A/N: Well hello there. Nice to meet you all. Had this funny idea for a Destiel fic after watching 'My Bloody Valentine' for the hundredth time, so here we are! Hope you enjoy, leave me a li'l comment if you would cos they make me smile :) xx
"I don't know, Sammy," Dean murmured to the man beside him as they crept slowly down the dark, deserted hallway, guns raised protectively in front of them, "something just isn't right here."
"C'mon Dean, nine times out of ten it's another gang of Demons on a power trip now that Crowley's loosened their leash a bit." Sam hissed back, his wide eyes darting about, looking for traces of sulphur, blood, or indeed anything remotely suspicious.
"And how many Demons have you come across that bind two people face-to-face together with gift ribbon and just take off? Or make their victims tattoo their names on to each other?!" Sam just shrugged. "I'm tellin' you man, this is not your run of the mill salt, stake and slay kind of hunt. We've got a nutjob on our hands."
At that moment, a resounding crash split the silent air, coming from a room on the left. They had traced the strange activity of whatever creature they were dealing with back to an old abandoned greeting cards factory – just the kind of places the Winchester boys loved to frequent on a Friday night. Well, someone had to keep the world safe.
Sam and Dean shared a quick look that told each of them they were thinking the same thing, and they marched forwards towards the sound of the clattering, guns still raised. They reached the closed door of the room the sound was coming from and Dean raised his hand to stop Sam from turning the handle.
"Wait…" Dean said, and Sam paused, looking incredulous, "is that… does that sound like crying to you?!"
Sam's brow creased and he looked at Dean as if he'd gone insane, but then he heard it. A distinct wailing noise was emanating from the sliver of space underneath the door frame. He leaned closer to the door, nearly pressing his ear against the wood. Loud, wet sobbing sounds were coming thick and fast now, and the hunters, thinking of the possibility of victims, wasted no time shoving the door open and barging inside.
The sight they were met with caused them to stand stock still, their eyes wider than was surely healthy, despite wanting to look away so very, very badly. The room was a scrap heap of old machinery, and it was absolutely littered with old, decaying remnants of greetings cards. The breeze from the door opening was enough to send a whole pile of them fluttering about the room like confetti, raining down on the huddled, weeping, naked man in the centre of the floor, occasionally banging his feet on the ground like a toddler having a tantrum.
Sam risked a glance at Dean, who was beginning to look so uncomfortable with the situation that Sam wondered if he might fire his gun at the ceiling just to restore some masculinity. Sam however, was the more sympathetic of the two.
The naked man appeared to take no notice of Sam's greeting, and instead reached for a card next to his feet and began to read it, his eyes brimming with tears again. Dean discreetly started to edge away before the next wave of hysterical crying began and turned to inspect some of the rusty machinery that lay scattered around. If Dean had to guess, and it would honestly be a guess because the production of greeting cards wasn't exactly his forte, he would say that the thing he was looking at now had once been some sort of printing press. He struggled to make out the writing etched into the side of the metal.
Valentine's Day Card Press
"Bingo!" He cried, grinning to himself, and mentally adding greeting card production to the list of things he knew all about. The main other things on the list were: hunting, fixing the Impala, picking up women and where to buy the best cheeseburgers in every state in America.
Of course that would be the thing that got the attention of the psycho baby-man in the middle of the floor. His head snapped up and he stared at Dean in surprise for a few moments. Dean was just getting very seriously weirded out when a huge grin broke across the man's chubby features.
In a blink, the man had vanished from his spot on the floor and reappeared inches away from Dean's nose, making him jump back in surprise and cock his gun.
"Dean!" Sam shouted out of impulse from near the door, causing the naked creature to whip his head around and smile at the other hunter cheerily for a moment, before focusing back on Dean.
"Oh! Hello there, friend!" The creature said in a singsong voice, and before Dean could react, enveloped him in a tight, bone-crushing hug. Dean struggled and protested admirably, but its grip was vicelike and determined. Eventually, he was released and he staggered backwards, panting. "What a wonderful surprise for you to come and pay me a visit! And in such a perfect place! Aren't these cards just beautiful? One for every human in the world, just so they know they're loved."
"Cupid! It's gotta be a Cupid, Dean!" Sam called out, sounding considerably more terrified than he should be of a form of angel. Well, he was next up on the hug list after all.
With a giggle and a cheeky wink in Dean's direction, Cupid vanished and reappeared behind a tense and fearful looking Sam. Dean watched with a mild sense of satisfaction, rubbing his bruised biceps, as the Cupid tapped Sam on the shoulder, causing him to spin around in alarm and be hugged within an inch of his life.
"Okay, okay, enough!" Dean shouted, gun pointed squarely at the Cupid's now very happy, very naked form. Dean willed himself not to look anywhere but his face. "What's going on here, Cupid? Are you behind all this weird crap happening all over town?"
Cupid turned to look at Dean, a bemused smile gracing his rosy cheeked face. He shrugged. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Dean." A sudden peal of laughter suddenly burst from the cherub's lips. "Oh aren't rhymes just the best fun?" He chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye.
"You know what we mean, Cupid. People tattooing their names onto each other while their sleeping? Rohypnol in loveheart candies? This has got your name written all over it. I should have known it'd be a Cupid." Sam said, walking casually over to where Dean stood, both of them lowering their shotguns in mild embarrassment when they realised the futility of such an object against a soldier of Heaven – no matter how low the rank.
The Cupid started chewing his lip anxiously, twiddling his thumbs.
Dean didn't let this cutesy act sway him from this line of interrogation. "Yeah, I guess we just thought with you being an Angel and all, we wouldn't have to deal with this kind of psychotic-"
"Yeah well, Angels fall!" The Cupid suddenly yelled in a decibel the boys didn't think a Cupid was capable of reaching, and Dean itched to point the gun again, just so he didn't feel so defenceless. The cherub seemed to be taking some deep breaths to calm himself, and the two brothers eyed each other warily but said nothing. When the anger had seeped out of him, he took on a despondent air that made the bright façade he had just greeted the Winchesters with seem all the more impressive. "You wouldn't understand." The Cupid sighed, walking back over to his spot in the midst of all the cards.
"Try us." Dean said, his face stony. When people were being hurt, it was not in Dean's nature to sympathise with the culprit. Luckily, that was what he had Sam for.
"We've seen a lot. If anyone can understand, it's us." Sam urged, edging closer to the angel who was now standing with his back to the Winchesters.
"Could you ever understand what it is like to devote yourself so completely to a task?" The brothers looked at one another briefly, mutually thinking of the times in their lives they had realised they would die hunters, and die hunting. "To aid humans in finding true love is my devotion. My obsession. I was born to carry out this job! Heaven can never understand how completely it destroys us Cupids when we are forbidden from letting true love come to pass. We are too low in our ranks even to be told why our lovers cannot be together! We receive the orders and we must obey. Well one day I simply refused. I fired my bow right into the heart of the one I had been forced to swear not to touch, and that same day she fell in love with her best friend. The looks on their faces! OH, it was just divine. They're married now, three little angels of their own and happy as clams! None the wiser that their love got me kicked out of Paradise straight onto my bouncing bottom."
The Cupid sighed and materialised next to Dean, resting a head on his shoulder. Dean tensed immediately, but didn't push him away.
"So… err... what you're saying is, you got kicked out of Heaven for disobeying orders… and now you're playing by your own rules?" Sam summarised, much to Dean's relief, who was having trouble keeping up with the sob story.
"Precisely!" The Cupid grinned, his head snapping up.
"But you can't just do whatever the hell you want! People might not want to fall in love with other people!" Dean cried, infuriated at the thought.
"Oh, silly. I still have my powers! I can sense the lurrrrve! If two people want to be together it's written on their hearts! I just help it along!" The Cupid was grinning even wider now if that were possible and standing boldly in front of the two brothers, hands on his naked, naked hips.
"With rohypnol?!" Sam cried, incredulously.
"Hmm, I'll admit my methods are a little more… unorthodox now…"
"You're damn right!" Dean almost yelled. "Messing with people's free will is not okay with us, birthday suit, so-"
"Oh, Deeeean. Tut tut. You are not listening!" The Cupid cut in before Dean could finish, poking him in the shoulder. Dean opened his mouth to protest further but was silenced by something menacing lurking deep within the angel's eyes. "I know when someone loves somebody else! I can feel it! It gives me little tingles all over. Like you, right now!"
Sam's head whipped up from the Cupid's face to Dean's, which was a mixture of terror and fury. "What?!"
"Mmmm, yes. It's filling up this whole ROOM with happy feelings, Dean! I can sense a very…" The Cupid seemed to ponder for a moment, as if choosing the exact word to use, "profound love within you. It's just everywhere!" The Cupid span around as if illustrating his point, dancing through the invisible love that Dean was supposedly pouring out of his skin. "In fact! I can't just let you wallow about in that old repressed stuff can I? What kind of Cupid would that make me?"
Dean, who had apparently been too stunned to speak thus far, was suddenly roused into action by these words. "What?! No, that's not- I don't need you to do anything! I'm not in love! Who would I be in love with? There's nobody – Sammy back me up here!"
Sam just shrugged and shook his head. "He's a Cupid, Dean. Maybe…"
"Maybe nothing! Shut your trap Sam. Everyone just shut up about love for God's sakes."
"Oh dear." The Cupid sighed and looked at Dean pityingly. "Well this just won't do. Denying your true love, being rude to your own little brother, taking the Lord's name in vain…" The Cupid shot Sam a weary glance. "How do you cope?"
If Dean didn't know better he'd say that Sam smirked a little at that.
"I've got a darling little solution for our teensy weensy problem Dean, don't you worry!" Dean shot a desperate look at the only door of the room. There was no way he'd make it there before a teleporting Cupid could get hold of him. "Now, just relax."
Dean edged away as the Cupid started to move towards him, but really he should have known better, because of course as soon as he turned around, a smiling cherub face was peering up at him, and before he knew it, he was being prodded on the nose with a fat, sausage finger. "BOOP!"
Dean stumbled backwards, the force of the Cupid's magic hitting him in a tsunami wave. He landed on the floor, sending a whirlwind of pink, glittery cards flying all around him.
And then the Cupid was gone.