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Sam looks up from his phone, clears his throat and says “Willow.”
Charlie leans back on her chair and nods, nervousness plain to Dean in the edge of her smile. “Yes, mon capitaine?”
“I told you to never come back.”
“You did.”
“You disobeyed.”
“I do that.” She crosses her arms and shrugs, her recently cut hair curling just under her jaw. Dean imagines Willow standing there, head held high, and wonders if he'll have to course correct to add a new scar on their neck, where the knife is pressing. “You taught me to do that.”
Sam slams one of his hands on the table, making it shake. They all flinch back, Sam’s expression turning so carefully blank that Dean recalls John standing, John looming, John waiting. He blinks away the ghost and stares at Sam’s stupid purple dog shirt instead.
“Rules keep, little sparrow.” Sam laughs, low. “They keep and they hold and they bind if they come from my mouth. That, I taught. That, you don’t forget.”
Charlie breathes in.
“Ah,” Sam interrupts, holding his finger up and making Charlie sputter. Nervous laughter rolls off Ash and Dean. “I warned you. I gave you a chance-”
“You threatened me,” Charlie corrects, standing up and moving towards Sam. “You didn’t give me a chance, I escaped. I listened, like an idiot, when your voice started haunting me, taunting me, telling me that you let me go.” She stops, not entering the space behind the DM screen. “But I know better now, captain. I know who you are and I know which ghosts whisper in your ear. I know why you kept me away from land.”
Dean startles at the touch on his wrist, barely avoiding hitting the table with his knees and disrupting the scene. Castiel looks apologetic when Dean turns towards him, keeping his attention on Charlie in the corner of his eye.
“What?” Dean mouths, because Charlie would kill him if he interrupted her right now.
Castiel glances at Charlie, who is now listening as Sam responds tauntingly, and moves closer to Dean’s ear. He whispers, “Can you cast invisibility on more than one person?”
Dean does his best to remember how the spell works, but nothing comes to mind. Why did he multiclass? This is hell. He reaches for his notebook, and passes the pages as quietly as he can, searching for the abbreviated version of the spells he can cast now. It takes him a second, and he has to double check he has the spell slots for it, but he nods. Castiel moves away and gives him a thumbs up. Dean fails to not find it charming, but he brings his attention back to Charlie as she gesticulates.
“-alone. This might be your ship, Rhya, but it’s my sea now.” Charlie flashes a smile. “And you shouldn’t have come back.”
Dean seizes the dramatic pause. “Is everyone paying attention to Willow right now?”
“They better.” Charlie says, retreating to her chair.
“Perception.” Sam responds absentmindedly, to then snap back at attention. “No, wait, not even needed. Yes, the crew is certainly looking, the tension rising.”
“Anyone looking in my direction?” Dean clarifies.
“Oh well, yeah, give me the perception for that, then.”
Dean rolls. “15.”
“Good enough. No one seems to have picked up on you guys or singled you out. Maybe it's the costumes, maybe the crew has grown used to you or maybe no one wants to miss the show up front.”
“Awesome,” Dean grabs at Castiel's hand, because he’s not above this at this point. Castiel turns his hand on his grip, interlocking their fingers. Dean wants to die. “I grab Kora’s hand and whisper, Up for a ride, angel?”
“Not an angel.”
Dean rolls his eyes and squeezes Cas’ hand.
“My angel, then.” Dean cringes the second after the words leave his mouth. He didn’t even do it over the top, so he bravely ignores Sam’s soft awed “dude” and the laughter that follows. Castiel looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Yours.” Castiel repeats, earnestly and so close and- “Yes.”
Dean looks at his brother. He ignores the shit eating grin and the instinct to hit Sam with something to get him to stop. “I cast invisibility on the two of us and move us towards the front, close to Willow.”
“Uh-huh,” Sam’s smile is mocking. “Roll stealth with advantage.”
Dean does. Resentfully. “Twenty and something million.”
“That’s only 28, Dean.”
“I know, Cas.”
Sam nods, “That gets you to the front no problem. First row to see how Rhya, the knife still at Willow’s throat, does her move, slashing.”
Under the mayhem that ensues, Sam tells them to roll initiative and Dean is forced to let go of Castiel’s hand.
“Stay close.” He whispers to Cas, anyway.
Castiel nods. “No more than 60 feet for me if you can help it.”
“Remember, invisibility drops if you cast anything or attack,” Dean reminds him, uncapping his pen to write the word “concentration” in all caps at the top of the page. He keeps the cap on his mouth, chewing on it. “Who has the healing potion we bought?” He asks at the table at large.
“15.” Ash says to Sam, before turning to Dean. “Willow has it.”
“3.” Charlie groans. “And I’m not wasting my turn to heal, it barely nicked me.”
“20,” Dean says offhandedly. “Then stop hoarding the potions whenever we pass them around!”
“Cas?” Sam asks, when Castiel doesn’t offer his own initiative in the crosstalk. “Where you at?”
Castiel raises one finger up, his other hand passing pages in the manual.
“Are you telling him to wait or did you get a one and the shame is too much to bear, buddy?” Dean jokes, laughing at the glare Cas sends him as a reply. “So that’s a one for choir boy, which means,” Dean leans in to look at Cas’ character sheet. “He got a 2.”
“Thank you, Castiel’s secretary.”
Dean throws a chip at his brother. “At least no one can aim at you.” He says to Cas. “You’re welcome.”
“It was my idea.” Cas reminds him.
“And my spell, so A+ for team work.”
Castiel smiles and looks back at Dean, reaching for his beer bottle and raising it. Dean clink it with his own.
“Dean,” Sam calls. “You go first, what are you doing?”