sunspot: we have offended the heavens. aren't you the least bit excited? (excited for this atrocity)
[personal profile] sunspot
Title: Lesson Learned
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: 13+ for language and deliciousness
Word Count: 1100
Warnings: Here be dinosaurs.
Summary: Castiel, as an angel, never went to kindergarten and therefore missed a lot of valuable life lessons.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: Possible follow up to this. With pictures!

Sam walked towards the motel room with the heavy duffle bag over his shoulder. He felt something dripping down his pant leg. He had a horrible sinking feeling that it was cow’s blood, considering the fact that he was lugging a duffle full of raw beef for Castiel’s dinner.

It was a weird, slimy thing, having to feed a velociraptor eighty and ninety pounds of raw meat a day. And Sam was not impressed at having to do it every day. Paying for it had been tricky enough to start with, until Sam got better at defrauding credit card companies. But actually having to physically drag it around was annoying and hard on his shoulders and back. Dean had clearly forgotten that Sam was a delicate flower.

Then there came the actual feeding of the dinoangel, which was... Sam couldn’t think of any other word but ‘horrific’. Maybe ‘messy’.

And Dean kept making excuses and suckering Sam into feeding Cas while Dean got to sit back and take the easy dinosaur related chores like baths, lively games of fetch and the occasional ‘walkies’.

Sam dry swallowed four tablets of extra strength Advil. Evenings with Dean and Castiel had usually caused headaches before the baby dinosaur fiasco. Now it felt like bombs going off behind his eyes.

“Dean,” Sam called, pushing open the door. “Dean, I don’t want to have to feed Castiel anymore. It makes me uncomfortable. Oh... Hey Cas.”

Castiel looked up from where he was perched on the bed. His muzzle was covered in blood. “Hello Sam. I’m afraid there has been a grave miscalculation.”

Sam blinked. “Um... I have a sack full of meat here. What are you eating?” He was suddenly so much more worried than he should have cause to be.

“I got hungry waiting for you. And Dean would not take me out; he said we had to wait until it was dark so as to not attract undue attention.”

“Well that makes sense, Cas,” Sam said, slinging the bag to the floor and unzipping it. “Here.”

Castiel hopped off the bed and twisted his head at Sam. “Thank you,” he said gravely. He stared at Sam for a few moments with his blank eyes and then stuck his head in the bag. “This makes me feel even more guilty, you know,” he said conversationally.

Sam eyed him carefully. “Dean?” he called again. “Did he go out, Castiel?”

“He’s on the bed.”

Sam looked at the bed. He looked at the big, shiny blood stain on the spread. He saw a few shards of broken bone and a few grisly pieces of muscle. There was a clump of hair on the pillow.

“Dean!” Sam said again, panicking.

Castiel didn’t look sheepish or disconcerted. He mostly just looked cold and vicious with a bit of cow tongue stuck between his teeth.

“You. I. Dean.” Sam pushed his hands through his hair. “Castiel, I can’t even. How. What.”

“I explained already, Samuel. Again, I apologize. But Dean should have been aware that a velociraptor is a big responsibility.” Castiel tiled his head back and let the last scrap of beef slide down his throat.

“You ate my brother.”

“Sam, you know I am not fully accustomed to human behaviour, so please don’t snap at me when I ask how many times you will need me to apologize for this.”

Sam barked out a shocked, short laugh. “Cas. You ATE Dean.”

“I can fix him,” Castiel said, licking blood off one of his claws. “I’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, maybe you can beat your time,” Sam said, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, watching the raptor in case he wasn’t quite done eating.

“Do you think I can? It might be challenging.” He edged over to Sam and nudged him with his snout.

Sam reached into his pocket for more Advil. “Castiel, you can’t just eat Dean every time you get bored.”

“... But-”

“Castiel. You cannot eat my brother when you get bored, angry, gloomy, distracted, sad, annoyed, irritated, frustrated, hungry, thoughtful, aroused, restless, or otherwise unhappy. Am I making myself abundantly clear to you?”

Castiel looked at his clawed feet. “Sam, you don’t need to lecture me. I’m not a grade school student.”

“Castiel, I’m not sure I believe that. He wouldn’t take you for a walk so you could chase your tail and look at butterflies, so you cracked him open like a crab leg and ate his organs, man. You missed some very valuable lessons from kindergarten.”

Castiel’s tail twitched. “Could you teach me?”



“It’s cool, Bobby,” Sam said, holding up a placating hand. “He’s learned his lesson. We just need a place to lay low while Cas figures out what he needs to fix Dean again. You know, now that he’s not in his regular vessel.”

“He. Ate your brother. But it’s okay because he’s learned his lesson.” Bobby was repeating it all very slowly, like he didn’t believe it. Because he didn’t. He set down his shot gun and looked at the dinosaur on his porch.

Something about a feathered lizard the size of a Great Dane wearing a backpack was so very unwholesome. Castiel was backlit and his feather were catching the last bit of sunshine. He almost looking like he was glowing. Very angelic and yet, Bobby still felt uncomfortable.

“I have learned my lesson, Mister Singer. ‘A Good Dinosaur Does Not Eat His Friends.’”

Bobby nodded and walked back into the house. “Beer, Sam?”

“Good God yes please.”

“I learned other lessons too,” Castiel said, hopping over an uneven floor board and following the men into the kitchen. “I enjoyed finger painting. There’s something for your refrigerator in my backpack.”

Bobby managed to keep a stoic demeanour while he unzipped the pocket. It was a finger painted (claw painted?) picture. It may have been a picture of Bobby, Sam and Castiel in front of Bobby’s house. There was a little cross off to one side with the name ‘Dean’ scrawled above it with an arrow pointing. Castiel was a still a dinosaur in the picture though.

“I can’t deal with this,” Bobby said, throwing up his hands. “You’re welcome to my place, but I’m getting the hell out of here.” He was already putting on his coat. “And if there’s claw marks on my furniture when I get back... Let’s be honest, I probably won’t notice. Go nuts, Curious Castielasaurus and Sam in the Yellow Hat.”

“It’s one of my better works, I think,” Castiel said, looking over Sam shoulder. He didn’t notice Sam trying to tug his own hair out.

Castiel learned his lesson this time, guys.
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