Beat The Devils Tattoo

Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Money, Honey

Chapter Text
The morning brought with it rain, the fat droplets hitting the parched Earth and making it sigh with relief. Castiel sat outside on the porch swing in nothing but a pair of Dean's rattier pajama pants, watching the rain pour down. The world smelled fresh and clean, and he closed his eyes to breathe it in. It had been a long time since he'd seen the world like this. It had been a long time since he could sit and think of nothing but rain, and longer still since he'd been able to honestly say that he didn't want to have a knife in his hand.

The door opened, and Benny stepped out, stretching. Castiel watched him, eyes raking over him. He hadn't been joking about his interest. Benny had been with Dean plenty of times, and if he was interesting enough to keep Dean coming back, that was certainly something that Castiel wanted to get involved with.

Benny raised an eyebrow when he saw how he was watching. "See somethin' you like, darlin'?" he drawled. His accent was thicker in the morning.

"Just thinking about how difficult it would be to talk Dean into a threeway," Castiel answered honestly. "I like you. Dean likes you. Logically, this is a good pairing. And there's the fact that you look like you're perfectly capable of fucking me senseless against a door. That's a good selling point."

Benny was staring at him, a blush high on his cheeks. His mouth was slightly open. Castiel stood up stretching, and noted smugly how Benny's eyes followed him. That was flattering.

"I think I'll head inside," he said, stepping over so he was right in front of Benny. The man's blush darkened, and he swallowed hard. "I'll see you later, Benny." He stepped around him, trailing a hand over his hip and smirking at the choked noise it got him.

Dean was in the kitchen, his Unimpressed Face #5 firmly in place. It was different from Sam's bitch faces, and Castiel just grinned at him cheekily, leaning in to kiss his neck.

"You love me," he purred, and headed upstairs to get dressed.

oOo

By lunch, Dean had a comfortable black tank and some plaid on, and was looking out at the car that had been pulled out of the garage. The big black Impala didn't quite gleam in the sunlight, too dusty despite the dust cover that had been on it. He reluctantly touched it, his shoulders slumping. Even after all these years, even after driving it for some of it, the car still made his heart hurt.
"Dean," Sam said gently from beside him. "I can drive if you'd prefer."

Dean just shook his head, and opened the door.

The Impala had been kept in perfect condition, and most of the time looked like it had just drove off the lot. It had never been the preferred Winchester vehicle, though. John had taken the kids on his bike most of the time, only driving the Impala when necessary. No, this had been Mary's car, and always would be. Mary Winchester had fled from her home in her Impala. Dean's grandfather Campbell had come after her with a gun and a horsewhip, determined to finish the job after he'd murdered his wife, Deanna. It had been Deacon Kaylor who took him down in the end, sniping him from the room that would one day be Dean's.

Dean had never been embarrassed to be named for his grandmother, who had put up a ferocious fight that allowed Mary to escape with her life. Sam hadn't been named for Samuel, but for Samuel Jean Taylor, a private who had died in John's arms after taking a bullet for him. Sam, so far as Dean knew, he still hadn't been told about how their grandfather's cruelty had nearly cost them their mother. John had wanted to spare him from the tragedy, and Dean hadn't argued.

The car still felt like her, and as Dean slid into the solid leather seats, it was hard to keep composed. 24 years past, and he still missed her desperately. Sam took his normal seat, fidgeting in his nice suit. Dean hesitantly started her, and felt the tension in his shoulders slide away at the familiar rumble. He could feel it in his bones, curling and caressing over him. The Impala always felt like home, like he'd slid into the warm embrace of his mother and father all over again.