whynot: SPN: all hail (the queen save god)
Lassiter ([personal profile] whynot) wrote2010-11-21 03:46 pm

'Sarabande' - SPN - Castiel, Lisa

I wrote this sometime ago in [livejournal.com profile] nyoka's LJ after talking about how even though Cas never talked to Sam during the missing year, there's nothing to say he never talked to Dean. Hell, he totally went to a few backyard BBQs, okay, shut up. When Dean introduced him to Lisa, she was like, "Nice to finally meet you."

In conclusion: threesome.

Well, there would've been threesomes, but all they ended up doing was eating crackers. Dean wasn't even there. Anyway, I'm counting this for my [community profile] mundane_bingo square, 'discovering there is not enough x in the pantry to make y'.

Tonight I watch HP7, and tomorrow I post my [livejournal.com profile] sassy_otp exchange fic, rec [livejournal.com profile] sharp_teeth at [livejournal.com profile] sawedoff_recs, and leave for Thanksgiving break. And somehow, sometime, some way, I will whoop my Novakfest fic before it whoops me.

Supernatural. Castiel, Lisa, Dean. G.
Takes place between S5 and S6. Sometimes Castiel drops by. ~800 words

Castiel only knew of Lisa peripherally, through stories and the dreams that leaked out of Dean's head. After Blue Earth, Sam told him a little more.

"She's an old girlfriend," Sam had explained. "Um. He likes her kid."

Dean had a lot of girlfriends, and Castiel didn't immediately understand why Dean would go after this one specifically. It just reminded him that for all that he raised Dean from Hell, and for all that they had been rebels together, perhaps Dean was not full of surprises after all. Perhaps Castiel just didn't know him very well.

The thought felt incongruous and intrusive. In a very technical way, he has held Dean's soul in his hands. He knew every thread and facet of it, having had to weave it back into his body. When Dean was an open book to him, Castiel didn't know how to read him. Dean's quiet ache for his mother, his consuming dedication to his brother, and quiet moments in the Impala when he lets himself ponder the impossible promises he's made in his life. Castiel didn't know the weight of them, the way someone reads the weather report instead of feeling the rain.

The legends told of Galatea coming to life for Pygmalion, but no one ever asked Galatea her thoughts on the matter.

Dean is a mystery to him now and at times, he suspects, to Lisa. The man is closed off in his grief, guarded in his joy, and Castiel is too busy these days to figure him out. The angel has his own vigils to keep. He returns to their house when time permits, but sometimes they are busy, sometimes they are sleeping. But sometimes Lisa will smile and invite him to sit down.

"I was just about to make myself a snack," she says.

Lisa knows how to make Dean laugh, and knows the intimacy of that knowledge. When he sat at the table telling Castiel about his new job, she felt perfectly comfortable coming up behind Dean and propping her elbows on his shoulders, resting her chin on his head. Dinner was ready, she told them, and then she tousled his hair.

Dean is at work and Ben is at soccer practice, and Lisa shuffles around the kitchen collecting things as she talks. A cutting board from a drawer, a knife. She places them in front of Castiel, then opens the refrigerator and rifles through its contents as she tells him about Dean's habit of flinching at flickering lightbulbs and sudden shadows.

"Hmm, damn," Lisa murmurs. "I guess we're out of... Okay." She turns around with half a salami in hand, and closes the fridge with her hip. "My cousin was in the war," she continues. "Iraq, I mean. He got discharged because, well, I mean with the PTSD... It was kinda like Dean, but worse. He couldn't really handle it. Well, not that Dean..."

She puts the salami down, then places her palms flat on the table and appears to study her fingers.

"War makes strangers of us all," Castiel says, and thinks of Johael, dead by his hand. Hamaliel, once in the same garrison, now fighting at Raphael's side. Zadkiel. Remiel.

"Dean and I--" Then Lisa hesitates, then sighs, and turns her back to him to get a box of crackers from the cupboard. Only then does she sit down. "God knows I love the guy to death, but I don't know what to do sometimes, if I'm doing enough if--"

She starts slicing the salami.

There are no answers. There are no answers to her questions, or to his, or to any of the questions Dean is afraid to ask. Lisa slices the salami and clenches her jaw, and Castiel is at a loss. He finds himself repeating what Sam told him long ago, shortly after Carthage and right after Dean disappeared to the bottom of the bottle: "Just be there for him."

Lisa just sighs again, and nods.

Castiel isn't even sure what being there for him means. It was easy during the Apocalypse: they had a common goal and no time to waste, no time for distraction. Castiel still doesn't have time for distraction, but certain situations necessitate respite. For their own sake, he doesn't tell Dean and Lisa much about the war, and eventually they stopped asking. All Dean had said when Castiel showed up the last time was, "You're late." There was already a beer out for him out on the counter.

"Here," Lisa says, and holds something out in her hand.

"What is it?" he asks.

"It's supposed to be cheese and crackers, but we ran out of cheese. So. Salami and crackers."

Castiel tries it. Lisa has one too.

"You like it?" she asks with her mouth full.

"It's good."

Lisa pushes the box of crackers at him. "Help yourself."

So Castiel does.

animus_wyrmis: (Default)

[personal profile] animus_wyrmis 2010-11-22 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Liiiiiisa. I loooove her. I want so much more of her. AND I LOVE THAT SHE HAS A COUSIN IN IRAQ WITH PTSD YES.

::useless flailing::

(also Cas! omfg, Cas, come hang out with me.)
animus_wyrmis: (Default)

[personal profile] animus_wyrmis 2010-11-22 08:21 am (UTC)(link)
animus_wyrmis: (Default)

[personal profile] animus_wyrmis 2010-11-22 08:32 am (UTC)(link)
DDDD: Poor Cas! All he wants is peace in Heaven and some salami on crackers, WHY IS IT SO HARD.