a man just enjoy his music in peace without being psychoanalyzed every three seconds?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Not all her songs are sad.”
“That’s true.” Castiel furrowed his brow in thought. “That one about the dress was an excellent choice for our last date night. I especially liked the ‘pining and desperately waiting’ part. What a creative way to describe –”
“OKAY!” Sam interrupted. He felt the heat of a blush creep up his neck. “Remember when I said I didn’t need to know any details?”
“That’s your own damn fault, we tried to leave you out of it,” Dean grumbled, leaning back into the driver’s seat. “I specifically picked this place because no one comes here, and you came rolling right in. Cas and I were just fine before you showed up.”
Sam held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, point taken. I’ll let you get back to this bizarre therapy session.”
Castiel hummed in agreement. “Yes Sam, I think that would be best. This is a safe space for Dean, and in future I will be more communicative to protect it. It was my fault for being cagey. After all, you have your own trauma to contend with and I should have been more cognizant of it.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Did you swallow a psychology textbook?”
“Blame Mia,” Dean scoffed. “He’s been talking to her about grief counseling. It’s like living with Dr. Phil. Any day now he’ll hang out his shingle.” The proud gleam in Dean’s eyes betrayed his true thoughts on Castiel’s new hobby even as he fake-scowled.
Chuckling, Sam turned to leave. “Oh boy. Have fun, you crazy kids.”
As he walked back to the van, his phone buzzed. It was Eileen, checking in to make sure he and the others were okay. He fired off a brief text explaining the situation.
Sam reached the van and put away his supplies, shaking his head in exasperation at Eileen’s last text. Great, now Cas and Eileen were teaming up too? Just what he needed.
As he started the car, the start of another song started wafting through the crisp air. Despite his best efforts, he tapped the steering wheel in time with the beat.
Damn , he thought. Gotta hand it to Dean. Taylor Swift is pretty catchy .
Driving away, he couldn’t help but sing along under his breath.
“Losing him was blue, like I'd never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
But loving him was red…”