#Castiel was not a burden but he probably felt like it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shallowseeker · 9 months

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Jack time travel fic idea

Mirroring Dean's speech to Mary in 12x01

DEAN (breathing heavily) Mom. Listen to me. Your name – your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas. MARY: How do you know all that? DEAN: Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that – that you met – MARY: John Winchester. DEAN: August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.

///

Jack to Dean:

I know you don't trust me, but listen. You were born on January 24, 1979 to John and Mary Winchester. You say you're an Aquarius who likes long walks on the beach, but the truth is you really hate sand.

Your dad raised you in The Life, on the road with Sam. When you were 16, you got arrested for stealing and spent time in a boys' home. You loved it there.

You've had a gun in your hands for as long as you can remember, but what you really wanted to be was a fireman, a mechanic, maybe a rock star. Your favorite song is a tie between "Ramble On" and "Traveling Riverside Blues," and you always say that all music made after 1979 sucks. You've seen the "Untouchables" over fifty times and probably "The Lost Boys" even more than that.

You know 101 ways to make mac and cheese, and you don't know it yet, but you make the best Mexican Rotel casserole.

///

Jack to Cas:

I'm Jack Kline. I'm your...your...well. It doesn't matter who I am. Just know that I...I care about you. A lot.

Your name's Castiel. You're old. At least 4.543 billion years old, but you always say being an angel is like being old and young at the same time.

You’ve been a soldier as long as you can remember. Whenever you disagreed with your mission, Heaven tortured you. Gruesomely. You told me once that it felt like how the fish looked when it got blendered in Deuce Bigalow, Male Gigolo.

You know you caused the eruption of Mount Vesuvius and defeated the Romans at The Battle of Cannae. Sometimes, you were summoned to slaughter entire armies. Other times, it was to carry out genocide against all the children of the land.

You were there during the Great Flood, and when Gabriel led the slaughter of the Nephilim and their families. You told me once that you're terrified you've had human allies before. You're scared that you'll forget us, and your life will go back to how it was before, an endless cycle of war and death.

You raised Dean Winchester to Earth on September 18, 2008. That's why you decided to rebel again, maybe even for the last time.

///

Jack to Sam:

Your name's Sam Winchester. You were born cursed. May 2, 1983. Six months later, on November 2, Azazel infected you.

You felt that burden your whole life.

Your dad trained you to be a soldier, but your brother Dean was the one to raise and protect you. You spent most of your life hopping from one hotel to the next. It was crusty and horrible and you never felt like you belonged anywhere.

But you studied hard and got a scholarship to become a lawyer at the Harvard. There, you fell in love with the most beautiful girl, Jessica Moore...but then, Azazel came after her, too.

You'd never admit it to Dean, but after that, "My Heart Will Go On" by Celene Dion got you through some of the worst moments of your life.

You--you were the first one who told me that I could be good.

///

To Bobby:

"You dressed me like you! I like how you-you dresses better than the you that I knew. Not that I knew you. You were dead before I was born."

///

Bobby's face: 🤨

How Bobby dresses Jack:

#jack kline #time travel fic ideas #jack & sam & dean & cas

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norestwithoutlove · 2 years

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our new skin

Something’s wrong with the Empty. Something was wrong when it dragged Castiel into it, when he placed a burden too heavy for Dean to have to hold into the hunter’s chest, and was taken away before he could set it right. But something’s wrong now. Something’s growing more wrong.

Castiel is caught in dreams of every moment of sadness or failure in his long existence, mind coiling most obsessively over every moment he hurt Dean, let Dean down, and it’s the Empty which directs him there. It said it wanted to make him miserable. It’s working.

But something’s gone wrong.

Light rips into it, blinding light, and a scream ripples all around like dark and stormy water. Not a human scream. Not even an angel scream, although these start up as well, as thousands of them are woken in the darkness and the blinding light.

Castiel blinks, afraid. Something terrible must be here, to scare even the Empty.

He isn’t expecting something beautiful.

Scratched skin, freckles peeking through streaks of blood, a palm with a deep cut carved across it which presses to Castiel’s shoulder as a voice shouts Cas, c’mon! but it’s been so long since Castiel’s heard that voice that he thinks this is a dream, another dream, a trick of the Empty because it grew bored of torturing him with regrets, and now wants to torture him with the impossibility of being…

Cas!

He’s dragged by his shoulder toward the light, and when he moves too slowly, the green eyes turn to glare back at him, every fury, and a palm sticky and wet with scarlet grabs his wrist. Another dream, he thinks numbly, and the light swallows him.

But he finds himself on the floor of some empty, cool building, scraps of straw beneath him.

Dean sits him up softly, eyes glassy, the green of them brighter than ever, leaning him up against a wall. But the green eyes are angry, too.

“Why the hell were you so slow, in there?” he asks. “What, you wanted to stay there? You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

It takes a while for him to find his feet. In that Castiel can’t walk, his legs are shaking too much, and they give up trying on the third attempt, slumping him again, down against the wall of the strange building they’re in. Dean’s hands came in anxious support of Castiel’s body at every attempt at a step, and lowered him down when they finally gave up.

Dean’s still hunting, he finds out, even though Castiel’s wish has never been anything less than the hunter safe and happy. He’s told this as he frowns and blinks his confusion over how he was saved, and Dean shares that he’s still in the game, in his own words, and found a witch on one of his cases, and working with him, found a way into the Empty, to Castiel.

Dean brushes dregs of the Empty still clinging to Castiel’s hair and clothing with tentative hands. They both look from Dean’s hands, up into each other’s eyes, at the same moment. Castiel is choked. Dean stares at him, his gaze shining.

“We’ll wait a couple’ minutes,” the hunter exhales slowly, clenching and unclenching his fists. “’Til you think you can walk again.” He shudders out a breath. “Fuck, Cas,” though Castiel isn’t sure what he’s done wrong.

“I think it’s just shock…” Castiel mumbles slowly, apologetic. Using his voice is hard, he’s so unused to it, or he’s spent so much of his time asleep screaming—it feels like coughing out gravel. Dean looks hurt at the sound.

“How—how are you feeling?” Dean asks, voice quiet, as though Castiel is some startled creature who might turn and run at too loud a noise. “Are you okay?”

Castiel thinks he probably feels how Dean felt after those nights he drank too much of his sorrow and found himself floating away, or maybe just sinking down. Added on to that, Castiel’s just been the subject of psychological torment for he-doesn’t-know-how-long. His mind and his body are reeling.

“I’m…” but he can’t finish. Dean looks at him, worried. No, not worried, more than that. Something in him pulses a strange, hard fear.

��I—I thought you’d wanna get out,” he stammers. “I thought the Empty would be—I thought—”

Castiel shakes his head.

“Believe me, Dean, I’m not trying to be ungrateful,” he rasps, and Dean’s hands start shaking. “This is—this is far preferable, to what was happening to me, in there. I thought you were a dream, a trick, at first. More torment.”

Dean shakes his head.

“I’m real, Cas, we’re re—” he cuts off. Instead of continuing, he dabs at something on Castiel’s cheek with the sleeve of his jacket. Now, Castiel’s head is reeling for a whole new reason. He catches a glimpse of blood trickling down Dean’s wrist as he does this, and realises Dean must have used some kind of spell with blood magic to retrieve him.

Out of the Empty, he finds he still has his angelic powers, still has his grace burning bright and electric within him, and he tries to take a hold of Dean’s split palm, which has left smears of blood on Castiel’s wrist and shoulder since grabbing a hold of him, to heal it.

“No, Cas,” Dean frowns, pushing Castiel’s hand away from him in a gentle but certain rejection. Glass lodges itself in Castiel’s throat—Dean doesn’t want to be touched, even to be healed, by Castiel anymore. Not after finding out what it means to Castiel. Everything.

Castiel looks down, burnt with shame. He preferred it in the Empty. He remembers how Dean looked at him when he confessed everything. He remembers the words. Don’t do this, Cas. Dean didn’t want to hear. Knew what was coming, and didn’t want to hear it. And now he knows the feeling that charges each of Castiel’s touches, from his chest to his fingertips, each time he touches Dean to heal him…

“You’re still recovering,” Dean cuts through his thoughts. “Look at you, not even standin’, yet.”

“You barely gave me a chance,” Castiel frowns at him, though they know this isn’t true. Castiel’s legs simply weren’t holding him. Even now, they feel a little shaky.

Dean’s kneeling on the floor in front of him. Castiel is sitting against a wooden wall, and looking about, sees faded symbols he recognises, washed away by the passing of years, perhaps a decade’s work. Protective sigils faded by the tides of those years, floor to arched ceiling, everything the artist could think of, apparently.

Dean pushes Castiel’s chin up, palm beneath his jaw, and looks him over. All of the symbols about are tailored against demons, spirits, not angels. Who did these? When? They can’t have been for the spell—it woundn’t have called for them.

“Fuck, man, it’s really you,” Dean croaks out. Something twists through Castiel at the feeling rinsing Dean’s voice dry as he tries to speak. “Bitchy squint and all.”

Castiel’s confused, and to confused to offer Dean something sarcastic at this comment. Besides, it’s absurdly affectionate; the words are rough with warmth in his throat.

“You were… You seem relieved…”

#destiel #deancas #chapter 2 now up!#writing #Destiel fix it

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astermacguffin · 3 years

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What if the Mark of Cain manifests differently when it's imprisoning God and not the Darkness? If the Darkness makes the Mark bearer go insane with unbridled want for destruction, then what does sealing God make you do?

An obsessive desire for creation? Creation to the point of corruption? (Think of the Shimmer from the film Annihilation. Continuous reproduction to the point of begetting alien, cancer-like entities. A refracted, distorted notion of creation.)

Okay, so canon divergence from The Trap. They successfully seal away Chuck, then Castiel bears the Mark. (Jack won't be back until later episodes, so he's not here yet.)

At first, they think he's fine. Cas says he's not feeling any bloodlust just yet. (He does feel a certain itch under his skin. Not a desire to murder, but a desire to do...something. He doesn't tell this to anyone.)

His grace is getting stronger, almost archangel-like (if not more). It's incredibly helpful for hunts, and Cas is happy to feel his wings healthy again after a long time. Sam is happy for him, but Dean is suspicious of things (especially since he's a previous Mark bearer).

After a while, Cas starts feeling...burdened, almost bloated by grace. (After all, he does have access to an infinite supply of it.) He needs to have an outlet for it.

Cas tells them so and Sam suggests healing people. Dean gives the green light on the condition that he remains invisible and he doesn't go Godstiel on them again.

It's a great outlet, and for the first few weeks they start feeling normal again. But unfortunately, healing stops being enough to relieve Cas of his excess grace anymore. The mass healings start to pile up all across the globe and it catches everyone's attention. Some think it's a blessed miracle, some think it's a sign of the end times. They make him slow down on the healings after that.

Without an outlet, however, Cas starts feeling antsy and pained. They brainstorm on possible alternatives. Cas suggests going to Heaven and saving it from collapse by healing his brethren's wings and creating more angels out of consenting souls in Heaven.

He explains Heaven's endangered and dwindling numbers. Sam agrees that it would hit two birds in one stone: relieve Cas from excess grace and prevent the extinction of angels. Dean doesn't like the idea of more winged dicks so he shoots down the idea. Eileen says that since Cas is the one in pain, he should be the one to decide.

Ultimately, Cas defers to Dean's judgment (as always). Sam protests, arguing that he can't just shoulder that pain. Cas replies: "I've suffered worse, Sam."

Cas doesn't complain about the pain for about a week, so for a while, everyone believes him when he said he can shoulder the pain. One day, Dean finds him outside the bunker, groaning in pain as he bleeds himself out, his grace pouring into the ground and sprouting plants. Dean sees this and is finally convinced to allow Cas to make more angels.

What follows then is a series of escalating events:

While Sam and Eileen are practicing their witchcraft for spell they need in a hunt, Cas suggests to enhance Sam's physical and magical abilities using his grace. "It will make the process faster and safer," he reasons. He agrees, but Dean eyes this suspiciously.

During one of their hunts, they encounter a young and freshly-turned vampire. The boy begs them not to kill him, and Cas gives him a proposal. "Promise not to feed on humans ever again and I shall cure you of your hungers and your pains. Pledge your allegiance to me and you shall never be afraid of yourself ever again." The boy agrees, and before Dean could even protest, Cas slices his palm and feeds the vampire his grace.

They argue about the grace-feeding in the Impala. Dean notices Sam's pointed lack of complaints and figures it out. "You're in on this, aren't you? How long has Cas been doing this? He's going Michael behind our backs and you're letting him?"

Sam argues that it's different because Cas isn't making super monsters; he's making them less "monstrous" (whatever that means). Sam's obsession with his own "purity" is key to understanding him here.

One time, Dean catches Cas in his "garden" ("forest" seems more apt with how lush the greens already are) creating butterflies and bees out of thin air using his grace alone.

Reports of the miraculously healed people suddenly gaining new abilities like increased strength, heightened senses, and prophecy start popping up. Some are experiencing phantom limbs, talking about their sprouting "wings."

Sam is becoming addicted to Cas' grace to the point that he willingly lets himself be hurt in hunts just so Cas can cure him. Dean confronts him about this, but Sam just argues that he's "never felt this pure before." Eileenn shares the same concern as Dean.

Hunts are becoming less frequent the more monsters are being "cleansed" by Cas. The world is becoming disconcertingly quiet.

Cas' "garden" is starting to emit this strange aura. The plants and creatures growing inside it are starting to look more...alien.

One of the original angels goes to Dean and tells him of Heaven's affairs. The Host is stable again, but the angels he created are...not exactly angels. They're graced up and they sustain Heaven, but their true forms are "horrifying and incomprehensible, even to an angel." The angel adds that more than 60% of Earth's creatures have already been touched by Cas' grace.

The final nail in the coffin is when Dean catches Cas in the garden fiddling with his angel blade. It's emitting a strange glow, vibrating a subtle hum and looking as if it's liquid, flowing and distorting here and there.

Dean asks him what he's holding. "Oh, this?" Cas responds. "This is the Last Blade. Last, not in terms of time but in concept, for no other blade shall ever compare to it. The spark of creation. Fiat lux."

Dean's heart sinks. Of course. The First and the Last, Alpha and Omega. "Cas...the Mark, I think i-it's scrambling your brain, man."

"I know," he replies, eyes wet and apologetic. It's a small moment of lucidity amidst weeks and months of...whatever that was.

"Okay, okay, so you're still you, that's... that's good. Okay." Dean doesn't know how to approach this. Give him a fight and he'll know what to do, but this? Watching his best friend, the love of his life, be distorted into something incomprehensible? Yeah, this is totally beyond him.

"You know, I used to hate Chuck," Cas says. "How could the Father of All Creation be this angry, petulant child? But," he continues, "knowing what I know now, it's either regressing into a petty child or being reduced to insanity."

"Cas...what are you talking about, man?"

"No mind should bear this burden, Dean. No matter how infinite they are," he says, voice trembling in exhaustion.

(more below the cut)

He continues. "The awareness of everything is the awareness of nothing at all. Imagine perceiving every possible piece of information about the world all at once. Seeing light in all its forms all at once: ultraviolet, infrared, etc. Sensing all the neutrinos zip by, sensing gravitational waves, sensing the slighest bit of seismic activity."

Dean doesn't know how to respond, so he lets him go on.

"Knowledge can only ever be a slice of the Totality of Truth. Truth is absolute chaos, and Knowledge is the partial ordering of this chaos. One can sanely approach Truth only through organized paritions of Totality. Why do you think Chuck is so obsessed with stories? Stories are linear and finite; they're sensible snippets of the endless sea of possible worlds."

"So, what? Are you trying to—"

"I'm not trying to justify Chuck's actions, Dean," he interrupts. "I just want to contextualize them. Chuck's simplistic and repetitive narratives are what they are: manifestations of a chaotic Totality, gone insane trying to understand itself. Looking for simple things to hold on to."

Cas takes a deep breath. He speaks with a shaky voice. "I'm barely holding myself together, Dean. I can feel the universe beneath my skin."

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, but he does it anyway. "What are you holding on to?"

Cas smiles at that. "You."

They stare at each other for a while, frozen where they stand. Cas, with unrestrained affection in his face. Dean, struck by shock and indecision. It's Cas who first breaks the silence.

"I think we both know what needs to be done, while I'm still lucid enough." Cas slices his palm and lets his blood drip down the soil. He then thrusts the Last Blade into the ground, lifting it when the soil glows.

Dean stared in awe as the ground erupts and a familiar shape rises from the hollow. "Is that.."

"The Ma'Lak box, yes. I also enhanced it with the Blade to be able to house things as powerful as me."

"Cas, wait, maybe we can think of another way to—"

"Dean," he says, calmly. "You know there's no other way. I wouldn't ask this of you if there was."

In any other scenario, Dean would've kept arguing, but even he knows that they're running out of time. Sam's grace addiction is getting worse and all the creatures touched by Cas' grace are slowly mutating into eldritch horrors. Dean offers a shaky nod. "Okay."

Tension visibly releases from Cas' body. "Thank you, Dean." He opens the box and enters it with ease. "When you lock this, bury me with the garden's graced soil. Once I'm under, my influence over the world should dampen."

Dean gives a wordless nod. For a while, they just stared at each other, Cas lying down and Dean trying to memorize every inch of his face while he can.

Cas presses his hand into Dean's left shoulder where his mark used to dwell. "My untainted grace," he whisper gently. "Some of it is still inside you. That's probably why you're not as affected by me."

Dean wants to say, I'll always be affected by you, but he holds himself back.

He takes his hand back, a bloody handprint now on Dean's jacket. "I love you, Dean," he says, breathless.

"Cas..."

"I probably would've built up to that if we had more time but," he makes a surprised laugh, "I am, as you would say, already 'losing my marbles', so."

The air quotes would've been funny and endearing in any other scenario, but it just makes Dean's vision blur up with tears.

"Thank you for everything, Dean. I know we've done nothing but repeatedly hurt each other these past few years, but I don't want to spend a deathless eternity with that as my memory of you. I forgive you, even for the things you haven't forgiven yourself for yet. And I'm sorry for everything, especially for ending things like this."

He should probably wipe away his tears to clear his vision, but Dean can do nothing but stare at Cas in awe, in fear, in grief, in reverence. They're both fully crying now.

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Wait, Cas."

Cas looks at him, waiting.

"Can you...can you say it again?"

He doesn't need to clarify what 'it' means. They both know.

With one last mournful smile, Cas says: "I love you, Dean."

And with that, Dean finally gathers all the strength he needs to shut the lid and lock the box. He stares at it for a while, unblinking. He forgot to ask, Can you hear my prayers down there? But it's too late now to ask.

The box automatically lowers itself into the hole it arose from. Now all that's left to do is to cover it again with soil.

Dean doesn't bother with a shovel. He gently buries the box with his hands deep in the soil, some of it getting trapped under his nails. He continues the mindless task, whispering a tireless series of I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I hope you're okay I'm sorry, over and over between his quiet sobs. Cas is quiet inside the box. No screaming or crying. Dean doesn't know if that's better or worse.

When the final clump of soil is pressed into the mound, he suddenly feels it: a visceral shift that echoes throughout the world. The alien glimmer of the garden dims, and the world corrects its axis. Dean screams his agony into the air.

That's how Sam finds him: sprawled over a mound of soil, crying his heart out. Dean doesn't need to say anything: he knows what happened. He pulls his brother off the ground and brings him inside the bunker.

For the first two weeks, Dean cycles through drinking and passing out in various places in the bunker. If he's not wearing the jacket, he's holding it with close to him. Sam gives him a considerable space to grieve while he monitors the world grace problem with Eileen. The grace mutations have significantly dropped since then and everyone's going back to normal.

Unfortunately, that means monsters are getting hungry again. Sam doesn't want to leave his brother alone after going nonverbal with grief and dysfunctional due to alcohol. Eileen assures him that she can handle hunts on their own and that the hunter network that they're building will lessen the workload.

Sam's attempts to sober Dean up finally work, mostly due to the latter having very little strength to protest. Dean remains sober an entire day for the first time in weeks, and all he can think about is: I haven't prayed to Cas in a while. The longing might have reached him, but never a coherent prayer.

The first time he goes out of the bunker in a while, he heads straight to Cas' garden. Sam's glad that he's finally going out because "the sun is good for you" or something, but he's really only here for Cas. He kneels in front of the burial mound (where a patch of an unknown species of flowers is already growing).

The first prayer he says to him in a while is: I love you, Cas. I should've said it while you were still here. Not saying it out loud and just strongly thinking about the words somehow bolsters him to get the words through.

He's crying again, and he knows he's losing coherency. In his mind, he's explaining about his hangups and his regrets and his continuous denial of his own joy, but one constant remains: he's beaming all his love and affection into this prayer.

He's halfway through explaining all the traits that he finds endearing in Cas when suddenly, he feels it like a snap. If the glimmer dimmed when he buried Cas, now it's as if it was never there in the first place. With an unsettling amount of certainty, Dean just knows that Cas is gone. For real, this time.

"C-cas...?" It's the first thing he's said in a while and it sounds rough in his long unused voice.

"CAS! CAS!!! " He's now screaming, ripping away the flowerbed with his bare hands and scratching the soil away. Tears are obstructing his vision, but he has no time to wipe them away. He needs to make sure that is really gone. His hands are bleeding and he doesn't give a damn.

Eventually, Sam comes running towards him. "Dean! Dean, stop!"

He tries to hold his brother back, but Dean just keeps on clawing away soil. "Sammy, Sammy he's gone, he's not there anymore, Sammy I have to see, please, let me see Cas again, I need—" he breaks into sobs again, and like a puppet with its strings cut off, he slumps into Sam.

"Dean, it's okay, it's okay..." he says softly to his shaking brother.

Eventually, when Dean calms down, he looks at the carnage he's done and starts sobbing again. The flowers, his last evidence of Cas being here, are all destroyed. Now Cas truly is gone.

. . .

When Cas first heard Dean's confession prayer, he was overcome with joy. When he realized what that means, however, his stomach suddenly sinks.

He hears before he sees the Empty arrive, slithering like black goo.

"Wow, were you excited enough for eternal slumber that you wanted a preview?" The Shadow teases in Meg's voice.

At first, he was dreading the Empty, but now that he thinks of it, it's actually the perfect prison for him: a vast, endless nothingness for him to fill with his creations.

And if Jack wasn't in Heaven, that only means that he's in the Empty, and he can't wait to see his son again. Even when blinded by the madness of the universe, he can never forget the joy of being a father.

"Yes," he replies, "I'm actually glad you're here now."

. . .

Somewhere around the globe, Billie drops Jack back.

"Don't worry, kid. You'l reunite with your father very soon."

(to be continued)

#spn #destiel #supernatural #aster writes #destiel fic #long post #im totally obsessed with moc!cas #moc!cas

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arcticfox007 · 3 years

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Suptober Day 1: Harvest

This is my first time doing Suptober and I probably won’t do every day (and am already a day late) but I thought it would be a good creativity boost and looking through all the other work it seemed like a lot of fun! Thanks to @winchester-reload for organizing this :)

Check it out on AO3!

Castiel hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation. He was supposed to be on break, but had volunteered to reset room 5 for the next patient because he knew his friend Alex had been in dire need of a break. Cas was only a volunteer, spending his junior year of college shadowing various medical professionals to get a better idea of what a career in medicine would really be like. When Alex had suggested shadowing one of the doctors she worked with, he’d readily agreed, knowing that his friend spoke highly of both Dr. Barnes and Dr. Fitzgerald.

He’d already spent the past few hours shadowing Dr. Fitzgerald (or Garth as he insisted on being called) and had seen enough to realize that Family Medicine was understaffed and struggling to do the best they could for their patients given the absurd constraints on their time. Garth was currently seeing a patient who didn’t want a stranger in the room, so the doctor had told Cas to grab some lunch. Cas had intended to do just that when he saw Alex making frantic phone calls at the front desk. When she’d hung up, she’d looked at the end of her rope, explaining to Can that one of the other nurses called out and she couldn’t find anyone to cover for them.

Which is how Cas ended up in room 5 wiping down the surfaces and pulling a new paper cover over the bed. Cas knew all about patient privacy, but really, the conversation easily carried into the room when the man who must be one of Dr. Barnes patients had decided to continue talking to her out in the hallway. The man had a compelling voice and by the time Cas realized he was eavesdropping it was too late to avoid it as leaving room 5 now would have only made the unsuspecting patient realize he’d been overheard.

“Um, and, I’m really sorry about this doc, but I probably can’t afford the bill for today’s services right away.”

“Dean, just call Meg like I told you. Our pharmacy here is amazing at finding co-pay cards for these types of medications.”

“I will talk to her, I swear. It’s just when we had to switch insurance plans the new one says the co-pay for that grade of medicine is $100 a dose. I’m honestly not sure I can make that work Dr. Barnes.”

“I understand, but you need this medicine Dean. Your RA will flare right back up without it. If that happens you eventually won’t be able to work at all. Even skipping doses is ill-advised, letting the inflammation persist could eventually cause permanent damage to your joints.”

“I get it doc, I do, but $400 a month? It’s basically choosing between eating and my ability to move without pain.”

“Dean, just talk to Meg. We will figure something out. At least promise me you’ll take the Humira every other week. I know it didn’t manage your symptoms well at the lower dose before, but it was still better than letting the RA go untreated.”

Dean must have responded to Dr. Barnes in some way Castiel couldn’t hear, because after a few moments the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, fading as they moved towards the front desk. Cas hurried out of room 5, the trash bag hanging unnoticed from his wrist. His heartbeat sped up as he worried that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of “Dean” before he left the office. Cas didn’t really know what he was planning on doing, just that he couldn’t stand the thought of this man resigning himself to pain all because the healthcare industry was such an awful mess that it would burden someone with choosing food over medicine. Something about the way Dean had sounded reminded him so much of his sister, Anna, right before she had left Castiel forever. That feeling drew Cas forward to meet a man he didn’t know. Cas couldn’t solve Dean’s money problems, Cas couldn’t force the government to change how healthcare was run in the country, Cas couldn’t even make Dean’s medical issues any better – but he could meet this man and maybe make him smile for a moment. Maybe, if he was brave enough, he could offer him some sort of friendship so maybe he would have one more person to help him through his struggles. Cas had been too young to understand how alone Anna must have felt but he knew more about it now. Helping people like Anna was what had drawn Cas to medicine in the first place.

Turning the corner Cas was startled to see what could only be a 6-foot flannel-wearing freckled god. The man was Hollywood beautiful and for a moment Cas forgot what had brought him rushing around the corner in the first place. The sound of Alex pointedly snapping her fingers brought Castiel back to reality as he broke of his inappropriate staring. He felt his skin heat up rapidly as he blushed.

“Did you finish room 5, Castiel?” Alex stared at him expectantly. Silently, Cas handed over the trash bag and muttered something about taking his lunch break outside. Too embarrassed by his very obvious admiration of the man that must have been Dean, Cas didn’t think he could talk to him in front of Alex. He rushed out the front door in the hopes that the autumn air would help him pull himself together. He didn’t know why he’d felt so compelled to talk to a man who’s private and very personal conversation he’d overheard. He was almost glad that his humiliating gawking had saved him from speaking to the guy. After all, what would he have said anyway? The air alone wasn’t helping Castiel’s composure, so he began pacing in front of the building.

“I mean how do you go up to a stranger and tell them they aren’t alone and that good things do happen? It’s not like it wouldn’t embarrass the guy to know I overheard him talking about his money problems…” Cas froze as he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

“Uh, hey man. I actually came out to ask you something else, but I think this just got awkward.” Cas took a deep breath already knowing it was Dean standing behind him. Cas’ habit of muttering to himself when anxious had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion, but never quite as badly as this felt. Sadly, his fervent wish to turn invisible on the spot was being ignored by the universe and he found himself staring into striking green eyes while wondering how he could possibly salvage this situation.

“H-hello Dean. I’m Castiel, and I can’t apologize enough for overhearing your conversation with Dr. Barnes. I swear it wasn’t intentional, I was cleaning out the room you were standing near and – “

“Whoa, hold up buddy. I’m not mad or anything. I mean, it wouldn’t be my topic of choice to start chatting up the hot new guy at my doctor’s office, but you clearly work in healthcare, I’m sure you’ve heard the same thing from lots of folks.” Cas’ brain froze a bit when Dean referred to him as hot, but then it caught up with what he was actually saying.

“Er, actually I’m just shadowing Dr. Garth for the day, but yes, I have heard stories like yours. My sister, Anna, went through something similar. That’s why I wanted to say something to you but wasn’t sure what. Then I actually saw you and, well, you saw. I’m not really good with subtlety. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” Dean threw his head back with a barking laugh and Cas found himself staring at the beautiful man yet again.

“Having someone like you checking me out definitely doesn’t make me uncomfortable. If it makes you feel better, I came out hoping to ask if you’d be interested in going to the Harvest Festival tonight. I have to work for a bit at my store’s booth but if you were free around 7, I’d love to talk with you more. Even if it’s just whatever you wanted to talk to me about before.” Dean smiled flirtatiously at Cas, and there was no way to resist that.

“Yes, I’d love to! Where should I meet you?”

They exchanged information quickly, and parted ways with matching smiles. Cas would get his chance to tell Dean how his sister gave up her fight with cancer because she knew her treatments were bankrupting the family. He’d tell him how he’d was hoping to be a doctor himself one day to maybe help someone else like Anna win their fight despite the shitty healthcare system. He’d also tell Dean that he’d chased him down the hall because he’d desperately wanted to tell him that maybe they were strangers, but that he hoped Dean didn’t give up and that he’d be willing to be there for him if having a friend would help.

Now though, Cas thought maybe he’d already made Dean’s day a bit brighter, and he looked forward to getting to know the handsome man better. Maybe his impulse to offer his friendship to a stranger wasn’t as insane as it first seemed, and if Castiel was reading things right perhaps friendship wasn’t the only thing they had to offer one another.

#suptober21 #arcticfox007writes #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural fic #yeah I know I barely worked in the prompt #my bad

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orionsangel86 · 3 years

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Thing that has hit me the most with the most recent episode isn't just the confession alone. It's everything. Dean letting out those faint sobs, his head going into his hands. It's fan fiction. I think that's the biggest reason I have not been able to settle my shock just yet. I've read plenty of stories and I've read the codas, and there just isn't that much of a difference to what is really happening now. I'm just - pure shock. It seems like something I would read and not ever get to see.

Yeah you hit the nail on the head nonny.

It was fanfiction right before our eyes. I say that with the utmost respect because fanfiction to me is a sacred and beautiful art and one that should never EVER be mocked. Some of the most beautiful stories I have ever read have been fanfiction and I hope that Bobo Berens takes it as a compliment when I say that what he wrote is the most amazing beautiful piece of fanfiction I never ever would have expected to see on the actual show.

I have lost count of how many times I have read fics where Cas confesses his love and have cried, got emotion, just felt my heart leap into my throat kind of WOW reactions. To see that kind of confession play out on screen in the actual show between the actual Dean and the actual Cas. To see my actual angel Castiel say those words... well, if you have been following my meltdown since Friday you’ll know I’ve basically been unable to focus on anything else, let alone eat, sleep, or go on with my normal life!

Just lets just look at those words again:

“When Jack was dying I made a deal to save him, the price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness the empty would be summoned and it would take me forever. I always wondered ever since I took that burden, that curse I wondered what it could be, what my true happiness could even look like. I ain’t never found an answer, because the one thing I want, its something I know I can't have.

But I think, I think I know now happiness isn't in the having. Its in just being. Its in just saying it. I know... I know how you see yourself Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You’re destructive, you’re angry, and you’re broken. You’re daddys blunt instrument and you think that hate and anger thats what drives you thats who you are.

Its not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad you have done for love. You raise your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are.

You’re the most caring man on Earth, you are the most selfless loving human being I will ever know. You know ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell knowing you has changed me. Because you cared I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me Dean.”

”Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

“Because it is.

I love you.”

My guys this is the kind of fanfiction I would read and then probably be like... hmm... maybe it’s a bit... too... much? Who would have ever thought we would get an actual scene on actual Supernatural where Castiel pours his entire heart out just waxing full on poetic about Dean Winchester? This is amazing in every single way. I just had to rewatch the scene to transcribe the words above and believe me I had to pause several times just to stare into the middle distance to check that reality was still in place because it is HARD to deal with all your fantasies becoming reality all of a sudden. I have watched this confession scene several dozen times now, and every. single. time my brain does this DOES NOT COMPUTE thing where I am basically Dean for a moment just standing in shock unable to process that this is real.

This is real. Holy fucking shit. This is real.

#destiel #destiel is canon #im still in shock #its day 6 #jesus christ help me #castiels confession #asks #Anonymous

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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Since the finale aired, I’ve been yammering on about how it would’ve only worked as a finale to s2, and now that I’m actually rewatching s2, I stand by that even more staunchly. The finale doesn’t work in a post-s2 supernatural universe.

This is the version of Dean we saw in the finale-- the one whose only mission in life was to Save Sammy, to help him get his revenge and allow him to go out and live a Normal Safe Life pretending that hunting and monsters don’t exist. The one who just wanted some pie, to drive his car, and had no real connections beyond Sam in the world outside of Bobby. Even Dean’s characterization in the finale is this far younger Dean who’d never allowed himself to crack open and truly understand love. It would take me years to plow through everything I’ve ever written about him as a character and his long struggle to emotional maturity we saw evolve over the next 13 years beyond this episode, but the tl;dr will always be “this s2 Dean is the same as the Dean in the finale.”

The goal of s2 was saving SAM from his “destiny,” too. In this era of the show, Dean didn’t have a “destiny” the same way Sam did. The ONLY thing that mattered was freeing Sam from “becoming evil,” and being manipulated into terrible things. What Dean wanted, what he was “destined” for by the narrative was irrelevant, because all of his choices and emotional burdens were tied only to saving Sam. To freeing Sam so he could safely return to his “normal life.” Go back to college, have a family and the white picket fence life.

This was before Dean truly began fighting for HIMSELF. Which only really and truly began after he sells his soul to resurrect Sam. That’s when Dean truly begins fighting for himself. Sure, he’s angry with John during s2 for trading his own life for Dean’s, for putting the burden of “if you can’t save Sam, you’ll have to kill him” on his shoulders with his dying breath, but Dean is still fighting against John’s authority and the complicated tangle of feelings of his own childhood and not actually coming to terms with his own wants and needs and wishes out beyond that yet. He’s still unwittingly confronting the “destiny” John had set up for him, and hasn’t moved beyond that yet. It’s only trading his soul for Sam’s that finally brings Dean into the cosmic narrative that will fuel his introspection and personal growth for the rest of the series.

And out beyond that point, his entire character arc explodes into orbit.

Dean’s entire character arc in s3 is confronting this very basic fact: he doesn’t deserve to have been sacrificed just to save Sam. He doesn’t deserve that burden, and he does deserve to live. This is the realization he comes to before eventually being dragged to Hell and then rescued by an angel, who literally tells him, “you don’t think you deserve to be saved” in the aftermath of that. From that point on, we have TWELVE SEASONS of Dean struggling with what he “deserves” versus what is “fate” and “destiny” and eventually confronting what he WANTS if he truly could choose his own destiny.

Plus, out beyond that point, he has Cas. And nothing changes Dean, pushes him to grow and understand himself, and accept himself-- all of himself, from the good to the horrific-- than the pure and unflinching acceptance of Castiel. Cas never looked at him and said “you are evil,” or “you are worthless.” (well, they’ve both said some pretty awful stuff to each other over the years, but there was either brainwashing or other deeper issues pushing those things on them, and they have ALWAYS eventually come back to one another, and the awful stuff was dealt with). Point is, Dean and Cas both began running these parallel arcs of duty versus desire, and for Dean, the duty was always framed around “taking care of Sam” versus pursuing any sort of ambition or goals for himself. They would fight for this for most of the rest of the series, until eventually the goal for ALL of them would be about discovering what they would want for themselves.

The show explicitly dealt with this, repeatedly, over later seasons, asking all of the characters the big questions: is this what you would choose for yourself? What WOULD you choose for yourself if you could?

And then they made the narrative of the final season, of the final Big Bad, the fact that they had NEVER had real freedom, and that their entire lives (and the entire history of not only this universe but every parallel universe) had been Chuck’s Puppet Theater, and true free will had been a lie all this time. Pushing all of the characters to confront their own choices and understand what about who they were as people was separate from what Chuck pushed them into choosing and doing all these years. The main thing that Dean (and also Cas, and to the extent she was included in the narrative this was Eileen’s issue as well) were being pushed to come to terms with what really was real, and were their feelings and choices their own or imposed on them for the furtherance of Chuck’s story.

At the end of the road, finally free and out from under Chuck’s control, they knew what was real. For Sam and Eileen, they had chosen each other. Cas had chosen Dean, but Dean hadn’t yet had a chance to reply, but anyone with two eyes and a brain knows what he would’ve said in return. It’s what Cas stopped him from saying even back in Purgatory in 15.09. And yet, for some reason Sam and Dean forgot all of that, as if none of it had ever even really happened at all, and we went right back to who they were right after they finally defeated the YED, before we even knew Azazel had a name, let alone the fact that the ultimate boogeyman of their entire lives to that point had been nothing more than a fanatic pawn in a much larger destiny for both of them.

The end of s2 was the last time Dean sacrificing himself so Sam could have a normal life, where Dean really felt there was nothing more for himself than fulfilling his father’s orders to save Sammy, even feels remotely plausible. It’s the last time we can feel like Dean might find peace and contentment in a Heaven where John is nearby to be proud of him, and where Dean would actually feel like that validation was even relevant to his own life.

And that finally brings me back to s2, where that was actually addressed through John’s self-sacrifice to save Dean, to serve Dean up to the narrative and provide a stage for this self-transformative journey INTO being a version of John himself. Only... Dean DOESN’T choose that. He fights to save Sam at all costs, even when it seems clear that the right answer would probably be to KILL Sam instead. When not only the ghost of John Winchester plaguing Dean’s mind would make him doubt his own drive to save his brother, but the John Winchester Insert Character of s2-- Gordon Walker-- basically put Dean’s own doubts out there in plain words in 2.10:

GORDON: I'm surprised at you, Dean. Getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let's say you were cruising around in that car of yours and, uh, you had little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was going to turn into someday. You'd take him out, no questions, am I right?

DEAN: That's not Sam.

GORDON: Yes it is. You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's his destiny. Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you. But here's the thing. It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?

This, the episode where Dean finally confesses John’s final orders to Sam, where Dean has decided that saving Sam is all that matters, even when circumstance and everyone else is practically screaming at him that this could all be over if only he gave in-- be it his own self-sacrifice OR killing Sam. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, the universe doesn’t care (and neither does Chuck... especially at this point... and the proof of that is Sam’s s15 nightmares where one of Chuck’s alternate universe endings for Sam and Dean was Sam actually going Darkside on demon blood and killing Dean... any iteration of the old drama, Chuck has explored all potential endings-- oh, except the ending where TFW gets to just be happy and live... that’s the one ending they never get and the only one they deserved in the end).

also from 2.10... loads of chat about “destiny” and one of Dean’s first “we should just lay all this shit down and take a vacation” moments when he suggests they go to Amsterdam and enjoy some of the not-coffee-coffee-shops, which Sam counters by doubling down on the fact that Dean has a destiny in all this as much as Sam does:

SAM: Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do.

DEAN: Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap.

SAM: You mean you don't believe in my destiny.

DEAN: Yeah, whatever.

SAM: Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me.

DEAN: I can try.

And that’s it, right there. This is the “neither of you can try for a normal life outside of the other while the other is still alive.” This is Sam pinning a destiny to Dean that’s just as inescapable within Chuck’s narrative as Sam’s demon blood and psychic powers.

This is the core essence of Chuck’s story about them. The sibling dynamic that Chuck failed to free himself from, and that Sam and Dean failed to free themselves from after Chuck’s demise in 15.19.

Destiny. One must die so the other can live.

And considering the next 13 seasons of the show and the long and emotionally grueling character arcs Sam and Dean proceed through where they truly confront the core of who they are as people-- as individuals outside of their duty and destiny-- the finale ceases to make any sense outside of Chuck’s narrative for them. If 15.20 really happened exactly as we saw it on screen, then Chuck still won.

And they had to loop Sam and Dean all the way back to where they were emotionally at the end of s2 in order to make it seem plausible. Which, for those of us who actually care about what they endured after s2, makes the finale entirely implausible as a whole.

#spn 2.10 #spn 15.20 #spiders georg of the tnt loop #while i was writing this up i also watched 2.11 and yep... still holds up #the ghost of john winchester #chuck's process

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tearsofgrace · 3 years

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broken walls

please read tags !!!!!!

wc: 1.8k, tags: cw suicide attempt (depicted), cw child abuse (mentioned), cw self harm (depicted), coda for 15.18, angst, hurst, love confessions, destiel

also on archive

Dean always knew he’d go out at the edge of a blade or the barrel of a gun. He hadn’t thought he’d get to choose which one.

He was slumped over on the floor in his room. Sam was probably in the library somewhere, and Jack was with him. There was a full bottle of whiskey lying next to him that he’d taken despite Sam’s protests.

When it really came down to it, though, he hadn’t been able to drink. It felt like dishonor on Cas’ memory. To numb the pain that Dean deserved to feel totally and completely for the rest of-

Well, for however much longer he lived.

And he did deserve to feel it. Of course he did. Because he froze. He had stared at Cas, his mind processing his throat dry, words forming in the back of his throat but stopping there. His hands had shook slightly while the rest of him went still.

Cas had left, yet again. And Dean still didn’t stop him.

It wasn’t just for that, though, that he deserved the pain. It was for the years of wasted opportunities. Years of mistreatment, of taking the angel for granted, of stolen glances that never quite made it to words.

He was a goddamn coward.

Cas had been wrong. On most levels, he was still just daddy’s blunt instrument. He was the man that John had groomed, had controlled. He was the man that John had caught, when he wasn’t a man at all. When he was just a boy in high school, trying to figure himself out. When he was with another boy his age, all smiles and laughs that turned into screams of fear and pain. He was the man who had been too afraid of his father to fight back, too desperate for his approval to live his own life, too alone in the world to turn anywhere else.

He deserved to pay for that.

He didn’t deserve to live on when Cas was gone.

Dean let his fingers trail down to the floor where his gun and a large silver knife lay discarded. He’d grabbed them from his dresser with shaking hands before collapsing. And now he sat, the voices of his family in his head.

Jack would say something simple but full of meaning. He would look at Dean with that expression that was so eerily similar to Cas and let Dean speak, choosing instead to listen.

Sam would say that Cas wouldn’t have wanted this. That Cas had sacrificed himself for Dean, and to leave would be to dishonor that. But Sam didn’t know the whole story. He hadn’t seen Cas’ face light up, hadn’t heard those words, hadn’t seen him disappear into blackness, into nothingness. But Sam would still try to talk him down, desperation growing in his voice as he realized he couldn’t.

Dad would laugh. Would say he was a weak fag who was getting worked up over nothing. Would say that giving up was the most selfish and cowardly thing Dean could do. And maybe it was selfish. Maybe it proved how much of a coward he was. He was past caring.

Mom would cry. She’d be tough about it, sure. Probably dredge up some wisdom that would have him pausing for a second, but she would cry in the end. Tears would slide down her face as she looked into Dean’s eyes, pleading even when she knew the pleas fell on deaf ears.

And Cas… well, Dean knew exactly what Cas would say.

He choked back a sob as he looked down at the handprint on his shoulder. He had resisted the urge to fit his hand into it. To let himself feel a little bit of Cas, to know that he wasn’t totally gone. Because that would all be a lie. Cas was gone.

You’ve changed me, Dean.

Dean felt tears prick behind his eyes again, a hot tear tracking its way down his numb face.

I love you.

In a suddenly aggressive move, he reached down for the blade and the gun. He held them, weighing his options, weighing the pain.

“Gun’s cleaner,” he muttered into the empty room.

He cleared his throat, running his thumb over the cool metal and fixing his eyes on the trigger. But he already knew, he’d already decided.

“You don’t deserve cleaner.”

He set the gun carefully next to him, choosing to ignore how badly his hands were shaking. They hadn’t really stopped since Cas had told him. Since Dean had stood there mutely, the words, I love you, too, ringing around in his head with no way out.

He rolled up his sleeves and looked down at his bare arms. Then he squinted up at the light above his head. Somehow, it didn’t seem right to have the lights on. Not for this.

With a grunt, he staggered to his feet and flicked the light switch off. His room now plunged into blackness, he slumped back on the ground, leaning against his bed.

A voice in the back of his mind told him to change his clothes, to go to the bathroom so Sam’s clean up would be easier. But he didn’t listen to it. That voice was just trying to stall. Was trying to stop him from what needed to be done.

Cas’ tear-filled eyes swam in his vision as he lifted the metal to his skin. His hands were more steady now, but there was still a slight quiver that made the silver seem to dance and bend before his eyes. So he squeezed them shut, taking a deep breath and letting it out.

The first cut wasn’t deep. It was the kind he did for spells and sigils, the kind that would heal up immediately if it needed to. He let himself relax for the second cut, let himself welcome the pain that he knew would course through his body.

That one was deeper. It split open the vein, causing blood to spray from his arm, covering his clothes in red. Dean let a small smile curl at the corners of his mouth. The blood didn’t look like his life. It looked like his prison. And it was leaving. So he could be free.

He switched the blade to his wounded arm and gripped it tightly, wincing as the tendons moaned under the fractured skin. Then he slowly dug the knife in, this time taking his time. He could feel his skin being torn apart, and with each new drop of blood that appeared along the cut, he saw Cas.

He saw Cas trapped in a circle of holy fire, trying to explain himself.

He saw Cas drop the angel blade as he stood over Dean, confusion spreading across his face.

He saw Cas’ face fall when Dean said he couldn’t stay.

He saw Cas laying on a bed of straw, a broken and desperate confession on his lips.

He saw Cas dead at his feet.

He saw the euphoria on Cas’ face as he was engulfed by black, finally set free from all the burdens he had carried.

And in it all, Dean saw love. He saw love for Cas, from Cas, surrounding both of them so tightly that they wouldn’t have been able to escape it if they tried. He saw love as his other vein was tapped, the pool of blood in his lap and around him growing.

He let the knife clatter from his hands and leaned his head back against the bed.

Everything was fading, his vision growing blurry. He felt impossibly cold, even as his cheeks grew hot. His breaths were coming a little faster, too, each one racking his lungs and shaking his body.

Then everything started to fade, to narrow, to disappear.

He would be gone. He would get what he deserved. He would be free from this pain, free from the knowledge that Cas had loved him back and they could have had years. They could have been happy.

Castiel was in his mind again. But this time it wasn’t the tear-filled love confession. It was just a serene Cas. The one he so often saw. The contemplative look that Dean loved.

He looked into it, into the peace on Cas’ face, and he let himself slip away.

It went fuzzy for a while. Then he saw bright lights above his head and let his eyes fall open. He was in a hospital bed, tight bandages clinging to his arms.

He winced at the light and hoisted himself up a little to look around.

And he met Sam’s eyes head on.

He cleared his throat and looked away at the TV in the corner. It was playing a rerun of the Friends series finale. It was playing a reunion he could never have.

“Where’s Jack?” he asked, eyes not moving.

“At the bunker.” Sam’s voice was tight, dripping with something Dean couldn’t identify. It was anger, on the surface. But underneath there was panic, fear, confusion, love, pity. It was raw, pure, and not something Dean could face at the moment.

So he just nodded and kept his eyes on the screen. On the happy ending.

“We’ll get Cas back, you know.”

Dean snorted and clenched his fists at his side. They pulled uncomfortably at the bandages and he grit his teeth to stop from saying something.

“How could you-” Sam started, before taking a shaky breath. “What the hell happened, Dean? What aren’t you telling me?” Sam’s words spilled out over each other like they’d been in his mind for a long time. Not like they’d been rehearsed or planned, but like the thoughts had been rolling around for so long that they made it out of his mouth without the proper words attached to them.

Dean finally let his eyes fall from the screen and he looked into his brother’s worried face. Not into his eyes, not yet. Just into his open expression. Into the love that was so free of judgement but so full of pain. Sam had lost people, too. Sam had lost Eileen. But Sam wasn’t weak.

“I didn’t say it back,” he said finally, his voice breaking.

“Say what back?”

He just shook his head sadly and looked down at his lap.

“I can’t do it anymore, Sammy.” He laughed softly, bitterly. “I won’t do it anymore.” And when he spoke again, he looked his little brother straight in the eye and gulped. “I won’t do it without him.”

Sam’s face fell, still riddled with confusion and hurt, but a fraction of understanding starting to dawn. Dean didn’t care, though. None of it mattered. He should have been free. Should have been gone. Still should be.

“Next time,” Dean grit his teeth to stop himself from saying it, to stop himself from hurting his little brother. But he couldn’t stop it. “Next time you won’t be able to save me.”

Sam took a breath and leaned forward, but Dean cut him off.

“Next time I’ll choose the barrel of a gun instead of the edge of a blade.”

tag list :) <3

@fandomstuff67 @menjiiii @castielss @starlightcastiel @chaoticdean @larryforeveralways @dreamnovak @flowersforcas @tlakhtwritesdestiel @wanderingcas @prayedtoyou @good-things-do-happen-dean @jayus-fandom-writer @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @gmotheemo @starrynightdeancas @radiantdean @piemaker-from-gallifrey @on-a-bender @eshaninjer @trasherasswood @dreadful-delight @feraladoration @trenchcas @contemplativepancakes @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @thefourthheadofcerberus @seffersonjtarship @randomblabbling @craftywitchywoman @destielisfuckingcanon @adsp-destielcockles @tehmanda @castielscrookedtrenchcoat @queen-rowenas @expectingtofly @that-one-fandom-chick

#spn 15.18 #spn fanfic #destiel fanfic #cw suicide #cw self harm #angst #hurt #not happy #i mean jk this is totally happy #could i call it a hopeful ending?#probably not #yeah def not...#supernatural fanfic #spn fan fiction #deancas fic #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #my writing

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heller-a-good-time · 3 years

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HERES THE MINI FIX-IT FIC IVE BEEN WRITING ALL WEEK! HAD TO GET IT OUT BEFORE THE FINALE TONIGHT SO ENJOY

This was the tenth night in a row that Dean wandered around the bunker completely wasted. He would stumble into bookshelves and chairs and inevitably, more booze, while his entire world seemed to spin and a goofy smile was plastered on his face. It was the only time he felt like he was able to smile.

Sam would always be asleep, or on a late night date with Eileen. Whenever he came back he’d find Dean in his drunken state and try to encourage him to stop drinking for the night. He would usually fail and then decide to leave him be.

Because he knows.

Dean never took all the times Cas was presumably dead very well. In fact, every time it had happened, it wasn’t pretty. But Dean had never been like this. Seemingly so broken that it was impossible to put the pieces back together again. It was different this time.

Dean couldn’t deal with the world sober anymore. He’d tried.

Everytime he did, he’d hear Cas’s speech ringing in his ears. When he closed his eyes he could still see his angel’s smiling face. After finally confessing his love.

And then the regret would shortly follow.

Because Dean couldn’t help himself but think that Cas was gone because of him. He wanted to go after Billie. He led them into that room with no escape plan. He was Cas’s true happiness.

And then after those thoughts would cement themselves into his brain for the evening, he would get rid of him in the most effective way he knew how. He would drink. He wouldn’t just drink until he was dizzy and euphoric, he would drink until everything went black and he couldn’t feel anything.

Because even through all the clumsiness and the giggling, he could still hear his voice.

I love you.

Just like all the other nights, Dean could still hear him. He reached for a new bottle of scotch off their shelf in the map room before falling into a chair with a glass already in hand.

He poured himself a refill, almost missing the glass completely. His limbs felt like Jello and the room wouldn’t stay still long enough for him to focus. But eventually he got enough whiskey into his glass.

As he took his first sip of his new drink, he made the mistake of letting his eyes wander down. He looked down at the table he was sitting at and he read the name Castiel over and over again.

Carving his name into the table with the rest of his family’s initials was the first thing he did when he returned to the bunker. He refused to let himself relax with a beer in his hand until he completed that task.

Because even while he was fighting Chuck—the person he’d been hellbent on killing for months, he couldn’t stop thinking about Cas.

But now when he looked down and saw his name everytime he sat at this table, it felt like it was mocking him. It just felt like a glaring reminder of who he couldn’t save.

Goodbye, Dean.

Dean took another sip of his whiskey. He could feel his burdening thoughts only getting louder. He hated himself for looking down at this damn table.

He pushed his glass to the side and closed his eyes. He laced his fingers together and propped them up on his elbows. A tear slipped down his face.

His voice was harsh and weak as he babbled into the void for no one to hear, “C-Cas.....Cas please.....I need you.....You’re my best friend......You’re family.” His lip quivered as he started to break down. He knew that wasn’t what he should say to him. But the one thing he wanted to say felt like it was trapped on his tongue. He’d suppressed himself from saying it all these years to the point where he felt like even when Cas wasn’t there and it was now known to Dean that his love was requited, he still couldn’t say it. He could only say everything else that he used as a replacement for that three letter sentence.

By now Dean was crying and covering his eyes with his hands. Little gasps escaped his lips in between his attempt to continue praying to the angel.

“Cas....Cas.....Please......Please come home.” He sobbed. He then got to overwhelmed to keep going.

He desperately reached for his glass and downed the rest of the whiskey. He knew now that he really needed to black out tonight. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to stop crying.

He let his head sink all the way down. His cheek laid against the wood and his arms were sprawled out on either side of him. His tears slowly rolled down his face and left wet spots on the table.

He didn’t even have the strength to get up to refill his glass. He didn’t even have the strength to calm himself down. He had given up on getting himself drunk enough to make him numb. Instead, he was feeling everything a little too intensely.

Probably because he just kept trying to push it down. And now it was starting to rise to the surface and he didn’t know how to cope with it.

He’d stayed in a state of shock for longer than he expected. The crippling sadness had started to settle in the first night while they were researching a plan on how to kill Chuck. But he’d grabbed the alcohol early enough that his emotions couldn’t overpower him in time.

But then it finally hit him the following night.

When him and Sam were supposed to be celebrating, Dean felt like he wanted to throw himself off the top floor of a building. He didn’t let Sam see him break down though. At least, not at first. But after ten straight days of his favorite coping mechanism failing him, Sam witnessed some tears here and there. He’d tried to comfort him. But he knew there was nothing he could really do to fix him.

Dean stayed motionless as he silently cried against the table for he doesn’t know how long. It felt like hours.

The only thing that snapped him out of it was the whooshing sound of wings behind him.

It made Dean let out a loud gasp but he knew he had to be drunk. The alcohol in his veins had to be making him image things.

He felt a hand placed on his left shoulder.

“Dean.”

No. It can’t be.

He lifted his head slowly before looking over his shoulder. When he saw a tan trench coat he immediately stumbled out of his chair before failing to stand on his own and falling to the floor, the chair he was sitting on tipped over in the process.

When Castiel bent down to help him up and his piercing blue eyes stared into his, Dean couldn’t breathe. His mouth just hung open as he looked back at him.

He was here. Standing in front of him. His angel. Without a scratch on him. He still looked as beautiful as he always did. And Dean wanted so hard to not trust it. But every fiber in his being wanted to believe he was really standing in front of him right now.

Cas tried propping Dean against the table but it was no use. Dean was already practically launching himself into him, hugging him. His tears had transitioned from sadness into pure joy. His crying got so intense that he was gasping for air and his vision was too blurry to see.

He hugged Cas as tightly as he possibly could. Almost as if he was terrified he’d disappear again if he didn’t.

At some point he felt Cas hug him back—more gentle considering Dean was practically struggling to breathe.

They stayed in the embrace for several minutes as Dean silently cried into Cas’s shoulder, staining the fabric of his trench coat. All Cas could do was hold him and smile. He’d missed him. They’d missed each other.

Dean turned his head to the side as he had just begun to compose himself, “Cas.....Cas is this really you?”

Now it was the angel starting to get emotional as he answered, “Yes. I promise you, It’s really me.” His voice cracked in a way that Dean had only heard once before as he was saying goodbye to him for what they had thought would be forever.

Dean’s mind was flooded with so many questions that he was too baffled to even speak coherently, “H-How did you.....Why is this...”

Cas finally pulled away from the hug because he wanted to look at him again. When he saw Dean’s tear stained face, his smile grew. He couldn’t believe he was home. He couldn’t believe he had Dean back. He then realized Dean was kept in suspense waiting for his explanation. He cleared his throat and tried to answer him as composed as he could, “The empty.....it’s loud now. All the angels awoke and rivaled against her and eventually got so desperate for sleep....she set us free. I-I woke up in a random field and had been trying to find my way back, and I....I heard your prayers.”

Dean watched a tear actually stream down Cas’s face. It immediately prompted him to pull him into another quick hug. He knew he had to cut it short otherwise Dean would probably never let go of him ever again.

At some point while they were both trying to contain their crying, the realization that Dean had heard the sound of wings, which had almost become unfamiliar to him at this point, made him gasp again like he did when he heard them ten minutes ago, “Wait a second, you have—“

“My wings. They’re back.” Cas continued to flash Dean the widest smile he’d ever seen in his entire life.

He knew how badly Cas had missed them. And hell, he’d earned them.

The two things Cas wanted had been returned to him.

Dean nodded and felt like he could talk to him now without bursting into tears, “That probably has something to do with Jack being the new boss.”

Cas got excited just by the mention of his name, “That was the first thing I heard over angel radio when I returned......You did it. You beat him.” His good mood seemed to be dampened a little as he looked down, “I should have been here to help.”

Dean almost scoffed at his self pity, “Cas....I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you.” He looked over at the table at his empty whiskey glass and suddenly noticed how sober he felt. Dean was just plastered and sobbing his eyes out on the table but when his angel returned to him all of his senses went on high alert. The room wasn’t even spinning anymore.

They both felt air settle in between them after the mentioning of Cas’s sacrifice. Dean couldn’t help but replay the moment in his head over and over like he’d been doing for the last ten days. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he should have told him. He wanted to tell him the three words he’d been dying to say for so long, but he knew if he said them in that moment, Cas only would’ve disappeared faster. So all he could do was stand there, frozen in shock as he realized he was losing the most important person in his life.

Cas sensed the tension that was building due to the silence, “We don’t have to talk about it.” He looked down again, seeming a little sadder than he was before. Clearly he’d never expected to face Dean again after his confession. And now he was terrified of rejection. So he figured it would be best if both of them forgot it happened.

But Dean couldn’t forget. He sighed and took a step closer to Cas, “No, I want to talk about it.” The way Cas looked at him in surprise made Dean’s stomach do flips. He reminded himself he needed to keep going. He kept eye contact with his angel as he spoke, “Cas there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you for a very long time.”

Cas tried to silence him, “Dean it’s okay, you don’t have to say it.” He knew either way whatever he told him would be potentially bad. He feared rejection. But he feared the other possibility even more. He was terrified if he heard those words from the man he loved, he’d feel truly happy again. He was scared of going back. He couldn’t watch himself get dragged away from Dean for a second time.

But Dean didn’t listen, “Actually I do. Because I learned from losing you that I can’t be gutless and in denial anymore. Not with you, at least. Because I didn’t realize how little time left I had to say it. And I’ve blown all my other chances to say it.”

All these years Dean had wanted to. Sometimes he actually convinced himself to do it. But then as the words came out of his mouth, they weren’t what he had in mind. It was always, You’re family or You’re my best friend or I need you or I missed you, buddy. And he felt stupid every single time it happened.

He saw the worried look of Cas’s face and he suddenly realized why he didn’t want to hear it, Dean sighed and took another step closer to him, “Cas, I don’t know if this makes me selfish. But I’m willing to lose you again just so I can finally tell you.”

Cas grew teary eyed again. This was something he’d waited over a decade to hear, “Then say it.”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment as he felt all the walls he’d built up over the years fall. He’d tried so hard to just look at Castiel, the angel, as his best friend. But he couldn’t. He was so much more than that. He always had been.

He opened his eyes again and noticed Cas had taken a step closer to him. They were a mere inch away from each other. He let the angel’s blue eyes pierce into his soul as he stared deep into them, “I love you too.”

The weight of the words immediately came crashing down on him. But he didn’t have enough time to emotionally deal with it because Cas was already kissing him. Desperate and passionate.

Butterflies exploded in Dean’s stomach. He could barely even catch his breath. This was happening. His angel was kissing him.

He wasted no time kissing Cas back, smiling against his lips as he did it. He’d waited so long.

Both of their eyes fell closed as they melted into the kiss. Dean placed his hands against Cas’s cheeks while Cas held onto Dean’s hips. They moved even closer until there was absolutely no space between them. Their lips moved in perfect harmony and it felt as though they were each other’s missing pieces.

Dean’s head was swimming in euphoria and his heart couldn’t stop racing. He’d kissed plenty of people in his life. More than plenty. But he’d never been kissed like this. So lovingly.

And now that he knew what it felt like, he never wanted anything but this ever again. Kissing the person he loved was way better than he ever would have imagined.

Cas completely caught him off guard when he pushed Dean down onto the table, finally causing them to break away from the kiss. He landed on his back as his eyes widened at the angel who was currently in the process of climbing on top of him. His knees were planted on either side of Dean’s hips and Dean laid in between them.

Dean assumed Cas would lean back into him and reconnect their lips, but instead he let his hands travel up Dean’s chest before finding his shoulders and grasping at the material of his flannel. For the next thirty seconds they worked together clumsily shrugging it off of him.

As Cas took the now discarded flannel from Dean’s hands to toss it aside, his eyes landed on something on the table.

And within a few seconds, Castiel was close to tears again.

This prompted Dean to sit up and look at Cas slightly confused but nonetheless concerned, “What’s wrong?”

Dean proceeded to follow his gaze when he didn’t respond. And he realized Cas was looking at his own name carved into the table.

Dean stared at the name for awhile before giving a sad smile and eventually saying something, “It just didn’t feel right not being there.” His voice came out soft.

Cas blinked away his tears and nodded. He then did lean into Dean that time and give him peck on the lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

(This will probably be up on AO3 too when I get a sec)

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lorewhoresam · 3 years

Text

They Didn’t Even Have To Plot

AO3

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: Fluff

Summary: Castiel becomes human after losing his grace on a hunt. Charlie comes to visit, and gets Sam to make Dean talk about his feelings. It was easier than either of them expected.

Something I wrote for a fic exchange a while back, hope ya like it guys

-----------------

Castiel should have known better.

He should have known a witch powerful enough to capture the Winchesters wasn’t actually interested in money. He should have known it was a trap.

No one that smart ever wanted money.

She knew he was an angel. She knew to pray when they asked him for the ransom.

When he arrived at the place the witch had ordered him to drop off the money, a flash of bright, white light blurred his vision before it went black.

Castiel struggled against the bindings on his wrists, ankles and neck, but found himself stuck, the cold metal digging into his skin. He can’t break free using his grace, so they must have been warded against angels.

“Witch! Let me go, I have your money!”

“My dear Castiel, did you really think I wanted money? I want your power. Your grace.”

She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, and Castiel couldn’t help but be taken aback by it.

“Where’s Dean?” he hissed, glaring at her.

A smug smile spread across the witch’s face.

“Sounds like I got the right bait. So what’s going to happen now, is you’re going to give me your grace, or I will rip your little pets apart, piece by piece.”

Castiel knew what he had to do. It's not like he had a choice, Dean and Sam would both die if he didn’t do this. Besides, it’s not like he hadn’t been human before, and it hadn’t been that disastrous, even without any guidance. At least this time he would have a home.

“Get these off me. And give me my angel blade back.”

“So you’ll do it.”

“Of course.”

A few hours later, he was back at the bunker, Dean and Sam with him, alive and well, but without his grace, and without his angel blade.

“Cas, you okay? You seem a little out of it.”

Dean sat down next to Cas on the couch and looked at him, obviously concerned.

“Yes Dean, I’m fine, don’t worry,” Cas said, looking down to avoid Dean’s gaze. “Bullshit, but I’ll take it for now.”

Castiel knew he should have told him that he lost his grace, but he just couldn’t. He didn’t want to be a burden, and he knew Dean would blame himself, even though Castiel made that choice himself.

He’s exhausted, and although he has been human before, he’s still not used to it. falling asleep is easier than he remembered, but maybe that’s just because he has a home now.

Waking up is harder than it was before. Castiel fades in and out of consciousness, and he can’t force himself to stay awake for more than a few seconds at a time. Suddenly he feels a hand on his cheek, rough and calloused, but warm. He hears someone murmur words in his ear, but he can’t understand them, and he’s abruptly aware that he’s being held, and he panics for a moment, before the steady rise and fall of his chest let’s him know that whoever it is isn’t restraining him. He turns his head against the chest and drifts back off to sleep.

When Castiel wakes up, he feels the body under him shift.

“Hey sunshine, good nap?”

Castiel grumbled in answer and sat upright, stretching his body.

“Now, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

“I lost my grace.”

Dean’s eyes widened in concern, and he gently put a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“What happened?”

And he told him. And he could see the guilt form itself in his eyes.

“Dean, it’s not your fault. I made that choice. I was the one who did not realise there was something wrong.”

“I know Cas. I just– Fuck!”

Dean punched the side of the couch and jerked Cas towards him, holding him close.

“If you need anything, you can come to me. You know that right?” Dean said, without letting Cas go.

Instead of answering Castiel just pressed himself closer to Dean’s chest and let himself cry. He had considered becoming human before, but he wanted to choose that fate, and do it on his own terms, and now that choice has been taken away, and he didn’t know what to do. He was lost.

----------------- Castiel hid in his bedroom the few days after the incident, only coming out to go to the bathroom or to eat. It was very frustrating, hunger and exhaustion, and it didn’t help that he was constantly fearing the moment the Winchesters would decide that he was never going to be useful again, and kick him out.

His thoughts were interrupted at once by a loud knock on the door.

“Cas, can I come in?”

Castiel got up from his bed to open the door for Dean.

“Hello Dean.”

They both sat down on the bed, and Castiel looked at him expectantly.

“Alright, so Charlie’s here, and we’re going shopping, because you need clothes.”

“Dean, I have clothes.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, mine. Not that I mind, but it would be nice for you to have your own. And you need to get out of here for a while. See some actual light.”

Castiel sighed, and agreed reluctantly, if that is what it takes for him to stay even a few days longer, he’d do it.

-----------------

It was actually quite nice, browsing through clothing racks, chatting about nothing in particular with people he loved. After a few hours, they decided to go to a diner— mainly because Dean wouldn’t stop whining about how hungry he was.

“So how are you doing Cas?” Charlie looked at him worried.

“I’m fine.”

“Cas,” Dean said sharply.

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine, I just… I don’t want to be a burden.”

Dean looked at him in disbelief before hugging him.

“You’ll never be a burden,” he whispered, and pressed a soft kiss to his temple before releasing him.

“You two are so disgustingly cute together,” Charlie said while making fake gag sounds.

Dean and Castiel both flushed and stumbled over their words trying to clarify that they were not, in fact, together. Charlie just raised her eyebrows and smiled knowingly.

-----------------

“So, Sam, what’s going on between those two?”

Charlie sits down on top of the map table where Sam is reading a lore book.

“You know perfectly well what’s going on Charlie. They may be too stupid to see it but you definitely aren’t.”

She rolls her eyes and claps his book close.

“We should do something about it.”

“What do you mean?”

Sam would complain that he was reading that, but this was definitely more interesting.

“Oh you know perfectly well what I mean Sam,” Charlie mocked him, a mischievous grin appearing on her face.

-----------------

“Cas.”

“Yes Dean?”

Dean looked at him worried.

“Come tell me if you need anything at all. You’re not a burden.”

“Dean, I know that without my powers I am useless to you. You don’t need to pretend I’m not for my comfort.”

“Fuck Cas! It’s not about whether you’re useful to us or not, you’re family! We love you!”

Castiel stood there, paralised, when he felt a tear roll down his cheek, and suddenly he was sobbing uncontrollably. He felt himself be enveloped in warm arms and pressed against his chest, but it was as if it was happening to someone else, like he was just a spectator to the scene. He only realised his breathing had sped up when he heard Dean tell him to stay calm and take deep breaths.

“Hey buddy, I’m here, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

Dean rubbed soothing circles on Cas’ back until he had calmed down.

“I think I just had a panic attack,” Cas said matter-of-factly. “Thank you Dean.”

“Do you want to go get some air?”

Dean stood up and reached a hand out to Castiel.

“Yes, that would be nice.”

He took the hand and stood up as well. To his surprise, Dean didn’t let it go and they walked handed-in-hand into the cool autumn air.

“Maybe we should plant a garden here. What do you think Cas?”

“That would be nice.” Does he know he’s still holding my hand?

“We could put a bench over there.” Does he mind that I’m still holding his hand?

“Hmm.” Does he mind?

“Are you okay, Cas? You look a little pale.” Am I making him uncomfortable?

“I’m fine, Dean.”

Dean gave his hand a light squeeze.

“You’ll tell me if you’re not, right?”

Cas gave him a short nod in response.

-----------------

Sam leaned against the door frame of Dean’s room.

“Hey Dean, how’s it going with Cas?”

“He’s not doing so well, but better than a few days ago.”

“At least he’s getting better. And how are you holding up?”

“Me? You know me Sammy, I’m always fine.”

“Yeah, but this stuff with Cas, it’s got to be taking its toll on you too.”

“I mean yeah, but not any more than on you.”

“Dean. The way I feel about Cas is very different from the way you feel about him and we both know it.”

Dean reddened at his ears and stared at the ground.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he murmured, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother expectantly.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right. But he’ll never feel the same way, so it’s no use admitting it.”

“Dude. You were holding hands an hour ago. And yes, me and Charlie both saw that.”

“Look, I don’t– I don’t think he gets the meaning of that. It’s probably normal for angels!”

“Dude, he literally has every single piece of media Metatron ever consumed in his head, I’m pretty sure he knows what it means. Just please, talk to him.”

-----------------

A few days later Castiel is obviously less miserable than he was before, and he’s gotten used to being human again.

“Hey Cas, do you want to watch a movie?” Dean yelled from the kitchen, where he was making popcorn.

Cas had agreed, naturally, and so it happened they were on the couch together, a bowl of popcorn and a healthy amount of distance between them, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly playing on the television.

They were about twenty minutes in when Castiel began to complain.

“Dean you’ve made me watch this movie five times already, how are you not sick of it yet?”

“Dude, you can’t get sick of Clint Eastwood, it’s just not possible.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and grabbed another handful of popcorn. Dean cleared his throat and turned around to face him.

“Uh Cas?”

“Yes Dean?”

“I uh– Sam said– I need to tell you something.”

Cas turned off the tv and turned to him, worried.

“Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no, not– not really. I uh, I just need to get this off my chest.”

Castiel nodded for Dean to continue.

“I uh, I think I–” Dean shook his head firmly. “No, I know I’m uh, I’m in love with you.”

It stayed silent for a while, the air thick with tension.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“If I still had my grace the lamps would be shattered.”

“Cas!”

Castiel gently cupped his face with one hand.

“I love you Dean.”

He moved forward and pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. A warmth spread throughout his body, and he smiled into the kiss.

“I guess good things do happen,” Dean whispered softly, before leaning forward to kiss him again.

“I guess they do,” Cas said after they pulled apart, and he put his head on Dean’s shoulder, smiling in satisfaction.

#I'm sorry this is so cheesy #my writing #destiel fic #deancas #charlie bradbury #creative writing

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cluz1babe · 2 years

Text

*** STSF *** Ep4 CH1.5

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST

Why was this man seemingly sweeping her off her feet right in front of him? Why hadn’t he acted on his feelings sooner? He only had himself to blame.

After dancing, Meo brought Y/N to her motel room. She started sleeping away from the guys after they moved her room, as she realized helped prevent any outbursts toward outsiders, or those who were outsiders to her, anyway.

Romeo and Y/N smoked a joint together and talked about what they’d been doing the past 13 years. Romeo kissed her, but she gently nudged him back before it could turn into more. She told Romeo about Cas and what had happened in the past month. He told her angels aren’t known for their ability to fall in love, but he had heard stories about Castiel being different. And how everyone seemed to think he was in love with one of his human companions. This crushed Y/N, but she also thought the same thing, so she wasn’t surprised.

Then Méo tried to cheer her up. He told her about his reason for finding her. He had heard rumors about Atlantis and needed to know if she wanted to go with him. “I found it.” He said, excitedly.

“You found it? You’ve seen it with your own eyes?”

“No. I need you in order to get there.”

Y/N shook her head. “Méo, no.”

“We read every book about it. Studied every map and as much mythology as possible. Now you’re saying ‘no’?”

“That was years ago!”

“What’s changed? El ángel?”

“Everything has changed.”

Disappointed, Romeo frowned before realizing the real problem. “Tú enamoraste.” (“You fell in love.”)

“That’s none of your concern. It never was before.” Y/N huffed. “For once in my life, I have a family. You want me to leave them based on a hunch? I can’t just leave my friends. I made a commitment to God to help him with his angel problem.”

“You left me. I was your family once.”

“You were.”

“I thought you would want to go. We always said we would go together.”

Y/N stepped away from him. “That was some teenage run away fantasy! You treated me like a burden for weeks before I left and now you show up, after not seeing each other for 13 years, and expect me to drop everything and run away with you? Does that sound normal?”

“Fuck normal. You ran away! Without saying anything, you secretly packed your bags, and snuck off.”

“It wasn’t a secret. Maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted, you would have noticed.” She remembered him fooling around with a waiter they met one night in Ponca City. It had felt like her heart was ripped out.

When she left the room, Cas was standing outside the door. She didn’t know or care if he heard anything because she was so furious.

https://i.imgur.com/Reyi8uF.png

The next few days were long. They were hunting someone who took people and sewed their eyes and mouths shut, turning them into monsters. They found him and killed him.

Once home again, Castiel tugged Y/N away from the library and Romeo for a moment. Things were still tense between them, but they weren’t fighting. Cas knew if he didn’t say anything, he would probably lose her - most likely to Romeo, who was joining them at the bunker.

When he had her alone, he admitted to eavesdropping a little. “I heard you and Romeo fighting. Do you want to talk about it?”

“He wants me to join him on a wild goose chase that started fifteen years ago.”

“Oh…” There was a long silence during which Castiel felt the pang of her possibly leaving and tried to think of something he could say to make her stay.

“He’s upset that I won’t run off with him when I have more important things to do.”

“You do pretty crazy things for the people you love. I know I have.”

“Your brothers and sisters?”

“And Dean… Sam… But as I understand it, that’s par for the course.”

“I don’t know if I ever loved him. He’s wild and not afraid to be who he is, or with whoever he wants to be with.“

Cas didn’t really know where to begin, so he started with telling her about when he told Dean he loved him.

“I didn’t realize you were gay.” Y/N tilted her head. “I mean, I did think maybe you were, but—“

“I’m not.”

“Bisexual?”

He shook his head. “I don’t consider myself any orientation.”

“You’re a man, right? Everyone refers to you as ‘he’. I’m sorry if that’s too personal. I have a problem with wanting to label things, but I think that’s just some form of OCD. I’m just confused and I’d like to use the correct pronouns.” She rambled. “And stuff.”

Cas smiled, “I’m not a man. I’m an angel. We don’t have gender. Technically, I’m a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“I just happen to be in this vessel.”

“I didn’t mean to assume. I’ll try to refer to you as ‘they’, if you prefer, but please don’t get mad if I screw up. I like to think I’m open-minded, but language can be so difficult to change.”

“I’m not bothered by being called a man, and I’m okay with people thinking I’m homosexual. When Chuck brought me back the first time, he only brought me back in this body.”

“Oh, your…vessel?”

He nodded. “I can remove my grace, but that would make me either sick or human. Once, I was able to go to the Empty, but only for a short time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“Seems cruel to be brought back, but trapped in a body, when you used to be so free. I saw only a glimpse of your true form, but I imagine this pales in comparison.”

“Not at all. Without this body I wouldn’t have had so many life-changing experiences.”

“So do you now think of it as your body?”

“Yes and no. I am in a male body and have no desire to change, but I’m still an angel. We have no need to reproduce, and therefore we don’t have sex. Although, as a human, I did.” He looked around the room anxiously. Why did he just admit that? “Have sex.” He cleared his throat nervously. “Other than that, Jimmy has been in Heaven for years now. Once he left, and I was brought back, it felt less foreign to me. I began to understand human emotions. I started to feel some of them. Then I was made human, and felt all of them. Often too many at once.”

“Sounds like an authentic human experience.”

“It certainly made me appreciate the human condition a lot more. Strangely, even after I became an angel again, I still had lots of feelings. The strongest one is love.”

“Sounds about right.”

“You know, the Empty did eventually take me. Just like the first time, Jack brought me back. … Before it took me, I made the most important confession.”

“What was it?” She asked.

“I told Dean that I loved him.”

“When you told him? That’s sweet. I thought you two were together, but Sam said you weren’t.”

“Well,” he shifted. “We weren’t together. I knew he could never feel that way about me, but I felt the need to tell him. I still can’t believe I said it. Anyway, back to the previous discussion. I have very strong sexual desires for women, and though I have the same desires for some men, it’s not nearly as often.”

“I’m pansexual. I don’t pay that much attention to the parts, as far as ‘am I attracted to this person’? If I’m attracted to someone, what’s between their legs can be a surprise once we get into the bedroom, and I don’t mind.”

“What I wanted to say is, you remind me of how I felt for Dean back then.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

She sat down on her bed. “I didn’t mean to get in the way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe you should tell him again. If you really love him, you should let him know. Maybe he does feel something. Stranger things have happened.”

“Y/N.” Castiel sat next to her.

“Hmm?”

“I’m not in love with him anymore.”

“Oh... I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I can’t help it. I feel bad.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest. “The way you talked, made it sound like you were nicely telling me to back off of him. I’ve been off for weeks.

“Oh, there’s no reason to feel bad. I found someone else.”

“Don’t settle for anyone, Cas. It’s not worth it.”

“Actually,” he placed his hands over hers. “I don’t think I could live without this person. With Dean, I was capable of functioning without him, even if I didn’t want to. But this person is different. It’s like my grace is pulled to them.”

Smiled, brightly. “What’s their name?”

“Kleena.”

“C’mon. You’re impossible to read most of the time. I’ll never just guess.”

“It’s you, Y/N.” He moved closer, “I’m in love with you.”

Y/N spent a long time looking around and at the ground. Confused and overwhelmed.

“I’d really appreciate it if I knew how you felt.”

“I don’t know. No one’s ever said that to me.”

“No one?”

Y/N slowly shook her head. Castiel moved closer and she looked up into his eyes. ‘Yes, they’re Egyptian Blue,’ she thought.

“Well, I actually meant I’d really like to know how you feel about me.”

“I have strong feelings.”

Castiel started to let go of her and back up.

“I... It’s not that I don’t know how I feel, but putting it into words has never been something I’m good at.” She held on to his hands. They felt so strong and safe and soft. “I guess what I mean to say is, I’m deficient in that area, or something.”

Castiel’s face was sort of scowling, trying to understand what she meant.

“It’s hard for me to say it. Those words. It’s been a long time since I let anyone get that close. Since I felt safe enough to say those words.” She realized she was starting to ramble again, but didn’t know how to stop. Cas thought is was cute when she rambled. “And this is really not what I expected. I thought if I tried to make you happy, it would make me happy, and maybe I would stop feeling this way. That’s all I was trying to do—“

“Can I kiss you?”

“Well, as long as there’s no one else I there, or someone who would be upset with me doing things to a body which used to be theirs…”

“No, I really don’t think Jimmy is worried about this body.”

“Okay, because... I really want to kiss you.”

Castiel leaned down and held her close as his lips gently touch hers. She hadn’t allowed herself to daydream or fantasize any more about Castiel because it had felt like such a violation. However, now she was completely melting into this kiss like it was giving her life. She pressed her tongue forward and when his mouth opened, she explored. Why did he taste minty fresh if he never brushed his teeth? ‘Oh, Angel, that’s probably why.’

He was so lost in the kiss, he didn’t realize Sam, Dean, Jack, Romeo, and Brynn were all now in the room watching.

When he opened his eyes and saw them, he began to straighten his back in an attempt to gently break the kiss, but Y/N followed him up, standing on her toes. Castiel finally broke the kiss.

“Y/N, we’re not alone anymore.”

Y/N whipped around, saw everyone smiling, and turned beet red. Romeo started slow-clapping and she gave him a ‘you better stop right now’ look at made him do exactly that.

“You want pie? Unless you’re already having dessert, that is.”

“Maybe later.”

“All right everyone. Preview’s over. The main event is for them, only.”

Everyone filed out and Romeo smiled back at Y/N & Castiel as he closed the door.

“I guess we should... You know, go.” Why was she suddenly so timid? He hadn’t seen her act like this the entire time he’d known her.

“In a minute, like you said.” He pulled her close again and kissed her more passionately this time.

“Y/N, you don’t have to say anything unless you’re ready and want to.”

“Thank you, Cas. That means a lot to me.” She pulled him down and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her snug against his body. Her hands hooked under his arms and grabbed his shoulders. The kiss suddenly broke and they smiled at each other. Y/N’s arms dropped and Castiel wrapped his hand around one of them and tugged her toward his room.

“Where are you taking me?” She giggled playfully.

“Let’s try something.”

Y/N tilted her head, lifted a brow, and chuckled at Cas. She thought he meant to try something naughty.

#spn #castiel #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel x reader #strong tongue and slender fingers #reader #fanfic #sam winchester #spn fanfiction

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deansmom · 3 years

Text

ao3

Castiel sighs, turning to look at Dean.

“The price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned, and - it would take me forever.”

Dean resists the urge to physically react, stunned both by Cas’ admission and how much it feels like a gut punch.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

He barely hears Billie banging on the door over the rush of blood in his ears.

Castiel is smiling at him the same way he did that morning in purgatory before they left. That same sad but resolute smile, and it makes Dean’s stomach turn.

“I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered -“ Cas takes a sharp breath, more than just tearing up now. “What it could be, what my true happiness could even look like.”

Dean’s heart drops into his chest, feeling his own eyes well up with tears.

“I never found an answer because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat and he feels his hands start shaking, his heart beating impossibly fast.

Castiel gives him that same smile again, and Dean wants to throw up.

“But I think I know now, happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in the being. It’s in just saying it.”

Dean wants to laugh at the absurdity of this all. Now? Right now, right before he’s going to do what Dean thinks he’s going to do? Now he can say it?

He breathes in and it’s sharper than he wanted. He’s trying to stay calm, to listen, because he doesn’t want to miss a word Castiel is saying.

“What are you talking about man?”

“I know how you see yourself, Dean.”

Dean almost flinches, but catches himself. The roaring in his ears is back and he suddenly can’t breathe.

Castiel keeps talking, and Dean can tell it’s taking all of his self control not to reach out and grab Dean.

“You see yourself the same way our enemies sees you. You’re destructive, you’re angry and you’re broken and you’re Daddy’s blunt instrument.”

His stomach lurches at the thought of that, at the thought of his father and someone... not thinking that.

“You think that hate and anger, that’s what drives you, that’s what you are.” Castiel smiles at him, his eyes staring into Dean’s soul, “It’s not.”

Dean feels like he got the wind knocked out of him.

Castiel flexes his hands absently, looking for something to grab, to hold onto in this moment.

“And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.”

Dean bites back a bitter, angry laugh. He can’t help but see all the people who’ve died for him, by him and because of him.

Castiel breathes in again, trying to control his crying. He needs Dean to know this. “You raised your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love, that is who you are.”

It takes everything Dean has in him to not tell Cas to shut the fuck up. He doesn’t deserve that, he doesn’t want to hear that - especially when he thinks that this is going somewhere different.

Castiel looks at him like he knows exactly what Dean is thinking and - he probably does. It makes Dean’s chest ache with grief he hasn’t felt yet.

“You’re the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless loving human being I will ever know. You know ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell... knowing you has changed me.”

Dean wants to tell Cas how much knowing him has changed Dean. He wants to tell Castiel that he’s given Dean a purpose for all these years, someone to fight to come home to. He wants to tell him that he’s a better person for knowing Cas, for loving him, even though he was always too scared to say it.

He takes a sharp breath, fighting his brain to get those words - any words - to come out of his mouth.

Castiel is crying more now, and Dean wants nothing more than to wipe those tears away.

“Because you cared, I cared.”

Dean nods absently, his brain still trying to process everything.

Castiel looks a little frantic, the outside noises getting louder. “I cared about you...” The way he looks at Dean when he says it makes his heart skip a beat. “And I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack - I cared about the whole world because of you.”

He wants to tell Cas that he had nothing to do with that. He wants to tell him that he’s never met anyone or anything who has so much heart, who cares so deeply, and that he was always that way. It’s one of the things that made Dean fall in love with him.

Instead, he just stares back at Castiel, hoping he knows everything that’s going on in Dean’s head.

Castiel smiles again, and Dean feels like he’s been gutted.

“You changed me Dean.”

Dean swallows, trying to compose himself, “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Castiel let’s out a breath, sounding as broken as Dean feels. “Because it is.”

He doesn’t have to be an Angel to know what Cas is thinking. He shakes his head, unable to stop himself.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Dean had always figured that it would be him doing the stupid thing and sacrificing himself to save Cas. He rarely let himself think about it, about saying those words to Cas, but when he did, it was always him. It was always Dean finding the courage in the last moments before the end. It was always him choking out ‘I love you.’ It was always supposed to be him.

The way he says it knocks Dean on his ass.

“I love you.”

He says it like it’s so easy, like it’s the thousandth time he’s said it. He says it like it’s something they say. Like it’s something they acknowledge, like they’re two normal people who get to have that, who get to be happy.

Dean chokes back something, he’s not sure if it’s a sob or a laugh. A laugh that his life is like this, and that he had the nerve to maybe hope for something else.

“Don’t do this, Cas.”

Don’t leave me. Don’t tell me that. I don’t deserve that. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be better.

He turns to look as the portal opens behind him, and he’s filled with the overwhelming urge to grab Cas.

Billie kicks the door open and Dean feels like he’s watching this all happen from a million miles away.

“Cas-“

Castiel smiles, content with his realization. Knowing that Dean will be safe.

He puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder, right where he’d pulled him out of hell all those years ago.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

The shove brings Dean back down to earth, and he feels helpless as he watches Cas smile one more time. A final goodbye.

The Empty swallows Cas and Billie whole, and Dean can’t do anything except hold his breath.

When the portal closes it takes a minute for the energy in the air to settle again. The reality of what just happened starts to creep up on Dean. His hands are shaking, his chest is tight and it feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Before he can spiral too far, his phone rings. He watches Sam’s name flash on the screen.

He ignores the call just as every wall he’s ever put up finally gives out. He tries to take one breath and it turns into a sob, the emotions overtaking him.

Cas is gone.

#spn spoilers //#deancas for ts #deancas text #deancas #mackenzie attempts fics #personal #otp: cursed or not #hey look I wrote something for the first time in like three years lmao #text post tag

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wizardofrozz · 3 years

Text

Prompt 5: Hell

Sam Winchester, Crowley, implied Dean Winchester x Castiel

Word Count: 2,082

Warnings: swearing, violence, grief, blood

Dean threw the church doors open, and his only thought was to find Sam. He did a double-take when his eyes caught Crowley in the fetal position on the floor, but he shook it away. He sprinted across the room, searching like a mad man through the discarded pews and destroyed confessionals for any sign of his baby brother.

“Sam!” Dean screamed, throwing chunks of wood haphazardly. “No, no, no….” Blinding panic roared in his veins, his hands shaking so bad he couldn’t properly grab at anything. “Sammy!” Dean paced back and forth, kicking at stray pieces of debris, his hand moving to tug on his hair as tears welled in his eyes. “SAM!”

The decision to slam the gates of Hell had been an easy one for the younger Winchester; he didn’t care what it cost him if it meant millions of people would be safe. Just before finishing the final trial, Sam could feel it; he could feel the trials killing him, but he didn’t care. He found peace in knowing his soul would find happiness in Heaven, and one day his brother would join him. The final words rang out, loud and strong after Crowley’s last injection; Sam dropped to his knees, smiling at the ceiling despite the cell-deep agony tearing through him.

The first thing his brain recognized was the sweltering heat that seeped in the marrow of his bones. The agonizing wails were the next thing to register; the sound resonated in his head, making him coil in on himself, but his arms didn’t move. Sam tugged, but something was holding his wrists and ankles down, and that’s when the fear set in.

“Well, well, well,” a throaty voice sang. “Someone’s coming around.” Sam’s eyes shot open, snapping around the dim room; his hazel eyes dropped down to the figure across the room. Their dark form shifted and twisted before his eyes, their face coming into focus the longer he stared. If it wasn’t for staring into Lucifer’s true face for hundreds of years, Sam was sure the demon’s face would’ve terrified him. Once the thought crossed his mind, realization slammed into him, forcing his eyes to open wider.

“No,” Sam whispered.

“Oh yes,” the demon hissed. “Did you really think you’d go to paradise after slamming the doors? Hm?”

“Bite me,” Sam barked, lunging as far forward as he could.

“Oh, darling, I’m going to do much worse than that,” the demon laughed, slithering across the room. The bottomless pits the demon called eyes trailed over Sam’s body, and he could’ve sworn the demon looked in awe. “I don’t know how I managed to get the Boy King on my rack, but I couldn’t be happier.”

“I’ve been tortured by the devil himself,” Sam laughed bitterly. “What can you do to me?”

“Whatever I want,” the demon snarled, its rancid breath curling around Sam as it loomed over him. “And nothing is stopping your soul from twisting and warping this time.” The demon’s manic laughter echoed off the wall, mingling with Sam’s screams as it made the first cut.

Cas would disappear for weeks, leaving Dean alone in the eerie silence of the bunker. He knew he couldn’t follow Cas to Heaven, but that didn’t stop the aching loneliness from settling around him like a thick fog.

“Ah! Squirrel.” Dean jumped at Crowley’s voice, shuffling up to sit properly in his seat; he scrubbed at his face before looking in the direction of the ex-demon’s voice.

“Crowley,” Dean grunted.

“Feathers still off on his mission above?” Crowley dropped into the chair on Dean’s left; it was still unsettling to see Crowley in anything other than a three-piece suit, looking more human than ever.

“Yeah,” Dean hummed, crossing his arms on the library table. “This is the last trip. If he can’t find Sam’s soul, it’s not in Heaven.” Dean tried not to dwell on the thought, but it was getting harder and harder to look at the bright side.

“Are you ready to accept if he’s not there?” Crowley whispered, dropping his gaze. The hunter’s head snapped up, ready to tear into the other man, but he deflated when he caught the unfamiliar pained expression on Crowley’s face.

“I don’t know,” Dean whispered honestly. If Sam’s soul wasn’t in Heaven, that left only one place it could be, and it made him want to blow chunks. The library fell silent, and every pop and groan of the bunker sounded like bombs going off; Dean’s ringtone pierced through the room, almost sending Dean tumbling out of his chair. “Heya Cas.”

“Hello Dean,” Cas sighed. Dean could hear the rumble of Cas’ truck in the background and his heart sank to his feet.

“He’s not there,” Dean mumbled absently.

In a desperate attempt to save the world from Abaddon, in between scouring the Earth for a way to find Sam, Dean shouldered Cain’s burden. The Mark of Cain was like an itch Dean couldn’t scratch; a constant ache under his skin that screamed for murder. Dean’s fingers spun the beer bottle on the table, the ring of condensation making it glide easily against the wood. The only indication that he didn’t hear Cas’ approach was a twitch in his finger; Cas’ warm hand cupped the back of his neck, nimble fingers massaging away the tension at the base of his skull.

“I think I’ve found a way into Hell,” Cas whispered, his grip on Dean’s neck tightening.

Cas peaked around the corner, waving Dean on when he found the hall empty; the pair crept down the hall, their heads on a swivel.

“Dean Winchester.” Dean jolted upright, turning slowly towards the voice, swallowing the sigh to match Cas’. He could see the outline of at least another 15 demons in the shadows at the end of the hall, and the Mark screamed, nearly pulling him down the hall.

“Where’s my brother?”

“Ballsy to demand answers when your outnumbered,” the demon snorted, crossing its arms.

“Have you met us?” Dean huffed, spinning the angel blade in his hand. He didn’t waste another second, and Cas followed close behind; they bobbed and weaved, dodging punches and slamming their blades home. Dean ducked as Cas jammed his blade through the chin of a demon sneaking up behind him.

“Enough!” The hallway fell silent, aside from Dean and Cas’ labored breathing, as the fighting came to an abrupt halt. Dean squinted at the figure moving through the shadow at the end of the hall; he glanced over at Cas, who only shrugged and turned back to the approaching figure.

“And who the hell are you,” Dean snapped, straightening his shoulders. The figure stopped at the edge of the shadow, its head tilting slightly.

“I’m hurt, Dean,” the demon chuckled. “I thought you’d recognize me.” Dean took a closer look, but their features were too dark to make out anything. The man looked relaxed; the lapels of his coat flared out where his hands were stuffed in his pockets; Dean’s eyes moved higher over the stupidly tall figure, stopping at his head. He could make out the swoops of hair around the man’s shoulders, but the most striking thing was the outline of a crown perched on the top of his head.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. “Who are you.” The man chuckled, lifting one left dramatically before stepping into the light of the hallway; his head dropped down to his left with a cocky grin twisting across his face. All the blood drained from Dean’s face, his body suddenly feeling too hot and too cold; Cas gasped from behind him, taking a step back.

“Surprise,” Sam chuckled, lifting his head, black eyes staring back at them.

“S-Sam,” Cas croaked, sniffling softly.

“Ah, Cas,” Sam hummed, smirking at the angel, blinking his hazel eyes back.

“Get out of my brother,” Dean growled, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Dean,” Cas whispered. “That is Sam.”

“No, no, that’s bullshit,” Dean stuttered, shaking his head violently.

“Is it?” Sam snorted, tilting his head again. “I mean, I was destined to be the Boy King of Hell.” Sam’s smile looked more like a snarl, and it made Dean’s skin crawl; that wasn’t the boyish smile of his little brother anymore. “Since you’re here, I should probably thank you.”

“What,” Dean stuttered, glancing at Cas again.

“Well, you opened the gates of Hell for me,” Sam laughed, slowly wandering closer. “I didn’t even have to do anything.” Sam continued forward, his hazel eyes shifting back and forth between Dean and Cas; the demons still hovering nearby moved away. “On top of that, you even made my reign easier!” Sam smiled again, and it was so painfully familiar, Dean felt the ache of grief in his chest.

“What do you want from us?” Cas snarled next to Dean’s ear.

“You,” Sam replied, licking his lips. Dean spun on his heels when Cas groaned; two demons stood over the angel, holding him on his knees. The older Winchester turned on his brother again, his dull green eyes pleading, yearning for a tiny bit of the old Sam to still be in there.

“Sam, please,” Dean cried softly, fight the tears threatening to roll down his face.

“Oh, brother,” Sam cooed, stepping into Dean’s personal space. He flinched when Sam’s giant hand rested on his cheek, but his touch was gentle. “Do you really think I don’t know about the Mark?”

“No!” “What about it?” Cas and Dean talked over each other; Cas struggled, but the demons held strong.

“I originally thought you were going to be useless to me but now? Now I have something the kings before me didn’t,” Sam whispered, his thumb brushing against Dean’s stubble.

“Please!” Cas cried, grunting and struggling against the iron grip on his arms.

“I’m gonna have an angel under my thumb,” Sam started, glancing over Dean’s shoulder.

“Cas will never work for you,” Dean cut in, glaring at Sam.

“How cute,” Sam chuckled, patting his brother’s cheek. “You think he has a choice.” Sam nodded at someone over Dean’s head, and when he tried to look, Sam’s hand closed around his chin, yanking his head back to face him. “And on top of my angel, I’ll have my own personal Knight.”

“Knight?” Dean managed through his puckered lips.

“I wish I was surprised at how stupid you can be,” Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. “When you die, the Mark will bring you back as one of the most powerful demons: A Knight of Hell. Sooo, aside from bringing me an angel I can twist and shape, you gave me a Knight! Thank you, brother.”

“Don’t do this,” Dean whispered, blinking hard at the burning in his eyes. Sam looked over his head again, and his face darkened, a twisted smile spreading across his face.

“Sh, watch the show,” Sam whispered, turning Dean to face Cas. The angel was bucking and screaming, trying to whip his head back and forth away from the bleeding wrist of the demon looming over him. Despair flared up in Dean’s heart, tears steadily rolling down his face as he watched the demon jerk Cas’ head back by a fist full of hair; blood smeared across Cas’ lips as he choked on it, letting out a low distressed sound. The demon clapped a hand over his mouth when he removed his wrist, hissing something in the angel’s ear. Cas slumped back on his knees, his head hanging and his shoulders pitching up with each inhale when the demon released him.

Cas finally lifted his head, bearing his blood-stained teeth, and locking eyes with Sam over Dean’s shoulder. “Fuck you, Sam Winchester.”

“I’ll pass,” Sam chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to make my brother jealous; you are his angel.” Dean slumped back against his brother, his expression broken and empty. Cas retched forward, crying out and panting, his body convulsing. “Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll still let you have your fun with the angel as long as you behave.” Sam’s breath puffed against his ear, and he felt his heart shatter in his chest; he didn’t even realize Sam had shifted behind him. “See you soon.”

Dean gasped when the blade pierced his back; he looked down at the angel blade protruding from his chest before shifting his gaze back to Cas. Steadily dulling blue eyes were the last thing he saw before everything went black and his body hit the floor.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld

#supernatural #spn #spncreatorsdaily #destiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #boyking!sam #king of hell #moc!dean #halloween #hell #spooktober #crowley #human!crowley #demon!dean

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synmorite · 3 years

Text

Behind These Eyes- Chapter 2

Summary: The boys make you feel welcome in the bunker.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2955

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of depression, language, fluff

A/N: This is still a work in process, but if you have any constructive suggestions, please let me know! If there’s things that should be included in the warnings or the tags, feel free to send me a message.

*****************

After you finished cleaning yourself off, you tugged on the Led Zeppelin shirt and sweatpants that Dean left for you. Even though the pants were a bit too big, there was a drawstring that you used to tighten them so they wouldn’t fall down. You walked over to the mirror and wiped the steam off of it. You finger combed your hair and realized it was longer than when you last saw yourself in a mirror. You studied your appearance in the mirror. You looked the same, but ...not. Your skin had a healthy glow when before it was pallid with dark circles under your eyes. You looked down at your arms and while you still had scars up and down them, they didn’t bother you like they used to. You’d been surprised when you noticed them in the shower since you had gotten used to your arms being smooth again. You recognized yourself in the mirror, but realized that you looked happy and healthy. You hadn’t seen this girl in a long time before you had said yes to Arti. Smiling at your reflection, you exited the bathroom. You wandered down the hall a little bit before smelling something delicious that had your mouth watering. You followed your nose down the hall and back through the library and map room into a kitchen. Dean was humming and putting the finishing touches on a couple of burgers. He looked up and grinned brightly at you when you stepped down into the kitchen.

“Thought you might be hungry too so I made some burgers.”

“They smell amazing, Dean. I literally just followed my nose into here. This place is a crazy maze!”

He laughed deeply and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “You have a beautiful laugh too, Dean.”

He blushed deeply again. Your grin widened.

“It is just so easy to make you blush!”

“What? No it isn’t!” He said, defensively while continuing to blush.

“Oh yeah? You wanna look in a mirror, handsome?”

He looked startled at the compliment and you laughed. “Shut up and eat your burger!” He said, setting it down on the table along with a beer. You settled down at the table across from him and picked up the burger. You took a big bite and couldn’t stop the moan that escaped at the flavors that assaulted your mouth.

“This tastes awesome! This is the best burger I’ve had in the last five years!” Dean snorted at your lame joke. “You made this?”

He nodded. “Just call me the Meat Man!”

You choked and had to take a gulp of beer to clear your throat. Luckily, choking hid the blush that had erupted over your face at Dean’s comment.

“To quote a great man: ‘That word. I do not think it means what you think it means.’” You said once you could speak.

Dean looked slightly offended. “Don’t quote my man Inigo to me. I love meat!”

You couldn’t help the smirk and cocked eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

He caught your meaning and blushed again. “Shut up.”

You laughed and continued eating your burger in silence.

You liked this hunter. You’d developed a crush from the stories that Arti had shared, but with meeting him you got to see this whole other side that wasn’t public knowledge. He was cute and a little nerdy. He was much more good looking that you had anticipated, and much sweeter. You could tell that he loved taking care of people by how he was taking care of you despite not really knowing you. He deserved so much better than everything that’s happened to him.

After Dean finished his burger, he watched you quietly for a few minutes.

“What?” You asked, before taking another large bite of the burger.

“Why’d you say yes? To Arti? Cass told us that he’s a good guy, a good angel. I just don’t get why someone like you would agree to be an angel’s vessel.”

You looked up and met his green eyes before setting the last couple of bites of your burger down. Slowly, you moved your arms out in front of you so he could see the scars. His eyes widened a little at the amount and size of some of them.

“Five years ago, I was in a really bad place. Had been for a while. I’d tried everything, but nothing was helping my depression. After years of hospital visits and attempts to help, my friends and family left one by one. I’d barely been holding on and probably wasn’t far off from another suicide attempt when Arti found me. It took a month for him to convince me. I thought he was just a delusion at first. But he promised me peace. He promised that I would never be alone. He promised to help me. And he did. He gave me peace. I didn’t have any stress or expectations weighing on me. I just got to see the beauty in the world and appreciate it for what it is. Do you know what it is that Arti does?”

Dean shook his head.

“He heals grief. He helps people move forward and on from their pain. He is a good angel.” You looked down at your empty plate. “I know that most angels are assholes. But not Arti. He only wants to help.”

Dean reached across and took your hand in his. His thumb rubbed softly over your skin, soothing you. Although, you didn’t feel that gnawing emptiness that you used to when thinking or talking about your depression, but his touch still comforted you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said softly.

You smiled. “Don’t be. Really, I’m alright now.”

Just then, you heard light footsteps enter the kitchen behind you. Dean let go of your hand and you turned around to see Castiel.

“Hey Cass, what’s up?” Dean asked. Castiel’s eyes were on the spot where Dean had been holding your hand.

“May I speak to Y/N for a moment?”

“Uh, sure.” You said, puzzled. You followed Castiel from the kitchen over to the library.

“I’d like to check on Artiya’il if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.”

Castiel reached two fingers up and touched your forehead. You felt a gentle warmth in your center before it receded and Castiel removed his fingers.

“How is he?” You anxiously asked.

“He’s weak. They drained him almost completely of his grace. He will need time to replenish.”

“How long?”

“It is hard to say. A month or two perhaps before he can reclaim control.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N, you will need to be careful. Artiya’il does not have the power to protect you. You should stay here and under the protection of the Winchesters.” He hesitated a moment before glancing towards the kitchen. “But also, please remember that it is temporary.” He walked away with those cryptic words. Before you had a chance to try and figure out what Castiel meant, you heard Dean behind you.

“What’d he say?”

You sighed. “That Arti’s grace was depleted and it could be a couple of months before he re-emerges and takes control.”

You saw something flash across his face before he settled on an indifferent look. You swore it looked like relief or excitement.

“I’m gonna need more clothes. And underwear…” You said, cocking your head at Dean.

His eyes sparkled at you and he smirked. “You could just go naked, sweetheart.”

You burst out laughing. “You first, smartass.”

He grinned. “Not sure you could handle it. I can take you out tomorrow if you want. Need to do a supply run anyway.”

“Awesome, thanks.” You yawned then and were startled to realize that you were exhausted.

“You should head to bed. Been a long day.” Dean said. He reached forward and laid his hand lightly on your lower back as he guided you back to your room. You curled up under the blankets and sighed softly at the softness. Dean shut your light off for you and as he shut the door, you heard him whisper, “Good night, princess.” Then you let sleep overtake you.

You slept peacefully and woke feeling well-rested. According to the clock, it was six in the morning. Still early. Stretching, you laid in the bed trying to think of what to do next. You had a couple months before Arti could come back. Castiel suggested you stay here, but you didn’t want to be a burden. You hated being a burden. That’s what you’d been to your family. You shot up in bed. Your family. You’d vanished without a trace five years ago. What did they think happened to you?

Throwing off the covers, you climbed out of bed and cracked open the door. You leaned out and glanced at Dean’s door. It was shut. You didn’t want to wake him up to ask to borrow a computer. You looked between your room and his door, debating on just waiting for him to wake up, but then you smelled coffee. The other brother, Sam, must be up. You hadn’t spoken to him much on the car ride to the bunker, but he seemed nice enough. You quietly shut your door and padded down the hall towards the library and kitchen.

You could hear some movement coming from the kitchen so you hesitantly entered it and spotted Sam sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. He looked up when you came down the steps and smiled brightly.

“Hey Y/N! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.”

“Want some coffee?”

You nodded eagerly. He smiled at you again and got up to pour you a cup.

You sat down at the table, and Sam set a cup down in front of you.

“Sugar? Milk?”

“Nah, I like it black.”

Sam chuckled. “Dean does too.”

You smiled, thinking of Dean. “When does he get up?”

“It varies. Sometimes he’s up around now, but after a hunt he catches up on missed sleep a little. I’m not sure when he crashed.”

You sipped your coffee and Sam slid the paper over to you.

“I like going out for a run in the morning so I’ll be out for an hour. You need anything?”

“Uh, yeah. Do you have a computer I could use? I’d like to check in on my family…” You trailed off.

“Yea, no problem. I’ll go grab my laptop from my room.” Sam got up and placed his empty cup in the sink before leaving the kitchen.

You pulled the paper in front of you and glanced at the headlines. It didn’t look like much changed in the world. Still misery, death, and corruption. You sighed, knowing that while you had been at peace, the world would never find it.

Sam returned and set his laptop in front of you.

“The password to get in is getoffmycomputerdean. All lowercase.”

You burst out laughing. Sam grinned.

“Surprisingly, he hasn’t guessed it yet. Don’t tell him.”

“Oh, don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

“Good. Alright, I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Kay. Thanks Sam.”

Sam turned around and you heard his heavy footsteps before the bunker door thudded shut. You finished your coffee and carried Sam’s laptop into the library. You settled into a chair and opened his laptop. Giggling, you typed the password in and pulled up a google search page. Debating with yourself, you couldn’t decide between googling yourself or googling your family. Finally, you settled on yourself. You typed your name and your home city in and then eyed the results. Top results were an obituary and a link to a newspaper from 2010.

You clicked on the obituary first. It was definitely for you.

Y/N Y/L/N- Y/N passed away presumably around April 23rd, 2009. Y/N suffered from mental illness much of her life before disappearing last year without any warnings to her family and friends. She is survived by her parents and a younger sister. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the family’s Go Fund Me page to support them in their time of grief.

You scoffed. The date was off by two weeks. You said ‘yes’ to Arti on April 7th. You had figured that you would have been declared dead by now, but you thought they would have gotten your disappearance date more correct.

Moving on to the newspaper, you realized it was just the requirement to declare you dead legally. Just a couple of sentences about what you looked like, when you disappeared, and to contact the police with any information about your disappearance before you were legally declared dead.

Next, you went onto Facebook. Luckily, you still remembered your password. You scrolled through your own page and saw the only recent comments on your page were random people from high school and some former jobs wishing you happy birthday. Even after your supposed death. You searched through your short friends list until you found your sister. You scrolled through her page and saw that she’d been in a relationship with a guy for the last four years. All of her pictures were of her and this guy. You kept scrolling through all of the inane content she posted until you finally reached a post that mentioned you.

It’s finally done! The judge approved the declaration of Y/N’s death this morning.

That was two days before when the obituary was posted. You scrolled through the comments on the post and saw some people ask what happened. Your sister answered very simply. We’re pretty sure she killed herself. She had a long history of mental illness.

You kept scrolling and found another post that mentioned you a few months before that.

For those of you who know my sister, Y/N, can you let me know if you’ve seen her? Parents got a collection notice in the mail for her and we can’t get a hold of her to pass it along.

That was it. Those were the only posts about you. And from what you could tell, your family didn’t realize you were missing for nine months.

You leaned back in the chair and frowned at the computer. You knew you’d been a burden to them, but wasn’t quite expecting so much indifference to your supposed death.

You were so stuck in your thoughts, that you didn’t hear Dean approach you from behind.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean said, touching your shoulder gently. You jumped at the contact.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He pulled the chair out next to you and glanced at the computer screen. “Looking yourself up? What’d you find?”

“My family didn’t realize I was missing for months.” You murmured.

He studied your face carefully before reaching up and wiping away a tear that managed to escape your eye.

“Hey,” he said softly. “A wise man once told me that family don’t end in blood. Arti is your family now. I can be your family. Sam and Cass can be your family. We can be the family that you choose you have.” He grasped your hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the back of it.

Your eyes raised and met his gorgeous green ones. You could see in them the sincerity. He was offering you a place with his family. To be a part of it. And you knew in your heart that all of them would make you feel welcome. Hell, they already had. From Dean cooking you dinner last night to Sam loaning you his computer. They really wouldn’t hesitate to bring you in and make you part of their little family. This could be home.

You nodded. A wide grin spread across Dean’s face and you leaned forward and hugged him hard. After just a second’s hesitation, Dean wrapped his arms around you too. You gave another squeeze before pulling away. Dean’s hands reluctantly pulled away from your back, but he left one on your waist. The warmth of his palm through the shirt caused goosebumps to raise across your skin.

Dean glanced at the computer again and his eyes widened.

“Wait, that’s Sam’s computer! You know his password?!?!” He reached a hand towards it and you quickly smacked his hand away.

“Dean, no!”

He reached for the computer again. “Dean, yes!” You tried to smack his hand away again, but he squeezed your side with the hand that was still resting there. You squeaked. He stopped and looked at you in surprise before a grin spread across his perfect pink lips.

“Oh, no. No, don’t you dare, you fucker!” He quickly reached for you instead of the computer and then started to tickle your sides.

Tears ran down face as you giggled and snorted and tried to twist away from his hands. You heard the bunker door slam shut.

“Sam! Save me, Sam! He’s tickling me!’ Dean stopped and you gasped for breath. You looked over at Sam and saw he was grinning.

“Yea, I don’t think I want to get involved.”

“Hey, I gave myself up in defense of your computer!” Dean looked at the computer again which was now closed.

“Hey now! When did you shut it?” He said indignantly.

“You were too busy torturing me to notice, handsome.” You grinned.

“Well if it was to protect my computer and password… Dean’s also very ticklish.” Sam said.

Dean gasped next to you. “Traitor!”

You turned back around to smirk at Dean, but were met with an empty chair. You could hear his footsteps retreating down the hall.

“Hey! Get back here and take your tickling like a man!” You shouted after him.

“Nope!” He laughed and you ran after him.

Go to Chapter 3 >>>

#dean x reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester #fluff #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #behind these eyes #synmorite #synmoritewrites

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