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The Beach: Wednesday Evening

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beach as the first notes of music from Arden’s playlist filled the air. The waves gently lapped at the shore, creating a soothing backdrop to the area. Tiki torches and string lights were set up around the party area, their flickering and colorful light adding to the atmosphere.

The aroma of North Carolina barbecue filled the air, with a long table set up with all the fixings—pulled pork, coleslaw, hush puppies, and more. For those with different tastes, vegetarian and vegan dishes were also thoughtfully provided. Sweet tea was the main beverage, but for those craving something colder, Squishies were lined up next to the drinks cooler. The centerpiece of it all was a giant cupcake that Graham had brought all the way from Daventry for the occasion.

Games were scattered around the beach: volleyball nets, cornhole, frisbees, and even a few board games for those who preferred to sit back and relax. A bonfire crackled nearby, with cozy spots to sit and chat, perfect for those who wanted to enjoy the evening at a slower pace.

It was set up for a perfect evening, filled with good food, great company, and the kind of fun that comes from being surrounded by people. Yes, it was another surprise party, the kind that shouldn’t be a surprise anymore, really. But that’s the point of parties—to celebrate the people you care about. And tonight, it was all about Arden.

[Open to all and any part goers]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“Well, here’s hoping it’s in your wheelhouse,” Dean said, settling back into his chair. He grabbed a beer from the cooler and held it out to Jane with a knowing smirk.

“Or, if you’re really not feeling it, just make every class a field trip to the bar or throw on a movie. Can’t argue with that kind of education.”

"Oh, there's an idea," Jane said, gladly accepting the beer. "Always play Schoolhouse Rock or something."

The political stuff might be useful these days.

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at Jane, clearly digging the idea of School house rock. "Informational and entertaining," he agreed. "Can't get better than that."

It might even take the awkardness level down a few notches.

As long as the other Thor didn't make an appearance, they were golden!

"So long as I won't be expected to do any singing."

"Oh, well, I'm totally down for that class," Dean teased. "I bet you're one of those hidden talent types who refuse to go on stage during karaoke night and then surprise everyone with a performance."

"Or people who sound like alley cats," Jane countered with a laugh.

"I've been to enough roadside bars with horrible local bands to appreciate a good alley cat," Dean chuckled and took a swig of his beer. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone? Other than the moose?"

"Mostly just the moose," Jane replied. Then knocked on the arm if the chair. Just in case. "But it's like that between semesters."

Now she was asking for something to happen then.

Look, that's just the way the island works!

"Well, at least we get to enjoy the quiet, right?" Dean said with a grin. "Oh, and I found something for you."

Dean leaned over and produced a large, dusty leather-bound book he had retrieved from the bunker. He opened it to reveal the title: Interdimensional Pathways: A Study of Wormholes and Dimensional Travel, co-written by Clifford Henshaw and Cuthbert Sinclair.

"Seemed like it might be right up your alley."

Jane oo-ed over it, setting her beer aside to take it. "I've never heard of them before," she said, flipping open a page.

Oh, she was going to end up reading while at a party. You caused this, Dean. This was all on you.

"Yeah, that would be because they weren't exactly authors," Dean said, clearly pleased at Jane's reaction. "They were members of a secret society who studied the paranormal. Oh, and just a safety tip: if you come across any Latin in there, don’t read it out loud."

Just your average safety protocol.

Jane was for sure giving the book a wary look now. "Is the math okay to write down?"

So she could check their work.

"Copying is fine. I've done that all the time for my own journal," Dean assured her. "But saying ritualistic Latin out loud is the only thing you would need to worry about."

"Should we just avoid ritualistic Latin in general?"

No Catholicism here!

"In my line of work I usually find that to be the best way to handle it," Dean said as he finished a beer.

Especially the avoiding Catholicism part. Unless it came to exorcisms.

"What about other languages? Surely some of them must also be just as dangerous," she teased.

"Not unless you can speak Enochian," Deand mused.

And then remembered he was dealing with a genius.

"Do you speak Enochian?"

"...I don't think so?" Jane replied slowly. "But apparently the whole--" She did a hammer kind of gesture. "--deal has something Val called Allspeak?"

Well that would have been a good thing to have for Kevin. Poor guy.

"Yeah, if it's not in English, maybe don't go reading it out loud," Dean said with a slow, knowing nod. "But the math? That should be safe enough."

He hesitated, then leaned in a bit closer, his expression softening just slightly. "Look, I know I kinda took off without giving you a heads-up, and I’m sorry about that. With everything going on, I just... needed to see my brother. Thought it might help, you know? Next time I head out, I promise I’ll let you know first."

No demon summoning here! Hopefully.

Jane leaned over to kiss him for that. "I'd like that," she said. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Dean’s head bobbed side to side in a noncommittal way. "Yeah, I found some of it out there—"

He took her hand, his other hand (still holding the beer bottle) gesturing toward the people at the party. "—but I think I realized most of it was right here. I’m making some changes. Less hunting. More... I don’t know. More of a support role, I guess."

"Nothing wrong with supporting people," Jane said, threading their fingers together. "What's holding you back on it?"

Dean glanced down at their intertwined fingers, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, nothing wrong with it," he echoed, his voice a bit quieter. He paused, searching for the right words, and then sighed softly.

"It’s just... I miss my brother, you know? For fifteen years we were always a team, doing the hunting thing together. When I went and saw him he was with his kid. He looked so happy chasing that boy around. To be honest, it kind of pissed me off. But it made me realize something, it’s like, I go to figure out my own way to be happy." Dean's gaze drifted to the crowd at the party, watching everyone having fun.

"Thing is, I’ve been thinking about Bobby Singer a lot lately. He was kind of my second Dad. Whenever we needed something, he was always there-backing us up, keeping the place running, making sure we were okay. I want to be that guy now. Less chasing monsters, more helping the people who do. Feels like the right move."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, trying to mask the vulnerability that slipped through. "So, yeah. Guess that’s what’s been on my mind. And I think that me being on the road was the only way I thought I could do it."

Jane squeezed back gently, considering everything he said there. "I think that change is scary. Even if it's something you want. Leaving behind something you've known for so long... It's okay to take time to figure it all out."

"For once, I’ve got time and no place I got to be," Dean said, his voice carrying that familiar rough edge. "And honestly? I think what I need… it’s right here."

But since that was teetering on too mushy for his liking, he quickly added, "Or, you know, at your place—'cause I’m pretty sure there was some promise about pie."

The Beach: Wednesday Evening

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