Who: Castiel + Dean Winchester, Penelope Garcia, John Constantine What: Gone to the chapel. Gone to get married. When: Friday July 26 Where: Orange County Clerk’s Office Rating: Low Status: Complete
Castiel had always heard stories about people being very nervous on their wedding day. He wasn't, not at all really. He carried himself with the same solemn air that he always did throughout the beginning of the day. He'd eaten breakfast with Dean, drank two cups of coffee and read the newspaper. Basically what he was starting to consider a normal day when Dean was included.
Refusing to be late for anything, he'd demanded with no room for argument that they show up to the County Clerk's Office at least forty minutes early. Time schedules changed, slots opened. Sometimes things were pushed forward or back just by the very nature of appointment.
Dean had people coming to witness, his friend Garcia, whom Castiel liked intrinsically although he had never actually met her, and someone called John Constantine, who he hadn't heard much of. Probably he should have told at least Gabriel -- but he had a feeling his older brother wouldn't mind so much to just be invited to a subsequent party instead. Sam Winchester had not been brought up in conversation, and Cas did not think it wise to ask over something he wasn't really sure about.
While they waited, he'd filled out a form for name change. It hadn't really been a discussion but -- Cas' name no longer suited him. Change seemed to suit him terribly these days, and although it was slightly strange, he was not nervous.
"Dean," he said after a moment, but had no words beyond. Between his little slip of paper and a pen, he was awkwardly attempting to adjust his tie (silk, cerulean blue). He couldn't seem to manage it, no matter how hard he tried today. Tighten. Left. Right. It felt awkward at his throat. He was not nervous.
“Hm?” Dean asked, having already filled out his part of the paper and signed it before Cas could have a chance to fuss over him. His suit was the only actual tailored garment he owned (aside from his dress blues, of course,) and he’d actually gone out of his way to find a tie to match his...shit groom’s he supposed. That was a phrase he’d never thought would be one he thought. There was a pocket square to go with it, of course, because if Dean was going to get all prettied up in a monkey suit, he was damn well going to do the whole nine, waistcoat and all.
“You doin’ okay?” He was terrified. Sure, he wasn’t letting it show, but some part of him was absolutely sure that Cas was just going to wander off forever before this was done or something else was going to go horribly wrong.
Dean was distractingly nice looking in that suit, and he was torn between just watching him and getting his tie on properly. His own suit was black with thin pinstripes. A charcoal shirt. But this tie -- "What?" Cas gave Dean a look of confusion that turned plaintive.
"I'm fine." He gestured to his tie. "I can't--"
Okay. Maybe he was a little nervous.
Dean moved behind him and fixed his collar, and then turned him around to adjust the knot on his tie so he could breathe a little easier. “It’ll be okay. Promise.” That wasn’t a thing in his power to promise, but it didn’t really matter. He’d do anything for his angel.
Garcia had been instructed to dress up, and dress up she did. She didn’t think a LBD was really appropriate for a wedding, so she wore a 1940s style dress in dove grey with heels to match, her hair freshly curled. She was so excited she couldn’t help bouncing a little as she looked around for Dean and his angel. She’d shown up early thinking that it was far better form to be early rather than late.
"I'm not worried, Dean." Castiel did seem relieved when his tie problem was fixed though. It was a little embarrassing, considering that he wore a tie to work daily. He'd never had a problem tying one before.
He might have been a little nervous, but he wasn't worried. Everything would be fine. Better than fine.
Instead of explaining, he glanced past Dean, gave a half a nod at an approaching Garcia. "That's the friend you want to wine and dine," he noted. She looked very cheerful.
Dean finished fussing over Cas and looked over to...”Shit, Pen. You clean up nice,” he said, turning to her and grinning. He was pretty sure she was going to hug him, and because it was a special day and he was in a good mood, he’d allow it.
“Oh, please, like I’d slum it to the happiest day of your life.” She grinned as well, play slugging Dean on the arm in lieu of hugging him. Turning to Cas, Garcia offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia. Dean’s told me a bit about you, so it’s nice to meet you.” She figured Cas probably was as hug shy as Dean. She was a hugger, but she could deal.
Castiel was just appreciative of the fact that she hadn't felt the need to punch him, fake or otherwise. He offered a slight smile -- polite and oddly serious. "James Castiel," he greeted in return, and then gave a pause. "Although, I suppose not for very much longer. Cas, then." Dean called him Cas. It worked, he liked it.
"You've done a lot for Dean recently. I should like to get along with you." Hi, awkward.
Huh. The one time Dean actually expected her to go for the hug and she didn’t. Wonders never ceased. Dean frowned. Cas then? Wait, what? He took the paper from Cas and actually looked at it.
Dean wasn’t usually at a loss for words, especially when he felt he needed to serve as social lubricant. Now, staring at the words Castiel Winchester on a piece of paper... Dean wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. All he knew was that he didn’t think he’d ever been more touched.
“Cas is a good name. And how could I not do stuff for Dean? Lookit the puppy eyes.” She pointed to Dean’s face and grinned. “I don’t know, he’s not my brother, but he totally is. I’m surprised my parents haven’t started asking me if he’s eating right.” Garcia smiled, understanding why Dean liked Castiel immediately.
He was right for having decided to like Penelope before meeting her -- she was the kind of family that Dean ought be surrounding himself with. "I am grateful," he said with an understanding sort of nod, and then turned a too long stare filled with entirely too much eye contact on Dean. That wasn't quite a puppy face, although Cas knew very well which one she meant.
Reaching out, he settled a careful hand on Dean's arm. "Is that acceptable?" He asked of the name on the slip of paper -- he suspected it was, but perhaps he should have asked first.
“Yeah,” Dean said, shaking his head out of those thoughts. “No, yeah it’s...I just don’t know what to say.” He looked up at Cas. They really had embraced whatever their life was together hadn’t they?
It was easier to acknowledge Garcia than it was to stay on this uncomfortably emotional train of thought.
“The hell are you doing telling your parents about me?”
“Oh, they asked where I was and I said your place and Dad asked if you were boning me and I told him not to be gross and he said if not, then I should at least make sure that you were eating well. Dean, I don’t know, they’re old and they’re hippies.” That was basically how all conversations with her family went. She was more than happy to provide them with a distraction from their sentimental discussions, if only because they’d make her cry too. Thank every god for waterproof eyeliner and mascara.
Further distraction arrived only a moment later with the appearance of John Constantine -- the British blond, while not late, was kind of pushing it in the on time factor. To his credit, he hadn't been late so much as lost in this ridiculous building. Administrative buildings always reminded him of why he should never get a real job.
"Oi," he said, half jogging up to Dean and the rest of the folks crowding about. One lady and a serious looking man. He suppose it was obvious enough which guy Dean was marrying anyway.
"I'm not late, am I? Who's a hippie?" He clapped Dean on the back -- smiled charmingly at the brunette and their friend.
"Parents," Cas answered, looking at John as if trying to analyze every molecule of his being with a long stare. "You're John." He did not mind that his moment had been ruined, because he wasn't trying to make it a moment.
"Er, yeah, that'd be right." John agreed and shook hands with the bloke. Dean hadn't been kidding, that was some hardcore eye contact.
Dean laughed. He’d honestly been about to text John to make sure that the guy hadn’t got lost or possibly something worse. He didn’t imagine the guy to break plans easily if he could help it, especially when shit was important.
And hell, he wasn’t getting his dad at his wedding so having a John there almost seemed necessary. Like fuck he’d ever invite his dad to his wedding anyway, and he was trying to keep his brother just as far from his mind.
“Sorry, yeah. John, Cas, Garcia.” Because nobody but Dean got to call her Pen, not even his soon-to-be husband.
Her parents called her Penny and Sebastian called her Penelope, and the rest of the world called her Garcia. Dean was safe. She smiled and shook hands with Constantine, chuckling a little at his entrance. “Everyone’s here, then?” She rifled around in her purse, making sure she had Kleenex. “Anyone else think they’re going to cry? I’ve got enough Kleenex for two and don’t give me the ‘boys don’t cry’ talk, I will step on your feet and these heels are pointy.”
John liked Garcia immediately, even if he did wave his hand straight off, vetoing away the kleenex. He wasn't going to cry. Dean was a pal - had been a fast one, too, but he wasn't about to get soppy over anything here. He was just going to sign a thing, offer a drink for some time next week and then let people get on with whatever needed doing. Probably a lot of sex. That was what he'd expect if he was getting married, anyway.
"No need, love," he told Garcia with a wink. "Save the trees."
"No, thank you," Castiel agreed, because he wasn't the crying type, that he was aware of. He didn't feel overly emotional, not really. Mostly he just hoped that his tie was still straight.
He glanced at a clock on the wall even as a group of people exited the room that they were waiting for. Five minutes ahead of schedule. Good.
Dean took a deep breath, and sure enough not long after, they were called in. The deep breath before the plunge not into cold water, no. Dean was waiting to come into something warm and perfect after being out in the cold for so very long.
“I wasn’t supposed to not see you before this, right?” he asked, using what nerves lingered in him to make a joke that he hoped wouldn’t fall flat on Cas. He was ready for this. He just couldn’t believe it was happening.
Garcia was already sniffly, eyes filmy with tears that she dabbed at with one of her Kleenexes. She smiled at the British guy, Cas, and Dean in turn, waiting to be instructed on what to do. She figured she’d just end up standing and witnessing before signing some papers. That was easy enough.
John smiled back at Garcia, offered her a friendly sort of shoulder rub that none of his normal crowd was ever allowed to know about and shuffled into the room behind the couple. He adjusted his tie for the sake of looking presentable in the back of the room and absolutely knew when to just keep his mouth shut and be polite, thanks. Garcia looked like the picture taking type, so he didn't offer.
Cas only rolled his shoulders in a gesture that was a close proximity of a shrug (but at little more professional, a little less lazy) and cocked his head to the side to give Dean a calculating look, as if trying to decide if his words were a joke. "Someone had to make sure my tie was straight," he said after a beat -- thinking himself quite clever for coming up with something that was both a real answer and possibly also a joke. Maybe. It was always hard to tell.
He folded his hands in front of himself so not to find something to fidget with.
Dean slipped his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Garcia. She’d know how it worked and he trusted her not to do something dickish with it like John might. Probably wouldn’t, but there was a chance. If Garcia wanted to fuck his life, she had much easier ways to do it and probably would have already.
“It’s about the only thing about you that’s straight right now,” Dean said, smirking at Cas’ almost joke. He tried so hard. It was adorable.
The ceremony, for as much as it was a ceremony, was rather quick and painless. Dean wasn’t really religious, but he knew Cas was and it seemed wrong somehow to be marrying an angel without something close to traditional vows. Granted, they didn’t mention God, but it was better that way, felt more complete to Dean as though by not swearing to any higher power, they were accountable only to each other. That was what mattered most.
There was an exchange of smooth, plain silver rings, a kiss to seal it, and then the signing of the document that made everything official. Dean just barely, barely managed to keep himself from picking Cas up and spinning him.
Garcia turned the sound off on the phone before taking a few photos - Dean and Cas’ kiss, Dean near tears when they said their vows, their hands joined together. High school yearbook for four years, hell yeah that was finally paying off. She emailed the photos for herself because she figured she’d print out one of the better ones and give it to Castiel in a nice frame for a gift.
Slipping the phone back into Dean’s jacket pocket, Garcia was proud of herself for not outright crying.
Constantine wasn't teared up either, but that didn't mean he wasn't grinning like a fool in excitement for the two of them. After everything was properly signed and they were ushered out of the room (more people waiting and all), he let out a pleased little noise and clapped both men on the shoulder.
"That was right pleasant for a wedding. Just enough of not much. Feel any different now?" It was a silly question, but it might help everyone from being weirdly emotional. Might lead them to the outdoors where he could light a fag and be just as well pleased as ever.
But Castiel was busy looking a little too overwhelmed for words, shoulder pressed close to Dean's as he glanced through all the paperwork they'd amassed just so that he wouldn't do something that might be considered anything but reserved in nature. The urge to laugh for no reason was rising steadily.
“Hold that thought.” Dean kept them walking outside. Shit, if he wanted a cigarette of victory, he was pretty sure that John was dying for one in general. Once they were out and down the damn stairs, he couldn’t stop himself any longer. He took the papers out of his husband’s hands, passed it off to whoever else would grab it from him, and actually did pick Castiel up and spin him.
Garcia took the papers, grinning and leaning against Constantine. She just liked watching how Dean looked softer around Castiel, how Castiel looked brighter around Dean. If they hadn’t gotten married, things wouldn’t seem right somehow. She wondered if they needed something for a wedding present. Whatever you got people for wedding presents when they weren’t registered somewhere.
John leaned right back on Garcia, shoulder to shoulder until they were just sort of holding each other up while they watched the newly weds. "Shoulda gotten them a toaster or something," John noted, because he was just definitely a mind reader. Or possibly just because that was what everyone thought when people got married.
He fidgeted through his pockets for a pack of smokes.
Cas, who was nearly the same size as Dean, was a little shocked at being picked up and spun about -- but his half gasp turned into a bark of laughter just about as soon as he was set back down. "That was unexpected," he told his husband reproachfully, but his cheeks were flushed and he didn't quite frown.
“Shut up,” Dean said fondly, and made that much easier for them both to manage by kissing him again.