Destiel One-shots

Cardigan Keep Away

A/N: I have three requests that are only halfway done, and yet, I couldn't resist this. Set after 14x15, but no real spoilers, so it's safe to read.

Pleasantville had NOT been pleasant.

AT ALL.

Cas glared at the road as he and Sam drove back to the bunker, pondering how someone could name such a horrific town something so innocent.

The whole town had been brainwashed by some psycho psychic, including Sam. The guy had ended up in a cardigan sweater, glasses, and a man bun, insisting that his name was Justin.

They both shuddered at the hideous thought of that. 

And to top it off, Pleasantville had no cell service. None whatsoever. So Cas and Sam had been out of touch with Jack and Dean for about a week.

Naturally, that meant that the second they drove somewhere that received cell reception, their phones started blowing up.

Ten missed calls from Dean, three from Jack, eleven new voicemails and twenty seven text messages. 

And that was just Cas's phone.

Sam's had ten missed calls from Dean, two from Jack, one from Mary, somehow twelve voicemails from Dean, and twenty six texts.

Cas glanced at his phone and promptly pulled the car over, dialing Dean's number immediately.

"So you're alive!" Dean said,half sarcastic and half worried. "Wonderful! Thanks for calling!"

"Pleasantville had no cell service, we apologize," Cas replied.

"How'd the hunt go? Was it witches?" Sam and Cas exchanged a glance. 

"We wish," Sam muttered.

"It's....It's a long story," Cas offered. "We'll explain when we get back."

"Alright."

"How's Jack?"

"Fine, I think. Donatello says he's okay, so that's something."

"That's good,"

"So get this," Sam jumped in. "We found some rather....detailed love letters between the first victim and this girl from Pleasantville,"

"Okaaaay?"

"And Cas kept them. I think he enjoys rereading them." Cas glared at him and Sam fought back a laugh.

"Sam got brainwashed, had a man bun, and threw me out of a house for saying hell." Cas shot back. "I'll send you a picture."

"YES." Dean declared. Sam;s eyes widened.

"Please tell me you don't actually have a picture." He begged.

"You were wearing a cardigan and glasses. Of course I have a picture," Cas fiddled with the phone as Dean's laughter echoed through it. "AAAAAaaaaand, sent."

"I hate you." 

"Understood."

*******

Dean was standing smugly in the bunker's main room by the time they walked in. Sam eyed his brother warily. With all the pranks they pulled on each other, he could only imagine what he'd do with that picture.

"Give me your phone," Sam ordered immediately.

"Why?" Dean said cheekily.

"So I can smash it and destroy that picture forever."