Chapter Text
“... I...”
Dean hesitates, knowing that Sam and Castiel won't like what he has to say.
At least it’s only a phone call, so he won’t have to see Sam’s disappointed bitchface. He will be able to imagine it though... “I don’t know what I'm gonna do yet.”
Before they can yell at him, he hurries to continue. “I can’t just- randomly tell him, he'll know something is up and he can't find out I saw his texts. For now I'll just... make sure he knows I'm not straight, I guess.”
There's a brief judgemental silence from Sam and Cass, and then the latter's voice cuts across, short and annoyed.
“That's stupid.”
There's an audible rustling as Castiel picks his own phone up off the charger, speaking matter-of-factly. “He confessed his crush to me already. I'll just text him to say you confessed to me too so he can ask you out now without fear. Or, if you would prefer to take the initiative, I can just tell him to expect you to ask him on a date.”
“He’s afraid to ask me out?” Dean can't imagine that he's come across as so uninterested and homophobic that Lucifer would actually be afraid to even try.
Then again, he's also kind of on edge about asking Lucifer the same thing. And, he has proof that he's got a chance.
“...You can be intimidating in that respect.” Castiel tells him. “To be more accurate, it’s more like caution than fear. He doesn't want to risk ruining the relationship he currently has with you.”
Yeah, that sounds like how Dean feels too.
But, he can’t let Castiel solve his problem for him. “Cass, don't. Just- I know it's stupid, but I gotta figure this out myself. Lucifer and I can’t have you do all the talking for us, okay? We're grown ass men, we can pony up and speak for ourselves.”
The angel sounds annoyed as he responds. “Promise me you will talk to him, Dean.”
“I will. No more fucking around, okay, Cass? I'll figure something out.”
“If you don’t have this ‘figured out’ by tomorrow Dean, I'm telling him for you. We’ve all had more than enough of your kitty-footing.” Castiel’s air quotes are audible, even over the phone.
“-- Pussy-footing,” Sam corrects his boyfriend gently.
Cass gives a soft huff before continuing. “What Sam said. It was bad enough when it wasn’t hurting Lucifer, but now that you know this is being used against him, you need to put it to an end, Dean. If you won’t, I will.”
“You won't need to, buddy. I promise.” Dean’s response is soft, sedated, even. He knows that Castiel is right, and he really doesn’t want Lucifer to suffer more than he already has. It’s just… figuring out how the hell he’s supposed to go about fixing this, that is the hard part.
“I will hold you to that.”
It’s then that Sam interrupts, dragging the subject back away from Dean's love life. “Okay, now that that's settled... What exactly are we doing about Crowley?”
“He’s dead meat.” Dean responds immediately, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Neither Cass nor Sam intends to argue, however. “Yeah, I know that,” Sam huffs, his bitchface once again audible. Dean can perfectly visualise the eye roll paired with that tight frown and creased brow. “I mean how?”
“We need to find him-- or set a trap…” Castiel suggests. “He doesn’t know that we know he’s harassing Lucifer. We can use that to our advantage, tell him we intend to make a deal with him, and lay a trap.”
“That’s one plan,” Sam agrees. “But he’s the King of Hell. It shouldn’t be too hard to just go down there and find him.”
“Where all his lackeys are? I don’t think so.” Dean sighs, thumping his head back against the seat. “As much as I wanna go down there and kick his ass… it doesn’t do Lucifer any good if we end up dead too.”
After all, when they die, he dies.
“… yeah, point taken.”
“We need to think this through more. And not over the phone.” Castiel eventually decides with a sigh. “Text us where to meet you two and we'll start heading that way.”
Sam agrees that they need to think first, so he starts to wrap up the conversation. “He's right, Dean. You just focus on Lucifer, try to get him to talk about the texts himself, ask him out on a date already, and tell him we're coming to meet you. We'll think of a story and a plan for how we’re going after Crowley on the way.”
Dean nods, then remembers that they can’t see him. “Yeah... okay, guys. I'll text you the address.” he's about to hang up when he remembers something. “Oh, Cass. Uh, Lucifer did want me to tell you something... he said he found that thing you wanted?”
“What thing?”
That gets a little snort from Dean. “he didn’t say. Just told me that you'd know what he means.”
“Oh, that thing.” Comes Castiel's response, much to both Winchesters' confusion. “Thank you, let him know I'll get it from him when Sam and I arrive.”
Dean really, really wants to ask.
He doesn’t have to though, because Sam does. “What is it?”
“Just something I asked him to keep an eye out for.” Dean can practically see Castiel waving Sam off. “It isn’t of import. Goodbye, Dean!”
There’s a click and... that’s the end of that.
Good timing, at least. Dean can see the delivery car pulling into a nearby space, meaning the food Lucifer ordered is here already.
He gets out of the impala, quickly texting the motel's address to Sam and Castiel before slipping his phone back into his pocket and heading to meet the driver.
“That for room 113?” he asks as he approaches, pulling cash from his wallet.
“Yep,” the driver responds, setting the food on the hood of his car while he fishes out a receipt for Dean. “26.74, want any sauces?”
“I think we’re good.” Dean hands him a twenty and a ten, taking the food and the receipt. “Thanks, enjoy your shift.”
The driver gives him a friendly nod, getting back into his car. “Have a good day, man. See you around.”
He gives the guy a quick wave, heading back into the motel room with their bags of food. Lucifer ordered them Chinese takeout- a good call. Somehow Lucifer always knows what food Dean is craving before he even knows.
The smell reminds him of the first meal Lucifer ate at the bunker. He can still vividly recall that first day; how weak and frightened Lucifer had looked after they went to retrieve him from the dungeon. Then, Dean had felt a little bad but hadn’t really felt any remorse. Back then, Lucifer was just their enemy.
Now, Lucifer is so much more to him, and the memory is painful.
Wouldn’t Lucifer hate the smell of it too? He’s had it plenty of times since, of course… but doesn’t he associate that smell with what he experienced in the dungeon? Dean has noticed him avoiding certain things (like strong alcohol) because he associates them with bad memories… so why doesn’t the takeout fall into that category?
Maybe he’ll ask.
Or… maybe he shouldn’t.
But, it might make a good segue into telling Luce he cares about him-- enough to notice little things like that.
All this thinking is getting him nowhere. He's Dean Winchester, he needs to stop trying to think things through and just do something. Something dumb, preferably.
After all, pulling off dumb ideas is kind of his speciality.
(It's a shame that Valentine’s Day has already passed. He could have just gotten Lucifer chocolates and asked him to be his Valentine. That would have been easier.)
He heads into the room, glad to see that Lucifer is already dressed. He's already had an eyeful or two of his friend half-naked after a shower, and it was... well, traumatic isn’t the right word, but it feels like it could be.
“Did you tell Castiel I found his thing?” Lucifer asks, snapping Dean out of his thoughts.
Good thing, too, because Dean was starting to imagine Lucifer naked, and that is a bad train of thought. “Yeah, he says thanks. And he'll get it from you today, Sam and Cass finished up their hunt last night and they're coming to meet up with us.”
“Sweet,” Lucifer answers with a nod, smiling a bit as he takes the bags from Dean and starts splitting up the food. “It'll be nice to see them again. How soon will they get here?”
“Not sure, probably late tonight.”
“Plenty of time to wrap up this hunt before they get here, then.”
Dean releases a soft snort. They only got here last night. “We don’t even know what it is, Luce.”
“Funny you should say that,” the former archangel comments, starting on his chow mein. “I had an idea while we were driving, and I did a bit of googling, and it turns out that little Jefferson Township has a cave system. It’s likely the only tourist attraction.” He reaches for his phone and pulls up his browser. Dean feels a slight pang of regret at the sight of the device, but he hides it by also eating his food.
“I’m listening…”
“Look,” Lucifer shows him a news article from almost twenty years ago. “The Zane Shawnee Caverns allow guided tours, and, up until ten years ago, they allowed free-spelunking.”
“Free what?” Dean asks, brows raised and mouth half full of food.
“Spelunking,” Lucifer responds almost dismissively. “Deep cave exploring. Basically, you rented gear, and you could explore the caves to your heart’s content. Alone, or with a group, however you wanted to. Anyways, the article says that the local High School’s DECA club got together over a long weekend and went to these caves. There was a bad storm, the cave system ended up partially flooding, and they got trapped down there. The guide they hired broke his neck and died during the initial flash flood.”
Dean is listening, a little amazed by how quickly Lucifer has put this together. “Sounds tragic. What does that have to do with the disappearances?”
“The story’s not over.” Lucifer puts his finger up, swallowing and then setting his chopsticks aside as he continues. “The group brought rations for about two days; they were trapped in the caves for over a week. A search-and-rescue team was sent in once the storm was over, but they didn’t find any survivors. In fact, they didn’t find any trace of two of the high schoolers at all. And two of the bodies they found had been partially dismembered.”
“Only you could say that like it’s a good thing,” Dean responds, shaking his head fondly.
Lucifer rolls his eyes, frustrated that Dean isn’t getting it. “They suspected cannibalism, but none of the other autopsies revealed human flesh in the stomach cavity,” he adds, waiting for Dean to catch on.
It takes a second, but then the hunter understands. “Shit, you think it’s a wendigo? This far south?”
“It makes sense, considering both of the disappearances have been near the cave systems. And with how cold it gets this time of year…” Lucifer responds a bit defensively, going back to his food.
Dean doesn’t know how he can eat after telling that story. He wonders how Lucifer even made that connection, until he remembers his friend pointing the roadside advertisement out as they went to check out the place both victims were last seen. “You got all that from a billboard, Luce?”
“I had nothing better to do than google things while you circled the town eight times looking for a motel.” Lucifer points out, making a light jab at his friend.
As the beginning of their easy banter puts a smile on his face, Dean is struck once again by how much he just… really likes working with and talking to Lucifer.
Now would be the perfect time to say it.
That thought is like ice water dumped over his head, bringing him back to reality with a chilling swiftness. No, not yet. He doesn’t want the sentiment to hit Lucifer out of nowhere, he might surprise him too much and scare him off. Or worse… make him suspicious.
“It was five, tops.” Dean protests, returning to his food with a fond roll of his eyes.
That gets a snort from his friend. “You don’t fool me, Dean Winchester. We passed the same gas station at least eight times, I counted.”
“I call bull, you had your nose in your phone the whole time.” Dean rebukes without missing a beat, glad for the light-hearted argument to ease his mood after this morning.
“Not the whole time.”
“Yes, the whole time.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
Lucifer shakes his head and childishly tosses a pea at Dean, who catches it in his mouth. The fallen angel laughs lightly as he decides to focus on his food, giving up the argument. It’s a perfect, golden moment. He’s sitting cross-legged on his bed across from the hunter, looking happy and at ease…
If only that happiness could last forever.
You can take away Crowley’s power over him, idjit. It’s just a few words.
Except it’s not.
Why does Dean’s inner voice sound like Bobby?
… He’ll figure out the best way to say it and do so after the hunt. No sense in distracting his hunting partner before they go face a Wendigo.
“At least this hunt will be an easy one,” He ends up commenting once they’re both nearly finished eating. “We just need to grab a few flare guns; they work like a charm on Wendigos.”
“We can’t use flare guns,” Lucifer informs him with a small frown. “They’re too loud and explosive… it wouldn’t be safe down in those caves. You don’t have a flamethrower, do you?”
And, well. Isn’t that a question.
“Not yet.”
“Well, let’s get a couple of those, and then hit the caves. There’s probably two of them down there, so we’ll need to stick together.”
The more seasoned hunter shrugs, starting on his kung pao chicken. “As long as I get to use a flamethrower, I’m in.”
[[ My awesome friend @lucifers-perfect-angel did this amazing art of our boys with a couple flamethrowers, about to fry some wendigos! link to the tumblr post in the end notes!! ]]
Ketch’s information was incredibly useful.
After doing a bit of her own research, Rowena decided that yes, she will need help. However, Ketch alone will not be enough. She’ll need more backup if she’s to take down the powerful coven nestled in the centre of a town the McLoughlin family has claimed for themselves.
As a token of her thanks, she promises the Man of Letters a spell of his choice. He, oddly enough, asks for a scrying spell. She decides not to ask, and simply prepares one for him, and leaves it in a drop off box.
A nice, clean transaction, if she does say so herself.
It is so nice to work with a straightforward man such as Arthur Ketch, from time to time.
That business done with; she prepares to make another call. There are only two boys she knows she can trust to get this job done right.
He answers the phone on the fourth ring.
“… Rowena, what do you want?”
“Sam, darling,” the witch greets him, all warmth and sweetness. “Whatever makes you think I want something?”