Chapter Text
Back at the crusty, old bunker, Sam was attempting to find new ways to make salads more appealing to Dean. He always questioned how Dean’s liver was still up and running due to the fact that beer seems to be existing in his hands at all times. Whether they were working a case or not, Sam was always trying to find new ways to look out for Dean, playing the brotherly role towards one another.
Meanwhile fixing Dean’s finest meal, Sam sprinkled in a small amount of bacon, but not the whole pig, to top the leafy-green lettuce laying in the bowl. Following afterwards, he added in the kale, or as Dean likes to call it, Lucifer himself in vegetable form. Sam stood back for a minute to grasp the creation he made. The different colors of the carrots, olives, cabbage, and bacon made him raise a brow. Something was missing from the puzzle. Aha! It was the sweet, delicious dressing everyone craved. After drenching the salad with dressing until it was a soup, it was time to deliver this masterpiece.
“Dean! I made you—.“ Hesitating, Sam continued, “Bacon, yeah, I made you bacon.”
Dead silent, you could hear a pin drop from a mile away. Scary enough, Dean never misses out on a chance for food, especially bacon. Sam felt an icy chill roll down his spine as he stepped back into the kitchen.
Sam hollered one last time “Dean! I made you bacon, do you want it?”
Sam swiftly grabbed the closest rusty bread knife swapping it out for the salad. Made him wonder, why is a bread knife so big? Strangely enough, it’s not like it’s for a demon or anything, it’s just bread. Unless of course, some breads are somehow cursed, but that still wouldn’t make any sense. Moving on! Quickly but carefully, he pushed himself through the doorway bumping his shoulders on the sides. He jumped out into the hallway trying not to make much noise. Walking with his toes first to minimize sound, he looked as if he were about to fall over from concentration.
Finally, he had reached his designated spot, Dean’s room. You could tell it was Dean’s room not by the look, but by the smell. The aroma of gas station burgers and beer completed the trail. Deep breath in, deep breath out, on the count of three we attack. Sam was thinking as if someone could actually hear him. Here goes nothing…one…two…three…There was a silent pause.
“Dean? Is that—?” Sam quickly realized what he had gotten himself into.
Dean was standing in the middle of his bedroom caressing a blank face. Sam couldn’t tell who is was because their movements were too swift. He was staring back at Sam like a deer caught in the headlights. Except for this time he wasn't alone, someone was standing right there along with him. Who was it? Suddenly, Dean was using every prop he could find to cover this mysterious person. He briskly swung his arms back to his sides as if nothing had just happened. For a split second, Dean looked genuinely happy, like a little ball of sunshine. But it didn’t last for long for Sam had barged into the roller coaster of love affairs.
“Uh…I was just ma—, I-I was do—, hey there Sam!” Dean was trying his absolute hardest to distract him from what he had just done. “What do you got there? A samurai sword?”
Dean was definitely uncomfortable, ill at ease. It took Sam a minute to realize it, but Dean was embarrassed! All things considered, Sam chuckled out of his awkwardness. He slightly tilted his head trying to peer farther into the room attempting to find the disappearing lady Dean was smooching on. Dean took notice, he pounced at Sam like an unfriendly house cat, diverting him from the situation as quick as one could move their legs.
“Hey, how about we use this…” Dean questioned Sam’s choice of weapon, “samurai sword…and practice for some type of zombie apocalypse.”
Dean softly glared into his eyes and placed his hand on his back. For a moment, Dean felt like the protecter Sam always needed. The big brother to keep him from harm was right there with him.
SMACK! It all faded quickly when Dean hurled Sam into the hallway, ostracizing him from the group. Sam tumbled into complete confusion. His limbs thumped as they flailed out in every direction.
SCREET! Sam’s bread knife slid across the floor scratching everything that came in contact with it. Dean will never forgive him for that.
WHAM! The racket of Dean’s timber door slamming into its frame made his ears ring. Sam could still feel the brogue print on his back.
Furiously, Sam made an effort to brush off the imprint left behind. He slowly creaked himself back up unto his two feet. Puffing out his breath, he walked over to pick his knife back up. As he did so, he surveyed the scrapes and cuts along the walls and concrete floor. This made him even more enraged than he already was.
“Dean! It’s a bread knife, not a samurai sword! If you would actually read something, you would learn for once!” Sam rantingly yowled.
No doubt, you could still hear the tête-à-tête going on between the heavily plastered walls. Sam was just dying to know, he was shocked that this could happen. What makes this chick so special that she was brought to the bunker? Dean never does that, I mean Dean shouldn’t do that. This must have been a very trustworthy relationship. Knowingly for that matter, this partnership couldn’t have been new, this woman must have been part of Dean’s life for quite some time now. How could this possibly be in accordance with the facts when Sam doesn’t even know about this tryst?
* * *
24 Hours Earlier
One thing people may not know about Sam and Dean is that they do other things besides hunting and saving the universe. A day without laughter is a day wasted. So It’s always good to have a little fun every now and then. The problem is that they haven't had a lot of joy since the apocalypse. Between preparing and planning for their next case, there was no time for it anyway.
As you may know, Cass isn’t exactly up to the minute. He likes to keep his style old-fashion, hence the 1850s trench coat. Surprisingly, one thing he hasn’t experienced yet in all his centuries of living is laser tag, the most ultimate game of future generations to come. With that convenience, why not kill two birds with one stone and get practice and play all in one, it’s the ultimate package. Dean loves the idea, Sam is thrilled with it, and Cass…just wants to go for the hell of it.
They all hopped into the Impala with Cass in the back. The car ride there was peaceful and still, even though Cass almost flipped the car over so that Dean wouldn’t hit the flying bird passing by. Every now and then, Sam and Dean would hear a ridiculous question from Cass.
“Why is it called laser tag?” Cass would propose, “Unless they use real lasers to mark humans.”
Sam would stir in, “Well, they use a light laser to act upon infrared-sensitive targets, which is what we’ll be wearing.”
“Can we just enjoy something without geek-ing out for once, please?” Dean groaned.
Sam fumingly responded, “Knowledge is power, Dean. Therefore, I will dominate both you two in this game.”
The silence was broken, the rest of the car ride was nonstop arguments about who would get Cass on their team. Sam and Dean were so twisted up in winning the game that Cass was completely out of the picture. Because of how childish they were acting the blowup between the two had gotten so bad that they had to battle it out with the classic rock-paper-scissors. Like most cases, Dean loss by repeated strategy. If only someone could tell him to choose something other than scissors he could actually take on new possibilities within the rock-paper-scissors borderlines.
Not too long after, they arrived at the arcade, Club Maroon, what a creative name. Dean was trying his hardest to remain calm and not freak out like a five year old on christmas morning. The bright big smiles on Sam and Dean’s faces made Cass feel a bit more welcomed. Some man-made structures make Cass a bit worried, especially when they sound like a galactic speed sport (laser tag). If the Winchesters like it, then it can’t be so bad…right?
The two rushed into the building without any second thoughts. As they were filling out the applications for the ultimate laser tag heading their way, a slight issue popped up. Cass doesn’t exactly have a full name. He was too caught up in saving the planet that he forgot to give himself a title.
The manager at the table kindly questioned, “Excuse me, sir. You can’t leave your last name blank.”
Cass was stumped, he really didn’t have a name or a fake badge to prove it. He knew Sam and Dean would disapprove if he told the human the alarming reality of the outside world. For this matter, he would have to lie, something Cass likes to take exception to.
Cass shuddered, “I’m assure none of that is necessary, I’ll be on my way now.”
“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t let you go in there without a full name. It’s just so that we don’t have any John Doe.”
Cass hesitated, he questioned if he should really say it, “My name is Castiel, I’m an angel of the—“
“Castiel Winchester!” Dean interrupted, swallowing his discomfort, “His name is Castiel Winchester.”
It didn’t take too long for Dean to register what he had said. He was a bit tongue-tied, wishing the earth would just swallow him up right then and there. Dean was clashing with his thoughts. What was he thinking? He should have just chose one of his old names, like Jimmy, or Steve, or even Emmanuel. Actually, bad idea, that brings back horrendous memories. Besides, Castiel Winchester doesn’t sound too bad either.
On the other hand, Cass had a completely different reaction to this. Cass was dumbfounded, he had so many questions because of this one little action. Is this what Dean thought of him, part of the Winchester family? Just when Cass started to feel forgotten, he was thrown back into the fiery pit. Plus, Castiel Winchester, it does kind of roll off the tongue in its own kind of way.
An endless, uncomfortable pause filled the room, the manager looked lost at sea. Whatever these two were trying to do didn’t seem to be good. Sam rolled his eyes so far back he could almost see his brain. The manager looked around the room looking for the nearest exit, just incase, and steadily raised an eyebrow. Returning back to his paper, he draught down Castiel Winchester - possible psychopath.
As Sam, Dean, and Cass immediately left the embarrassing scene, their strides fell into place with one another. They appeared to be equally powerful as electrified for this dominating event. The Winchester’s take laser tag very seriously. This was a matter of humiliation or bragging rights, no in between. Fighting over what side Cass was on was all an act, once the countdown begins it’s every man for themselves.
The first and most important step to laser tag is finding your battle name. Next to the entrance into the hallway, they pulled up to the exasperated employer behind the desk, Sam went first. He went with Dean’s personal favorite, McJerkFace. Following up with the classic, 1967 Impala. Dean was real satisfied of himself for that one. Cass was the one to finish, even though this was a state of the art kind of thing. When Cass stepped away from the check-in his faced seemed to glow with pride, he was ready.
The employee had to stop them, “Umm, you forgot your choice of team or whatever.”
“BLUE…team,” Dean speedily clamored.
Sam looked a bit concerned for Dean, “I guess that leaves me with team red. Cass, are you with me?”
Cass wasn’t responding. He was still smiling though, he seemed to have something on his mind. He was lost in his own world, not really caring about what was going on right in front of him. For a minute, it was nice to see Cass grinning the way he does. It didn’t last long as Sam tried to snap him out of his chimera, Cass returned back to the “normal” world.
“Ah, sorry…red team sounds fine, Sam.” He sounded.
The employee spoke one last time before scoffing, acting like she had something better to do, “So, one blue and two reds?”
“Yes, that would be it,” Dean pronounced, holding back every jitter in his body.
For some reason, the employee took her sweet time on getting the beloved tickets Dean begged for. It was like she didn’t care, correction, she didn’t. Not once did her face change, it stayed it its spiteful position as she pretzeled down to grab the tickets. When she shifted back to the top, she shuffled through the tickets one last time before handing them out.
Moving on to the next section of the arcade, they paced towards a room at the border of the hall. The door slammed open as Dean walked into the area making a grand entrance, flinging his arms wide and laughing to himself. At that point in time, Cass knew this was the day for celebration.
When they stepped into the cramped area, they began to comprehend that a lot of others had the same idea as them. Adults somewhere in their mid-thirties were unintentionally huddled into separate groups, talking amongst themselves. It felt like lunch in middle school where every kid sat at distinct tables, like the table for the jocks, the nerds, and the oh-so-popular kids. All the childhood memories were coming back. Instantly, the tension broke as the speaker screeched and scratched.
“All right, I would like to have your attention as I call out the names for each team.” The voice above seemed so emotionless that it was almost robotic. “The blue team equipment will be on your left side. Here are the names: Princess Leia, 5138008, Marzipan, Yodeling Yoda, and 1967 Impala.”
Dean was splendidly proud of his battle name, yet the others he was kind of worried for. Were these really the people on his team? Dean couldn’t think about this anymore for he was too distracted by the army vest and laser guns. He rushed to grab one before it was too late, these things were too pretty to pass up on. When Dean was handed his vest, his forearms dropped because he underestimated the weight of the heavy-duty army vest. Dean soon became distracted once again as the loud speaker called out.
“The next team is red team, equipment on the right. Here is the second list of names: Leo the Lion, McJerkFace,” Dean threw his head back puffing out a small laugh. “Snow Queen III, Graham Young, and lastly, Castiel Winchester.”
Dean’s thoughts strung out at that last name. Was that why Cass was smiling so quietly? How is it that just a name can bring so much joy to one? Dean underestimated this as well. It was nice to see Cass so fixated on being part of the family. I mean, what the hell, Dean has always wanted an older brother.