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"Yeah, okay," Sam moves away from the map, sitting back on his chair. "Kora, roll a wisdom saving throw."
“Jeez, you’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch.” Charlie tells Sam, leaning on her elbows to be able to peek at Cas’ roll. “Punishment for missing sessions is paid in your character’s blood, noted.”
Dean takes Castiel’s notebook and props it up on the table to make it harder for Charlie to see. She tries to knock it off as Sam mumbles something that no one cares enough to listen to. Dean grabs it before it topples, unable to stop Castiel as he raises his hand over the barrier to drop his die in everyone’s view.
“Buzzkill.” Dean teases, before hissing at the roll. “Fuck, dude. Should’ve stayed inside my little bubble, that I created, to protect you from the cursed Bradbury’s evil eye. Look at the consequences. Look at your choices, Cas.”
“Cursed and evil?” Castiel asks, a smile tucked in the corner of his eyes, not bothering to look back at his sheet.
“She’s that awesome.”
“Right on I am,” Charlie passes the die back to Castiel, over the still propped notebook. She pats the barrier softly, causing it to wobble even so, before retreating to her seat.
“A one?” Ash cuts in, grimacing. “Comprade, you’re gonna kill us all.”
“Hey, we don’t know if that’s what Sammy is gonna make him do!” Dean protests, turning to look at his brother.
“What Sam is gonna do,” Sam starts, glaring at Dean. Dean laughs in his face. “Is ask you what the total is.”
“Dude, it’s a one, why you wanna torture the man with math? Hasn’t he suffered enough? He missed seeing this face,” Dean points at himself exaggeratedly, “for a whole week-”
“A blessing.” His brother mutters.
“He must’ve been pining. Penelope is put to shame! And now you-”
“4.” Castiel interrupts.
“Took you long enough to add that, mister accountant.”
Castiel rolls his eyes at the last bit, as he always does. Maybe one day it will make him stop bringing the suits to the sessions. “Oh, you seemed inspired. I did not want to cut the wings out of your sails.”
Dean stares at him. Castiel stares back.
There’s no way in hell Cas isn’t messing with him. No one messes something that badly. How would that even make sense?
Castiel’s face is impassive. A little concern etches in between his eyebrows, like he doesn’t understand why Dean is not answering him.
Sam clears his throat, bringing the attention of the table back to him. “Well. That’s a failure-”
“No shit, Sammy.”
“Shut up, Dean-”
“Wait.” Everyone turns to Ash, who’s leaning on the table, head tilted towards Sam’s spot. Dean notices it a second before Ash declares “Music change. Oh fuck .”
“Is that… Did you fucking instrumental Welcome to the jungle?” Dean accuses, hand reaching out to try and grab Sam’s phone.
Sam huffs, moving his phone closer to himself. “The riff was gonna be so kicking with the bit of narration but you assholes ruined it.”
“He’s gonna kill us all.” Ash sing-songs.
“Oh come on,” Charlie says, as Sam stands up to avoid Dean’s hand. “We can take Kora in a fight, we can still win this.”
“Being a cheerful hobbit,” Dean quotes, straining to reach Sam’s hand, before punching him on the gut to make him fold. “Give me that, what other shameful thing have you done, I raised you better-”
“He had needed no hope,” Charlie continues, hand under her chin as she watches the brothers fight. “As long as despair could be postponed.”
“Two Towers?” Ash asks Charlie.
“Dean!” Sam’s annoyed shout takes center stage. “Sit the fuck down.”
“Stanford changed you, man.” Dean shakes his head, moving behind his own chair and leaning on the back of it. “You didn’t have a great taste in music before, but you weren’t sacrilegious.”
“Yeah yeah, as if your music wasn’t just dad’s. At least I have a taste.” Sam sits down, flapping his hand at Dean when he opens his mouth. “Shut up.”
Dean looks down at Cas, only to find Cas already looking up at him. Dean raises his eyebrows, rolling his eyes pointedly at Sam, the can you believe this gu y clear without words. Castiel shakes his head fondly.
Soft strings play from Sam’s phone, the sound lowering until its belly crawls, notes scraping and bottom welling. “Kora,” Dean taps Cas’ shoulder and points at his brother when Castiel doesn’t immediately drop his eyes from Dean’s. “You go to take a step forward but hesitate. It’s been a while since you’ve heard someone speaking Celestial, but her plea for help translates easily. It feels like home. You haven’t been home in so long. Homesickness drowns everything for a second before you snap back into reality, into the pain in her voice. You look around. You are in hostile territory. Surrounded. Your allies are looking at you, desperate to reach you. One of them is bleeding out, her wing almost torn out of its socket. What do you do?”
“How far away am I from her?” Castiel asks, mouth moving silently with Sam’s count.
“20 feet. She’s the closest, her arm is raised and her eyes dance with triumph even when her mouth is twisted in desperation. You know her, you haven’t seen her in ages but of course you know her.”
“I don’t want to move in case someone attacks me.” Looking down at his sheet, Castiel nods to himself as he thinks. Dean moves to see over Cas’ shoulder, as if seeing the list of spells would clarify which one Castiel picks. “You said allies, how do the others look?”
“Two of them look a little battered, but you can’t say whenever the blood on their clothes is from injuries or the fight. One of them is on the floor, not moving.”
“I’m going to cast Mass healing word,” The rest of the table groans. “Looking at each of the three of them and then at myself, saying… uhm..” Castiel looks up at Dean and says “‘Tis but a scratch,” in the worst British accent Dean has ever heard.
Dean… Dean loses it. The rest of the table is also laughing and Cas is obviously feeling very proud of himself, the little glimmer in his eye and the sliver of a smile in his lips, but Dean is folded, laughter shaking through his body and forehead resting against the back of the chair, eyes tracking Castiel because he cannot. He cannot miss this.
“Gonna assume that’s on you.” Sam not-quite-asks Dean.
“Movie nights are a blessing.” Charlie declares, laughter clinging to her words. “God, Cas, your accent .”
“Check on Balthazar, man, I think he must have died or felt a disturbance in the force after that.” Dean tries to say, huffing and taking his beer to take a sip once the laughter has died down. “Now, that… That I’m proud of, buddy. Thank you for not betraying me like Sam.”
“You’re welcome, Dean.” Castiel says, looking down at the sheet again, grabbing for his dice before stopping. “Wait, how far is the person who is down?”
Sam breathes out, shakes himself and puts down the glass of water he was raising to his lips. “25 feet.”
Castiel bites his lip. “I’m going to risk attacks of opportunity and run towards that person.”
“Just your movement?” Castiel nods. “Okay, so. The rest of you, you see Kora bolting towards the enemy after shouting that.”
“Did we notice that we didn’t get magically cured?” Ash asks.
Sam moves his head, weighing the idea. “It’s too quick, I don’t think you would recognize that Kora is healing the enemy until his turn ends. It could have been that he was healing someone else from your troupe and not you, you don’t know.”
“Shit.” Dean mutters, sitting back on his chair.
“That's it?” Sam says, rapidly followed by “Hey, wait, did you tell me how much you healed them?”
Castiel shakes his head. “I was gonna say that I use Spare the dying on the person that’s down and then calculate the total.”
“Cantrip?”
“Yes,” Castiel confirms. “And Mass healing word used as a bonus action instead of an action.”
“Right.”
“Man, why aren’t you that effective when you’re on our side?” Dean whines.