Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: angst, canon violence
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You pace the floor inside your motel room as Dean brings up an article about Gabriel's Horn of Truth. He got the idea that maybe this thing is what's causing everyone to spill the truth and then commit suicide, or in the dentist's case, kill his patient. If this thing truly is Gabriel's Horn of Truth, then Castile is the best person to call for this sort of thing...
...if he'd ever answer.
"Hey, are you okay? You haven't sat down since we got back," Dean says to you as he pours himself a glass of whiskey.
"Well, if Castiel would answer the fucking phone, I might calm down a little."
"Speaking of, let me try again," he sighs. "Castiel? Hello? Possible loose nuke down here with maybe an angelic weapon. Kinda your department. You hear that, Cas?"
A few minutes go by before you hear the flap of wings.
"Hello Dean and Y/N," the angel says be the kitchen sink.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" you glare angrily at him.
"We have been on red alert about Sam, and you come for some fucking horn?!"
"You asked me to be here, and I came."
"What the fuck? We've been calling you for days, Castiel!" you accuse.
"You dick!"
"I didn't come about Sam because I have nothing to offer about Sam."
"Well, that's great, because for all we know, he's just gift wrap for Lucifer," he glares and downs his glass.
"No, he's not Lucifer," the angel mutters and grabs the whiskey bottle.
You think he's going to drink it himself, but he's only bringing it to Dean for a refill.
"How do you know that?" you ask.
"If Lucifer escaped the cage, we'd feel it."
Dean looks at you, at your stomach, and then gets an idea in his head. He's going to ask Castiel about your stomach problem, and if you are truly pregnant, then you don't want him blurting it out in front of him. So, instead, you take matters into your own hands.
"And Gabriel's Horn of Truth? Is that a real thing?" you ask.
"You've seen it?" the angel asks with hinted excitement.
"We think it's in town. Something is forcing people to—"
In a flutter of wings, Castiel vanished before your very eyes. Who the hell does he think he is? He never used to be like this pre-apocalypse, so why is he now? What the hell is happening in Heaven that's causing him to be like this?
"Well, you're welcome!" you yell into the air.
Dean takes a swig of his drink when Castiel returns.
"It isn't the Horn of Truth."
"What are you talking about? You were gone for, like, two seconds. Where did you look?" Dean asks.
"Everywhere."
"Right, well nice seeing you anyway. I don't know what happened to you, man, but you used to be human. Or, at least, like one."
"I'm at war. Certain regrettable things are now required of me," he sighs. "But about your brother..."
"What is wrong with him?" Dean cuts him off.
"I don't know, Dean. I'm sorry."
"Castiel, how common is it for humans to live without souls?" you ask after a pause.
"Tell her she's fucking nuts," Dean interjects.
"I feel mine, I feel Dean's, and I feel my dad's. I can't feel yours because you don't have one. I can't feel Sam's, Castiel. He used to have one, but nothing is there. Aaron Birch was able to sell his soul to Balthazar, so how common is it for humans to live without a soul. I don't think Sam has one."
"I don't know what's wrong with him, but I do want to help. I'll make inquiries," he says.
Just like that, he's gone again. This time, he isn't coming back.
"You didn't ask him about you, Y/N," Dean says.
"He's busy, Dean. I'm fine, okay? I'm actually feeling a lot better," you lie straight to his face.
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Dean is at the local bar currently sipping on some beer. There is a news reporter on the TV right above the bar that has some woman named Ashley Frank speaking about God knows what. You're not really paying attention to what she's saying because you're on the phone with your dad. No one is listening to you when you say you think Sam doesn't have a soul. Dean once thought vampires didn't exist or angels, but those turned out to be real. This could very well be real, and no one is doing anything about it.
You're not sure what kind of lore there is on this matter, and that's why you're talking to your dad about it. He can do a lot more research than you right now. Your head is too jumbled up with hopeful possibilities to properly focus on Sam right now. The bartender hands Dean another drink and goes back to whatever she was doing before he arrived. There aren't that many patrons in the bar, but then again, it's the middle of the day. You're not sure where Sam is, but you don't really care at this point.
"Please, dad, for me?" you sigh.
"I have never heard of someone living without a soul, Y/N."
"Yeah, and you've never heard of angels before either. Or demons or Lucifer or every other type of monster. Please, all I'm asking of you is to just try. What harm is it going to do? We don't have anything else right now."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. It would explain half of the things he's been doing this whole time."
"We finally got ahold of Castiel, and I told him the same thing. He's going to look into it too, or that's what he says he's gonna do. I don't know what's up with him, but I trust you a lot more than I trust him right now."
"Did you ask him why you've been throwing up this whole time?"
You look over at Dean who is also on the phone, and he looks at you when he feels the hole you're staring into his skull. He gives you a confused look as if to say, "why are you looking at me like that?", but you just shake your head and turn back to the TV.
"No, I'm fine. Everyone is making a big deal out of nothing."
"Throwing up for a week straight without feeling sick is kind of a big deal."
"Yeah, I'll do it the next time he comes down, dad," you groan.
"Just looking out for you, that's all."
"I know, thanks. Let me know what you find though."
"You got it," he says and hangs up.
Dean is still on the phone, so you turn to the TV and listen to what Ashley has to say.
"...Consumers from predatory prices. Here are the facts," she says. You're not sure what she is talking about, so you listen on. "Find out the truth about your layaway living room."
What? Besides the off-putting message, there is something off about her in general. Just the way she speaks to the camera makes you think she's actually speaking directly to her audience—manipulating them through technology.
"Hey, who were you on the phone with?" Dean asks once he's done talking to his brother.
"My dad. You?"
"Sam. Apparently the bodies are gone as if they vanished."
"What the fuck? Where did they go?"
"We're not sure, but Sam's got a lead. Patient zero, if you will. She died in a car accident, but there was no reason that it could have been that. He's at her place now."
"Good, let's go," you nod.
"In a minute," he says to you and turns to the bartender. "You know what? I will have that other one."
"Thought you were working," she says even though she's already pouring him another one.
"Yeah, me too," you add.
"I'm working up to it."
"You okay?" she asks him.
"No, not really."
"On me. Anything else I can get you?" she asks, pouring and sliding him a shot glass of alcohol.
"I'd just like the fucking truth," he downs the shot. "But I'll settle for another one and one for her."
"Uh, no, just water is good for me. Thanks," you politely decline. Dean gives you a confused look, and you just wave him off. "I'm just getting over being sick. Alcohol isn't good for me right now."
"Whatever," he shrugs.
"Sometimes I think I can't get pregnant 'cause God knows my marriage is a sham," the bartender blurts out. "Why'd I say that? I mean, I've been snorting oxy all day. Why'd I say that?"
"I'm pretty sure I know," he mumbles as he looks at the TV. Ashley Frank is still talking—something about the truth coming out. "I've got to go. Thank you."
You and Dean get up to leave, but he's stopped by a busty patron while you're stopped by a tall and lean guy, almost about the same height as Dean.
"I'm sitting like this so you'll look at my breasts. I just bought them. I need a lot of attention," the woman says and pushes her arms closer together which causes her breasts to push up.
"I've been waiting this entire time for this guy to leave so I can approach you. I'm very insecure, and I'm threatened by him based on his looks," the man confesses to you.
"Okay, good luck with that," you mutter and practically drag Dean out by the arm.
"What the fuck was that about?" you ask Dean once you two are outside.
"I don't know, but let's see if this works over the phone," he says and pulls out his own before dialing your father and putting it on speakerphone. "Hey, anything you're itching to tell me?"
"Not really. Sorry to disappoint," your father says.
"Ah, that's alright. I'm just testing a theory."
"Well, I'm here hittin' the books, drinking a nice glass of milk, and watching 'Tori & Dean'," he admits.
"W-Wait, who and Dean?" you ask as you approach the car.
"Tori Spelling. I'm a huge fan. The girl's a real talent."
"Oh, I guess it does work over the phone," Dean says to you, and you just shrug in response.
"You know what else? I get a pedicure once in a while at this nice Vietnamese joint."
"Okay, okay, please stop," you wince.
You don't need to hear this.
"This one gal, Nhung Phuong—her name means velvet Phoenix—is a tiny thing, but man, she has a grip on her! She starts on my toes, and I feel like I am gonna—"
"Whoa, whoa! Hey, come on, ma–now I'm scarred for life. Thank you. We both are," Dean speaks for the both of you.
"I never told anyone that. Why am I telling you? Maybe 'cause you're my favorite, you know, apart from my daughter. Although, Sam's a better hunter. Lately, anyway. Why the hell am I telling you this?!" he shouts.
"Because I'm cursed."
"No, this whole town is," you correct.
"Cursed?"
"Yes."
"How is it that half the time you clean a mess, you end up dirty?"
"Actually, this might be the best thing that's happened to me in a while," Dean says, getting an idea.
If this whole town is cursed to tell the truth, then the same thing will happen to Sam. You're curious as to why Dean hasn't been sprouting the truth to you, but you're not questioning it further. You're scared you're not going to like what comes out.
"What do you mean? Dean, what damn fool move are you about to—"
"I gotta go," he cuts your dad off.
"Okay, but did you know my first girlfriend turned out to be a—"
"Whoa!" you shout.
"No! Mmm-mmm," Dean shakes his head and immediately hangs up.
You really don't need to hear that. You two get into the car, and Dean dials his brother's number to see if it'll work on him. He got his voicemail based on what he says next.
"Sam, it's me. Listen, I'm on my way to you, but if you get this before then, give me a call back. There's a few things I want to ask you."