[ not all of jack's days are positivity and heartfelt pep talks from one or all of his dads. some days they're busy, some days they don't notice he's a little less bright than he usually is, some days he learns subtly and hiding your feelings like the best of them because he doesn't want them to notice. they have enough to worry about without having to look after some kid. it leaves jack sitting quietly in his room, legs crossed under him and back slouched against the headboard, eyes half lidded and sad as his fingers pick at the loose strands of thread on his comforter.
ample time to mull over disastrous mistakes and regrets, as teenagers and winchesters both are wont to do, though the disastrous part is a little more on the nose than most teens in jack's case. this isn't a new pastime, and it's hardly the first time jack's closed his eyes tight and wished he could just go back, like restarting from an earlier save point in any of the games he's played with sam on boring nights. this is, however, the first time it actually worked.
that's how castiel ends up with a skinny teenaged boy with an angelic aura bright enough to power new york city squished up against his shoulder on whatever bed or couch or mat on the floor he happens to be hanging out on while winchester brothers are out doing things they don't want to take the half crazed baby in a trench coat to. when jack opens his eyes again, having felt the new pressure and warmth at his shoulder, he's glancing around with wide, owlish eyes, before finding castiel's face. ]
Cas? [ since when does cas teleport again? how quietly did he enter the room to get right up next to jack without him noticing? also, this is no longer the right room. what. ]
Why do you look like a nurse? [ you know, the scrubs. with the trench coat still. okay. ] ...That wants to be a detective.
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for ~freetobe
ample time to mull over disastrous mistakes and regrets, as teenagers and winchesters both are wont to do, though the disastrous part is a little more on the nose than most teens in jack's case. this isn't a new pastime, and it's hardly the first time jack's closed his eyes tight and wished he could just go back, like restarting from an earlier save point in any of the games he's played with sam on boring nights. this is, however, the first time it actually worked.
that's how castiel ends up with a skinny teenaged boy with an angelic aura bright enough to power new york city squished up against his shoulder on whatever bed or couch or mat on the floor he happens to be hanging out on while winchester brothers are out doing things they don't want to take the half crazed baby in a trench coat to. when jack opens his eyes again, having felt the new pressure and warmth at his shoulder, he's glancing around with wide, owlish eyes, before finding castiel's face. ]
Cas? [ since when does cas teleport again? how quietly did he enter the room to get right up next to jack without him noticing? also, this is no longer the right room. what. ]
Why do you look like a nurse? [ you know, the scrubs. with the trench coat still. okay. ] ...That wants to be a detective.