Re: Gabriel + Dean + open = this is a mess guys
Dean broke first. The pressure of the alcohol had gotten to him way harder than he thought. He could've just gone up to the bedroom or the office or even anywhere else in the house.
It didn't matter. The treehouse was Cas' safe space and by extension, Dean's. Physical fucking proof that he could hold his life together enough to build something worthwhile. That he could take care of the people who were important to him and not destroy himself in the process. Cas probably didn't know that, but that was fine.
It'd been ten minutes of deep breathing and forcing himself to just be still and quiet before he actually noticed. The thing Magneto was doing to Storm? Yeah, that was not how he'd left them. And Cyclops and Gambit and Wolverine really were not supposed to be in that position ever. That was just asking to end up clawed or beaten up with concussive blasts of kinetic energy or something.
There was only one answer to this. One short, annoying answer.
First and foremost, Dean was a Winchester. There was a certain implication in that. One that involved false bottoms in things and weaponry stored places that were very well hidden. The silver Taurus PT92 had originally come out of the false bottom in the Impala, but Dean liked too much to just leave it in his car. It was a reliable weapon it should be out where they could get to it in case of fucked up invasion or something. Shut up. The OC was fucked. It could happen.
Didn't matter. Weapon tucked in the back of his jeans, Dean moved too calmly down the ladder. Every muscle in his body radiating his anger. Dean had gone straight past pissed and livid and right into John levels of not fucking happy. "Gabriel!" That? That was either his father's voice or the asshole from his dreams. It didn't matter. Not right now.