"The man in the gas station says there is black ice on I-91" Castiel said through chattering teeth as he slid back into the shotgun seat. He passed Dean his change from the gas and a Snickers.
"What are we gonna do, Cas? I don't wanna stay here another night. Whole town creeps me out." Dean grumbled as he unwrapped his candy. "Freaking ghouls."
"We could find a guesthouse, somewhere nice and cozy maybe Darlin', wait out the ice storm?" Castiel suggested.
Dean huffed and took a large bite of chocolate. He turned on the wipers but the rain had fricking frozen to the windshield in the few minutes that parka wrapped Castiel had ducked into the gas station store. "Sonvabitch."
He hunched his shoulders against the cold and gritted his teeth as he used the scrapper on the glass. He wouldn't have needed to risk scratching Baby's windshield if they had headed home after clearing out the nest of house imps in Dublin, Ohio.
Sammy, the lucky bastard, had gone to Phoenix to help Krissy and Aiden deal with a poltergeist. When the rogue imp SNAFU had hit the hunter alert grid at the same time as Krissy's call, they had decided to divide and conquer. After chasing giggling imps who were not adverse to using flour and water bombs as distractions, Dean decided he was too old for kindergarten mentality fuglies and that Sam was not allowed to arbitrarily pick and chose their jobs. Part of Dean was in fact thrilled that his baby brother was back to his best and able to take Dean in a wrestling showdown. Winchester Wrestling was the latest amusement in their newly discovered Men of Letters gymnasium. Who knew that a whole gym lay behind a nondescript closet-like door near the showers?
The Ballantrae Motel in Dublin may have been falling down but it did have fantastic water pressure and a large enough shower for Castiel to assist Dean in removing the flour glue, while Dean massaged the broken eggs out of Cas's hair. They were on the road to Indiana when Garth had called with a hunt he said they were under the Obligation of Co-incidence to accept. Castiel informed the self appointed hunting coordinator that there was no such thing as Obligation of Co-incidence. However when Dean heard that dead bodies and live people were going missing in Lebanon, New Hampshire, he did accept that they were the first ones he would have called in too.
It was snowing when they reached Erie. By the time they crossed New York State the radio was giving weather warnings. The owner of the Mascoma Inn, Lebanon, New Hampshire had to help them dig a path for the Impala to the customer carport, which was the feature that made Dean pick the establishment. The ancient heating system made Castiel paranoid about dying in their sleep due to carbon monoxide poisoning. In the end they hadn't caught more than forty winks in the grubby room.
Snow was no good for hunting. OK so it muffled sounds but it also left tracks to alert your fugly that you were coming. Luckily for Dean and Cas, but unluckily for the stolen corpse of a foundry supervisor in Franklin, the ghoul was too absorbed in eating the dead guy's liver to notice the two hunters stealthy approach. Dean had decapitated the ghoul before it knew what hit him. They had spent the rest of the night checking the ghoul hadn't any friends or family hiding in the basement, attic or outhouses before burning the bodies and heading back to the wrong Lebanon.
Once Dean had a wide enough opening in the ice to see the highway he hustled back into the Impala. Castiel was surgically attached to his new I-phone. Dean was sure the memory card was full of pictures of snow and icicles. This time Cas was scrolling down his screen.
"Do we have a genuine fake credit card?"
"Sure we do." Dean flipped open his wallet, "Better not be for porn, unless you're looking up some kinky loving for later."
Castiel gave him a stink eye. "I have found us a place for the night."
"Awh, Cas, can't we just drive until we can't anymore?" Dean itched to get outta dodge and away from all this New England winter weather.
"Firstly, the roads are treacherous. Secondly, you have already had too many of those caffeine drinks. Thirdly we did not sleep last night due to the hunt. Fourthly I am not taking the wheel with ice on the roads…"
"OK, OK, I surrender." Dean laughed, "We'll do it your way."
Castiel called ahead and booked them a superior queen. Dean raised his eyebrow but Castiel ignored it turning his head to the side window.
"Take I-91 as planned Dean." Castiel directed, "signs for Mount Ascutney State Park. Our Bed and Breakfast is beyond the butterfly farm outside Windsor, Vermont."
Dean tried not to laugh. He shook his head thinking he was going to be dragged round to see butterflies in the morning. He'd bet the takings of his next hustle that 'The Google' had told Castiel that the farm had bee hives too. The single lane road to that led them to their guesthouse would need a snow plough soon, but they made it with no trouble. Ascutney Lodge had a football pitched size lawn, now white, and plenty of parking. The windows between the green shutters glowed with welcome, which was only added to by the giant fireplace full of glowing logs in the hall. Their receptionist was a friendly young girl with bouncy red hair and clashing purple eye shadow, which for some strange reason, perhaps a new fashion that escaped Dean, she had applied below her eyes too. Dean nudged Castiel, "Look Hun, they've a games room."
Purple overheard him and outlined their pool table, foosball, playstation and that they could sign for playstation games available for loan from reception. Dean thought it might not be too bad if they got snowed in.
Their room had a view of the State Park and as the sun fell below the trees, Dean stretched out on the comfortable bed with its heritage style quilt. After the shocker of the beds in Lebanon and Dublin and sleeping in the Impala during their cross country road trip, being able to extend his limbs comfortably was bliss. Castiel took to the bathroom to wash up before they headed down for a promised decent meal at the in-house dining room. Dean's phone jerked him from his warm dozy state.
"Hey Jerk." Sam said as hello, "Thought I'd forgotten?"
"Huh?" Dean asked.
"Happy Birthday old man. You know 35 is nearly forty." Sam chuckled.
"Did you call me on my freaking birthday to abuse me, Bitch?" Dean scrubbed his hand over his scalp. He'd lost track of the date. His birthday had crossed his mind earlier in the week but between imps, ghouls and snowstorms he'd forgotten about it.
"Ha! Dean." Sam huffed down his nose, "Gotcha a gift an all."
"Pie?" Dean asked hopefully.
"Apple and brown sugar. Mrs. Anderson in the bakery says I can freeze it. You on your way back?"
"Yeah Sammy. Ghoul is ganked. Cas and I are holed up in Vermont till morning. Then we're heading your way."
"I hear ya. I'll keep it out of the ice box then. Drive careful, dude."
"Will do."
"Say Hi to Cas."
"Sure thing." Dean cleared his throat, "and thanks man. You're a good brother."
"Geez, if I'd known all it took was some pie. Bye Jerk."
"Later Bitch." Dean chuckled.
"Sam?" Castiel asked as he emerged with a fluffy towel slung low around his hips.
Dean nodded. He didn't relay the conversation, not wanting to make Castiel ill at ease about the birthday thing. He promised to himself that he would indulge in Castiel's firm abs and dusky nipples later, as his own birthday present. Cas turned his back and dropped the towel. Dean smiled at the sight of their Christmas exchange. He rubbed his lower spine with the back of his hand, feeling for the same spot on his own skin. He could almost smell Slugger's mulled wine air freshener as he remembered their trip. The bike ride into the hills, the drinking party at Slugger's local, and their new matching tats, an Impala-black feather halved on its side. Dean had the top half above the shaft, Castiel's one had the spine on top with the soft black barbs aligned below.
Downstairs the dining room was glowing in low lighting with another huge roaring log fire. Their hostess, who looked like Purple's sister, gave them a table under a painting of the Connecticut River. There were only two other occupied tables, both by other guests. It was a family operation not a restaurant, but there were still three choices of entrée. Dean picked the steak and blue cheese sauce. Cas went for the Rabbit Cacciatore.
Over freshly brewed coffee and homemade brownies, Castiel pulled an envelope from his pocket.
Dean took it with a questioning look, but Castiel didn't say a word.
Inside were another envelope and a note.
I know you and Sam do not celebrate occasions but I wish to acknowledge the day of your birth. Without you Dean I would still be a 'junkless mindless solider', I would not have known free will nor what it means to love another. I do not regret my fall because I fell for you.
"Quite the poet." Dean quipped but he leaned across and caught Castiel's face with his palm, planting a kiss on his wine flavored lips.
The other envelope held three tickets for a Black Sabbath concert in Clarkston Missouri.
"Do you like them?" Castiel asked with a tense hopeful smile.
"Awesome Dude." Dean's face split in a wide grin, "You will have to let me thank you later."
"You can thank me now." Castiel whispered.
They balled up their napkins and made a break for the bedroom. A trail of clothes littered the carpet. Sheets and blankets were tossed aside. In the race to be first on the bed, they both won. Dean laughed with his head thrown back as Castiel's stubble tickled his chest. Castiel gripped the sheets so tight that the crinkles remained in the morning. Castiel may have been the screamer, but Dean was hoarse from pleasure and sated from Castiel's demonstrative lovemaking.
"My Cas." Dean uttered gently into the other man's bare shoulder.
"Dean." Castiel spoke soft and low into the night.
Intimate words exchanged in whispers, on this night and eternally.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++SPNSPNSPNSPSNPSNPSNPSN++++++++++++++++++++
Author's Note:
OMG guys it's done!
I just want to thank you all for your support, attention, comments, reviews, kudos, favourites, bookmarks and follows on AO3 and here. I cannot believe as I post the epilogue there are 7.5K hits on AO3 and 26.5K on FF. I am humbled and delighted that so many people have read or looked in on Candy.
A special thanks to those of you who have typed your supportive comments as I posted, and to those who have given me constructive criticisms, pointing out errors that I have endeavoured to correct.
I am going to miss this so much, you have no idea.
Now that I won't be posting daily I have a list of Big Bang stories to read, a pile of fics marked for later on AO3, my poor neglected RPF tales to write, and of course my diary cleared for the return of Season 9…
Thank you all again, it has been a fun ride.