Chapter Text
The damage to the Moose was fairly extensive, but not to the point where nothing could be done. Cas and Dean both willingly offered up a large portion of the money they had saved from their royalties to help Gabriel cover what the insurance did not. Gabriel hired out all the structural work, but once that was finally completed, he told Cas and Dean that they were both expected to help in the repainting process. Given that they really had nowhere else to go, both Dean and Cas agreed on the condition that they could keep their notebooks nearby in case of sudden inspiration. Sam was dragged into Gabriel’s plans as often as he could be spared, usually after he got off work, as were Lucifer, Becky, Charlie and Kevin, much to the displeasure of the poor college student. Gabriel promised that Kevin would still be paid for his time, despite the sudden change in daily duties, and it was enough to keep the struggling student on board.
A big macaroni art sign hung on the door that read, “Renovations In Progress,” whenever they were all inside working. The painting took several days, mostly because nobody could remain serious long enough to get a large portion of a wall actually painted in a timely manner. There were many times when someone--usually Gabriel--would fling a little paint around until a full out war was started. Clothes were re-coloured and quite often walls had to be painted over again to get rid of the speckles of mismatched paint, but fun was certainly had by all. Even Kevin found it in himself to crack a smile and flick his brush at anyone who passed during such a time.
Days when Charlie and Becky came to ‘help’ always proved to be a bit more eventful. The two women seemed to be riding a constant wave of excitement over their ship going canon. Their brush strokes became less precise the more they squealed over the new couple’s every touch of hands, every chaste kiss, colours mixing hazardously, flecks of paint flying randomly. No one had the heart to point the shoddy craftsmanship out to them, instead working the erratic strokes into the Cafe. Becky and Charlie would stay near each other, whispering to one another about the couple that they felt they deserved credit for bringing together. Neither seemed to realize that they, in reality, had very little to do with the two coming together, but no one told them that. The excitement that came with Becky and Charlie’s presence was infectious, adding even more energy to the already joyous atmosphere, and so their antics were tolerated and sometimes encouraged if Gabriel was feeling particularly evil.
During one of the many days of renovation and painting, Dean stopped and looked around, a realization trickling in. He watched his little brother work, the sleeves of his long sleeve shirt rolled up to the elbows, hair pushed back behind his ears, stretching to reach higher places. Cas was crouched over a bucket of paint, adjusting his glasses and catching his breath. Gabriel dove into the back hallway for a moment, a flash of light brown hair and golden whiskey eyes full of mischief.
“This is what family is,” Dean said suddenly. Both Sam and Cas turned to look at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. Dean gestured around him vaguely, hand sweeping towards both men before him.
“Not an old drunk who can’t let go of the past, not people so blind that they can’t see past their bible, but this. All of us working together, all of us just enjoying being with one another,” Dean said, a smile starting. Cas rose from his crouched position, smiling across the coffee shop at Dean, noticing a small spot of paint on his cheek.
“Family doesn’t end in blood,” Cas said. Sam nodded in agreement with the sentiment.
“You have to admit that our family is a little odd though,” Sam commented with a smirk.
“One lawyered up caffeine junkie, one not-so-innocent angel, and a man with a chewed up pen and a give ‘em hell attitude. I’d say that’s a pretty damn good family,” Dean said, a grin stretching across his face.
“Don’t forget their beloved trickster archangel!” Gabriel piped in as he popped back into the room with a little bounce. Cas glanced over at him one with eyebrow perked up dramatically.
“Shut it, Cassie. I ain’t no puny harp plucker, I’m the big guns,” Gabriel said, standing with his hands on his hips, chin tilted up in what everyone supposed was meant to be a heroic pose. It only served to draw a chuckle or three out of all of them.
“I think that if Sam and Dean teamed up, they could take you, Gabriel. Angel hunters. Or perhaps hunters that go after anything that goes bump in the night,” Cas’ speech was slowly considerably as the gears in his head began to turn. Dean looked over to him, latching onto the tail end of his thought and joining him in on the contemplation.
“Hey, I wouldn’t be something that goes bump in the night!” Gabriel whined and was promptly ignored by both Cas and Dean, who were looking at each other, eyes bright.
“Two brothers, travelling the open roads, hunting the things you find in the closet at night with their trusty angel by their side,” Dean said, his voice growing a bit louder in his excitement. Cas moved towards him excitedly, words jumping to his lips.
“Saving people--”
“Hunting things--”
“The family business!” They both freeze momentarily before dropping their painting supplies and rushing for their notebooks on a nearby table. Gabriel and Sam exchange looks before shrugging their shoulders. Dean and Cas seat themselves side by side, jotting down their ideas as quickly as their pens would allow them to, occasionally murmuring to each other about something. Their eyes were bright with excitement, sparks of inspiration flying between them beautifully, lighting both men up from the inside out. While Sam and Gabriel couldn’t fully understand the writing process and the wonder that came with it, they could appreciate the way that their brothers were glowing. They seemed to fit together, side by side, pens working in equal fervour, eyes trained on the lined pages of their notebooks.
Written in a slapdash manner across the top of both of their pages, in big bold letters was the word, “Supernatural.”