Just Another Day in Paradise: Day 1 - Airplane

Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.

A/N: This fic is part of the same AU as one of my others, "25 Days of a Supernatural Christmas." If you haven't read it yet, here's what you need to know:

Season 9 never happened. After Season 8, although Cas had lost his grace, the angels never fell. Sam also healed on his own after the failed Third Trial, instead of needing Gadreel to possess him. So, Kevin's also still alive. Dean and Castiel are together, as are Sam and Gabriel, and Castiel sometimes calls Dean "In Monons," a nickname that, according to a few Enochian dictionaries I've looked up, is pronounced "EH-en MOH-noh-nuhs" and means "My heart."

So, all that said, enjoy!
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"Flight thirty-six B to Honolulu, you are now clear to begin boarding. Flight thirty-six B to Honolulu, I repeat, you are now clear to begin boarding."

"Dean, I believe that's our flight," Cas said quietly, trying to keep most of the excitement he felt out of his voice so as not to upset the hunter beside him, who clearly wasn't as enthused. The two of them had left the bunker at just after one o'clock in the morning, arriving at the airport in Tulsa, Oklahoma six hours later so they could catch their nine a.m. plane; and Dean, the mighty hunter who had survived everything from Wendigos to Hell to Purgatory, had been jumpy the entire time.

Castiel couldn't understand why that was, really. From what everyone including Sam and Gabriel had said, the beaches on the Hawaiian Islands were supposed to be some of the most beautiful in the world. The only reason Sam and the archangel weren't tagging along, in fact, was that they'd already made plans to visit Hershey, Pennsylvania during the same week. And Kevin had taken a trip to the beach in Florida with Josephine earlier that year, since everyone had chipped in to pay for it at Christmastime. That meant that Dean and Castiel were going to be staying alone, in a very nice beachfront cottage, for almost the entirety of seven days. Surely one ten-hour plane ride was worth it, right?

Dean sighed heavily, standing and staring warily at the gate that would lead them to their plane.

"How in the hell did I let you talk me into this, Cas?" he whispered shakily, hand clenching the handles of his duffel so hard that his knuckles were white. "You know how much I hate planes. The last three times I've flown I nearly died!" He suddenly swallowed, eyes widening and looking even more nervous at that particular revelation. "Oh God, I don't think I can do this…"

"Dean, I promise you we'll be fine," Cas said calmly, taking one of Dean's bags from him and strapping it across his own shoulders so he could clasp the hunter's hand in his. "Hundreds of thousands of people make this trip every year, and they come out completely unharmed. Besides, I've already checked, and there are no signs of demonic activity, terrorism, or any other threats to our safety here now. Everything will be alright."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean muttered, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself as Cas began guiding them through the gate and the collapsible tunnel that led to the door of the jet. "And a beach vacation in Hawaii's worth it, I know. I just…"

"Hate flying. I understand. But I'll be right here with you the entire time, In Monons. You have nothing to worry about."

Dean grinned at the pet name Cas had given him eight months ago, raising a suggestive eyebrow at the once-angel. "I guess if you wanna follow me into the bathroom we could join the Mile High Club later."

Castiel just chuckled and shook his head. Only Dean would still find the energy to make jokes like that while he was still practically shaking in his boots.

It took them a few minutes to get to their seats near the back, since they had to wait for many people in front of them to put their carry-ons in the overhead bins and then take their seats. When they finally reached their assigned row Castiel entered first, taking the window seat so that he could partially block Dean's view of the sky outside. He had no issue with seeing the sky, as much time as he had spent in it in his long lifetime, so it wasn't much of a sacrifice.

Dean followed shortly after, sitting stiffly down in his own seat and pushing the armrest up so he could lean against Cas a little. The ex-angel smiled at him and handed him a classic car magazine he'd bought especially for Dean on the trip, and Dean eagerly accepted it, glad for any kind of distraction he could get. The front doors closed while he was reading about 1967 Mustangs and telling Cas all about how inferior they were to the Impala, and Cas smiled when he realized no passengers had arrived to claim the third seat next to him and Dean.

Only a few minutes later, they were forced to sit through the inevitable "What to Do If the Plane's Going to Crash" presentation all flight attendants everywhere were required to give, which did nothing to ease Dean's nerves once they buckled in and started taxiing across the runway.

"See Cas?" he whispered shakily a few minutes later as the plane started tilting upward and lifting off of the tarmac. "They're getting us ready for a freaking plane crash. They know something we don't, I bet." His fingers were now gripping the magazine so hard that the spine was looking ready to bend in half any second.

"Dean, hush," Castiel said firmly, trying to derail that train of thought before it got any worse. He rubbed his palm up and down the hunter's back, trying to instill some of his own calm into him. It pained him to see Dean like this, to witness such a strong man reduced to a jumpy, trembling mess by something as simple as air travel, and he wished there was more he could do to make him feel better. "We. Will. Be. Fine. I'll make sure nothing happens to you the entire time. Just try to relax, and we'll be landing before you know it."

Dean nodded and took a shaky breath, putting in a pair of earbuds and laying his head against Cas's shoulder so he could try to sleep the trip away. Castiel smiled and opened up the thick Hawaiian travel guide he had brought along to read, laying it on his lap and flipping the pages with one hand so he could keep rubbing Dean's back with the other. If Dean could manage to sleep through a few hours of the trip, maybe it would go more smoothly than he had thought.
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It didn't go more smoothly than he had thought.

For the first nine hours of the trip, everything went about as well as could be expected given Dean's nerves. He was restless and fidgety, sleeping fitfully in between multiple trips to the bathroom thanks to all the ginger ale he was constantly sipping on to keep his stomach calm, but other than a constant humming of Metallica when he was awake and being much more clingy with Cas than he usually was, he was doing alright.

At the beginning of the tenth hour, though, things got bad.

Castiel had completely forgotten to mention that he had checked the weather forecast earlier on Dean's phone and seen that the seas around Honolulu were experiencing a few minor tropical storms at the moment. That wasn't an issue for him at all, seeing as he'd spent most of his life up close and personal with things in the sky that were much more dangerous than lightning and rain. So in his mind, there was nothing to worry about as the sky outside grew dark and dense, lightning flashing and thunder rumbling as rain and ice plinked and splashed against the windows. They would just pass through the storm, bump around a little, and land. No big deal.

But when the "Fasten Seatbelt" light flashed on and the plane suddenly started to shake a little, the once-angel immediately realized his mistake.

In an instant, Dean went ramrod still in the seat beside him, sitting as rigidly as a statue while his eyes grew so wide it actually looked painful. He started breathing faster and shallower by the second, one hand gripping the armrest with white knuckles while he dug the fingernails of his other hand painfully hard into Castiel's thigh. The plane dipped a little, a few passengers startling awake and gasping in surprise, and all the color drained from Dean's face.

"Cas?" he squeaked, turning terrified eyes toward the blue-eyed man. "What's happening?" The plane shuddered and jolted again and Dean gasped, closing his eyes and almost panting now. "Oh God oh God oh God oh God…"

"Dean, it's only a–"

Cas had been about to say "only a little turbulence" when the plane suddenly shuddered and stalled, beginning to fall straight down through the air with the sickening feeling of careening down a rollercoaster track as it hit an air pocket and dropped. Several passengers screamed, even the most seasoned fliers not being used to things like this happening every day. The feeling was a little unpleasant even for the ex-angel, who had never loved free-falling even when he'd had his own wings. For Dean, it was downright heart-stopping.

Only a moment after they'd begun to fall, Cas felt Dean wrap his arms around him, pressing his face into the older man's chest and whimpering as helplessly as a child while he sought comfort in the only way he had left. Castiel just hugged him back, waiting until the descent abruptly stopped and the plane leveled out again, just as he had known it would. Once it had, he pulled Dean in closer, stroking his hair and trying to calm him down as much as he could, thanking his Father in Heaven that they only had half an hour of this left.

"Ca… Cas…" Dean gulped out between heaving breaths, eyes wet as the sheer terror his fear of flying stirred up in him threatened to reduce him to tears.

"Shh… It's alright now, In Monons," he whispered softly, laying his chin on Dean's head and pulling him as close into his chest as he could while they still had their seatbelts on. It felt a bit strange to be the one protecting Dean again – he had been the one needing guidance and protection ever since he'd lost his grace, seeing as he was the less experienced of the two at being human – but he slipped back into that old role easily. "It's over now. We've passed through most of the storm. It may still be a little bumpy, but the worst is over, I promise. Just breathe, you're alright."

It took a few minutes, but Dean's breathing finally did start to even out again, though he stayed firmly attached to Cas's chest even when the seatbelt sign had turned off again. He remained stuck on the ex-angel's side like a barnacle even after they'd landed, and Castiel accepted the new human-sized limb he seemed to have grown with only a small sigh.
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It turned out to be lucky they'd planned ahead and called a taxi to take them to their cabin on the beach, because after his near heart-attack on the plane Dean was in no shape to drive with any sense of direction and Castiel was a horrible navigator. The drive there was short, and when they pulled up into the drive at two o'clock (seven p.m. back at the bunker) even Dean smiled at the sight.

The little house was painted a light brown with white trim around the doors and windows. It was set on a raised foundation, and there was a tiny porch with two wicker chairs and a small table sitting on it outside the front window. The green tin roof was gently sloped, creating a nice overhang to protect against the sun and rain while still giving a breathtaking view of the beach just feet away from the driveway, and there were small palm trees and hibiscus bushes lining the front of the cottage with vibrant splashes of color. It was exactly the kind of view they had been hoping for when they'd decided to rent this out-of-the-way place. And even better, there were no docks or other cabins around for miles, meaning they had a fairly large strip of beach all to themselves.

They quickly tipped the driver and made their way up the front steps, each carrying a duffel bag and Cas an additional backpack, and stepped inside to explore their new home for the week. It was very clean and airy inside, with more wicker furniture and lots of beach-themed artwork, especially pictures of the ocean and sailboats. There was a small kitchen attached to the living room, a surprisingly large bathroom with a deep tub and a shower, and a good-sized bedroom with a California king-sized bed and a sliding glass door at the foot of the bed that could be opened up to walk straight out to the beach or curtained off for privacy. It was very simple, but beautiful nonetheless.

"Well, Cas, what do you think?" Dean asked tentatively, noticeably calmer now that he'd had his feet back on solid ground for a while as he waited for the other man's reaction.

"It's wonderful, Dean. I love it already," he answered with a small yawn, now eyeing the enormous, fluffy bed eagerly. Seeing as they'd been up for sixteen hours already today, it was more than tempting. Dean smiled and hugged him from behind, arms wrapped lazily around the dark-haired man's waist as he kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm glad. Sorry I acted like such a baby earlier."

Castiel shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for. Fear isn't something you can control."

"I know, but still…" He stopped mid-sentence, surprised as a yawn caught him off guard. "Hey, uh, what do you say we just hang out here and rest today? I hate to say it, but I could really use a nap before dinner. Lunch? Whatever the hell time it is now. And then we can explore a little tomorrow."

Cas just smiled, flopping face-first onto the pillow nearest to the window with Dean joining him only seconds later.

"I'd love that."