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aja_evenstar

Sam and Dean edged along the aisle, brows equally furrowed in concern. The shelves before them were lined with rows and rows of toys. Big, small, plastic, plush, interactive, cuddly, frightening. All toys in all forms, and the Winchesters were feeling a little overwhelmed.

“Dude,” Dean breathed. “How the hell are we supposed to find something?”

“Finding something is going to be the problem,” Sam replied, his eyes wandering the shelves dubiously. “Finding the right thing. That’s our problem.”

 Mothers with toddlers and strollers passed them by in the aisle, selecting toys of choice and moving on while Sam and Dean remained stationary.

“Ok, we just need to find something they’ll like,” Dean said, as if giving himself a pep talk. He started pacing the aisle, repeating to himself, “Something they’ll like, something they’ll like.”

“If they don’t, do you think they’ll make us bring it back?” Sam asked, his face screwing up in fear. “Exchange it?”

Dean’s head shot in his direction. “Come back? God I hope not. Well Sammy, we’re just gonna have to make the right choice this time. Then there’ll be no coming back.”

Sam nodded, and each of them began lifting toys experimentally, looking them over and evaluating whether or not it was going to be the one.

“Hey,” Dean smirked, “check it out.”

On one of the lower shelves was a plastic container of black, plastic guns. They were little – small enough for infant hands – and rimmed orange. Dean thought that if he dropped it from his height it would probably fall apart.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea, Dean?” Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not? Teach ‘em how to handle one of these, they’ll be ready for the business before we were!”

Sam paused to allow Dean to absorb his own words before saying, “I’m not sure that’s the outcome Carlie and Jamila had in mind when they sent us out here to buy some toys.”

“You think they’ll have a problem with the kids becoming hunters?”

“I think they’ll have a problem with us deciding that before they’ve even been born. And do we even want them to become hunters?” Sam picked up a plush, brown bear, turning it over in his hands. “Maybe they don’t have to be... Maybe they could be something else.”

Dean looked at the gun in his hands and started to dislike the idea himself. Putting it back, he picked up a plastic stethoscope.

“He could be a doctor,” Dean smiled.

“Or a musician,” Sam added, grinning as he held a little silver recorder.

Dean picked up a soft basketball the size of his palm. “Or an A-league sports player.”

They were silent for a moment, when Dean spotted something out of the corner of his eye. “Heh-hey!” Dropping the basketball, Dean picked up a little, shiny Impala figurine. Dean’s grin reflected just how much it resembled his baby. “Perfect!”

Sam was pleasantly surprised at them finding something so true to themselves, and while Dean admired its make Sam spotted something on the shelf above his head.

“What about these?” He held out two plush toy dragons. They had big square heads with large, kind eyes and a flame sticking out of their mouths instead of a tongue. One was orange, the other red.

“That isn’t a little creepy after the dragons we hunted?” Dean quirked an eye.

Sam looked at the toys in his hands, his mouth twisted in thought. “We just won’t tell them.”

Dean nodded in approval, and with two Impalas and two dragons they made for the checkout. Neither said it, but both had ended up enjoying this trip; however they were both also confident they would not have to come back.

aja_evenstar

“CAS!” Dean roared, yanking up the blanket to cover himself and essentially block Carlie’s view. The angel looked on with a furrowed brow.

“... Yes?”

“A little warning before you turn up, jeez.”

Carlie sat up straighter, adjusting her shirt. She held the blanket to her; the wind that came with Castiel’s arrival was quite chilling.

“I was not aware that you would require a warning when I came with information you had requested.”

“Yeah well a few more minutes and you really would’ve interrupted something,” Dean rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. Carlie flicked on the bedside lamp, dousing the room in a low, warm glow so that everyone could finally see each other’s faces clearly.

“Yes, well...” Castiel looked around, unsure of what that meant. “Would you like to hear my news?”

“Alright then, let’s have it.” Dean swung his legs out of bed, huffing as he walked over to the couch and plopping himself down heavily. Carlie followed, grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed to wrap around herself.

“What’d you find out?” she asked, leaning forward.

“The nest is in one of the abandoned buildings along the harbour. I followed a scout back from the most recent victim’s house.”

“Most recent victim?”

“It will be on the midnight news,” Castiel informed her.

“You saw it happen!?” Carlie’s eyes were wide with horror.

“Unfortunately I arrived only moments too late. I did not think it prudent to enter the house as it would not allow me to trace them back to the nest.”

Carlie nodded, but suddenly felt a cold pit inside her chest open up. Someone had died – just died – that they could’ve saved if they’d known faster. She played back her evening, and shivered at the idea that while she and Dean were cuddling in bed, someone had been having the life sucked out of them only a few miles away.

“Hey, it ain’t out fault,” Dean said, looking down at her huddled posture. Dean knew that Carlie took deaths personally. Unlike him, she had not been exposed to people dying all her life, and it still hit her hard when there was someone that had not been saved. She looked up at him like she was trying to believe, and nodded, although the agreement didn’t quite reach her eyes. Dean leant a hand on her knee, rubbing it soothingly.

“So when can we go kill these S.O.B.s?” His game face instantly shifted into place.

“We should go now.” Castiel walked forward, arms outstretched, and Dean instantly recoiled.

“WOAH. Woah man, woah. Just hang on a second.” Dean had reclined deep into the couch, pulling Carlie with him, eyes pointing daggers at Cas.

“What?” the angel asked.

“Warning, dude. You really got get with this concept. Let us get dressed, I’ll get Sam. We’ll grab our weapons and then we can go.”

Castiel took a step back while Carlie and Dean got right down to business. Carlie retreated into the bathroom while Dean popped out the door and could be heard knocking on Sam and Jamila’s room.

“‘Ey! Cas is here and we’re gonna go save some civilians! Get decent so we can get going.”

When he walked back into the room and started pulling on some pants, Carlie emerged from the bathroom with one eyebrow cocked.

“What?” he asked, hopping around as he attempted to get his second leg in.

“You don’t think there was a nicer way to do that?”

“They gotta get up one way or another. This way’s quicker.”

“Sam’s gonna be in a mood.”

“Sam’s always in a mood.”

“Only from where you’re sitting.”

A few minutes passed before Sam and Jamila entered, both looking quite as agitated as Carlie had predicted.

“Ready to hustle?” Dean asked, slinging a duffel over his shoulder. Sam fixed him with a deadly gaze while Jamila avoided his eyes altogether, going to stand beside Carlie. Dean looked at Carlie, the corners of his mouth tipping down as he shrugged. She tried to contain a giggle and Cas seemed rather confounded by this entire dynamic, but he stood in place, waiting for the others to get in line. Carlie quickly filled in Sam and Jamila on the details of where they were going and what needed to be done, to which they nodded in tired understanding.

Everybody joined hands, Jamila with Carlie with Cas with Dean with Sam, and in a whirl of wind were gone.

Author: aja_evenstar
Pairing: Dearlie
Notes: Well this is rather a good use of LJ, isn't it.

Dean entered the house, slinging his fedora from his head and hanging it neatly on the coatrack, along with his dark trenchcoat. He hooked a finger under his tie and loosened it, breathing deeply like he was finally free of the day. It had been long indeed, and he was glad to be back home.

“Carlie?” he called up, tipping his head to look up the stairs, but all the lights were out. To his right, the lounge room light was out as well. In fact the only light in the house was coming from the kitchen, and there was an awful lot of noise coming from in there. He recognised the sound of a knife being pulled from the rack, and then the bustle of who-knows-what along the floor. The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood on end, just like they did when his spidey-senses tingled, suggesting that something supernatural may be afoot. He pulled his gun from the holster strapped across his chest, moving against the wall. He slid closer and closer to the kitchen, eyes focused on the strip of light visible from the kitchen. Shadows passed across it, suggesting more movement inside.

“Ow!”

There was the cry of pain – a woman’s voice – Carlie’s voice, and Dean abandoned biding his time. Springing forward and cocking his gun, Dean launched himself into the kitchen roaring.

“FREEZE YOU SON OF A—”

An immense crash filled the room as Carlie swung around in fright, knocking the salad bowl to the ground.

“Dean! Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing!?”

Dean didn’t move from his offensive stance, gun still outstretched and face melting into confusion. His eyes moved from the shards of porcelain mixed with tomato slices and lettuce leaves on the ground, and up to Carlie’ who was clutching one hand in the other. He saw a small cut across one of her fingers, a dark red line.

“Uh, I thought... maybe... you were being attacked.”

“You thought I was being attacked?” Carlie repeated, his eyebrows dipped in anger.

“Well, I heard movement—”

“I do tend to move around when I’m home yes.”

“And all the lights were out—”

“You might as well conserve energy in the rooms you’re not using!”

“And, well, you yelled out in pain!”

Carlie just rolled her eyes, moving across to the sink and running her finger under the tap. Dean reholstered his gun, running a hand through his hair and looking around like he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“The cupboard beside the stove – there’s a dustpan in there.”

“Oh, right, dustpan right.”

He pulled out the dustpan and leant down, beginning to sweep up the broken bowl while Carlie sucked on her finger. She pulled a box of bandaids from one of the drawers and fastened one over the cut while Dean poured the first load of shards into the bin.

“Sorry,” he said, gritting his teeth apologetically inside a goofy grin. Carlie couldn’t help but smile at his expression, and took the dustpan from him, replying, “It’s ok. You go wash up, dinner’s almost ready.”

Dean’s grin slid into his more seductive smile, and he leant down to kiss her smoothly, one hand catching her around the back and swinging her into a deeper kiss. Carlie was caught quite off guard and almost literally swept off her feet, but was placed upright a moment later when he pulled back quiet abruptly, leaving with a wink and a charming view of his well-dressed self.