Hi, first post here . . . actually, it's my first Supernatural fic ever. There is something fundamentally wrong with that, I think. Anyway, it's just a humourous little stand-alone, an AU scenario where Jesse was still somewhat pissed with the scary angel with the trenchcoat and knife and . . . yeah. Hope you enjoy!
Pairing/Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel (Gen)
Warnings: Slight OOC, some Dean-language
Summary: Jesse wan't quite ready to forgive the knife-wielding angel. Sam suffers the consequences and Dean makes the best out of a bad situation.
“Dean, this isn’t going to work.”
Dean glanced over at his younger brother’s words – they were the first he’d spoken in hours. “Finally decided to rouse yourself from the Land of Sulk and Woe, Sammy?”
Sam’s posture didn’t change. He remained slouched in the passenger seat, folded arms dead-bolted over his chest, sullen pout directed at a certain point on the dashboard. He ignored Dean completely.
The elder (cooler, smarter, more handsome) Winchester rolled his eyes. “What’s not gonna work?”
It was all the invitation Sam needed. “This!” he exploded. “The . . . three people in the car thing! It’s all wrong.”
He rolled his eyes. “Dude, this again? I told you; my car, my rules. Now quit with the whiny little bitch routine, it’s getting old. ‘Sides, it’s not like this’ll be permanent.”
“Oh really? Dean, we have no idea where Jesse is, he could be in, like, Australia for all we know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The kid’s life’s been disrupted enough, he’s not gonna leave the States. We just gotta track him down.”
“And then what?”
“Then . . . we’ll ask if he can please turn Castiel back into a life size angel.”
“Because that worked so well last time.”
“We’ll ask really, really nicely, okay? What, you got any better ideas?”
Sam heaved a big sigh. “No,” he admitted. “But dude, in the meantime, could we please just put him in the backseat or something?”
Dean fought a grin. “Nah, I kinda like our new dashboard ornament.” He reached out to adjust the plastic angel.
“He keeps glaring at me. And everywhere I move, his eyes keep following me.”
“Ok, now you’re just being ridiculous. If it bothers you that much, just stare out the window.”
Sam huffed, gave the figurine another wary look, then transferred his glare to the passing trees.
Dean shook his head, an amused smile still playing around his lips, and cranked up the volume. ACDC blasted through the tense silence, and all was right with the world . . . until the cassette player started going staticky and switched to LeAnn Rhymes’ Amazing Grace.
So began a brief war between Dean and the Christian Choir channel, until the former put on his best Don’t Mess With Me, Demonic Bitch face and pointed at the innocent-looking angel on the dashboard. “Hey! You wanna be a hood ornament instead?”
They finally settled on Stairway to Heaven (with Dean promising that there was some God message somewhere in the lyrics, he was positive) and all really was right with the world.
Except for Sam. He knew it was going to be a long, painful road trip.