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[ STOPS

MID-PACE

ON A DIME ]

I like fire.

[ Babe please don't say sike. He needs this. ]

We need to be strategic with it. [Somewhere back in town Sam is taken with full body shivers that he thinks are due to the fever breaking.] Druids are also fiercely protective of nature. If we threaten it enough, the druid may reveal itself and attack us.

[ Sam needs to understand that this is for the greater good. And also for enrichment, but nobody needs to know that. Since they're going to be strategic with it.

Semi-suicidal plans? In this relationship? It's more likely than you think. Dean is itching to channel some aggression through destruction. All sympathies and respect to the squirrels out here, that is. ]

Lucky for us, a little strategic arson is in every hunter's playbook. [ Page one of the playbook, in fact. ] So what, set a few going, lure Treebeard out into the open, gank 'em? Without, [ he must emphasize, ] another round of angel arrows to the face.

[ In an ideal world, it would be that simple. Luckily Dean has already remembered that there's no such thing as simple. He's blue-skying right now is all. Remembering the best-case scenario he's aiming for. ]

We follow this creek to a larger source first, [Cas argues, because if they're going to start a forest fire, they're going to have a lake nearby for Dean to get into so he doesn't burn to death if the flames escape their control.]

Edited 2025-11-12 00:23 (UTC)

[ If Dean was already crouching down to scrape some leaves and twigs together and scope out the burnability around here, that's between him and...... Cas, technically.

He can finally get this old receipt and a couple crumpled-up napkins out of his life forever by using them to save the forest. By... saving the rest of the forest rangers who might be on the sacrifice target list. Who are then gonna help save the forest from whatever damage they're about to do. Not much, hopefully. ]

What, you want more open ground for this guy?

[ Not an argument in the strictest sense. More like "I mean, I guess I can do that as long as we're still doing this, but water's water." ]

[Maybe they were just made to argue with each other even when they agree.] And if this entire clearing goes up in flames? You think that little trickle will keep you alive? [Keep my big brother safe.] We find a pond first. [I'm begging you.]

Ohh, c'mon with that crap, Cas. Smoke inhalation'll get me way before I have to worry about catching on fire.

[ Dean then forges on like the stubborn bulldog he is, because he realized towards the end of that sentence that it probably doesn't help. If he doesn't continue he's just setting up karma to fall in a pungee pit or something. ]

Look, we're gonna kick this thing in the ass before any of it's even a factor!

[Pissed off that Dean's ignoring him and pissed off that Dean's probably right because Cas had forgotten that humans can't breathe in smoke for too long, Cas contemplates kicking wet dirt onto Dean's little tinder pile to be petty.] You're just being reckless because you're impatient. We can walk half a mile upstream.

I'm always impatient, it's part of my goddamn charm! [ He lies, like a lying liar. What even is this! Now his arson placement judgement isn't good enough??? And other such dramatic bitchy thoughts with no long-term heat to them.

Dean abandons his dumb tinder pile momentarily to point. J'accuse. ] Sammy preemptively outvoted me on everything, didn't he?

Sam only asked me to keep you safe, after I've already failed. [Throws a hand in the direction of Dean's wounded shoulder, pure frustration rolling off of him like water on a raincoat.] If I have to be incapable of healing your wounds, you could at least let me try to prevent them.

Alright-- [ There's probably some stuff to unpack here. But Dean's been living out of a suitcase since he was four, so there's no guarantee he'll manage it. ]

Let's get this cleared up right now. 'cause I know you feel bad about your angel mojo situation, but this is not the hill to die on, Cas.

[ Look, see, he's walking over properly and everything. ]

One, you didn't fail anything. My head wasn't in the game, I should've known better, I got myself shot. And you know what? Still here. Crap happens, buddy. [ He gestures to their general surroundings. This is just some of the crap. The crap that's happened. ] Two, it's nobody's job to keep me safe. Not yours. Not Sam's. You watch my back, I'll watch yours, that's plenty to go around.

[ And the same is not true for him because it actually is his job to keep the last little scraps of people he cares about safe, and he's the one that keeps fucking up at it. Goes without saying. Thank you. ]

Three-- [ VERY important, three- ] If we don't find a pond when we get a half-mile out, I'm lighting it up anyway.

[ Cas can have one concession because Dean loves him and is so generous and mature. Wow. ]

[Dean swaggers up to him and Castiel digs within the well of affection he has for the man, ever present as it is, to keep himself from automatically ignoring everything coming out of his mouth out of spite.

This is the problem with the two of them. Dean is, without a doubt, the greatest and most loyal friend Castiel has ever had in his entire life, and one of the most loving people to ever exist besides, but they are fundamentally different species. It makes everything from communication to discerning intent a fucking nightmare, to put it plainly, and now is one of those times because Dean looks as if he's explaining extremely simple concepts to a small child and Castiel is trying to derail the train of thought that chugs along to the tune of Why don't you get it, why don't you get it?

"I know you feel bad about your angel mojo situation," like Castiel didn't bring this upon himself by destroying his family and his home and then fleeing from it like a coward. "You didn't fail anything," like Castiel isn't a creature capable of spreading out his senses like water, half-occupying an area with a radius of five hundred feet to pinpoint every movement, hear every breath, catch every scent. Dean's head wasn't in the game? Castiel's entire being had checked out. "It's nobody's job to keep me safe," like Dean isn't all of the best things about humanity that God commanded the angels to love. Four hundred million years of watching and waiting, for these few scant years spent in the bubble of warmth given off by one Dean Winchester, and he thinks that it's not Castiel's job to look after him.

Even more than that, he chose this job, against Heaven's will. Like he's not going to take that gunshot wound personally.

-but Dean caves. Or at least, that's how Castiel's going to choose to see it. He'll walk with Cas to look for a better spot, possibly because between the two of them, despite all outward appearances, Dean is actually the more reasonable person here and Castiel is the fucking insane lunatic creature who will go to truly unhinged lengths to get what he wants. Which, given what he wants is Dean alive and well, he doesn't find to be too unreasonable after all.]

Fine.

[All of that, summed up to 'fine.' Don't worry, there's a chaser.] But if you die in this forest fire, I will kill the Reaper that comes for you and will pour out my Grace into the ground to raise you back up. [So be prepared for THAT, bucko.

And since that's not up for debate, Cas will whirl dramatically and start stalking his way upstream.]

Edited 2025-11-12 04:41 (UTC)

[ Dean reminds himself, not for the first time or for the last, that there's only so long and so many times you can say "you have no idea how much I missed this" once you get someone back. Like, before it's just weird to say anything. Every morning he wakes up and puts the sentiment in a professional sleeper hold, because that's what he does with most of his sentiments. It's part of the gig.

Damn, he did, though. He missed this. He lets himself have this surge of weirdly-timed affection about it while no one's actively trying to murder them again. Before his brain can sour it somehow. ]

Well if it's that easy, [ he says to basically nothing because Cas is already whirling off like a drama queen and Dean has to very coolly stumble into following him. (If a man tries to clap back in a forest and no one hears it, does it really make a sound?)

And look, Dean will maintain it's no one's job to keep him safe or take care of him for the rest of his life probably. Them's the breaks. As close as he gets to making peace with anything, he did that a long while back.

But it's not like it's not nice to hear it from Sam or from Cas or-- anyone. Once in a while. It's nice to hear. It's nice that they... try or whatever. That sentiment just has to get escalated from a sleeper hold to a bare-handed crushing for the purposes of living in reality, is all. ]

You're one stubborn sonofabitch, you know that?

[ Normal things to sound all fond and like you're gonna write about in your diary with glitter gel pens later. Girl..... get UP. ]

I've been told. [Tone flatter than the flattest object on Earth. The irritatingly obvious affection in Dean's voice does not go unnoticed and it makes him feel conflicting things. One emotion at a time is confusing enough.

Dean stumbles again and Cas turns, holds out a palm towards the ground and- yes. Uses his grace like a flashlight. Like Dean probably doesn't have one in his pocket like usual. Shut up, leave him alone, let him be helpful.]

[ Even when he's in a snit he turns to help Dean out. You get up too Cas. But don't actually. Dean doesn't deserve it, but he's selfish enough to keep on enjoying that special Castiel quality while it lasts.

And if it might help Cas out with that all-too-familiar "if I can't do anything that feels useful I will die" feeling... fine, that's a bonus. Because getting the usefulness thing outta Cas's thick-ass angelic skull is gonna take a lot more time and work than they have right now.

Grace lights it up a little sharper anyway. Dean's starting to wonder if he even is the weirdo loyal knight right now. Dammit. ]

What can I say, I call 'em like I see 'em. [ Anger issues mcgee. ] I should probably shuffle "Backdraft" down the movie night list after this, huh?

[ Even though it's awesome. Like really awesome. ]

[Gives him the most exhausted look] ...I don't know, [because he has no idea what that's about. He has seen 3 Looney Toons, a pornography about pizza, and that's it.]

[ Dean counters with: his least exhausted, most annoying look. ]

Well, it's about badass firefighters, so. [ Wiggles lighter in the air for emphasis. ] We might need to plant some trees before we earn that one back.

[ A little joke. As a treat. ]

[Once again reminded that one of Dean's favorite activities is to just park Cas, Sam, and himself in front of a television set or Sam's laptop for an hour or two. He still doesn't get it.]

Hopefully we won't need to burn much for the druid to show itself. [Because it really is a pity. If it wasn't a matter of survival, Cas wouldn't have suggested it. Humans so rarely rally to protect the pieces of the Earth that don't directly benefit them, it feels almost cruel to destroy one.

Unfortunately for them, half a mile isn't very far and the creek doesn't open up into a pool of any significance. Cas still tries to get Dean to walk further by distracting him, asking about what other movies have firefighters, but that's not going to work for long if it does at all.]

[ Well maybe one day he will get it. Or he won't. He's a movie night hostage regardless. ]

Yeah, hopefully. No one wants to eighty-six Chip and Dale for some psycho druid. [ Psycho because they are one, or like just psycho in general? Why not both?

For whatever it's worth to Cas, the distraction tactic does in fact work for a bit. Not as well as, say, old cowboy movies or Die Hard would've worked. But it works some. ]

-- I mean c'mon, man, Steve McQueen, Faye Dunaway, star power for days. Great movie. Awesome movie. It's a ten. Sam tries to say it's trashy 'cause Sam's got bad taste and he likes to piss me off, alright? And he's wrong!

[ It's formative. The Towering Inferno is formative! Possibly just to Dean Winchester and his distant dreams of being a firefighter once upon a time. ]

It was '74, Sammy, of course the effects were gonna-- [ verbal keysmash. ] I'm not even gonna talk about it. Not even worth arguing about, that's how wrong that little geek is.

[ HUFFS. HUFFS!!!!!

...

........ ]

Cas.

There's a pond about a hundred feet up ahead, [Cas says in what he thinks is a very unassuming and sneaky manner, like he just so happened to notice and isn't trying to fend off some accusations of trickery]

Edited 2025-11-12 17:16 (UTC)

[ The audacity. The nerve. Dean bets Cas is soooo proud of himself, too.

Dean's been had. He's been bamboozled. He's been manipulated. ]

What's with this nefarious bullcrap? [ Nefariously wanting to have more resources to keep Dean from dying if things go bad!

Okay fine the reasons weren't actually nefarious. But if Dean says that, he loses. Good intent. Nefarious practices! ] Were you even listening or are you just into using my movie reviews to get what you want now? 'cause I don't have to put up with that.

[ "Don't ramble to Cas about your favorite little pop cultures at slightest provocation (challenge level: impossible but we're not gonna admit that)." ]

[Oh no did the middle aged human get taken in by the spanner-in-the-works master strategist who has been running enemy diversionary tactics for longer than some stars have been alive]

San Francisco, the Glass Tower, electrical fire. Critically acclaimed for its time.

[And, because he wants Dean placated these last fifty feet but also -and more importantly- because he means it, with every particle of his being:] I'm always listening when you speak to me, Dean.

[ Tricked like a common doofus. It's just plain shameful.

If Dean feels a way about that. The I'm always listening when you speak to me. All easy and sincere. Some combination of feeling, good and bad and soft and ugly and fond and bitter and writhing around behind his ribcage-- why but also do you, though? really? I can think of a few times you clearly weren't and it got me a front-row seat to living nightmare territory--

If he feels any kind of way about that, no he doesn't. There's too much of it to go around and he doesn't wanna deal with any of it because they're still having fun out here. For a given definition of fun. So he works his jaw, and he grinds it down with the heel of his metaphorical boot, and he makes himself have fun while they can. ]

Likely story. Tell it to the pop quiz later. [ Gottem. He regards the stupid pond as he strolls past it. ] Ten bucks says I get salmonella if I gotta end up in there.

[ And that would be the dumbest possible way to go.

It's fine. No one can stop him from making his little tinder piles now! He refuses. They're on a tight timeline. ]

[And that would be where the inter-species communication starts to breaks down. The conflict shows at the corners of Dean's mouth and Castiel is reminded of a dark night in Bobby's house with incorrect angel-proofing on the windows, when that why doesn't he get it train had been screaming down its tracks, when Dean looked both like a savior and his own personal hell telling Cas trust me, just trust me, and all Castiel could think about was just days ago, Crowley's men, two punches away from caving in all their skulls. The difference between I'm an angel and you're just a man and they'll have to go through me to get to you so miniscule in his own mind, but the gap between he and Dean large enough for the wind to whistle through, cold. Dean, with his ever burning faith in himself and his brother and Bobby and humanity and then Cas, with the fragility of men everyone considered immortal, dying choked on their own blood. Neither of them able to say what they mean.

Maybe they'll figure it out someday.

Not today, though. Which is smart of Dean, given the amount of other shit they're currently dealing with. Castiel, satisfied with more water nearby, stands aside and sharply watchful, blade sliding from his sleeve with the barest hint of noise while Dean stoops to tend to the embers. It's a little damp here by the pond, but it hasn't rained in days and it's mid-fall with leaf litter. The flames will catch quickly.

It isn't until some nearby underbrush has also caught fire that there's that sharp glass-strike ping of magic, and a heavily bearded man with wild, horrified eyes steps out from between some trees, looking as if he's dressed in a ghillie suit with a crossbow trained on Castiel and a gun on Dean.]

[ There is no stronger communication than the unspoken agreement that today, right now, is absolutely not the time to learn communicating.

Fires to start. People to save. Things to kill. Angels to defend to Dean's last scraped-out breath, whenever that may be. Including from, uh. Bargain bin Navy SEAL over there, he guesses. ]

Look who got the invite! You bring those marshmallows?

[ Eyes on him pal, he is cool and annoying and doesn't give any fucks about nature oooooooooh.

It's cool if he shoots at this guy though, right. Don't answer that, he's already trying to do it. It feels like shooting doesn't work the way it used to anymore, but if Dean lets that stop him from trying, he'll never try anything. Why did he even bring a regular gun to what they thought was a witch fight, you may be asking?

Literally why not? In what world does he ever not have at least one gun and one knife on his person just in case they can kill something? ]

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angel radio inundated with cas chanting I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM while dean yaps

doomed by the narrative (to fall for a yapper)

those are some of his best features (his yappings)

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boutta be like "the rammies bro......"