Supernatural One-Shots

Confession

Prompt: Castiel exposes his feelings to Dean, to which he receives an unexpected response

The TV screen flickered and flashed as the slouched patron flipped impatiently through the channels.   The viewer, garmented in a tawny colored trench coat and a white button down shirt and tie, was watching over the apartment again.  He usually didn’t stay behind when the Winchester brothers drove off to investigate another “monster case”, but it was Friday evening and he was determined not to miss his favorite show: House.

Castiel, as so he had been named, toed his formal business shoes off to the side and stretched sideways on the couch.  His short black hair was frazzled in all directions except for the side he had fallen asleep on.  His black slacks were crinkled in the spots where he had criss-crossed his legs and his button down had popped a few buttons at one point in his nap.  Sighing loudly, Castiel tossed the remote aside and wandered into the kitchen where he had seen an ironing board and iron. 

The angel, having only seen the younger Winchester, Sam, perform delicate pressings on their clothing  (especially the suits), assumed there was no trick to the process except making sure the clothing never caught on fire.  Therefore, Castiel took out the ironing board and began unlocking the contraption.  At first it was difficult and the bottom legs of the board kept hitting his feet whenever he tried opening it.  And then when he would at last have the feet apart, the board itself fell short beneath him, causing him to arch his back like a black cat. 

“Fine, I will have to sit,” Castiel muttered to himself as he shrugged his trench coat off and laid it over the board.  He plugged in the iron and sat on the floor as if he was seating himself at a very low table.  Once the iron was hot enough, Castiel began pressing his coat.  He started in the center and smoothed the wrinkles out to the edges.  All was going well until Castiel caught sight of an interesting trailer playing on the TV screen.  He wasn’t sure if it was comedy or a drama, but whatever it was, it didn’t make sense to him.

Castiel placed the iron aside and stood up, his eyes not leaving the characters on the screen.  A distress passed over his bright blue eyes and a form of confusion consumed his mind.  “I don’t understand,” he said to himself right when the front door opened.  It was Sam.

“Hey, Cas, turn the iron off if you’re done using it,” Sam ordered as he kicked the door shut.  The younger Winchester with long, shaggy hair and a plaid button-down, dropped a bag to the floor.  Pointing to it, he said, “Don’t touch that.  It’s a Jefferson Starship.”

“A Jefferson what?” Castiel repeated, his eyes slowly disconnecting from the TV screen.

“Dean named them Jefferson Starship.  They’re these creatures Mother of All was breeding back in the day.   And get this,” Sam pulled a beer from the cooler and popped the cap off, “some of them even bred with Leviathans.”

 Castiel didn’t respond.  His thoughts were still disturbed, as well as interested in, the last clips he had seen on the television.  He glanced up at the screen and saw that it had resumed to Dr. House chiding the Australian doctor about lupus.  Castiel’s forehead creased with an anxious look and his lips moved slowly, as if he was trying to explain something to himself.

“Cas?  Are you all right?  What’s wrong? What did you watch this time?”

“Sam, we have to talk.”

“Sure, sure, go ahead.”  Sam took another swig from his beverage and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his feet at the ankles.  “What’s on your mind?”

“I saw a future advertisement of a movie and…” Castiel’s words snagged suddenly in his throat, making him force a cough.

Sam raised an eyebrow.  “Was it the Human Centipede: The Return?  If so, I am so sorry you saw that, man.  No one deserves to see that—you should’ve seen Dean—,”