Anna nervously tapped her foot against the hard cold floor, digging her finger nails into the armrest of the chair. The prison visiting room wasn't very friendly. Water dripped rhythmically somewhere to the right, and a clock that was pinned to the wall ticked.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
She stared at a gravy stain on her hospital gown, attempting too hard to focus on something else than this.
This.
There was a man sitting in front of her, a man who looked hard and sad and desperate. He had scruff growing on his chin, and years of acting school told her that the way he carried himself and tremors of his hand were side effects of alcoholism.
Figures
There were guards waiting right there, she knew, in case he tried anything, but she also knew he wouldn’t. He didn't seem like the type to. The man finally spoke, and Anna kept her eyes pinned to the ground. She had agreed to go, but it was hard facing the man who had almost killed you and left you with a head injury to haunt you for the rest of your life.
“My name is John Winchester.”
Her head snapped up then, unable to resist. The redhead stared at the man in shock.
“John…Winchester?!”
Nononononono
It has to be a coincidence.
It’s a coincidence.
Right?
The criminal nodded.
“Dean’s father. I’ve met your brother.” A hint of bitter amusement passed in his eyes. “Nice boy.”
Anna took a deep breathe, glaring down at her knuckles that were turning white from clutching her hospital gown in an effort to contain herself. This was Dean’s dad, the person who she had grown to love as a brother. This was Sam’s dad, the cute kid who she had just met but had started to grow fond of. This was Cas's possible future father-in-law, and that piece of information sent her over the edge.
John saw her expression, and hurried talking on in a rush.
“Listen, girl, I set up this meeting to tell you how sorry I-”
Anna put up her hand- which took quite a big effort, mind you, considering- to silence him, and the Winchester father closed his mouth in an instant.
The Milton’s raging headache returned with a great intensity, and Anna heard herself groan in pain as she massaged her temples. John looked on in alarm, turning around to stare at the guards, who were standing, expressionless.
Don’t freak out
Don’t freak out
Find your chill, Anna
She glared daggers at him whilst in immense pain, driven over the edge by him. Just plain him.
She didn't want to see him. What was she thinking? Why had she agreed to come see him? Anna wasn’t ready to face him, and would never be.
A grunt emitted from her mouth as the 19 year old clenched her hand into a fist, thumping it onto the table. Her headache was pulsating now, through her head, her veins, her bones, her whole body. It was unbearable, and Anna let out something between a scream and a sob as John Winchester stood up, alarm. She faintly heard the guards run forward and one of the guards, the tall dark one, gently placed a hand on the small of her back, barely touching her fiery hair.
“Ma’m? Are you alright?”
Tears clouded her vision as she let out another hysterical sob, pointing at the repulsive man standing in front of her.
I will not punch him
I will not punch him
I will not punch him
She was dragged out of the room after giving the Winchester father a bloody nose, as he just stood there, shocked.
Anna never saw him again.
And who cares? She didn't want to.
May 2nd, 6:13:49 PM
Dean hummed tunelessly, feeling his soul mate’s fingers run through his hair. He was reading the last Harry Potter book with his head on Cas’s lap while Cas was staring at the ceiling, muttering something about pericardial effusion or whatever under his breath. Probably some doctor thing.
The soul mates were chilling at the Winchester house, something that they rarely did because they were always at the hospital, and Sam and Jess were sitting on the couch next to them, playing video games.
Dean’s long legs were resting on Jess’s lap, and moved whenever she turned to aggressively brutally murder an enemy in the game. The girl might’ve been all blonde, beautiful, and delicate looking, but she was fierce. She was the opposite of Dean’s little brother’s gentle and quiet nature. That’s probably why Sam loved her.
Cas turned to grin down at his boyfriend, and bent down to press a lazy kiss to his lips. Dean reciprocated thoughtlessly without taking his eyes off his book.
Brushing his boyfriend’s hair off his forehead and watching it fall backward, the Milton murmured, “We haven’t done this in forever.”
He was right. It had been roughly 3 weeks since Anna had woken up, and they had been going spending all their time at the hospital ever since. Even though ever since Anna had came back from meeting John, she refused to talk or do much, they still, along with Sam and even Jess after she found out, hovered over the redhead like worried over protective parents.
Anna had eventually gotten sick of them -honestly, who could blame her- and the Milton parents had kindly asked them to “get a life outside of Anna’s room please”, so they had come to hang out in the Winchester house. It felt good though, no complaints. Really good. It was great to have some time to themselves to do nothing and stress over nothing.
Dean sighed contently, taking Cas’s palm and pressing it to his own, comparing them. Dean’s hands were wider but shorter, his fingers stubbier than his boyfriend’s; Cas’s hands were long and thin, and he had fingers that piano players would die to have. The Milton smiled, more with his eyes than his mouth, when he saw what Dean was doing, intertwining his fingers into Dean’s and squeezing, and they both ignored the call of “Get a room you two!” by Sam.
Cas bent down so that Dean’s nose was almost touching his, and gave him a small smile. His blue orbs sparkled and shone in contrast to his pale face, making them even more noticeable and beautiful than they already were. Dean breathed out, “We should do this more often.”
“Mmmm…” Cas replied, studying Dean’s face. He did that a lot, and when the Winchester had asked him why he did, Cas had told him it was because he was trying to count his every freckle and whenever Dean got embarrassed and looked away, which was every time Cas looked at him for more than 10 seconds, he had to start over.
Jess laughed, breaking them out of their trance. Cas blinked rapidly, jerking his head up and turning to look at Jess, who was grinning widely at them.
“Aren’t y'all here because it’s Sam’s birthday? Y'all are just canoodling on the couch!” Jess said, laughing.
Dean shrugged, “We’re actually mostly here because Cas’s sister got sick of seeing our faces, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Sammy.”
He caught the controller Sam threw at him with one hand, giving him his shit-eating grin and throwing it back effortlessly. Attempting to make an effort to pay attention to the video game that his brother and girlfriend were playing, he got his head up from Cas’s lap, swinging his legs over to sit properly on the couch and stare at the TV screen.
It was some lame ass girly old racing game that involved two Italian brothers or something.
“Sam, I’m extremely sorry I couldn't get you a gift, you know how bad Anna-”
“Shut it, Cas,” came the reply, and Dean was slightly impressed at how his brother could remain so transfixed on the screen and carry on a conversation at the same time, “you know I don’t give two hoots about gifts, so quit apologizing and go order pizza or something.”
Cas smiled softly, and handed his phone to Dean, with instructions to call the pizza man whilst he made the cake in the kitchen. Dean obliged with a warning to his boyfriend that the only thing they had in there was tons of alcohol- which he was no way in hell giving to Cas-, a half loaf of bread, spoiled milk,and if they were lucky, some cheese laying around somewhere. Cas told him that he had gotten the groceries already and to just “call the pizza man Danny”, and escaped to the kitchen before Dean could do any bodily harm to him for calling him that awful nickname.
Pizza man called, Dean followed Cas into the kitchen to find him mixing whatever the hell he was mixing in a bowl (which, did they even own bowls? Where the hell did Cas get that from?) with his back turned to the Winchester. He was humming something, probably some old Beatles song, and Dean grinned, sneaking up behind his soul mate and wrapping his arms around him. Cas jumped, then melted under the touch as he continued to stir.
“Need help?”
The Milton shook his head, his grin turning into frown for a microsecond. It was gone as soon as it appeared, but it was there alright, and Dean caught it.
He sighed, placing his palms around Cas’s waist and forcing him to turn around and look at him in the eye.
“You need to quit worrying about your sister. She’s fine, she’ll be fine. The doctor said that this is normal.”
Cas huffed, cupping Dean’s face with his own and leaning forward to touch his forehead against his boyfriend’s.
“I know…I just…”
“You worry too much. You’re so wound up.”
The Milton groaned softly, muttering a “I know, I know,” under his breath, and continued on to whisper, “I don’t know, Dean. It’s just that…I’m scared that something’s going to happen if I’m not with her all the time. Protecting her.”
Dean fiddled with the buttons of the trench coat Cas always wore, sighing for what seemed like the millionth time this week alone.
“You’re such a control freak. Doing that gets you nowhere.”
“You’re right, I-”
“And Anna’s a big girl, she can take care of yourself. She’s the exact same age as you, remember?”
“Yeah, but she's just so innocent-”
Dean continued, ignoring his soul mate, “And she has your parents. You’re only 19, angel.”
Cas hummed in agreement, opening his eyes and giving Dean a small smile.
“What would I do without you?”
The Winchester grinned and let go of the college student, retreating to grab a cake pan or whatever the hell they were called and placing it beside Cas in an effort to help. Cas went back to mixing the batter, and Dean sat on the counter and watched his boyfriend dart around the kitchen like he owned it, baking the cake.
The Milton broke the silence roughly 30 minutes later, when the cake had been put in the oven-after the oven had been throughly cleaned of glass from bottles and scrubbed of its weird stains and smells-commenting, “I used to bake all the time.”
“Used to?”
“Yeah,” he replied, looking at the cake in the oven wistfully and getting on the counter to sit beside Dean, “in high school. It was our thing. Mine and-”
“I swear to God if you say Anna-”
Cas put his hands up in mock surrender.
“I told you to quit worrying!”
Cas groaned dramatically and banged his head on the cabinet a few times until Dean nudged him to stop.
“Let’s go somewhere.”
“Now?”
“No, no,” Dean shook his head, jumping off the counter so he was for the first time, shorter than Cas. The Milton swung his legs, and Dean stepped forward to clasp his hands in his and force Cas to look at him.
“Let’s run away,” he whispered, leaning forward and smushing his nose against Cas’s. “Take off for a few days.”
“Dean, this is not a YA novel.” Cas attempted to pull away, but Dean kissed him hard and quick and he was dazed enough to just sit there, “We can’t just do that, and-” he was cut off by another kiss from Dean, more urgent this time, and longer. Cas grumbled, not trying to pull away anymore and wrapped his arms around the base of Dean’s neck, scratching at the fine hairs there as he kissed him long and sweet.
Why don’t we do this more often?
Dean emitted a slight groan, pulling away to kiss his way down to the trench coat that Cas was wearing and suddenly he was pulling off Cas’s trench coat and it fell to ground discarded and Cas was unbuttoning his shirt and holyshit were they really gonna do it in here and Cas smelled so nice like citrus and watermelons and he was down to his bare undershirt and-
“In case y'all forgot, we’re still in the house, and we can hear everything that’s happening!”
There came a eruption of laughs from the living room, and Dean was almost about to throw his shoe at them until Cas pulled back, his face bright red. Dean was really embarrassed too.
Were we really going to do that?
Cas’s face as he picked up his trench coat and put it back like nothing had happened said that he was thinking the same thing, and Dean avoided his gaze as he buttoned his flannel plaid shirt back on.
The Milton turned and opened the oven to check on the cake even though there was no way the cake was already done, and Dean cleared his throat and spoke anyway because what the hell.
“I’m serious, though.”
Cas closed the oven and turned to face him, frowning him.
“About the taking off thing. We can go somewhere for a few days,” Dean would've normally stepped forward to take his soul mate’s hand, but he decided that right now wasn’t really a good idea, “just to take your mind off things.”
Cas huffed, and he didn't even need to say anything, because his face was telling Dean every single possible reason that they couldn’t.
Dean shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I don’t wanna see it, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“Dean…” Cas argued, in a stereotypically whiny voice. “I have college, and you have work, and there’s ten thousand commitments I have, and-”
He stopped when he saw his soul mate looking at him, using a look that Dean had perfected over the years as his “look at me I’m pretty and you love me do whatever I say” look.
Cas sighed, and threw his hands up.
“Oh what the hell?”
Dean grinned and kissed him again.