Fic Title: The Road to HereAuthor: 
powerfulweakArt by: cuddle_me_carlFandom/Genre: SPN, RomancePairing(s): Castiel/Dean, brief Gabriel/Sam, brief Castiel/Michael, Brief Dean/LisaRating: PGWord Count: ~13,000Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, alcohol as a coping mechanismAuthor's Note: This was written for the 
spn_reversebang with art done by the wonderful cuddle_me_carl. I'd also like to extend a thank you to Stacie for beta reading this story. I guess you could call this a "Sliding Doors"/ How I Met Your Mother AU (without the dour ending)Summary: Dean and Castiel are always is the right place, but rarely at the right time. See how their lives intertwine through broken hearts, near-death experiences and a very fateful bus ride on a journey to each other.
***
Dean
“The Theology department occupies Davis Hall over here. We actually share a floor with the Philosophy department.” Dr. Cain points toward a large red brick building as Dean follows him across the quad. “You’ll need to stop by later today and introduce yourself to staff. The whole department is looking forward to meeting you.”
“Well, wait ‘till they sit through one one of my classes,” Dean offers with a self-deprecating tone, “We’ll see how they feel about me after that.”
Cain looks back at Dean with a warm expression. “I'm afraid your reputation precedes you,” he says. “I know Ms. Bradbury was ecstatic when she heard you'd accepted offer. She'll probably talk your ear off when she meets you.” Dean shakes his head with a soft laugh. Everyone at Berens has already made him feel more welcome than he could imagine. He sat in on Dr. Cain’s upper level Pagan Spirituality class this morning and found himself taking notes as if he was an undergrad again. The picturesque campus is larger than expected and students are engaged and enthusiastic about the topics; all of it has Dean eager to get started.
“As I said,” Dr. Cain says as he leads him toward the dining hall for lunch, “we’re not as prestigious as some schools, but we have our strengths. I think you will really like it here, Dean.” Cain reaches for the door and holds it open for him. Dean gives a grateful smile as he walks through.
“I think so, too,” he admits.
***
Castiel
A cacophony of voices hum through the lecture hall as students wait for the professor to arrive. Castiel buzzes with anticipation, his foot nervously bouncing and knocking his knee into the desk.
“Uh, can you stop that?” the scruffy-looking guy sitting next to him asks. Castiel mumbles an apology and presses a hand down against his leg as the guy turns back to browsing his phone.
Maybe he’s a little high-strung, but can anyone blame him? He’s taking some action in his life and getting off his ass. No more self-pity over Michael, no more following after someone, no more Gas n’ Sip (Well, maybe a little more Gas n’ Sip. He does still need a job, after all). Going back to school feels like unexplored territory.
Castiel had poured over the school’s website, comparing programs and majors before finally settling on getting his ASN. Berens had a solid nursing program and Castiel felt that once he got into the workforce and got a better feel for the job, he could work toward his BSN or perhaps even becoming a Nurse Practitioner.
With the help of a couple grants, a bank loan, and a small loan from Gabriel (in exchange for letting him call Castiel “Hot Lips”), Castiel walked into Berens a couple weeks later, met with an advisor, and officially became a nursing student. He doesn’t think he ever smiled so much in his life; he was elated.
Now, though, the reality of the situation was starting to set in and an endless stream of questions keep flooding into Castiel’s head. Will he be the oldest student here? How is he supposed to balance work and school? He told Nora to cut his hours. Is he still going to be able to make rent? What is he faints or pukes and gets kicked out of the program?
“You’re doing it again.” the scruffy guy gives Castiel a pointed look. Castiel once more notices that his leg’s bouncing rapidly against the desk
“Sorry,” Castiel mumbles, planting his feet on the ground.
“Dude, you got to relax.” Scruffy guy sits back in the chair and extends his legs out, adjusting his beanie over his head. “This is an intro class. It’s going to get a whole lot harder.” Castiel frowns, not at all reassured by this statement.
“First class?” A bubbly girl in front of him turns and asks.
“Yeah,” Castiel says with a shy nod. The girl reaches out and pats at his knee.
“You’ll be fine,” she says..
“I’m still having a hard time believing I’m actually doing this, “I mean a month ago, I had literally nothing to look forward to and now I’m sitting here in my first anatomy class.” The girl’s expression flickers and she and the scruffy guy share a look.
“Um… Anatomy?” She asks, her brow drawing together.
“Um, dude, this is Intro to Mythology,” the guy snorts. Castiel’s eyes go wide; he pulls a printout of his classes from his back pocket.
“Shit!” he shouts, jumping from his seat. “I’m in the wrong building.” Castiel scrambles out of the row and takes the stairs up two at a time. Just as he reaches the exit, He hears the sound of a door and the professor entering below, signaling the start of class
“Alright, everyone, thank you for being here on time. Welcome to Intro to Mythology. You can call me Professor Winchester…”
***
6 months later
Dean
Dean surfaces to consciousness, an incessant beep and chirp in his ear. His eyes flutter open, first taking in the stark, white room and bed, then noticing the monitors and machines wired to him.
“Dean?” Sam sits on the other side of the bed, his expression a mixture of relief, fear and happiness. Dean tries to shift up in bed, but a bolt of pain shoots through his wrist as he puts weight on it “Dean? Holy shit, man. Don’t move.” Sam jumps to his feet, hovering over Dean and repositioning his arm and the pillows around
“Sam? What’s going on?” Dean mumbles, settling back down in the bed and letting Sam fuss over him. The side of his head throbs and his aching wrist lies wrapped in a soft brace. He’s groggy and his head feels thick, no doubt from pain killers or whatever is being piped down from the IV attached to his hand.
“You’re in the hospital,” Sam says. “There was an accident.” Dean grimaces. Accident? He doesn’t remember and accident, only leaving his last class to go to lunch.
“You were hit by a car… um, your car.” This gets Dean’s attention. He lifts his head up to look at Sam.
“I was hit by the Impala?”
“The cops said that someone was trying to steal it,” Sam continues. “You caught them in the act. I guess you threw yourself across the hood to stop it. When they hit the breaks, you flew about ten feet into the road.” Dean meets Sam’s gaze; He looks frightened and exhausted and like he’s worn the same clothes for days.
“What’s the damage?” Dean asks, glancing down at himself.
“You have a concussion, there was some swelling on the brain,” Sam sighs. “You’ve been out for like three days. The doctors said they wouldn’t be able to check for any brain damage until you woke up.” Dean flinches at the words “brain damage”, scared of what that might mean for teaching.
“Shit,” he mutters.
“Doctor said that the damage was localized, so it’s probably going to be memory loss more than anything else.” Sam offers a reassuring smile. “They don’t think you’re going to forget how to tie your shoes or anything.” Dean snorts and looks down at his hand.
“What about this?” He carefully lifts up his left hand, displaying the brace.
“Fractured wrist,” Sam explains.“You also broke you knee pretty badly in the fall.” Dean frowns and pulls the blanket from over his lap for the first time to reveal a plaster cast over his left leg.
“Well, this sucks,” he says.
“Dean,” Sam’s expression grows serious.“This is not a joke. You could’ve died! What were you thinking throwing yourself in front of a moving car?” Dean gives a lazy shrug.
“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t even remember it happening. One moment I’m leaving class and then boom! I wake up here.” He holds out a hand uselessly and Sam’s shoulders slump.
“You really scared the shit out of me.” he drops his head forward, running his hands through his hair. “I nearly lost it when they called me and-”
“Hey, hey, look at me.” Dean reaches out for Sam with his right hand, squeezing his arm. Sam looks up at him with watery eyes. “I’m ok, Sammy, I’m ok. I’m still here. No ‘what if’ scenarios, got it? You’ll just drive yourself crazy.” Sam bites at his lip and nods.
“Just… Just promise me you won’t do anything that stupid again, ok?” he asks sincerely. Dean smiles and nods.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Has Dad come by?”
“Yeah, he’s been around,” Sam replies. “Everyone has been by, actually: Jo, Ellen, Bobby. They all left for the night though. I just volunteered to stay in case anything happened.”
“How’s the car?” Dean asks after a moment, fearing the worst. If someone stole her and hit him with it, there’s no telling how much damage she sustained.
“The Impala’s fine,” Sam reassures. “The driver freaked out after he hit you and took off on foot. Cops caught him a few hours later. There’s a dent across the hood where you landed on it and a couple other dings, but Bobby said he’ll take care of all of those.” Sam tips his chin toward Dean’s bandaged leg. “Not like you’re going to be driving for awhile, anyway.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dean replies dismally. There’s a soft knock at the door as the doctor enters the room to evaluate Dean. He details the extent of his injuries and what he should expect during recovery. Dean hears words like “surgery,” “Displaced fracture,” and
“Physical Therapy” but he’s half listening. The only thing Dean takes away is that he’s got a long road ahead of him.
***
Castiel
The snow comes down in big, flat flakes outside the window, drifting over every surface and coating the campus in a thick layer of white. Castiel watches with fascination, following the path of an especially large snowflake as it spins and dances downward before landing on a nearby bench.
“Castiel? Earth to Clarence!” Meg’s voice startles Castiel out of his headspace. He notices that the entire study group is watching him expectantly.
“Uh, sorry… I got distracted,” he mumbles, flipping the page in his text book. The group leader, Hester, gives him a tight smile and continues firing off questions to other members.
“You ok there, Clarence?” Meg asks to his right, not looking up as she scratches notes onto an index card. She shoots him a curious look.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he mutters, pushing up his glasses and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Just getting burned out, I guess.” Meg snorts.
“We have five exams and then it’s winter break,” she tells him. “You just have to get through the next three weeks.”
“That’s what I keep reminding myself,” he says, scribbling a note in the margin of his textbook. As exhausted as he is, he has no regrets about entering the nursing the program. Every class he takes only seems to solidify that he’s found his calling in the medical world. It’s only been one semester, and his enthusiasm has yet to wane.If only his body would get the message; the physical exhaustion of a full course load is catching up with him in a big way.
Castiel takes a long sip from his coffee cup and continues to take notes as Hester quizzes him and his fellow students. She’s cut off abruptly by a loud rattle.
“Donations for Professor Winchester.” A pair of girls walk through the library, shaking a metal can full of coins and soliciting donations. “Give a little for Professor Winchester’s medical fund.”
“Excuse me,” Hester calls out, raising her voice just above and acceptable library level. “Hey, can you two keep it-”
“Want to donate to Professor Winchester’s medical fund?” A girl with a long, dark ponytail jogs toward the group, can extended out in her hand.
Hester tries to be diplomatic. “This is not really appropriate for-”
“Professor Winchester was hit by a car a last week after stopping a robbery.” A small blond girl, hair half-braided over the side of her head, interrupts. “He has severe injuries and now we’re collecting money to help with his medical bills and recovery while he’s on leave.”
Hester’s polite smile falters as she tries to shoo the girls away. “I’m sure the school will take-” She’s cut off as Meg rises to her feet.
“Here,” she says, pulling a ten out of her pocket and depositing it in the can. “Is he still in the hospital?” Both girls nod.
“He’s going to need surgery and will probably be gone all of next semester,” the dark-haired girl explains.
“Well, that’s a shitty way to spend Christmas,” Meg says. She turns and shoots the rest of the group an accusing look. “Well?” A few kids sheepishly rise to their feet, dropping a couple bills or a handful of change into the can.
“Do you know the guy?” Castiel asks as Meg takes the seat next to him again.
“Winchester? No,” she replies with a brief headshake. “But I was sick of Hester trying to throw her weight around.” She turns back to her book. Castiel watches the girls move through the group for a minute before standing and pulling a ten from his wallet.
“Tell Professor Winchester Merry Christmas,” he says, depositing the bill into the can. Both girls flash him a grateful smile before moving on to the next group of studying students.
“Ok, enough interruptions,” Hester says, bringing the focus of the group back around. “Who can outline the nursing care plan for respiratory acidosis?” A guy raises his hand and begins to recite from memory. Castiel tries to listen, but Meg elbows him in the side to get his attention.
“Are you still looking for a roommate?” she whispers. Castiel nods; Gabriel had told him a couple weeks ago that he’d invited his girlfriend Kali to move in. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but from Gabriel’s apologetic expression, it was clear that this meant Castiel had to move out.
“Yeah, you know someone who’s looking?” he asks.
“Yeah. Me,” She looks up at him with a grin. Castiel's eyes widen in surprise. He and Meg are friendly, but their interactions are almost exclusively school related. What on Earth makes her think they’d be good roommates.
“Are you sure about that?” He mumbles. “We don’t know each other that well.” Meg laughs softly. Hester shoots them both a glare and taps a finger to her lips.
“Believe me, Clarence, I have had roommates who were good friends before, and I never want to go through that again.” Meg says quietly. “I much prefer strangers… Or near-strangers. Besides, I need an excuse not to move in with my girlfriend.”
“You… don’t want to move in with her?” he asks.
“I love Bela, but she is crazy as shit,” Meg sighs. “So what do you say? I got a room available now.” Castiel takes a second to consider before nodding in response.
“Yeah, ok,” he says, and turns his attention back to studying.
***
1 Year Later
Dean
Dean’s in love.
Lisa is close to perfect. She’s gorgeous, smart, caring, bendy as all hell… everything Dean would want in a relationship. She’s also his physical therapist.
The first day he hobbled into her office on crutches, only a handful of weeks after his accident, Dean hadn’t been expecting long, dark hair and deep, soulful brown eyes with a body straight out of a Playboy. He’d flirted with her, of course, but from “go” Lisa meant business. It only made Dean like her more.
She was tough with him, making him push himself when she knew he could go further, but was still friendly and personable, doling out encouragement just when Dean needed it. After sessions, Dean would stick around and they’d talk about their lives and interests. Dean learned that Lisa was recently separated with a young son, she was a yogi, and she has a couple tattoos from a wild past that makes her the subject of a lot of gossip in her suburban neighborhood.
Talks soon turned into coffee which became dinners. Dean was smitten and it was impossible to hide, but Lisa was firm with him- it was unethical for her to date clients.
“Then we’ll wait until I’m not a client,” Dean suggested. “I got what what? Four? Five months left?”
“Closer to six,” Lisa said, “but that’s really something for your Ortho to decide.” Dean was dismayed, but not enough to give up. He spent time with Lisa and her son Ben, “as friends” he was always quick to add, joining them at the zoo or at Ben’s baseball games. Being with them felt like having a family of his own, the white picket fence and everything.
The first time they kissed was outside Lisa’s backporch. Dean was finally able to walk without support and had come over to fix a leak under the kitchen sink. They stepped out the back door for a beer after he finished and Dean took the chance, swooping in and cupping her cheek as their lips met. It lasted only a brief second, with Lisa pushing away and mumbling something about “not appropriate.” Dean nodded in agreement, but more than anything he wanted to move the kiss further.
He was willing to wait, though.
“You’re doing great, Dean,” Lisa encourages as Dean works the leg extension machine. “Five more reps. You can do this!” Dean nods and exhales steadily, continuing to rebuild his leg strength. Even though it’s been months since the cast came off, the physical difference in his muscles is still evident.
“3… 2… 1 and relax,” Lisa instructs. Dean slowly lowers his legs and leans forward, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve. Lisa picks up a clipboard and makes a note.
“I’d say if you aren’t already back to full range of motion, you’re close to it.” She shoots him an encouraging smile.
“All thanks to you,” Dean replies as he stands from the machine. He grabs his water bottle and takes a long drink, sidling up to Lisa where she stands at a nearby counter.
“I’m going to send this information tp to your Ortho tonight, but I doubt you’re going to require regular PT anymore.” Lisa says as she makes a few more notes and signs her name across the bottom. She looks up at Dean, smiling warmly. “Guess you won’t need me, then.” Dean moves forward, placing his hand over hers.
“I’m always going to need you, Lis.” He leans in for a kiss, but she pulls away.
“Dean, don’t,” Lisa mumbles. Dean stares at her, thrown by the reaction.
“But… But I won’t be your patient anymore,” he says. “It’s ok. We can do this now.” Lisa bites at her lip and looks away.
“Dean, it’s not right,” she says. “I mean, it still doesn’t look good ethically, but… Dean, I’m married.”
“But you’re getting divorced.” Dean takes a step forward and tries to take Lisa’s hand, but she pulls away and shakes her head.
“We’re working it out,” she admits quietly. “Matt and I… We’re going to try again… For Ben.” Dean’s stares at her in confused silence.
“I don’t understand,” he murmurs. Lisa shakes her head.
“Ben needs a Dad,” she says. “He needs his dad
“I could be that!” Dean insists, still too stunned for there to be any real anger in his words. “You know I’m crazy about him, and you.”
“I know, but… Dean, there’s so much more to it.” She moves past him and takes a seat on a nearby bench. “We’re so different, Dean. We’re different people, we want different things.”
“A lot of couples are different,” Dean says, “and they work. People can change.”
“I don’t want to ask you to change,” Lisa states finally. “And I don’t want to have to change for you. We can’t do this.” It feels like all the air has been punched out of Dean’s lungs.
“I know… I know you think you want this, but I’ve been in this situation before. Maybe it’s that Florence Nightingale thing, or something else,” She continues. “I don’t know, but we both deserve better.” There is a long stretch of silence between them, the only noise coming from the rattle of the Gym’s air system.
“That’s bullshit,” Dean blurts out. Lisa gives him an exasperated look.
“Dean, please don’t make this harder than it is,” she says. “I need to give my marriage a second chance. I owe it to Ben. I owe it to Matt.” Dean wants to scream “What about me?” but he can’t seem to find his voice.
“Do you love him?” He finally chokes out. Lisa gives a stiff nod. “Do you love me?” Dean gives her a hopeful expression, but she only stares back at him with sympathetic brown eyes.
“I’m sorry, Dean.” She rises to her feet. “It’s probably best if you go.” Dean walks out of the rehabilitation center, feeling like he’s watching an image of himself rather than living it. He slips into the front seat of the Impala, the icy leather beneath him bringing him back to reality and grounding him. He hold the keys above the ignition for a moment, before changing his mind and dropping them onto the bench seat.
Dean’s forehead falls against the wheel with a soft thud. “Fuck.”
***
Castiel
Castiel smiles as he flips through Gabriel’s phone, smiling photos of him and his girlfriend staring back at him. The last few pictures feature Kali flipping the camera the bird, a massive engagement ring featured on her extended finger.
“Aaaaand I think you can stop scrolling there,” Gabriel says as he grabs the cellphone out of Castiel’s hand. “Unless you want to see my fiancee in some compromising positions.” Castiel snorts and takes a sip of his beer smiles at the other man.
“It sounds so weird to hear you call someone a fiancee,” he says. Gabriel’s eyes go wide and he nods in agreement.
“Tell me about it.” he mutters. “I think I might start saying ‘my girlfriend who I’m marrying.’” Gabriel drains his bottle and hold up two fingers toward the petite, blond bartender, signaling for another round. The Roadhouse is packed, especially considering it’s a Thursday. Castiel has never been here before, but from the way the staff reacts to him, Gabriel is something of a regular.
The bartender nods, reaching into the cooler and grabbing out a pair of Heinekens. She drops them onto the bar in front of the two men.
“So I haven’t seen you in weeks man,” Gabriel says. “What’s going on? School’s good?”
“School’s great,” Castiel answers with an honest smile. “One semester and I’ll have my associates.”
“That’s great, man.” Gabriel clinks his bottle against Castiel’s. “You think you’re going to continue?” Castiel nods.
“Yeah, I think so,” he says. “Meg and I are looking into a couple hospitals with student nursing programs.” Gabriel nods.
“How is the thorny Miss Masters?” he asks with a smirk.
“She’s fine,” Castiel answers. “Single again.” Gabriel’s brows pop up in interest.
“Really?”
“Hey, you’re getting married,” Castiel scolds. “I wouldn’t want to see what would happen to you if Kali found out you cheated on her.”
“Who said I wasn’t looking for something for Kali?” Gabriel gives a wink and Castiel shakes his head with a laugh. He sometimes forgets how much he liked spending time with Gabriel. Not only is he a fun guy to hang out with, he’s viciously loyal. He took Castiel in when he was at his lowest and continued to offer help until he was on his feet again. Friends like Gabriel only come around once in a lifetime and Castiel knows not to take it for granted.
“What about your lovelife?” Gabriel shoots him a curious look.
“What lovelife?” Castiel snorts as he takes a pull off his beer bottle.
“Really? There’s no one you interested in? Maybe fucking on the side.”
“I go to school and I go to work,” Castiel sighs. “I don’t have time to date.”
“Bullshit,” Gabriel mutters as he takes a drink.
“It’s not bullshit,” Castiel insists. “I have a full course load, labs, study groups, 25 hours a week at the gas station, I’m helping out at the library-”
“And none of that can be cut out for for dating?”
“Having a romantic relationship isn’t necessary for survival,” Castiel points out, his fingers worrying the corner of his beer label.
“So are you saying you don’t want a romantic relationship?” Gabriel asks. “Or a sexual one.”
“Yes, I want those, just… not right now, ok?” Castiel says. “I have no time for another person and-”
“You do have time,” Gabriel says. “If you wanted to get out there and start seeing people, you could make time. Don’t act like I don’t see when you’re online playing Halo.” Castiel looks down in embarrassment. He rolls the corner of the beer label down farther.
“I get that school is a precedent. I understand.” Gabriel says. “But as soon as you get a job, that will be your excuse. Then it will be more school or a better job.”
“What are you getting at?” Castiel bites out in annoyance, separating the label from the bottle.
“There will always be an excuse,” Gabriel says solemnly. “There will always be a reason not to put yourself out there. You were hurt in the past-”
“This isn’t about, Michael.” Castiel interrupts.
“I never said it was,” Gabriel replies, “But me thinks thou doth protest too much.” Castiel pouts and take an angry drink of his beer.
“What I was saying was that there’s always a reason to not put yourself out there, for anything… jobs, school, family, love, whatever. If you want something, you have to ignore those excuses and just get it. The Secret doesn’t work for shit, Castiel. The universe isn’t going to just drop good things into your lap because you want them.” Gabriel punctuates his sentence by taking a long drink of his beer and slamming it back down on the bar, sending a small spout of foam shooting out the top. The blond bartender rolls her eyes and comes over with a rag to wipe up the mess.
Castiel stews on Gabriel’s words. He does want to be in a relationship again; Michael hurt him badly but not enough to ward him off being with a person for the rest of his life. He glances at his beer bottle, both the front and back labels peeled away and the one on the neck to follow soon.
“See, you’re sexually frustrated,” Gabriel points to the now-bare bottle in his hand. “That’s what that means. You are not getting enough good dick.” Castiel laughs as he takes a sip of his beer, choking and sending foam up
“You are so vulgar sometimes,” he croaks out.
“What’s wrong with ‘good dick?’” Gabriel asks, loud enough to be heard above the normal murmur of the bar. “Everyone needs good dick. One good dick deserves another.” He elbows Castiel playfully in the side.
“Seriously, stop,” Castiel says, still laughing and choking. Gabriel snorts as the blond bartender shoots them another exasperated look.
“Blondie wants to fight me,” Gabriel mutters. “but I would never fight someone so lovely.”
“Call your girlfriend-who-you’re-going-to-marry,” Castiel offers. “She’d do it.”
“Naw, they’d just end up making out on the pool table,” Gabriel mutters. “Actually, on second thought…” He pulls out his cellphone and taps on the phone icon.
***
Dean
Dean stares at his computer screen, the Google doc in front of him turning into gibberish. He rubs at his eyes and attempts to focus, rereading a sentence for the third time. Across the office from him, his TA Charlie tuts her tongue and she flips through in-class essays and enters scores in the grading matrix.
“Jeez, Dean, you’ve been a little harsh with your comments, don't you think?” She asks. Dean leans to the side to look past the computer’s screen toward her.
“I don't sugar-coat things, Charlie,” he replies.
“Yeah, I know, but usually you don't poison-coat things either.” She holds up one essay to read the comment. “‘The Pope and the Patriarch will heal the great schism before you will get an A in this class.’ That's just mean, dude.” Dean frowns and looks back toward his screen. Charlie might have a point; his mood has been pretty sour lately, but it’s just because he’s burned out. The semester is almost over and next year he's supposed to be up for tenure. The whole matter is stressing him out.
“Are you still dwelling on the whole Lisa thing?” Charlie asks. Dean’s head shoots up.
“Wha- What?” he sputters. “What are you talking about?” Charlie just levels a deadpan look at him.
“Ever since Lisa effectively went all finishing move on your heart, you’ve been taking your pain out on your students.” She points out.
Dean scoffs. “I have not!” He knows how to separate his personal life from his professional one. Charlie raises an eyebrow.
“Really? Because I've had to edit some scathing comments out of students essays in the last three months.” She clicks a couple times on the track pad of her laptop. “I've saved the best ones: ‘The Greek gods had less drama than this run on sentence,’ ‘go meditate on why I refuse to read any more of this shit,’ ‘Learn how to hold a fucking pencil.’” She turns back to him. “You've also been more short fused in class, lately. I swear I thought Harry was going to cry after you laid into him last week.”
Dean’s face flushed in embarrassment. He hadn't realized he was being such an ass.
“I'm sorry Charlie, I just…” He shrugs. “You might be right. I'm still dealing with the whole Lisa thing, y’know?” Charlie stares at him for a moment, brow furrowed in thought.
“Why?” she asks.
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“I mean why are you still hung up on Lisa?” she asks. “You’re acting like she was your soulmate, when in reality you two were like night and day.” Charlie's words too closely mirror Lisa’s own, and Dean scowls.
“I was in love,” Dean reminds her, “and she broke my heart.” Charlie leans forward on the desk.
“You didn't love her, Dean.” Dean opens his mouth to argue, but Charlie keeps going. “Yeah, Lisa was gorgeous and you were attracted to her, but any halfway-decent looking person could have replaced her and it wouldn't have made any difference to you.”
“That's not true,” Dean stammers out.
“Dean, I hung out with you two, remember?” Charlie comes around her desk and sits on the corner, facing him. “All of your conversations revolved around her son. That’s it.”
“Well, Ben is a great kid,” Dean interjects.
“Yeah, but you should have more in common with someone before you enter into a relationship with them,” Charlie points out.
“Jesus, Dean, she was a vegan yogi who didn’t own a car. What did you guys even talk about?” Dean opens his mouth, but hesitates on answering. It’s true; he and Lisa’s conversation usually centered on Dean’s recovery or on Ben. Anytime any other subject was bridged, it usually resulted in blank stares from the other person.
“I know you cared for her and for her son,” Charlie says, “but there is a big difference between caring for someone and loving them.”
“So you’re saying I wasn’t in love?” Dean asks, anger rising in his voice.
“I think you loved the idea of Lisa, of what she represented,” Charlie pushes herself up onto the desk and leans back on her arms.
“She had exactly what you wanted: house, kid, picket fence, suburban life. It was a ready-made family.”
“And that’s a bad thing because...?”
“It’s not, Dean. It’s fine to want those things, but you’ve got to want your partner more. Be honest, If Lisa hadn’t had all of that, would you have given her much thought past occasional spank bank material?” Dean frowns and averts his eyes, his answer left unsaid.
Charlie’s words cut deep, but they still ring true. After years of pushing the idea aside, Dean is finally ready to admit he wants to settle down and be with someone. He wants to make a life with a person and build a family.
“I’m not trying to be mean,” Charlie says, “but I hate seeing you all morose and shit.”
Dean offers up a small smile. “I appreciate the tough love, Charlie. Really.” Charlie grins.
“Look, you’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard lately. Why don’t let me help get your mind off of everything?” Dean raises a curious eyebrow as Charlie grabs a post it note and a pen off of her desk. “Dorothy and I are doing a movie night this Friday. Just a few friends and drinks, that kind of thing. Why don’t you come by?” She hands the bright yellow note to Dean, and address scratched across it.
“That sound cool. Sure,” Dean says, tucking the note into his pocket.
“We’re starting at around 5:30, but feel free to show up whenever. I live just a few blocks from campus, off of Garrison road.” Dean nods and thanks Charlie, before turning back to his computer.
***
Castiel
As he steps out of the building on Friday afternoon, a wave of relief washes over Castiel. He only has a few weeks left until the end of the semester and his ASN. It’s like the light at the end of the tunnel is finally visible. Castiel still plans on going further and getting his Nurse Practioner certification, but just reaching this first milestone is huge. Even with finals are just around the corner, Castiel feels none of the normal tension and anxiety. Instead he just feels pumped.
Castiel walks across the quad and off-campus. It’s a gorgeous, sunny spring afternoon, the breeze cool enough to keep him comfortable, and, rather than walking toward his and Meg’s apartment, Castiel decides to head down Garrison Road
He strolls along the winding street, admiring the historic and offbeat architecture. The spire of a church rises above the trees and Castiel makes a mental note to explore it one day; he’s always had a fondness for churches.
He spots the sign for Thompson Books and Stationary in the distance. He smiles to himself, deciding that today calls for a celebration and perhaps a new book for himself. He stops at the crosswalk, waiting for traffic to clear and the “walk” sign to appear, and heads for the bookstore.
***
Dean
Friday afternoon, Dean forgoes taking his car in favor of walking to Charlie’s place. Google maps says that she’s only a 20 minute walk away. Dean knows that he would spend far longer than that searching for parking on Garrison Road, especially on a Friday afternoon just as people start to fill up the local bars and restaurants.
The weather is gorgeous today, though, and Dean doesn’t mind. He slings his jacket over his arm, enjoying the fresh air. He sees Thompson Books and Stationery, a local shop he’s heard several students mention, and next to that a mini mart. An idea suddenly occurs to Dean: Movie Nights require black licorice. He reaches the crosswalk, pressing the button and waiting until there are no cars in sight before walking across.
***
Castiel
Castiel is already engulfed in his new book as he leaves the shop. He meanders down Garrison Road, eyes fixed on the page before him. He barely spares a glance as he takes a step from the curb, not noticing the car that-
“Whoa, buddy! Are you trying to get run over?” A rough voice exclaims and a hand wraps around his arm, pulling him back. Castiel startles and stumbles backwards, crashing into a firm, warm body and dropping his book.
“I’m so sorry,” Castiel gasps, his heart hammering in his chest from the shock and fear; a car comes speeding around the corner right where he would’ve been walking. “I wasn’t paying attention where i was walking.”
“I’ll say,” the voice says, releasing his arm. “Take it from me, getting hit by a car sucks.” His voice comes out garbled, as is he’s eating. Castiel laughs lowly and leans down to pick up his book.
“I believe you. Can’t say I’ve ever had the desire to walk out… ” He trails off as he looks up for the first time, taken aback by the stunning, freckle-faced man with the warm green eyes standing above him. The man smiles and removes a black licorice rope hanging from the corner of his mouth before offering Castiel a hand up.
“Thank you,” he mumbles shyly as he gets to his feet.
“Mind me asking what has you so fascinated that you’re ready to walk out into traffic?” The guy raises an eyebrow and flashes a smirk; if Castiel didn’t know better, he’d say the guy was flirting with him. He gives an embarrassed chuckle and holds up his now-scuffed book. The guy’s brow furrow.
“Breakfast of Champions?” he asks, taking the book fro Castiel and flipping through it. “You like Vonnegut?”
“I suppose,” he answers with a shrug. “I haven’t read too many of his books, but I’ve enjoyed the few I have.” The guy flashes a full on grin and Castiel can’t help smiling back.
“What’s your favorite?” he asks, handing back the book.
“Uh, I liked Slaughterhouse Five quite a bit,” he says. The guy pouts out his lip, nodding in agreement.
“That one’s really good. I think I prefer Cat’s Cradle. More cerebral, y’know.” Castiel smiles and nods, despite never having read the book he mentioned. “This one’s a close second, though. It’s funny and gets really self-referential.”
“Yeah, it’s captivating,” Castiel offers, “I couldn’t put it down… as you saw.” They both chuckle softly before a bout of silence settles between them. Castiel smiles at the man; he finds himself not wanting to end their conversation. It's been so long since he's allowed himself to be interested in anyone and this random stranger makes him want to make up for lost time. Gabriel's words echo in his head: there will always be a reason not to. If you want something, you have to ignore your excuses.
Castiel is sick of excuses.
“Hey, um, if you're not busy or anything, do you want to grab a coffee or something?” He asks, much too fast. He holds his breath as he waits for an answer, the other man’s expression faltering.
“I'd love to,” he answers. “I mean, I was supposed to meet some friends tonight-”
“Oh, please don't break your plans for me.” Castiel interjects. “I can always get your-”
“No, no, it's ok,” the guys makes a dismissive gesture. “I can show up anytime, they won't mind. And coffee sounds… Amazing.”
Castiel can feel a blush rising to his face. “Great. I know a great place a couple blocks away.”
“Lead the way.” The guy gestures down the sidewalk. He offers his hand out to Castiel. “I'm Dean, by the way.”
“Castiel,” he replies, shaking his hand. Dean’s grip is strong and warm.
“It's wonderful to meet you, Castiel,” Dean says.
“Same. Hello, Dean,” he replies. “Shall we?” He gesture in the direction of the cafe and they continued down the road, side by side, as an easy conversation falls between them.
***
Present Day
Dean
Dean follows his brother down the stairs and into the church vestibule. He stops short when he spots Cas standing before the doors leading to the chapel, looking amazing in his tuxedo. He’s lost in thought, closely examining the their wedding program as he waits. Dean takes a second to gather himself, struck by just the sight of Castiel.
“Hey there, handsome.” He bounces down the last step, putting on his best swagger. “Going my way?” Castiel looks up and smiles at Dean.
“I should hope so,” he says as he sets down the program. He reaches out, taking Dean’s hand as he takes the spot next to him.
“I’ll be back in a minute, guys,” Sam says. “I’m just going to make sure the Reverend has everything he needs.” Cas and Dean nod in unison and Sam disappears into the Chapel. Dean squeezes his hand.
“You look amazing,” he says, lifting Cas’ knuckles up for a kiss.
“So do you,” Castiel replies. “I can’t believe we’re here right now.”
“What? In the church? Getting Married?” Dean asks, looking up at Cas.
“Well, yeah, but just… us, being here,” Castiel gestures vaguely between them. “Dean, do you ever think about how we met?”
“Sure,” Dean shrugs.
“No, I mean really think about it,” a look of concern crosses his face. “Had I just stayed in the bookshop a moment longer or had you decided to drive to Charlie’s… We would have never have met.” Dean’s brow furrows as he considers this.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he says.
“And that… that doesn’t bother you?” Castiel looks anxious and Dean turns to face him, taking both of his hands.
“Cas, I think we met each other at exactly the right time,” he says. Castiel gives him a doubtful look. “No, really, think about it- if I had met you even six months earlier, I would’ve still been hung up on Lisa. You would’ve been too deep into your work load. Neither one of us was ready for a relationship.” Dean gives him a pointed look and Castiel smiles reluctantly, nodding in agreement.
“I mean, if you want to go back even farther,” Dean continues. “Can you imagine what would have happened if I met your hungover ass the day I picked up Sam from Gabriel’s apartment?” That earns a laugh from Castiel and Dean takes the opportunity to tilt his chin up, planting a tender kiss on his mouth. Castiel inhales sharply and presses his tongue past Dean’s lips, deepening the kiss.
Dean’s hands slide around his waist and pull him in closer as Cas’ arms wrap over Dean’s shoulders.
A throat clearing brings everything to an abrupt halt.
“Uh, guys?” Sam says. “We kind of have a ceremony to do before we get to that part.” Cas and Dean separate, hands still clasped together. Dean mutters “bitch” to Sam under his breath, receiving a mumbled “jerk” in return. Sam opens the chapel doors all eyes turning to face them.
“You ready?” Dean whispers, glancing at Cas out of the corner of his eye. Castiel nods, his eyes bright with happy tears.
“Yes. I am.” He squeezes Dean’s hand one more time as they start down the aisle.
