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Free Supernatural Fanfiction – Chapter Summary:

Dean wrestles with worry and wedding etiquette while Sam hunts cursed objects—love and duty collide in quiet tension

Rating: PG-13
Contains:  for mild language and emotional intensity

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN:  
Take One for the Team

DEAN, SAM, AND I RODE EAST IN THE IMPALA. We followed my parents—much to Dean’s resentment. Clearly, they didn’t drive as fast as he would’ve liked.

Once we reached our destination, Sam planned to rent (or possibly steal) a car to head north to New York. The ride was uneventful, and we said goodbye to Sam as we settled into the hotel.

The wedding wasn’t far, and most of the out-of-town guests stayed in nearby rooms.

Dean handled Sam’s departure better than I expected. I never said he handled it well — but he handled it.

It took a few shots for him to lose the permanent grimace on his face. This was the first time in a while they were doing something separately.

I could tell Dean wanted to be there for Sam while he processed the apocalypse. But Sam didn’t want him there—or rather, he felt Dean should be with me instead. Sam had never shown resentment toward me, so I knew it was out of concern. 

Sam risked his life for strangers without a second thought. How many did he save when he tried to stop Pestilence alone? Or when he sacrificed himself to stop the apocalypse?

I looked over at Dean. Considering this was a family occasion, I suggested — after the third shot — that he switch to water or beer for dinner. He got a beer.

The wedding was scheduled for the following afternoon. Thankfully, the area only received about two inches of snow—much less than predicted for an early November storm. Above-freezing temperatures the day before probably helped keep the ground warm.

I debated wearing boots instead of the small heels that matched my dress. As I struggled with footwear, I noticed Dean struggling with his tie.

He was trying to cover up a stain that he hadn’t noticed until he started putting it on. That sealed it for me. If Dean was wearing a suit—which he hated—then I could manage heels for a few hours. It wasn’t like the wedding was outside; everything was taking place in the same building. I slipped on the heels and went over to help Dean with his tie.

AS PER USUAL, the wedding party was running a little late—despite the mild weather. The sun melted the snow that had managed to stick to the ground. While waiting in the chapel area, Dean called Sam to check in. Sam was supposed to inspect the Telesca house that morning.

From Dean’s side of the conversation, it sounded like the house was clean.

The music started playing louder as families began walking down the aisle to their seats.

“All right, so if it’s not the people and it’s not the house, then maybe it’s the contents. Cursed objects or something,” Dean whispered hurriedly, noticing my dubious stare.

“Yeah, I know. You said that,” he continued. He paused. The bridal party was starting down.

“Dean,” I whispered and elbowed him.

“Where’s all their stuff?” He ignored me.

I saw the flower girl starting down the aisle, camera flashes following her.

Dean wasn’t going to hang up.

I reached over and grabbed the phone. Quickly and quietly, I told Sam that Dean would call him back. In one fluid movement, I placed the phone in my purse.

Dean made a grab for it.

“I’ll text,” he whispered.

“After the service,” I told him.

He glared at me for a moment, and I held that glare. Everyone started to stand for the bride.

He bristled, stood, and tried to look like he was paying attention. At least we were farthest from the center aisle. I didn’t think anyone noticed our little spat.

The wedding probably dragged on much longer for Dean, but it was a very nice ceremony. No mess-ups. No drama.

Longer than our wedding since they performed a whole mass, the ceremony lasted just under an hour.

The bride and groom were hardly back down the aisle when Dean reached around me and snatched my purse.

“Dean, you need to have a little trust,” I muttered to deaf ears.

I watched the rest of the bridal party pass by and waited for our row to start moving.

“I’m sure he’s doing fine. We’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Damn it,” he swore softly.

An older woman passing by glared at him momentarily. He didn’t even notice—he was too busy leaving a message for Sam to call him back.

“What happened?” I asked.

“The house and people were clean. There has to be something else involved. He was going to see where their belongings were taken. It’s probably a cursed object, but he’s not answering his phone.”

He glared at the phone like it was its fault Sam hadn’t answered, then pocketed it.

“That doesn’t sound too hard,” I commented.

He looked at me.

I lowered my voice. “Well, I guess after beating Satan, this doesn’t seem too complicated.”

I shrugged.

We were led into a room for cocktail hour. Dean made his way to the bar, grabbing a few items from the finger-food trays as he went.

I went over to the table where my parents and a few other relatives sat.

“Is Dean all right?” my mom asked. “He looks a little agitated.”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s just a little upset that Sam didn’t come.”

I glanced back at him.

Sam didn’t return his message until after dinner.

Dean walked out into the lobby, and I followed quickly behind him.

“Grant Wood? Grandma Moses?” He paused. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”

I assumed Sam was all right, judging by Dean’s less hostile reaction.

“What’s providence?” Dean remained silent for a while, nodding periodically.

I wondered if I ever did that on the phone—nodding even though the other person couldn’t see it.

“Huh. Well, we’re not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sera…”

He had a smirk on his face.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her.”

With that, he disconnected the phone and turned toward me.

“You seem better,” I noted.

“Looks like Sammy is going on a date.”

MINI CHAPTER BONUS: Baby

DEAN LOVED HIS IMPALA. In fact, when we first started working on our relationship, I wondered if I could ever compete with the love he had for his car—aka Baby.

Eventually, I gained status. I felt equal with the car. And then, slowly, I passed her up.

The love he shared with me and the car were on different levels. I understood that. It wasn’t the same—but the intensity was strong for both of us.

Dean and I talked about things. Being in an anam cara relationship — and now marriage — it stood to reason that talking through our problems should be the best way to solve most arguments. Dean was slowly learning this.

As with all couples, Dean and I sometimes argued. So far, they were never bad, and they never lasted long—like the one at the wedding. In this case, we just let it go.

It reminded me of an earlier conversation I’d had with Dean.

Jokingly, I told him that if he ever wondered whether I was really mad at him, I’d just paint his car a nice Barbie pink.

He quite possibly had a mini-stroke at that moment. His face turned a reddish-purple. Then it twisted into a sour expression as he sputtered through his displeasure.

I tried not to laugh at him. Like I would really do such a thing.

Image by Copilot

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