Lightkeeper /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

Don't Fear The Reaper

The walk back to the house was a cold one. Granted, there was no wind to worsen it, but that was of little comfort. It only meant that the sounds surrounding the trio were all the more ominous in the dead of the night.

"Probably a squirrel," Gabriel whispered when the branch of a nearby tree suddenly bowed.

Sam nodded passively. He was trying to listen to Gabriel whilst keeping an eye on his sister: a task that proved to be increasingly difficult.  Whilst Gabriel was doing all he could to stay in the moonlight, where he could at least see a little better, Elsa was doing all she could to stay out of it.  She was already on high alert and kept slipping in and out of the shadows, her arm always hovering over the hilt of her silver knife (which was really more of a dagger) that she'd tucked inside the waistband of her jeans.

Yet again, Sam found himself missing his own weapons. He'd have to get them out of the attic as soon as they got home.

"Get back."

Sam looked up to see Gabriel stepping out of the road and onto the pavement as a pair of headlights materialised in the distance. They began to look closer.

Striding quickly forwards, Sam caught up with Gabriel and drew him back into the shelter of a closed café. They were still in the town, though nearing its edge, and were yet to lose the gift of its protection.

Sam held his breath involuntarily as the headlights grew. For a split second, the lights fell upon them, catching the edge of their figures in the gloom. Then they were gone. The rumble of the engine already fading as they listened.

"Come on," Sam tapped the side of Gabriel's arm, "The sooner we get inside, the better."

~~

Dean sat at Bobby's desk, tucked away in the corner of the living room.  The thing was still an absolute mess - old books and maps piled left, right and centre - but Dean had managed to clear a small space to set down his laptop.  Now, he sat hunched over its screen, watching the same loop of footage over and over again.

"Dean?" Cas called from the kitchen.  "I'm getting toast, do you want any?"

"Please." 

Dean could already hear Cas moving around in the next room, opening cupboards and closing draws, and wondered at how natural that felt.  It was an odd thought, Dean realised.  He'd never thought he'd find true comfort in the company of anyone other than his siblings.  He'd been wrong. 

The toast popped, and Dean quickly shut the lid of the laptop, pushing it away from him and into a book, which promptly toppled off the desk.

"It won't help."

"Yeah," Dean smiled meekly as Cas placed the toast in front of him, "I can't help it though. I have to keep making sure, y'know?"

"Move over," Cas ordered, leaving Dean's question to hang in the air.

The Winchester pushed his chair back slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile as Cas powdered himself onto his lap, and his arms around his shoulders for support.

"There," Cas placed a light kiss on Dean's temple, "You can't even see the laptop now. How's that?"

"I can, actually," Dean smirked, "All I have to do is drop you."

Cas clutched dramatically at his chest. "You wouldn't."

"I might."

"Dean!"

"Okay, okay. I wouldn't."

"Not ever?"