Chapter Text
That morning, Dean had woken with a jolt, body in a cold sweat. He doesn’t remember what he dreamed.
When Baby finally rolls into town, Dean’s tired and hungry and he thinks he’s too old to spend so much time on the road, but he keeps his mouth shut about it. In the back seat, Cas is ignoring him.
“So are we on a vacation or a hunt?”
Sam huffs and ignores his brother as he opens the passenger door and climbs out of the car.
“It’s both!” Jack says, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for the rest of them to get out and be as ready to go as he is. As soon as Cas is out of the car he shuts the door behind him. “I’m excited!”
“Good for you buddy,” Dean says. Cas shoots him a glare and Dean shrugs and mouths What? where Jack can’t see. And sure, maybe he edged towards sarcastic, but he hadn’t meant to be mean. It was good that Jack was excited. Dean wants the kid to be happy. Feels personally invested in his happiness, even. And not in a “we should keep this ultimate cosmic entity happy just in case” kind of way, but just in the way any person might want someone they care about and are responsible for to be happy. After the shit start to life he’d had, Jack deserves a little uncomplicated happiness, and if that’s a vacation hunt, then so be it.
That’s an awful lot to communicate in just a look though, and either Dean’s face has a smaller vocabulary than he thought or Cas just chooses to misunderstand, because he ignores him and turns to Jack. “Yes,” Cas says, clapping Jack in the shoulder. “It is good. I appreciate your excitement, Jack, and I’m sure that you’re going to do very well at both vacationing and hunting.”
Jack beams up at Cas who returns it fondly, looking warm and soft and paternal.
It makes something in Dean clench tight, a painful sort of fondness flowing in the center of his chest. It’s something he’s gotten used to recently, and it has a pesky habit of appearing any time he sees Cas around Jack. Cas is a great dad. And it’s clearly something very meaningful to him; not only does he care about Jack—he clearly loves him—he also clearly loves being a dad. It’s not something that he and Dean have ever talked about, but it shines out of him every time he and Jack are in the same place.
And already Dean was glad to have Jack back with them. The kid deserves to have a normal life—or at least the Winchester equivalent of a normal life, whatever he can have being involved with a family as messed up as theirs. But Dean’s also glad for the rest of their sakes, too. They get to have Jack back in their lives, which is definitely something worth celebrating. And of course that’s great for him and Sam, but most of all Dean is happy for Cas. He gets his kid back. There’s a part of Dean that he usually tries to ignore that is steadily reminding him of his own role in Jack’s life, and how he’s essentially a father figure as well. It’s something that he’s going to deal with. One day. It sure as hell isn’t going to be this day. So regardless of how he feels about Jack, and all the things that need to be mended between them, he can be pleased for this opportunity Cas has to bond with his kid. Whatever makes Cas happy is okay by Dean.
Sam’s talking as they walk towards the office to check into their motel rooms, but Dean’s not paying much attention. Cas and Jack are walking a little in front of him, chatting about something Dean can’t hear, and he hangs back behind the rest of the group, his mind whirling. It’s his last thought that he’s really focusing on: Cas’s happiness .
See, the thing is, there was one thing that made Cas happy—his true happiness, he had said—and he and Dean have not talked about it.
Yeah.
Dean’s not really too happy with himself either.
It’s not like he’s totally avoiding it. He is, maybe, avoiding it a little . But it’s not like Cas makes it difficult to stay away from the subject. Cas hasn’t brought it up either. Dean is aware, distantly, that that’s not really fair, but he’s not above using that as an excuse. He’ll take any excuse he can get, because at this point even thinking about it makes his stomach start to revolt. And obviously throwing up on his goddamn shoes while he’s trying to have a sincere heart-to-heart wasn’t going to facilitate any sort of good communication.
So. Here’s the deal.
Cas loves him.
Cas is in love with him, and while Dean would love to plug his ears and la-la-la his way out of the situation, he can’t ignore the reality of it–it would be unfair to Cas to pretend that he hadn’t understood him. Cas is in love with him. Or he was . He definitely was in love with him, right before he died, right before he used his very last moments to tell Dean he loves him before he was whisked away into an ooze of eternal torment. So. He might, maybe, possibly, still be in love with him. It could happen. Unless the time he spent in the Empty cured him of that, which is not outside the realm of possibility. It could happen. Dean didn’t really get the whole love thing to begin with, so he could understand if a little torture wipes it right out, that’s all he’s saying.
He tugs at the collar of his shirt and swallows, trying not to look at Cas.
The thing is, he knows that he’s making excuses, that he’s being deliberately obtuse. He knows that it’s not fair to Cas. It took an unbelievable amount of courage to stand there and bare his soul and Dean doesn’t want to—and he shouldn’t, he thinks—do him the disservice of not believing him or dismissing him. He needs to really sit with it, accept it. Cas loves him. That’s amazing, really. An honor. And it means that Dean needs to figure out how he feels about Cas.
And that’s the problem. Dean doesn’t really know how he feels. He has so thoroughly pushed down his feelings for Cas, for so long, that unearthing them now feels like digging down to the very marrow of his bones, flaying himself raw.
Luckily for him, though, Cas seems just as eager as Dean is to avoid the situation and so they still haven’t talked about it. Cas, in fact, is not only avoiding the situation, he’s also avoiding Dean. So far, it’s been subtle enough that there’s room for doubt, but Dean knows what’s up. He thinks even Sam has noticed, and that’s why he insisted on dragging them all out here.
After they get checked into rooms at the hotel, they go grab a bite to eat while Sam outlines all the research he’s done on the weird happenings in town.
“That barely sounds like a case,” Dean scoffs.
Sam pushes his hair back and pointedly keeps his exasperation off his face. “I know, Dean, like I said. It’s not a big deal. If there had been something more serious that needed immediate attention, we could have dealt with that. But…” His gaze slides over to Jack before quickly switching back to Dean. “There hasn’t really been a lot to hunt after the—“ He clears his throat. “After.”
“I think it’s working out pretty well,” Jack says, ignoring the slight tension around the table. He takes a bite of his chocolate chip pancakes and chews happily. He swallows and says “I know it was interference, but it felt like setting things right, and I figure that’s okay.”
“Yes, Jack,” Cas tells him. He nods encouragingly. “It was your power to use how you saw fit. I think you did a good job.”
“Thanks, Cas,” Jack says. He smiles brightly. “I don’t think being god was really for me, though.”
“Right.” Sam clears his throat again. “Well, like I was saying. The case. There have been reports of people, mostly tourists to the area, falling asleep and then disappearing. They’re unharmed, but when they wake up they’re in a completely different location.”
“So? They’re sleepwalking,” Dean says, his mouth full of burger. Sam gives him a bitch face and Dean just smiles around bulging cheeks.
“Obviously that was what people thought at first, but it’s just not possible. One of the… not victims , but one of the people who experienced this phenomenon, Franklin Hammer, disappeared from his hardware store downtown, and re-appeared at the park at the town center a few blocks away. It would have been impossible for him to sleepwalk from there to there without anyone seeing him.”
“So he really did disappear,” Cas says thoughtfully. “And then popped back into existence.”
“Did he give a statement about what happened?” Jack asks. His brow is drawn and he looks like he’s thinking hard about the case. It makes him look a little more like a kid, like a boy playing detective, and Dean fights to hide his grin. He doesn’t say it, though, doesn’t want Jack to think he’s taking him less than seriously.
Sam glances at something on his phone. “Yeah, he did,” he says. “So get this. He says that he has no memory of where he was or how he wound up in the park. As far as he knows, he was just asleep. He said he had one of the best, most vivid dreams he’s ever had while he was asleep, but other than the random transportation he couldn’t really describe anything unusual about the experience.”
“So it’s like I said.” Dean gives Sam a look. “Barely a case.”
Sam rolls his eyes, exasperated to a degree that even Cas would be proud of. Seriously, how did he manage it so that the two most important people in his life have so little patience for him? Sam huffs and says “The disappearing, Dean. It’s pretty obviously supernatural?”
“Yes,” Cas says with a slight frown. “Humans can’t do that.” The way he says it is deadpan, but there’s a note of concern in his voice, like he’s worried Dean might have forgotten.
“Are we sure they’re human?” Jack asks. “Maybe it’s totally normal for them! Lots of non-humans can do that kind of thing.”
“Angels can fly. I’m sure you remember that, Dean,” Cas adds, completely unhelpfully, because yeah. Hell yes Dean remembers his old habit of just flitting off whenever he felt like it. He didn’t like that Cas had lost his wings, of course, but there had been a selfish part of him glad when it was harder for Cas to leave him. Not that that had stopped him of course, but. Dean took a drink from the glass of water in front of him, quelling his thoughts. No point in dredging all that up now.
“Sure, Cas,” he says instead.
“Are we going to interview Franklin Hammer?” Jack asks. “We could at least find out if he is a non-human.”
“Hammer…” Cas frowns and tips his head up thoughtfully. “His name is the same as one of the most common hand tools, often found in hardware stores. I wonder if he’s aware of the coincidence of his name and his chosen business.”
Sam coughs. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “Probably so, Cas.” He looks over at Jack. “And yes, I would like to interview him, just to follow up.”
#
They talk to Franklin Hammer, who’s so eager to tell the story of what happened to him that they don’t even need a cover story. As soon as they walk into the hardware store and Dean starts to ask if they have some jigsaw blades in stock, he strikes up a conversation and winds up telling them the whole thing himself. Sam and Jack ask some salient questions while Dean wanders through the aisles. Hammer doesn’t have anything useful to add, and as far as everyone can tell he’s completely human. Nothing in the hardware store—where he disappeared from–pings anything, either, after both Jack and Cas take a look around. The next step would normally be to interview the other “victims” but most of them were visitors and tourists and have already left town. The experiences are odd, too, with no consistency or throughline for what happens during the time the people are “sleep”. A young girl dreamed she got to play in a ball pit full of kittens. A man in his twenties, a tourist, got high with Mothman. There’s a woman staying at a fancy bed and breakfast on the edge of town who had the same sort of experience, so they decide to go and interview her.
If it was a monster, then maybe Dean would be concerned, but he can’t help but suspect that it’s all just a wild goose chase. No one has been hurt, and while sure, the teleportation is out of the ordinary, the fact that everyone just thought they were asleep and dreaming during the time they were missing seems like a big indicator that things are okay. It might be witches, that’s true, and while Dean’s relaxed his stance on witches some he still has some concerns –so really that’s the only reason he agreed to come at all. Jack took care of most things during his stint as the big man upstairs, and if no one is being hurt then Dean can’t help but think it’s not really worth making this “case” a priority. Maybe he’s just getting soft in his old age.
“Don’t think we all need to go talk to this lady, Sammy,” he says, clapping his brother on the back.
Sam makes a face for a moment. But then his eyes shoot from Dean to Cas and he lights up for a moment before quickly schooling his face back to neutrality. “Yeah, if you and Cas want to explore, um, other avenues I think Jack and I will be fine by ourselves. You can take point on this one, Jack.”
Cas squints and Dean bites back his annoyance at how obvious Sam is being. He and Cas are fine . They might not be talking all that much, and there might be a ton laying unsaid between them, but they’re fine . “What other avenues are there to investigate? There are no other leads.”
“You can check out all the spots around town where the disappearances were reported,” Sam tells him.
“And I saw an advertisement for a place when we were at the motel,” Jack pipes up. “All the people involved fell asleep, right? Well this place is a tea shop slash relaxation center.” He looks up at his brow scrunches as he tries to remember. “I think the brochure called it a dream emporium? Dream-porium? That seems like a good lead!”
“It seems dumb as hell,” Dean says under his breath, but everyone ignores him.
“Thank you, Jack,” Cas says seriously. “We’d be happy to check it out.”
“Hey,” Dean barks. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
Cas doesn’t look at him when he says “No.”
#
A Good Fellow’s Dream is situated in an out of the way corner of town, in a squat building covered with vines, an assortment of flowers and shrubberies lining the walls under the front windows. When Dean and Cas step in to the sleepy little shop, the proprietor at the desk looks up. He’s a large man with a tanned face and a full, greying beard. His eyes are bright and sparkling and he’s wearing corduroy overalls and a knitted beanie.
“Afternoon,” he says. “Welcome to Good Fellow’s. How can I help you?”
A loud sound from their left catches Dean off guard and he glances over to see another man in a rocking chair, fast asleep. He snores again, louder, white curls twitching across his forehead as he gently rocks.
“What’s his deal?” Dean asks, gesturing towards the man. “This the town napping spot or something?”
The man lets out a big, hearty laugh. “Don’t mind him,” he says. “That’s my business partner. Runs the store with me. Does the big picture stuff while I’m more of the day to day.” He grins and his teeth are big and white. His canines are sharp, long, their points resting above his lower lip.
Dean clears his throat. There’s something about the man that’s putting him on his guard. Cas seems to sense it, too, as he stands stiff beside him. “Uh, sure,” he says. “We were just visiting town and decided to stop in and see what a dream emporium was all about.”
After that, the man’s smile grows wider. He stares at Dean and Cas for a long moment, too long, and Dean realizes abruptly that they’re the only customers in the store. “We’re a tea shop slash relaxation center,” he says, just as Jack had, reading from the brochure. “We offer a fine selection of in-house blends, if you want to check out our menu.” He wraps a big knuckle on the counter and then gestures up to the chalkboard above him. There are two tables against a wall and more on a back patio. “Also we have yoga and meditation classes, sell lots of local handicrafts. Candles, honey—” And Cas lights up, the nerd. “--textile crafts like knitting, crocheting. Even got a lady who quilts and does clothing repair.”
“But.” Cas frowns, and he’s looking around the little shop with a discerning eye. “What does that have to do with dreams? You don’t sell dreams.” His frown deepens. “Not even metaphorically.”
The shopkeeper laughs and Dean realizes that they never asked for his name. “You know what,” he says, instead of answering the question, “I like you. Thought maybe you boys were here to cause trouble for us, but that’s not it at all is it.” He leans closer. “The dreams,” he says. “You really want to know?” he asks, and suddenly his voice is soft and quiet.
Dean and Cas exchange a look. “Yes,” Cas says. “We want to know.”
“Well then.” The man puts his hands flat on the counter in front of him. Everything around him is… swirling. Things are blurring together and Dean feels heavy. “Have good dreams.”