Winchesters: As long as they're alive there's hope

Excerpt: “I started brewing a couple years ago,” Dean explains. He kneels down to pull out the keg a little bit so Charlie can take a look. “Sam — my brother — said I was spending too much time here and convinced me I needed a hobby. I don’t have a license to sell it, not yet at least, but some of the regulars like to try it.”  “Some of the regulars allow themselves to be the guinea pigs for your mad scientist experiments,” someone corrects dryly from above him. Dean stands back up, although he doesn’t need to make eye contact to recognize the owner of the voice. “Hello, Dean,” Castiel says. “Hey, Cas,” Dean says, filling another tasting glass and handing it to him. Cas raises the glass to his face and sniffs it before taking a small sip.  He nods. “It’s good.” “But?” Dean probes.  Castiel thinks for a moment and then shakes his head. “No, it’s good,” he answers. “It just tastes a little… early?”  “Ah,” Dean says, relieved. “Yeah, it is. Probably needs another week or so, but Charlie asked — this is Charlie, by the way,” he interrupts himself, gesturing to his new bartender.  “Hello,” Cas says, and Charlie gives him a wave. Cas orders a beer, and before he goes over to a table by the window, says, “You still haven’t chosen a movie for tomorrow, Dean.”  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get back to you,” Dean says, “Or we can just watch Tombstone again.” He thinks he catches Cas rolling his eyes as he turns away from the bar.  “Ooh, date night?” Charlie asks.  “Ha,” Dean says, halfway between a word and a cough. “Cas is just a friend.”  Charlie replies, “Do you want to try that again and see if you can make it sound believable this time?”  Dean indulges her. “Cas is just a friend with some large gaps in his pop culture knowledge.”  “Uh-huh,” Charlie says. “I’ve read that one in the playbook before. You fill some of his gaps, he fills some of yours—”  “You wanna get fired on your first day?” Dean asks her.  Charlie holds up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, boss,” she says. She turns away to serve a customer a gin and tonic and then glances over to where Cas has ensconced himself in one of the booths that line the side of the bar and set a notebook and bulging file folder on the table next to his beer.  “Really though, nothing?” She asks, looking back at Dean. “Even I can see he’s gorgeous.”  Dean can’t help but chuckle at that, even as he rolls his eyes. This time it’s his turn to look at Cas. The sun is setting outside and a few rays are shining through the window of the bar, catching Cas across the face as he looks down at his research.  He must stare for a moment too long because Charlie makes a “hmm,” noise that can only be described as ‘knowing.’ 

Excerpt: Dean starts climbing and Castiel waits for him to be about halfway up before he flaps his wings twice and jumps to the branch. “Hey no fair!” Dean calls after him, “I forgot you could fly. Flying is cheating.” “You didn’t specify no flying when you made the rules,” Castiel calls back laughing from his perch on the branch.  Castiel watches Dean climb the rest of the way up, his muscles stretching and coiling under the skin of his arms. He’s strong and lithe, graceful and sure of his movements in a way that Castiel can only imitate in flight. On the ground, the calculated angular movements of an Angel make him look robotic in comparison. He is unnatural where Dean is at home, as a true son of the Earth. And God took clay from Earth’s four corners and gave it the breath of life. Man is better than angel. Created for more than just the divine. Their perfect imperfections leave room for beauty. When Dean gets up to the branch he’s huffing with exertion. There’s sweat on his brow where his hair sticks to his forehead, and his cheeks are bright red around his freckles. The flush brings out the green in his eyes.  “Cheater,” Dean accuses when he sees Castiel’s cocky grin. He reaches out and gives Castiel a light shove.  Castiel moves exaggeratedly with the shove, and falls sideways off the tree branch.  “Cas!” Dean yells in alarm before he realizes that Castiel is simply floating in the air slightly under the branch with one leg still hooked over it. “Gonna give me a heart attack,.” Dean grumbles.  Castiel laughs and uses his wings to right himself so he’s sitting on the branch again. He straddles it, facing Dean.  “Would you like to race back down?” he says with a cheeky grin.  “No,” Dean pouts, crossing his arms “You’d probably just jump, Mister I-Can-Survive-a-Tornado.” Castiel laughs boisterously, and it seems his laugh is contagious because Dean starts laughing as well. They both smile, looking at each other. The sun dapples Dean’s skin with patches of light through the leaves.  Castiel walks with the brothers back to the nearby motel they’re staying at. Dean is in an uncharacteristically carefree mood, skipping and chattering on like the first time Castiel met him. When they reach the motel, Dean’s face falls as he looks at a big black car parked outside their room. He picks up Sam and turns towards Cas frowning.  “You gotta go home now, Cas, but we can watch Scooby Doo another day, okay?” he says. Castiel is confused but agrees and flies away.  The next time he sees the Winchester brothers, Dean has a black eye. He won’t tell Castiel where it’s from.