It is possible I need some Hottie McWingfic icons.
So, I just went off on a little rant about how, let's say, disenchanted with SPN fandom I am, which reminded me: I have fic to post!

This was meant to be part of an epic exploration of what happens when Ruby and Castiel push Dean and Sam to their respective breaking points, and Dean is trying to avert the Apocalypse by fighting demons and doing what Castiel tells him to while Sam is... trying to avert the Apocalypse by fighting demons and doing what Ruby tells him to (and being Antichristical).

Instead, you get a tiny snippet of SPN gen-fic.

Oh yeah--I wrote this six months ago, and it's even more canonical now than it was then. I can't decide if Kripke's predictable, or Monkeypuzzle is a mole.



Dean walks into the motel room tired, sore, and pissed off--some days it feels like each demon goes down harder than the one before--and finding Castiel sitting on what should really be Sam's bed--god, Sammy--just doesn't do anything to improve his mood.

"What're you staring at, Fluffy?" he snarls, and winces at the twinge of his split lip.

Castiel reaches out to touch the wound and Dean jerks his head away; he's not in the mood to be healed.

"I can help, Dean." It's been months, but Dean still can't get used to that weird inflection, blank voice mirroring blank stare, the jerky, robotic movements. The cosmic pissing match over who's more powerful will go on for some time longer, he thinks, but acting human is one area where the demons are definitely coming out ahead. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"It's supposed to," Dean says, shutting the bathroom door behind him, shutting out the angel's blank stare. He looks in the mirror, fingers the puffy bruise, and carefully avoids his own gaze.