a dean/cas pollfest fic for thisisnteducational
The sleeves of it are still stained and tattered. The lapels, once unmarred and unmarked by grit and neglect, still carry the memory of chaos and catastrophe in its bleak and black colour that overtook the beige. The material, aged and old before its time, hangs limp in the sleeves and at the shoulder, tired and timid in a way it never should be. But it kept. For the better part of a year, it kept in the last quiet places of a troubled life. Despite constant upheaval and loss, Dean kept a trenchcoat safe for the best friend he ever had, and that he would never wear again.Until, of course, he did.
(Source: dirtyovercoats)
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