Castiel's Blog
001.
Dean was instantly suspicious the moment he noticed Sam loitering in his doorway with his laptop, a sheepish grin on his face. He lowered the knife he was sharpening and glared at his younger brother.
“What is it?”
Sam smiled his innocent smile; the smile that told Dean something was definitely up. “You remember when Cas first fell.”
Dean remembered it very well, it was like having a whole high school of depressed teenagers rolled into one trench-coat-wearing ex-angel. “Yeah.”
“And… we told him he’d feel better if he got his feelings out?”
“Yeah. I’m sure he told you to fuck off.”
Sam rolled his eyes, taking a few steps into Dean’s room. “Not in those words exactly, but yeah. Well anyway… I convinced him he could always write his feelings down or something. In a journal, or… on a blog.”
“…A blog?”
“Yeah. Well, he took to the blog idea. He made a blog, posted his feelings on it, it was all very touching at first, and now…”
“Now what?”
“Well…”
Sam dropped himself beside Dean on his bed, shoving the laptop over onto his knee. Up on the screen was a very nondescript blog. There was no title, no text to explain what the blog was or who was behind it, and no profile picture. Dean shrugged, balancing the computer on his lap.
“Yeah? It’s looking very ‘Cas’ so far.”
“Yeah, keep scrolling.”
The first entry was under a “read more” and titled “Dean needs to stop putting the empty milk cartons back into the fridge”. Chuckling, Dean clicked on the link and read the small rant Castiel had about Dean’s bad habits in regards to food.
The next post was titled “I wish I had my ability to see in the dark back”, and under the ‘read more’ was a rant about Sam’s tendency to leave stacks of books around the bunker and to not tuck chairs under tables, encouraging Castiel to trip over them in the dead of night when he ventured to the kitchen.
“What’s the problem, Sam? He’s got a point.”
Sam huffed out an offended sigh as he pulled the laptop back onto his knee. He scrolled a few times, clicking a link, before pushing the laptop back over to Dean.
“There. Enjoy.”
Dean narrowed his eyes at the screen, at the text at the top of the page: “showing results for posts tagged: Dean”. Sam snorted at Dean’s expression, leaning over to scroll for him.
“What’s this?”
“This… is Cas’ collection of the creepy.”
Sam scrolled slowly. There were a few posts about things Dean did that annoyed Castiel, things Dean had said; a few posts concerning the hunts they’d been on; and a lot of pictures. Some were blurry, obviously taken whilst in motion. But a lot were of Dean doing something normal, Castiel obviously creeping behind a pillar or door to snap a quick picture of the unsuspecting Winchester. There were even several of Dean asleep.
“Sam. You can stop now.”
Sam laughed, clicking onto the next page. “Oh no, Dean. This goes on for ages!”
“Please, don’t.”
“I hadn’t checked Cas’ blog in weeks, then I suddenly remembered and went to check and this. He uploads at least one picture of you a day!”
“Sam-”
“Sometimes there’s text underneath, explaining why he took it… or what you were doing at the time-”
“Sam-”
“But most of the time it’s just pictures of you, for no reason.”
Dean sighed loudly, pushing the laptop back over to his brother. “Stop, Sam.”
“Why?”
“This is like… this is his journal, Sam! He’s a teenage girl and this is his diary!”
Sam snorted, closing the lid of his laptop. “Yeah, and you’re his teenage crush. He’s pretty much writing Mrs Castiel Winchester everywhere.”
“Not funny, Sam.”
“Excuse you? This is hilarious.”
“Yeah, and you’ll be laughing when I find your diary? Full of touchy-feely chick-flick emotions?”
“Yeah, good luck,” Sam laughed, marching out of Dean’s room.
—
That evening, Sam settled down in an armchair, his laptop in hand and a glass of scotch on the table next to him. He checked his emails, and whilst waiting for his film to buffer he decided to have a quick look at Cas’ blog to see if he’d uploaded more pictures. There were no new pictures, but there was one new post.
“Sam Winchester needs to keep his bitch nose out of other people’s business.
“Apologies, Sam, Dean wrote the title and keeps changing it back when I go to change it.
“But to the point of this post, in future could you please not interfere with matters that do not concern you? I’m touched you worry and feel the only way to understand what’s going on with me is to read my blog, and I understand that it is in the public domain and open to anyone to read… but what I post here is personal. I thought you understood that. There was no need to show Dean the things I posted of him.
“However… your attempts to mock me encouraged Dean to confront me on the content of this blog. We had a long, personal discussion on the topic, a discussion which resulted in Dean throwing me onto the bed and divesting me of my clothes. In short, we had sex, and will continue to do so in the future.
“In conclusion, your meddling may have worked out for the best this time, but in the future, please mind your own business.
“Sincerely, Castiel.
“PS. Dean would like me to tell you we found your diary and are thoroughly enjoying your angsty teenage girl feelings.
“PPS. Dean would also like me to tell you that we had the discussion in your room, and you may wish to clean your sheets.”
“DEAN!”
“What is it?”
Sam smiled his innocent smile; the smile that told Dean something was definitely up. “You remember when Cas first fell.”
Dean remembered it very well, it was like having a whole high school of depressed teenagers rolled into one trench-coat-wearing ex-angel. “Yeah.”
“And… we told him he’d feel better if he got his feelings out?”
“Yeah. I’m sure he told you to fuck off.”
Sam rolled his eyes, taking a few steps into Dean’s room. “Not in those words exactly, but yeah. Well anyway… I convinced him he could always write his feelings down or something. In a journal, or… on a blog.”
“…A blog?”
“Yeah. Well, he took to the blog idea. He made a blog, posted his feelings on it, it was all very touching at first, and now…”
“Now what?”
“Well…”
Sam dropped himself beside Dean on his bed, shoving the laptop over onto his knee. Up on the screen was a very nondescript blog. There was no title, no text to explain what the blog was or who was behind it, and no profile picture. Dean shrugged, balancing the computer on his lap.
“Yeah? It’s looking very ‘Cas’ so far.”
“Yeah, keep scrolling.”
The first entry was under a “read more” and titled “Dean needs to stop putting the empty milk cartons back into the fridge”. Chuckling, Dean clicked on the link and read the small rant Castiel had about Dean’s bad habits in regards to food.
The next post was titled “I wish I had my ability to see in the dark back”, and under the ‘read more’ was a rant about Sam’s tendency to leave stacks of books around the bunker and to not tuck chairs under tables, encouraging Castiel to trip over them in the dead of night when he ventured to the kitchen.
“What’s the problem, Sam? He’s got a point.”
Sam huffed out an offended sigh as he pulled the laptop back onto his knee. He scrolled a few times, clicking a link, before pushing the laptop back over to Dean.
“There. Enjoy.”
Dean narrowed his eyes at the screen, at the text at the top of the page: “showing results for posts tagged: Dean”. Sam snorted at Dean’s expression, leaning over to scroll for him.
“What’s this?”
“This… is Cas’ collection of the creepy.”
Sam scrolled slowly. There were a few posts about things Dean did that annoyed Castiel, things Dean had said; a few posts concerning the hunts they’d been on; and a lot of pictures. Some were blurry, obviously taken whilst in motion. But a lot were of Dean doing something normal, Castiel obviously creeping behind a pillar or door to snap a quick picture of the unsuspecting Winchester. There were even several of Dean asleep.
“Sam. You can stop now.”
Sam laughed, clicking onto the next page. “Oh no, Dean. This goes on for ages!”
“Please, don’t.”
“I hadn’t checked Cas’ blog in weeks, then I suddenly remembered and went to check and this. He uploads at least one picture of you a day!”
“Sam-”
“Sometimes there’s text underneath, explaining why he took it… or what you were doing at the time-”
“Sam-”
“But most of the time it’s just pictures of you, for no reason.”
Dean sighed loudly, pushing the laptop back over to his brother. “Stop, Sam.”
“Why?”
“This is like… this is his journal, Sam! He’s a teenage girl and this is his diary!”
Sam snorted, closing the lid of his laptop. “Yeah, and you’re his teenage crush. He’s pretty much writing Mrs Castiel Winchester everywhere.”
“Not funny, Sam.”
“Excuse you? This is hilarious.”
“Yeah, and you’ll be laughing when I find your diary? Full of touchy-feely chick-flick emotions?”
“Yeah, good luck,” Sam laughed, marching out of Dean’s room.
—
That evening, Sam settled down in an armchair, his laptop in hand and a glass of scotch on the table next to him. He checked his emails, and whilst waiting for his film to buffer he decided to have a quick look at Cas’ blog to see if he’d uploaded more pictures. There were no new pictures, but there was one new post.
“Sam Winchester needs to keep his bitch nose out of other people’s business.
“Apologies, Sam, Dean wrote the title and keeps changing it back when I go to change it.
“But to the point of this post, in future could you please not interfere with matters that do not concern you? I’m touched you worry and feel the only way to understand what’s going on with me is to read my blog, and I understand that it is in the public domain and open to anyone to read… but what I post here is personal. I thought you understood that. There was no need to show Dean the things I posted of him.
“However… your attempts to mock me encouraged Dean to confront me on the content of this blog. We had a long, personal discussion on the topic, a discussion which resulted in Dean throwing me onto the bed and divesting me of my clothes. In short, we had sex, and will continue to do so in the future.
“In conclusion, your meddling may have worked out for the best this time, but in the future, please mind your own business.
“Sincerely, Castiel.
“PS. Dean would like me to tell you we found your diary and are thoroughly enjoying your angsty teenage girl feelings.
“PPS. Dean would also like me to tell you that we had the discussion in your room, and you may wish to clean your sheets.”
“DEAN!”