I couldn't help myself, this just begged to be written. As always, follow me at JollySnidge on twitter for the latest update. See my profile for a link to my novel 'Me and Mine' on amazon.
A pile of dry wall skitters to the ground.
"Watch it!" Someone booms from behind the partition. Castiel winces at the noise. A sledgehammer pounds away and dust blooms into the air.
"Cas? You ok?" Dean calls from across the room.
"Fine!" Castiel yells back.
"I'm almost done." Dean shouts. He's talking to a man in a sweat stained vest. The other man, in paint spattered jeans, continues to reduce the wall to rubble and flakes of plaster.
"There." Dean walks over, his dark clothes a little dusty, hair peppered white. "We should be good by the end of next week."
"Good." Castiel echoes. "It looks..."
"Like a bomb hit? Yeah – but I'll make it better, I swear." Dean looks around at the peeling paint, cracked wood floor and spider web strewn ceiling.
"I believe you." Castiel murmurs, touching his hand.
"Come on, let's go for a walk." Dean leads him back into the open air, the parking lot where the Chevy is still loaded with their possessions. Beyond that is woodland, and Dean and Castiel walk down over a partially overgrown wood chipped path. They walk through dripping foliage and onwards down to a gravel covered lot strewn with debris – a white window frame, broken glass, fragmented clapboard and a shattered white china lamp, its cord a dull brown snake on the ground.
"Jesus." Dean breathes. "Guess we're lucky there are still walls up at the house."
"Come on." Castiel tugs him lightly and they walk away from the destruction.
Up the hill is a vacant square of turned earth, metal rods protruding from clumps of malformed concrete.
"Think they salted the earth?" Dean asks.
"Maybe." Castiel looks at the patch thoughtfully. He walks onto it and looks amongst the shreds of wood and sprouts of tatty glass. He picks up a gold tube that had once contained a lipstick. It looks familiar, though rusted now. It could have been anyone's.
"You keeping that?" Dean asks as Castiel puts it in his pocket.
Castiel looks at him, runs a hand over his greying hair to keep it out of his eyes.
"I lost my virginity here – I want a memento."
"I thought I was your memento." Dean grouses.
"You're my lover - memento's fit in pockets." Castiel informs him. "We should get back."
"Yeah...it's kind of a blow though." Dean says as they start walking back towards the main house. "I thought...after all this time it might be like it used to be – like I'd just stepped away."
"That's my romantic spirit rubbing off on you." Castiel sighs. "You should have knows it'd have gone to crap without you here. What's Kellerman's without Dean Winchester?"
"A load of boring people drinking wine in cocktail wear." Dean chuckles. He glances at the wet, vibrant forest. "Want to do it in the woods? Just for old time's sake?"
Castiel glares at him.
"I was just being nostalgic." Dean mutters.
"I want to make a good impression on everyone...I can't do that all bruised and covered in mud."
"You made a good impression on me all bruised and covered in lipstick." Dean points out.
"Ah to be young again." Castiel raises an eyebrow as they continue their walk.
In the parking lot a truck has turned up and two men are parting the canvas on a large board, underneath the covering are the words, 'Winchester Summer Resort – Opening Summer 1997'.
Dean smiles and turns to Castiel, kissing him gently. The two workmen don't even bat an eye.
"It's going to be a good year." Dean grins. "I can feel it – two months time and we'll be waltzing on the main floor."
Castiel smiles at him, kisses him lightly.
"Happy anniversary." He murmurs.