Oh my god a literal BUCKET of ice pops ok I want to take a bath in that.
OK GOOD now gimme fic and we can be friends.
Nick hadn’t ever considered himself special.
He got average grades, was good at a couple of things and terrible at others. He never won the jackpot on the lottery, but he never got struck by lightning either.
He had an okay job and a few good friends.
Sarah was special, he thought. Beautiful and clever and much too good to be dating him.
He wasn’t the kind of man to look a gift horse in the mouth either though, and if Sarah loved him, then he was just lucky.
If someone had tried to sit him down in a bar and explain he was an incredibly rare type of person, and high in those rankings to top it off, he would’ve laughed. Laughed and called the guy a cab.
But he was, whether he felt it or not. The core of his soul, under the layers of chalk and granite, was diamond. Under the strata of humanity, his soul shone.
David would’ve been special.
In that Nick and the world he doesn’t know about are agreed. His son would’ve been special, with a little diamond soul of his own.
The man who killed him will never know this.
When Nick’s depression carries him to drinking, the shine on his soul gets buried under more and more levels of human sediment.
Lucifer can still feel it from miles and miles away.
Nick is special.
*is tided for now* *is going to bother you for more always*
Summary: Dean can’t stay, Castiel can’t leave, and Sam’s left to fill out the insurance forms. Watching an angel break is one thing, but figuring out where to put the pieces is something else.
[Cas, I am not Lucifer. Calm the fuck down and just listen. Come on, stop fighting, it’s me, Cas…]
Sam leaves Dean with a desperate, struggling Castiel and goes to find Meg, followed down the hall by Dean’s grunted assurances that he has it “under control, Sammy, just go.” Half an hour later, Sam bursts through the door to find Castiel sitting on the bed and Dean crouched against the wall, staring at his hands.
“He just stopped, man,” Dean says without glancing up. “He was Linda Blair one second and then just, I don’t know. Gone. He stopped struggling, said, ‘It’s fine.’ and sat down. He hasn’t moved for…” He checks his watch. “Ten minutes.”
Sam turns from Dean to Castiel. He tries to examine the angel from the doorway, though he has no idea what to signs to look for. Even offline like this, Cas doesn’t seem human. He’s staring at nothing, but his gaze isn’t empty. It’s like he can still read the universe in every dust mote that floats by his eyes – even if none of it registers. Sam nods. “You think it’s gonna stick?”
or, how to woo the guy who saved your life in less than ten days.
PG-13 | Castiel/Sam | 3289 words | No spoilers/warnings
Day 1 — Tuesday
Castiel Novak starts, looking up to see a tall man with shaggy brown hair and a red apron holding a coffee pot and gesturing toward Castiel’s almost empty mug. He nods and pushes the cup closer to the waiter.
“You’re Sam Winchester, right?” Castiel asks.
He nods. “That’s me. You need anything else?” Sam smiles at Castiel, and his entire planned speech about how grateful he is to Sam for saving his life goes flying out of his head, including the two crucial words: thank you.
“Uh, no,” Castiel says, shaking his head.
“Lemme know if you do,” Sam says before turning to walk back to the kitchen. Castiel nods at his retreating back and then stares down into his coffee, feeling like the stupidest person to ever be elected sheriff in the entirety of the USA.