Archive of Our Own

“We should—” Cas starts, but Dean waves him off.

“This is where it gets good.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “We’ve watched this movie seven times, Dean. And you say that any time I want to turn off any movie. At some point that excuse is not going to work anymore.”

Dean smirks at him. “Doesn’t seem like that point is right now, since I don’t see you going anywhere.

Cas sighs but doesn’t answer. Of course he’s not leaving. For one thing, he doesn’t actually need to sleep. He does on occasion, now that his grace has been somewhat depleted, but it’s actually Dean he’s worried about. But that’s not why he’s not insisting they turn off the movie and go to bed. He looks at Dean from the corner of his eye, sees the way Dean’s face lights up when he laughs, the hum of excitement that radiates from his body when he anticipates a “good part” coming up in the film. He feels warmth rise in his own cheeks.

He’s not sure why he hasn’t told Dean how he feels. He’s been able to feel Dean’s longing since that day in the barn. Maybe because it’s been years and Dean hasn’t said anything out loud, so Cas doesn’t want to break whatever they have going on by speaking the words either. Whatever it is, he keeps his own longing to himself.

Twenty minutes later Dean is asleep, head lolling on Cas’s shoulder. Cas thinks fleetingly about slipping away, but it’s not a serious thought. This, having Dean so close, is heaven.

Cas is jolted awake by something sharp under his hands. He opens his eyes, disoriented. Gravel? How is there gravel beneath him?

And then he remembers that Dean should be with him, and he looks around, frantic.

“Dean,” he says, relief flooding his voice.

“Cas,” Dean says. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says. “Nor how we got here.”

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” Dean jokes, rising to his feet. He helps Cas up, and suddenly his eyes go wide. “Or maybe we are.” He nods over Cas’s shoulder. “Cas, look.”

Not much startles Cas anymore. He’s faced demons and monsters and Lucifer himself. But turning around to find a tornado bearing down on them was not something he ever expected to do.

“So is this your dream or mine,” Dean jokes.

“Not funny, Dean,” Cas says. “Or helpful. We have to get out of here, that’s coming right this way and it’s coming fast.”

Before he can think of something, a dusty pick up truck skids to a stop next to them. The door opens and a blonde woman yells “Get in!”

For a full five seconds they both stand there, staring. Dean’s mouth is actually hanging open.

“Don’t just stand there,” the woman says, exasperation all over her face. “That tornado isn’t going to wait for you to make up your minds.”

As one Dean and Cas scramble into the backseat. “That’s—” Dean whispers.

“I know,” Cas interrupts, keeping his voice low.

“I’m Jo,” the blonde woman says.

“I know,” Dean blurts out, unable to keep the grin from his face. “And he’s Bill.”

The driver—Bill, though he hasn’t been introduced yet—jerks the wheel and they nearly drive off the road. “How the hell do you know that?”

“We’re storm chasers too,” Cas says before Dean can make up some other lie. Dean looks surprised and maybe even a little impressed.

“We’re just amateurs,” Dean says, falling into the lie. “But when we saw this storm system we had to come out here.”

“Without a vehicle?” Jo gives them a skeptical look.

“We had some car trouble,” Cas says.

“I’m Melissa,” says Bill’s soon-to-be-ex fiancée into the awkward silence.

It’s easy for Dean to chat with Jo and Bill about the storms and what they’re trying to learn, since he’s seen Twister so many times. Cas tries to reassure Melissa that they’re going to be safe, but she’s clearly unnerved by tornado looming in front of them. It’s now so close they’re almost inside it.

“Cow,” Jo says, and they all watch a cow fly through the air in front of the truck.

“Another cow,” she says, as if they don’t see the animal.

“Actually I think that’s the same one,” Bill says.

Melissa grabs Cas’s hand, squeezing tight. “We’ve got cows!” Her eyes are frantic.

Just then Bill slams on the brakes and he and Jo jump out of the truck to set up DOROTHY, working together like—well, a lot like Dean and Cas. Dean gets out too, and Cas follows, though reluctantly.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Dean’s laughing and bouncing on his toes, and Cas has to fight to keep from smiling back.

“This is insane, Dean. That is a tornado. Neither of us can fight a tornado.”

“Come on, Cas, this is Twister! As long as we stay near Bill and Jo we’ll be fine, because they’ll be fine.”

Cas wants to argue, but Dean has a point. They’ve both seen the movie, and no one near the protagonists is badly hurt. Still… “But we don’t know how we got here, or why we’re here. Just be careful, okay?”

Dean nods but can’t stop grinning. “We’re in a movie, Cas!”

“I wish it was a romantic comedy,” Cas mutters.

“What?”

“Noth—” Cas starts to reply, but before he can get the word out he’s knocked off his feet and right into Dean and they’re both falling—

—but they don’t land. They’re just suddenly sitting in a vast theatre, surrounded by people—some of which don’t look human—in fancy clothes. The air feels different somehow, almost artificial.

“What the fuck are you wearing, Cas?” Dean asks.

“Is that really the most important thing you could think to ask? Nothing about the change of scenery, or the possible aliens? It’s my clothes you’re interested in?” Cas tugs on the sleeve of Dean’s jacket. “Besides, looks like you’ve got a new wardrobe yourself.”

Dean looks down and swears. Then his eyes narrow and he swears again. “Cas, is this Gabriel?”

Cas considers, then asks, “Does it feel like Gabriel?”

Dean sighs and shakes his head. “When Sam and I were stuck in his little tv land it felt like we had parts to play. But this is just us being us in different places. And besides,” he holds up his hand, showing Cas his palm, “my palm is still scraped from the gravel. This feels too real. I have no clue what’s going on.”

“Do you know where we are?” Cas asks.

Dean looks around, sees the man sitting on the other side of Cas, and does a double take. “Holy shit, you’re Bruce Willis!”

The man gives him a blank look. “Excuse me?”

Realization falls over Dean’s features, and he grins. “Korben Dallas, right? Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. You’re the one who won the trip here, aren’t you? I’m Dean, this is Cas. Are you excited to hear the Diva sing? I’ve heard she’s amazing.”

“Swell.”

Dean and Cas exchange a look. It’s classic Korben Dallas; both of them are grinning.

Then Dean’s eyes go wide. “We’re not on Earth,” he mouths.

Before Cas can answer the Diva starts singing, and all thoughts fall out of his head.

Cas has witnessed creation. He’s fought with heaven’s armies. He’s flown amongst the stars.

He’s never heard anyone like the Diva.

The entire audience is captivated. For a moment Cas wonders if anyone is even breathing, but then he forgets to care. The song wraps around him, fills all his empty places, first brings him sorrow then fills him with joy.

He’s not sure how long she sings; it could be a minute, it could be a year. When she’s done the crowd stands as one, applauding and cheering, and Cas is there with them, giving her his adoration and praise. Beside him Dean yells in his ear, “I’ve even heard that in surround sound, but nothing ever compared to this!”

They’re both so caught up in the moment that they both jump when the gunfire starts. They throw themselves to the ground—

—and land in the snow. They’re both coughing and spitting and wiping the snow from their faces with heavily mittened hands when a voice says, “Oh, I don’t know why but I’ve always loved the idea of summer, and sun, and all things hot.”

“Really. I’m guessing you don’t have much experience with heat,” says another voice.

“Nope,” says the first voice. And then, inexplicably, the first voice starts singing. All about summer.

“Cas.”

“Yes, Dean?”

“We’re in Frozen. We’re listening to a snowman sing about summer.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Because this day couldn’t get any more surreal.

Dean actually dances with Olaf, and after the song Cas has to drag him away from Kristoff. “We have to figure out what’s going on,” he says when Dean’s done complaining at him.

“But Kristoff is going to let me drive the sled. When will I ever have a chance like that again?”

Cas doesn’t have an answer for that. He just climbs into the sled and sits down next to Olaf. The talking snowman.

“You don’t actually have to do much,” Kristoff tells Dean. “Sven is really the one in charge.”

Dean shouts with glee. “Yippee-ki-yay, mother—”

“Dean!” Cas admonishes. “This is a children’s movie!”

Anna gives Cas a curious look. “What’s a movie?”

Cas sighs. “It’s a long story. And you probably won’t remember anyway.”

The girl shrugs.

And then the sled tips over.

“This is getting old,” Dean says, helping Cas to his feet. “But hey, at least there’s no more snow.”

It’s a warm summer night, and they’re in a group of men who look like they’re going to some kind of costume party. Dean starts talking excitedly, probably pointing out someone around them, when Cas realizes where they are and shushes him.

“I don’t think we should talk,” Cas murmurs, keeping his voice as low as possible. “They’ll know us for outsiders right away.” At Dean’s questioning glance he mouths, “Listen.”

Two voices, going back and forth:

“I dreamt a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

“And what was yours?”

“That dreamers often lie.”

Dean mouths back, “Romeo and Juliet!” Cas nods.

Mercutio spoke on, his overly dramatic monologue about Queen Mab. “He’s good,” Dean whispers. “I’d forgotten.”

When the others go on to crash the Capulets’ party, Cas holds Dean back. “As much as I’d like to witness the holy palmer’s kiss, we’d better hold back. Unless you can suddenly speak in iambic pentameter.”

“Nah, I’m more of a limerick kind of guy,” Dean says.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Cas thinks.

They find an out of the way place to sit and try to figure out what’s going on. “It doesn’t make any sense,” Dean says. “Not that much of our lives make sense, but this is a whole new kind of nonsense.”

“Are you sure it’s not Gabriel?” Cas asks.

Dean shrugs. “It’s not at all like last time. But he’s a special kind of pain in my ass, so who knows.”

They talk for awhile, but come to no conclusions, and fall asleep there, under the moon.

Cas can’t feel his hands. Or his feet. Or his anything, really. He can blink his eyes, and he can turn his tires, but that’s—

Wait.

Tires?

“Dean!” There’s actual terror in his voice.

“I’m here, Cas. But I can’t move. What the hell is going on? Where are you?”

“Welcome to Radiator Springs! I’m Sally, are you looking for a place to stay? Can I get you some gas? Perhaps an oil change?”

Cas relaxes. He’s seen this movie. Dean loves it.

Dean, however, is not relaxed. He comes roaring into view, tires squealing. “Cas, I’m a car? Am I an Impala? I am, right? I have to be, there’s no way I’m anything else. I’ve got to find a mirror, this is amazing.”

Sally makes an odd throat-clearing sound. “Are you okay sir? Maybe you should shut down your engine and park for a bit, you’ve obviously overheated. We’ve got a drinking fountain over here, if you’ll just follow me…”

Dean looks at Cas, a pleading look in his bright green eyes. “What’s she going on about, Cas?”

Cas has to bite back a laugh. It almost hurts. “I’m almost positive this is Gabriel, Dean. Because this is exactly the kind of joke he would play.”

“Cas?”

Dean isn’t an Impala. He’s a minivan.

They don’t stay in Radiator Springs long. Dean runs into a mailbox. On purpose.

“Aaaaaassss yooooouuuuuuu wiiiiiiiisssssshhhhh.”

“Oh, Westley!”

Dean and Cas stand on a nearby hilltop and watch Westley and Buttercup first roll their way down the hill and then rediscover their love for one another. They don’t need to be close enough to hear Westley’s explanation of where he’s been; even Cas has seen this movie enough times to know the story.

That’s what I wish for, Cas thinks to himself.

The world screeches to a halt around him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, little brother,” Gabriel says.

Cas sighs. “Of course it’s you,” he says. “Will you take us home now?”

“You’re still snug as bugs in that bunker of yours, all snuggled up on the sofa. This is all a very fanciful dream.” He laughs, waving his hands around.

“Can we wake up, then?” Cas asks, crossing his arms.

“You gonna tell him how you feel?” Gabriel raises an eyebrow.

Cas considers. “Will you let him keep the dream?”

Dean stretches out, sliding down off of Cas’s shoulder and ending up with his head in Cas’s lap. When he opens his eyes he’s looking up at Cas. “Oh,” he says, a little sheepish. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep. Sure had a crazy dream though.” He smiles a sleepy smile.

“You can sleep on me any time you want to, Dean,” Cas says softly.

“Really?”

Cas’s heart beats a little faster. “As you wish,” he says. His voice catches in his throat.

Dean’s eyes widen.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Is this a kissing book?”

Cas’s laugh rumbles in his chest. By way of an answer, he presses his lips to Dean’s.