#lexiathan

(fair warning i just stumbled upon a SHITTON of unfilled prompts as i was going through my askbox so here we gooooooo)

———

The look with which Sam levels Gabriel could have probably toppled terrorism better than anything Gabriel created, and that’s kind of impressive.

Gabriel just wishes it was aimed at them instead of at him.

"I’m allergic to strawberries," Sam informs him flatly, and Gabriel thinks he might have actually known that. But the basket of strawberries he’d over-eagerly offered to Sam in a gesture of peace — or something — begs to differ.

Why.

He's supposed to be a musician. He's known that since he was a kid. No one's ever told him that, per say, but it's just expected. Dad used to be a country singer and now he's a producer. Mom's a classical cellist. Dean's a musical genius and can play anything put into his hands. As for Sam? He's plunked away at a piano and picked up a guitar once or twice. There's no question that he can do it. 

But he doesn't want to.

This is quite the monumental discovery to come to at twelve years old, when you thought you were going to do one thing with your life and suddenly realised you didn't want that. Then again, Sam's never been as into music as the rest of his family. Dean had been playing since he could talk, practically but Sam had never been as interested in the instruments. Instead he liked reading books about lizards or dinosaurs, novels about far away places, poring over maps and globes and learning about the world. He liked reading, learning, processing information. Creating art and music just wasn't his thing.

He's not sure exactly when he decides that he wants to be a lawyer but it happens pretty soon after his realisation that he doesn't want to be a musician. Maybe it was the fact that he was reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Maybe it was that Law and Order marathon he was watching on TV. Either way, Sam realises how much he's getting caught up in the idea of defending people, of trying to make sure criminals go to jail and good people see justice done.

He doesn't want to tell his parents. He doesn't want to disappoint everyone by saying that he's not going to pursue what seems to be the family business. He's afraid, in his own still somewhat childish mind, that they'll think less of him, that they won't love him as much.

A gold wrapped Werthers candy hits him in the nose and pulls him out of his dark thoughts and he makes a face as he picks it up. Gabe, Dean's sixteen year old best friend who might as well be Sam's other older brother, grins at him.

"Lookin' too serious over there, kiddo. Thought you needed lightening up. Keep the candy, too. Plenty where that came from." As if to demonstrate, Gabriel reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of the candies and unwraps one before popping it into his mouth.

Sam gives a long suffering sigh but unwraps his candy. He sucks on it thoughtfully for a moment. "I want to be a lawyer."

It's blurted out before he even thinks about it and blinks, surprised at himself. Gabe's eyebrows go up a little but he shrugs, lacing his fingers behind his head. "So be one. What's stopping you?"

Sam stares at him like he's grown a second head. "Well...my family for one. Mom and Dad and Dean are all-"

He doesn't get to go any further before he's cut off by Gabriel's loud (and rude) scoffing sound, which is closely followed by a chuckle Sam does not at all appreciate. He scowls at the older boy. "What?"

"Your family's not a problem. Dean couldn't be more proud of you if you became the President and you could decide you wanted to peddle tin pots on the street and your parents would support you. Trust me on this, kiddo. You've got nothin' to worry about."

Sam considers for a moment. "You're sure?" Maybe Gabriel's right. Maybe telling his family he doesn't want to do music won't be a big deal after all.

"Hundred percent." Gabe assures him, amber eyes lifting from Sam to Dean who just entered the room. "Sammy here wants to be a lawyer. What do you think?"

Sam nearly chokes and stares wide eyed at his brother. The older Winchester only raises his eyebrows. "Really? Get used to life in monkey suits, then." With no more reaction than that, Dean flops down on the couch beside Sam and steals a handful of candies from Gabriel who, predictably protests overdramatically.

They knew it was going to happen, sooner or later. They'd managed to get away with spending a lot of time together, with Dean only going away for small local tours for a couple weeks at a time. But the label wouldn't stand for that forever, and finally, they set Dean up with his next tour dates. It's a North American tour and he'll be gone for seven months.

Seven. Months.

Cas is not happy when Dean breaks the news. "Seven months." He repeats, that coldness Dean hates creeping into his tone. The musician sighs.

"Yeah. I know it sucks, believe me. I could fly you out to see me whenever you want though?" Dean tries to soften the blow with the offer, knowing that Cas is fine with planes where as he himself isn't. Not to mention he doesn't expect Cas to come with him, no way. He'd be so busy anyway that there'd be no point. But he could make time to see him for periods of a couple days, at least.

Blue eyes narrow at him and Dean can see him closing off fast. He needs to stop that from happening so he grabs Cas' wrist and pulls him closer. "C'mon babe. I don't leave for a couple weeks. Don't be mad at me that whole time."

Cas is clearly trying to fight it but Dean's gentle tone is clearly softening him and he doesn't pull away, brings a hand up to rest it against Dean's shoulder and leans into him slightly. He's afraid, really. That being away from him for so long, being around so many people who would willingly throw themselves at him, that Dean will lose interest, will find someone better suited to him. They've been through so much together but it's still a latent fear in the back of Cas' mind and he can't lose Dean again. He wouldn't survive it.

As if reading his mind, Dean cups his face and presses their foreheads together. "I'm gonna miss you so damn much." His thumb brushes over Castiel's cheek. "We'll have to talk all the time. And email. And you'll come out to see me a few times at least, right? I'm gonna go crazy if I can't see you for that long."

Cas' eyes close and he leans into the touch, soothed by the words. He needs only to look into those green eyes to tell how much Dean loves him and he should be comforted by that, is comforted by that. The thought of being apart for so long though is still a hard one to face. As usual, however, Dean's managed to thaw the ice before it could creep up, get in behind his walls and make him feel even moderately better.

"I'll come see you." He opens his eyes and gives Dean a hard look. "I'll have to, to remind all those adoring fans just who you belong to."

Dean grins and chuckles, wrapping his arms around him. "Damn straight you will."

Dean's in trouble. He's got his back against some dingy warehouse wall, leaning against it more than he's willing to admit since the half a dozen injuries he's bleeding from are making him feel pretty unsteady on his feet. That would be bad enough but to make things worse, he's been cut off from Sam and there's five hungry vampires staring him down. With his left arm tucked in against his body since the shoulder's popped out of joint, the only good thing about this whole mess is the machete he's gripping tightly in his right hand.

He knows it won't save his life, but hell, he figures he can chop at least a couple heads off before they overwhelm and eat him. One of them takes a step forward and Dean raises his machete warningly, staring him down as if daring him to take another step. 

"Back away from him."

The voice is commanding, low and gravelly and Dean blinks, glancing in the direction it came from. The vamps turn and one of them snarls. "Castiel. You can't keep him all to yourself."

A figure strides into view, tan trenchcoat billowing out slightly with the speed at which he's moving and presumably it's Castiel. He gives the vampire who spoke a stern look. "I can and will. You will not touch him. Now all of you, go." He gives orders easily, so easily and maybe Dean's sunken into some kind of blood loss induced haze but he could swear that the other vampires flinch a little. They hiss and grumble but actually do what they're told and slink away. Soon enough, the area's cleared and Castiel stands before him, regarding him with the blueest eyes the hunter's ever seen. But Dean's by no means relaxed.

"Shouldn't have sent the cronies away. Five might have been tough, but one of you? Even half dead I can still handle one of you." All bravado since he doesn't trust this Castiel, even if he had just apparently saved him. If it was just so he could feast on him alone, that wasn't really much of a save.

The vampire sighs slightly, looking at Dean before those eyes move down where the blood has soaked through his T-shirt from the gash on his chest. He stares, as if mesmerized and Dean adjusts his grip on the machete. Oh no, this guy was no saviour.

"I mean you no harm, Dean Winchester."

The hunter blinks, stunned for a moment that this vampire knows his name. He recovers quickly, figuring word about him and Sam had probably gotten out and narrows green eyes. "Oh really? Your fangs say you wanna chomp on me just like they did."

Sure enough, that second set of teeth has descended, protruding from underneath chapped lips and giving the lie to everything this Castiel is saying.

"You're bleeding. I can't help it. But I have no intention of..." He takes a step forward, another, still staring at Dean's chest. "...hurting you." He finishes in a low rumble, just as Dean lifts the machete and places it against his neck.

"Bullshit."

Those blue eyes lift and lock with Dean's green and the hunter sees sincerity there and an apology of sorts. He doesn't flinch away from the machete against his skin or make any move to deflect it, just bores into Dean with those fucking eyes of his.

"If you really thought that, you would have killed me already." He's talking way too calmly for a vamp with a blade against his neck and he doesn't blink. The words are a little strange since he's still talking with that mouthful of fangs and damn if that isn't disconcerting but in spite of that, somehow he still manages to be sincere. And right. Only Dean doesn't know why the hell he hasn't just hacked his head off yet. 

"I'd hate to ruin my shoes." He snarks because he has nothing else to draw on and why does he keep noticing how blue the vampire's eyes are? He should be focusing on the fangs and the fact that he's way too close to him and he should just swing the machete and be done with it. But he doesn't. For some damn reason, he doesn't.

Castiel doesn't respond, merely stares for a moment longer and slowly those fangs even retract and he looks like a normal person again. As normal as someone who carries himself with that much power and confidence can look, anyway.

"Your brother is near." He doesn't even turn his head as he says it, and he still hasn't blinked. "Remember this, Dean." He lifts a hand and wraps long fingers around Dean's wrist, finally pushing the blade away from his throat. "Remember that a vampire saved your life." That gravelly voice is too husky, too low, too damn intense and Dean swallows without knowing why. Then those fingers have let him go and Castiel's stepped back, making it easier for Dean to breathe again. With one last look, the vampire stalks away and just seconds after he's disappeared, Sam comes running in. Dean's still watching the place where the vampire melted into the shadows even as his brother approaches, wondering what the hell that was.

ARE YOU THERE

I NEED YOUR INPUT ON SOMETHING

WHEN YOU'RE ONLINE

EVENTUALLY

OK

&

SAM

IF YOU'RE LISTENING

I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU TOO 

SO MSG ME

MAYBE

They're hanging out, as they so often are, in Dean's room. Gabriel's sprawled on the bed as if he owns it, on his back with his head hanging off the foot of it and looking at Dean upside down. For his part, Dean's sitting in his computer chair which is tipped back so far it's a miracle he's not falling over, feet propped up on the desk. He takes the last toke of the joint they'd been sharing and blows the smoke towards the open window.

"What about Blue Eyes?"

Dean snorts at the suggestion. "Everyone'll think we're talking about Frank Sinatra. We need something else."

They were, of course, talking about what they were going to call Cas when they talked about him at school. It had only been a week or so since Dean and Cas had started their friends with benefits thing and it wasn't something they wanted the whole school to know about. Inevitably they'd end up talking about the other boy at school, though, so they needed to come up with some kind of code name.

"It's not like you've thrown out any brilliant suggestions, Deano."

Gabe had a point there. Dean hadn't really come up with much, though the other boy had been firing off suggestions left and right, from serious to out right ridiculous. But at least he'd been coming up with ideas. Tilting his head back, Dean stared up at the ceiling, trying to think through the relaxed haze the marijuana had settled him into. A code name for Cas, something that would fit but wouldn't be obvious...

"His eyes are really fuckin' blue. You've looked at 'em, right?" Not really what he meant to say but apparently that's where his mind went.

Something that was half a groan and half a chuckle escaped Gabriel's throat. "If you start waxing poetic about him, I'm leaving. Or throwing a pillow at you. Probably the second one because it takes less energy."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Just saying. Blue like cerulean. Like an ocean or something. The kind of blue that's probably only supposed to be seen by like, angels or something. I mean-"

He was cut off by the pillow that suddenly collided with his face, off balancing his precarious perch on the desk chair and sending him crashing to the ground. He sat in a stunned heap on the ground for a moment, legs tangled up in the chair before he started laughing and flopped back against the floor. The pillow was nearby so he pulled it towards him and set it under his head, only vaguely registering Gabriel's amused comment that he'd warned him. Untangling himself from the chair, he stared up at the ceiling again, still chuckling slightly before it came to him.

"Hey, I've got it. Angel. That's what we'll call him. Angel."

He could practically feel Gabriel's eye roll. "Because that's not sappy. But sure, whatever you say man."