Cheer Up ✔️

Going Undercover

You wake the next morning to car horns and the general rumble of humanity and the first thing you notice is that you not in the motel room - but in the familiar smell of the crackled leather passenger seat of the Impala. As disoriented as you are, you come to realise one, you're alone and two, there is a shrill jingle coming from the cheap phone in your pocket.

Donuts or bagels? the text reads from an unknown number. Frowning, wondering why a wrong number has texted you breakfast foods, you haste a reply back;

Dean?

Almost immediately the reply comes in, Himself. Donuts or bagels?

Both, you text back with heavily lidded eyes, stifling a yawn with your eyes grazing over the suburban lifestyle of Minnesota.

and pie. AND COFFEE. How long was I asleep??? How did I get into the car??

As you sit upright the next chime comes in, making you smile,

I never forget the pie, already got coffee. 10 hours, Sleeping Beauty. I carried you.

Ten hours? A record. Your usual six to four hours was trumped compared to that.

Well. You felt better, certainly.

And Dean carried you? Your mind wanders to the question of whether it was like a very unglamorous sack of potatoes over the shoulder or the classic bridal style.

You leave it to question for later in the back of your mind but before you can store it, a tap on the glass makes you jump almost out of your skin. But seeing it was only Dean, you sighed as deep as the lines of the now crinkled shirt thanks to sleeping on it and manually unlocked his side. You smelt the goods of breakfast before seeing it.

Ah, coffee. Perfect.

"So how's my baby going today?" He smiles, passing you half the breakfast foods and settling into the front seat.

"Should get her checked for mileage, we've been across the country like, three times in the last two weeks." You retort quickly, talking about the Impala instead. With careful fingers you pry a donut from the bag and sink your teeth in.

Dean laughed, "Wrong baby," he grinned, kissing your cheek with the little flour of the bagel on his lips. It felt like an angel's kiss. "Okay, how's my darlin'?"

You giggle, and both take sips of the coffee. "Better than ever. Let's go house hunting. But first of all, let's find a state to live in. One we agree on. And a good last name. Gotta change it..."

Almost inhaling the coffee via nose, you watch Dean splutter. "Change names? What are we in, a kids detective chapter book?"

You rolled your eyes slightly and gave a glance to your watch absentmindedly, "You mightn't think it, Dean, but with a changed name could throw off the authorities. You know you're kinda still blacklisted."

He huffed. "Fine. We'll do all of this, the name, the house, the play pretend, but we gotta have Cas."

You frown, "...tiel? Why? He was a part of the God-plot before, remember? The one which meant you and I couldn't be together?" There's a shift in the back seat and in the rear mirror you flinch to see Castiel with his trench coat and puppy eyes. "Holy -,"

"I deeply apologise for what I had done before, ______. I was doing duty as an angel of the lord, and as a soldier. I am sorry." Cas's voice broke in the middle, and your heart dipped.

"You need Cas for protection." Dean reminded you, "As much as you don't think it, you're not up to ganking the crazy weird at the moment."

You nodded. "Okay. But Cas poses as my older brother."

"Done." Dean accepts. "And we are ______ and Dean Wesson. And Cas...he can be..."

You sat up straighter. "Jimmy. That's your vessal, right?"

"It's agreed on then." Dean grins. "Let's go."