The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun

Chapter 13: Thee Death Winshiesty

Rowena has turned the bunker into her own, with stacks of books littering the table in the library where she spends hours translating the book. Sam makes a comment to Dean about how they didn't even have to chain her up to get her to do it, and Dean gives him an incredulous look. You had to be there, Sam explains away, and Dean shakes his head.

They spend most of their time looking into new ways to fix The Empty, and come up with mostly jack and a little squat. Rowena devours The Book of the Cursed and says that the spell she found is the only one that will work for The Empty.

When they get bored of dead ends and finding nothing, they look into Lucifer. It seems that human Chuck has been missing for several weeks now, and it's only a matter of time before their old spineless God bites the dust and Lucifer's warpath will begin. It's worrisome, but Cas agrees with Sam's theory that it might take years for Lucifer to get bored with torturing and killing Chuck over and over again. They have time. Limited time, sure, but time nonetheless.

They seesaw between looking into ways to fix The Empty and ways to kill the devil, and when Dean gets so bored he wants to slam his head against the table, he hunts.

He takes a case in Omaha, a rugaru hitting hospital after hospital to feed on sick patients until they were all dried up. When that's over he hunts a werewolf in Ohio. Sam calls him while Dean's cleaning himself with wet napkins at a gas station and asks him if he still wants to do a family Thanksgiving in two days. Dean grunts and says he already ordered a turkey from the store in Lebanon, of course they're still doing Thanksgiving.

Sam asks him if he's talked to Cas at all. Dean asks him what the fuck he thinks.

One might assume that time would make Dean softer on Cas, but that's not the case. No, he's been avoiding Cas for the better chuck of time he's at the bunker. Avoidance is Dean's best skill, something he's honed since he was a teenager in tight quarters with a clingy, snot-nosed kid he was trying to raise while also raising himself. Though Dean can hide and evade like the best of them, it's shockingly easy in the bunker. For a while, Dean doesn't think about how easy it is, until he goes about his usual routine, and doesn't even run into Cas or get a peek of him–and then it occurs to Dean that Cas must also be avoiding him. That really pisses Dean off. What pisses Dean off even more, is that he now realizes what it must be like to be Sam for the better part of their miserable lives, dealing with Dean when he's actively trying to hide. Not so fun when it's happening to him.

Back at the bunker, Dean washes the road from his skin, letting the bunker's water pressure take him away and work at the sore muscles in his back. He's not his younger self, and his knee fuckin hurts again from when the werewolf threw him against a marble countertop, not to mention the dried blood crusted at the back of his neck from when his head smacked against the hard stone.

Towel thrown over his head, sweats and his Metallica shirt on, Dean limps slightly as he walks down the hall to his room. It's not a horrible limp, he's not that dramatic, but he does favor his one leg a bit.

He turns the corner, and runs into Cas.

"Oomphf–!" Dean's breath catches in his throat, and he jumps back at the feeling of Cas's bare skin on him, because Cas isn't wearing a goddamn shirt. Dean's towel falls to the ground with a slightly damp thump.

Cas looks at him plainly. "Hello Dean."

Dean doesn't stare at him, or the tan skin and broad muscled shoulders that Dean's gripped with both hands and pressed kisses into. "Cas." He grunts in greeting. It's the first time he's spoken to Cas since their fight. Both of them being too stubborn to do anything but ignore each other. Dean bends down to pick up the towel, ignoring how his knee creaks and stiffens as he tries to bend it.