ficlets in brine

“Weird” wasn’t the word he’d use for this situation. “Weird” didn’t cover it by a long shot. This was certified fucked up, but Dean still had to laugh.

One massive gut-wrenching trip on Angel Airlines, two dead demons and an exorcism later, he was leaning against a guardrail with a half empty beer under the night sky. Next to Dean sat himself – sort of. A wide-eyed, shorter, skinnier, much blonder version of himself, barely old enough to drink.

Yeah. Pretty fucked up.

“So you’re me,” younger Dean asked, swishing the contents of his bottle.

“Yep.” Older Dean laughed. “Sounds like a setup for a bad joke, huh?”

Young Dean scrubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Yeah. So what’s 2012 like?”

“Same, pretty much.” Dean shifted against the guardrail, surveying the scene. They had a good 20 minutes before they needed to scram, but for now he was content to watch the cars burn on the country road, Cas scurrying about making sure the damage was controlled. Besides, how often does anyone get to have a beer with themselves? In this sense, anyway.

“So,” younger Dean pitched his empty bottle behind him and went for another. “Any awesome stories about what my life is gonna be like in ten years?”

Dean pondered, chewing his lip. “Sure, why the fuck not? Cas is gonna wipe your memory after this – sorry, rules.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Well,” Older Dean began. “In a nutshell, you’re gonna team up with Sammy, go hunting, get killed a few times, and stop the apocalypse twice.”

“No shit?” younger Dean laughed. “That’s cool.”

Dean’s lip curled up in a wicked grin. His younger self wouldn’t remember any of this.

“Wanna know the real kicker?”

Young Dean snorted. “After all this? You bet.”

Dean waved his beer out to where Castiel stood, tense with concentration, the tan of his trench coat oddly bright against the rubble. “See that guy?”

“Oh yeah. What’s his deal? Dude has no social skills.”

Dean laughed loud at that. “Nope, he doesn’t. But most angels don’t.”

Young Dean turned to him slowly. “Angel?”

“Yep, halo, wings and all.”

“Damn.” Young Dean took a long pull from his beer.

“Yeah. And you’re gonna fall in love with him.”

Young Dean coughed and sputtered, sending a spray of beer onto the road. Dean laughed and clapped his younger self on the back. He hadn’t had this much fun in years.

“What the fuck?” Young Dean’s face was a precious mix of fear and confusion. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.” Dean glanced over at Cas, putting on his best lovey-dovey expression.

“I’m not gay.”

Dean drank the last of his beer and set the bottle down on the road. “You’re right, we’re not.”

“But he’s a dude.”

“Technically, angels aren’t male or female.” Dean felt smug saying that. “Cas has a male vessel, sure, but you’d be surprised how little of a difference that makes.”

Young Dean was quiet for a long while. “…Shit. So you’re telling me I’m gonna fall for some… some holy tax accountant?”

Dean laughed loud and long at that. “That’s what I’m telling you. Look,” he collected himself before continuing, clearing his throat. “One thing you’re gonna figure out is that love isn’t simple. It’s not a matter of liking tits or dicks or whatever. It’s…”

He thought back to everything that led up to it. The proximity, the camaraderie, Cas always by his side even when he didn’t ask for it. The slow buildup over time, the tension between them palpable. Dean’s expression went soft, remembering the moment it all came together on that one hunt, their bodies crashing together in what he thought was an Oscar-worthy, three years in the making, overloaded-with-passion epic first kiss.

“It’s the moment you have someone offering to stay with you forever, and you realize you can’t picture anyone else in their place.”

Young Dean stayed quiet, his expression mixed. Dean almost wished he didn’t have to wipe his memory. It would’ve been nice to figure this shit out sooner than he did. The years he spent dancing around what his heart wanted were exhausting and a waste of energy.

“Dean,” Cas called, his low voice rising above the roar of the fires in its ethereal way. “We have to go.”

“Right,” Dean called back before turning to his younger self. “Welp, I’m off. Sorry you won’t remember this, but y’know, time paradoxes and all that shit.”

Young Dean put his hands in his pockets, thoughtful. “Yeah. Well, uh. Take care, I guess.”

“You too.” Dean started to walk away, but turned back with a grin.

“Oh, and believe me kid, sex with an angel? Mind-blowingly awesome.”

Dean was laughing about the terrified look on his younger self’s face for months to come.