Fic: And I Will Walk On Water (8/18)
Sep. 3rd, 2009 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tracy_loo_whoSorry this took so long, but on the bright side, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ibroketuesday and I spent hours fleshing out the rest of it on the train back from Vancouver, so hopefully the next bits will go faster? She even wrote me an outline of all the things we talked about so I wouldn't forget. *g*
Title: And I Will Walk On Water (8/18)
Characters: Dean and Castiel, Sam, Bobby
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~7,300
Summary: Things take a turn for the less sweet, and Dean finally realizes something.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Castiel didn't tell anyone about Dean's falling-asleep-on-an-angel stunt, but then again, he didn't have to. Dean woke to the warm, heavy weight of a blanket draped around him, the even warmer angel still pressed firmly against and supporting him, and the sound of Bobby's gruff voice not far off. The blanket and the angel made Dean want to burrow deeper and sleep some more, but Bobby won and Dean could feel the haziness of sleep clear from his mind as the old man talked. The early morning sun helped.
"What in the Lord's name have you done to him?" Bobby was asking, in a tone that Dean was glad wasn't directed at himself.
"I haven't done anything to him," he heard Castiel reply above his head, and it amused Dean that he sounded almost defensive. "He fell asleep."
"So you let him sleep out here?"
Castiel insisted, "I would not have let anyone harm him."
"I wasn't worried about anyone harming him, you idjit angel," Bobby snapped. "You may not, but we humans catch colds, you know, and it can get pretty chilly at night, even in the summer."
Dean couldn't help it. He forgot to be embarrassed or cramped from sitting here all night and actually giggled (it was a manly giggle, naturally). Then he blinked open his eyes to see Castiel turn his head and look imploringly down at him, like he wanted Dean to save him from Bobby. Dean looked past him, up at Bobby's glaring expression and frowning beard, and then back at Castiel, and laughed again, silently this time but also harder, his body shaking against Castiel's as he sank lower to hide behind him. Of all the ridiculous things Dean had ever woken up to, Bobby lecturing an angel like he was a naughty schoolboy might just take the friggin' cake. Castiel gave him a faintly despairing look and turned back to Bobby.
"I would not have let any virus harm him either," he said carefully. "And he has a blanket to combat the temperature drop."
"Oh, quit arguing and justifying, what are you, a Winchester?" came Bobby's annoyed response. "It ain't right, sleeping out here on the porch like some homeless schmuck."
Castiel did as he was told and didn't argue, and Bobby huffed. "Idjit boy probably deserves an idjit angel," he muttered to himself as he went back inside the house, screen door clanging shut in his wake.
Dean would have smiled at that if he hadn't still been laughing, and now Castiel turned to him and said sourly, "You owe me extra ice cream for this."
***
After Dean had gone in to wash up and change (he avoided Bobby's study), he took Castiel to the convenience store for ice cream. He bought two cones for Castiel, one chocolate and one strawberry, and one chocolate cone for himself. Castiel seemed more than appeased now that he had an ice cream cone in each hand and was licking them alternately, and it was Dean's turn to be annoyed.
He'd foolishly thought giving Castiel twice the amount of ice cream would lead to twice the amount of mess, but the damned angel's ice cream wasn't melting at all, while Dean sat beside him on the porch once more, wondering suspiciously if his own ice cream was melting more quickly than normal and trying to catch the little streams of melted chocolate with a napkin. A bit of it dripped onto his jeans anyway.
"Don't you dare say a thing," Dean groused, pointing a sticky finger at Castiel in warning.
Castiel only licked smugly at his perfectly frozen ice cream in reply. Dean gave him a dirty look and tried to wipe the ice cream from his jeans, but only really succeeded in smearing it. He gave up eventually and just as more of it came dangerously close to dripping off the tip of the cone, Dean shoved the last of it into his mouth. It didn't quite fit and made his cheeks puff out sharply, and parts of the cone dug uncomfortably into his gums as he tried to chew it, but apparently it was enough to make Castiel smile, so Dean figured it had to be worth it.
When he was done and had licked and wiped his fingers clean, Castiel offered him the rest of his strawberry ice cream. Dean paused and pursed his lips, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell Castiel that people didn't do that -- didn't give their half-eaten ice cream that they'd licked all over to their friends -- because that just wasn't the socially accepted thing to do, but Castiel misunderstood the look and assured him, "It won't melt this time."
And he was so earnest about it that Dean decided he didn't care if Castiel was socially inept. Castiel's life was complicated enough that he shouldn't have to worry about remembering and following arbitrary rules of human etiquette, and anyway Dean liked him best in these simple little moments when he was free of cares and restraints and did whatever he wished, like offer up his half-eaten ice cream. It was actually kind of sweet. And Dean wasn't even grossed out by it for some reason, though he felt he probably should be, and chalked it up to being just that comfortable with Castiel. He accepted the cone, and Castiel said blandly, "You should hurry, I was lying when I said it wouldn't melt."
Dean glared and elbowed him in the ribs, though not hard enough to startle Castiel or bruise his own elbow. "Don't make me smush this into your hair, Cas," he growled.
Castiel tilted his head and pointed out, "You couldn't even you tried."
"Is that what you think?" Dean challenged, rising to the bait even though he knew he didn't have a hope of winning. He met Castiel's eyes and stared him down for a few seconds before he moved suddenly, bringing the cone up and trying to upturn it over Castiel's head.
Castiel caught his wrist easily and Dean struggled in vain, unable to break free at all even though Castiel's grip was quite loose. Then he half got up and lunged forward, trying to use his other hand to grab the ice cream instead, but Castiel caught that wrist, too, and prevented Dean from losing his balance and falling on top of him in the process. Dean huffed and stilled, and they both watched a bit of the strawberry ice cream melt onto his fingers. He glared at Castiel again, only just resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at the angelic bastard.
"Bully," he said instead, sounding more whiny than he usually allowed himself to sound.
Castiel smirked and pushed him back down into a sitting position, and then Sam opened the door to stick his head out. He arched his eyebrows at them, and Castiel quickly let go of Dean's wrists and schooled his expression into his usual serious one. Dean snorted.
"You guys were out here all night?" Sam asked, glancing between Dean and Castiel.
Dean rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Bobby and his big friggin' mouth."
Sam ignored him. "We heard reports of increased demonic activity around here just now, Dean, you shouldn't be out here if you don't have to be. And Cas, what's the point of putting wards on the house if Dean just ends up sitting outside it?"
Castiel looked chastised, and the easy atmosphere of only a moment ago vanished completely under Sam's serious expression. Dean narrowed his eyes, feeling both indignant and guilty. "Are you saying I should hide out in the house while people get slaughtered?"
"Dean," Sam began, exasperated. "We came out here to lie low, you're not going to achieve anything by rising to Lucifer's bait."
"We're not going to achieve anything by hiding with our tails between our legs!" Dean replied angrily. "Come on, Sam, you're really going to let all those people die?"
"You were the one who said we should pick our battles, Dean," Sam reminded him. "And you were right. We're not ready to face Lucifer, and if you do anything stupid before we are ready, a lot more people are gonna die."
"Still, if you think I'm gonna--"
"Sam is right," Castiel interrupted him firmly. "You should go inside."
Dean turned to glare at him and snap, "You don't get to tell me what to do, Cas." He turned back to Sam. "And neither do you."
"We're asking, Dean," Sam said with a sigh. "Come on. Please. You know I'm right." Dean had never been good at saying no to Sam when he looked at him like that, all wide eyed and plaintive, and he gritted his teeth. The worst thing was, Sam was right, and Dean knew it. He couldn't play right into Lucifer's hand.
Still, he hesitated until Castiel said, "I will see what I can do about the demons in the area."
Dean narrowed his eyes. "If you get your angel ass hurt--"
"I won't," Castiel said, a bit disdainfully, and handed Dean the rest of his chocolate ice cream cone. Dean took it automatically, and then Castiel was gone.
"You want some ice cream?" Dean asked Sam, his worry for Castiel making it come out a bit more scathingly than he'd intended.
Sam eyed both ice cream cones and snorted. "Just come inside, okay?"
"Fine," Dean snapped, and stood up to push past Sam so he could get through the door. He ended up finishing the ice cream by himself in the kitchen, while he paced in agitation.
***
Dean spent most of the day throwing himself into research to distract himself from thinking about all the people he wasn't out there saving, wondering how the hell he was supposed to save the world, and being concerned for Castiel. It didn't work for him nearly as well as it apparently worked for Sam.
At least his concern for Castiel turned out to be unwarranted, though, because in the evening Dean looked out the window to see Castiel sitting on top of the Impala with his legs hanging over the side, watchful but perfectly fine. He breathed a little easier and decided he'd had enough of being indoors all day, so he went outside with a couple of beers.
But Castiel shook his head when Dean tried to hand him one and said tightly, "We have been too lax lately. We need to concentrate on the war." There was something different about him; something that reminded Dean of the old Castiel, all serious angel business and no fun and games. It wasn't a realization Dean enjoyed having.
He studied Castiel for a moment, but on the outside there was nothing about Castiel's appearance that gave Dean the impression he'd been out fighting demons all day, except for maybe the unruliness of his hair. So he opted to ask instead, "What's going on out there, Cas?"
"Nothing I can't deal with yet," Castiel replied vaguely, "but Lucifer will not be content to idle for long, and you cannot stay here forever. We will need to prepare ourselves."
"You think I don't know that?" Dean asked, unable to keep the irritation and frustration out of his voice. "It's been hanging over my head ever since you first told me I had to stop him, and no amount of cheesecake or chocolate or alcohol is ever gonna make me forget that, Cas, trust me."
Castiel looked down at him, and he seemed troubled. After awhile he confessed softly, "There were moments when I almost did forget."
It bled out Dean's irritation for the time being, and he sighed. "It's alright, Cas. I'm glad, actually. You deserve a break every once in awhile." He spared a second to be inwardly pleased that he could do that much for Castiel, at least, fleeting as it was.
"But Lucifer--"
"Is not going to drop dead even if we kill ourselves trying to kill him," Dean finished for him. "All we'll succeed in doing in that case is killing ourselves."
Castiel wasn't convinced. "We should try harder," he insisted.
And Dean agreed with him, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he had no idea where to even begin coming up with a plan to kill Lucifer. "What do you want me to do, Cas?" he snapped, because his irritation had returned along with his helplessness, and there was a lot more of it now. "If you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them, because I'm fresh out. We got here, and you've protected the house, but now what? I've just spent all day staring at old textbooks until my eyes went cross, but nobody ever wrote an instruction manual on how to kill the devil, because it's never been fucking done before. There aren't even stick figure diagrams! Sam and Bobby haven't found anything either, so tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."
"I don't know, Dean," said Castiel, clearly just as frustrated as Dean was. Then he lowered his eyes and repeated, more quietly and sounding kind of helpless himself, "I don't know."
Dean blew out a long breath, suddenly feeling unaccountably weary and trying his damnedest not to despair now that he'd finished ranting but not knowing how to have hope, especially when he dropped his gaze from Castiel's somber expression to glance at his own reflection, which stared back at him from the car window. The sun hadn't set yet, so Dean could see himself clearly. The man he saw was just some guy with freckles on his nose and a twenty in his back pocket. He was Dean, but Dean was a regular nobody; one ordinary person among six billion. How was he meant to save the world?
"I really think you've got the wrong guy, Cas," he said with a slight shake of the head, suddenly feeling small in a huge, huge world.
"No," Castiel replied above him, and some of his old assurednesss had returned. "You are the one who will stop it."
"How can you be so sure?" Dean asked, a little desperately. "What the hell do you see in me?" Because he was looking, but he couldn't see it. He was just Dean.
"I see you," Castiel said simply, but Dean didn't look up at him. "Dean Winchester."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Everything."
Dean rolled his eyes. Fucking angel with his fucking cryptic answers that didn't mean shit. They didn't make Dean feel better at all, but then suddenly Castiel was no longer sitting on the Impala but standing close behind him. Dean turned his head to look over his shoulder at him and Castiel said, "Have faith, Dean."
"In what?" Dean asked, barely above a whisper. "God's divine prophecy?"
Castiel glanced up at the sky for a moment and let out a long breath, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched it, but then he dropped his gaze again and met Dean's. "In yourself."
Dean sneered a little, bitterly, but when he turned to look at his reflection again, it was no longer alone in the window but had an angel over its shoulder, and that made him feel a tiny bit less hopeless, maybe. He still wasn't a superhero, but ordinary guys didn't have angels, right? Dean had one, and even though Castiel didn't seem to have faith in much of anything these days, apparently he still had faith in Dean, and the part of Dean that wasn't completely sure he'd let Castiel down was actually glad for that faith. At least one of them had it, and that had to be better than nothing.
They stared at each other's reflections for a long time, and when Dean next looked up, it was noticeably darker. "You should go back in," Castiel said.
"Right," Dean sighed, and glanced down at the two bottles of unopened beer that were still in his hand. He had a feeling Castiel's days of following him around and simply soaking up all the best human experiences Dean could offer him were over, and that came with a faint pang. "Whatever."
He turned without another glance at Castiel and trudged back inside to put the beers back in the fridge and then go upstairs to throw himself down onto his bed. Dean stared up at the shadows on the ceiling for a long time before restless sleep finally overcame him.
***
When Dean looked out his window the next morning, the Impala was still there but Castiel wasn't. Off fighting demons again, Dean supposed. It niggled at him, his concern for Castiel, but of course, Castiel eventually came back. It didn't stop him from worrying again the next day, though, and the day after that, silly as it was. Dean knew Castiel could take care of himself and wouldn't walk into any unnecessary danger, but he couldn't help wanting him around just so he could keep an eye on him. The sight of Castiel sitting on top of his car put Dean's mind at relative ease. Every day he couldn't help but think that if only Castiel would come back again that night, everything could be almost okay for a day longer. But when Castiel did come back, Dean always wondered if they were pushing their luck, and began worrying about the next day.
Sometimes Dean would go outside to lean against the Impala and talk with Castiel, but he'd been right when he'd guessed that Castiel wouldn't be much fun anymore. His expression varied from day to day in terms of how tight and drawn it was, and he did keep Dean updated on what was going on, for the most part, but Dean had a feeling he always downplayed the danger. So, he learned to judge the difficulty of Castiel's battles by how badly his hair was rumpled.
Things were still friendly between them, and they were still close in a way that let them be comfortable in each other's presence without having to say a word for long stretches of time, but still, sometimes Dean caught himself missing the Castiel that ate sweet things with him and teased him and occasionally even smiled at him. Castiel didn't smile anymore, and he always sat up on the top of the car, just out of reach. Dean didn't know why, but this bothered him, somehow, because he'd gotten used to Castiel being right there, always just a finger brush away. He wanted Castiel to be closer, more human, more his, and he wanted to touch Castiel and wipe away the increasingly haunted shadows under his eyes that may or may not have been Dean's imagination and make sure that he was really okay. Mostly, he just wanted to make Castiel smile again.
But Dean couldn't do any of those things -- he could barely even make Sam smile, these days, because the world was dying and Sam walked around with guilt as palpable as his own -- and after a week of this, he was going stir-crazy. He didn't want to be stuck in the house with books while Castiel was out there battling the endless onslaught of demons and Lucifer was out there destroying whole cities at a time, now, maybe just to spite him. Dean was a goddamned hunter, and he needed to hunt. The circular arguments he kept having with Sam over the issue only added to his frustration, and even Bobby had started telling him how important it was that he stay safe until they were ready. It was worst when Castiel said it, though, because Dean knew that Castiel could keep him here by force, if necessary.
He decided to test that theory out one day, after he'd just spent ten hours not being able to concentrate on a damned thing he'd read and snapping at both Sam and Bobby whenever they'd talked to him. His foul mood bled into the way he told Castiel, "I'm not your fucking prisoner, and I'm not Sam and Bobby's rebellious teenager, either. They actually ask me where I'm going when I leave the room, can you believe that?"
Castiel sighed as he regarded him. "They only want to keep you safe, Dean."
"I don't want to be kept safe," Dean snapped, his ire spiking. "It's supposed to be the other way around, me hunting and keeping others safe, remember? Not me sitting around like some goddamned invalid. You're the nerd, why don't you go read some friggin' books and let me take care of the demons for a change?"
"You cannot fight the demons in this town," Castiel said seriously. "They will only take you to Lucifer."
"Then let them!" Dean wasn't entirely sure that he meant it, but he also wasn't entirely sure he cared anymore. Even if his fight with Lucifer was pathetic and brief, at least he'd be doing something, and that was better than nothing.
Castiel's eyes narrowed in warning. "No."
Dean sneered at him and opened the car door on the driver's side, but before he could get in, Castiel had gotten off the car and slammed the door shut again, all in the blink of an eye. He stood between Dean and the Impala, challenging him, and Dean was furious enough to shove him up against the side of the car. Castiel flinched a little and Dean immediately felt guilty and started to pull away, but then Castiel seemed fine after his initial reaction and Dean stopped worrying about it because this was the closest they'd been to each other in over a week and he could see that the stress was wearing on Castiel. It hadn't put any more wrinkles in his face or grey hairs on his head, but still, Dean could tell from the tense weariness in his eyes as he looked up at Dean and the way he was letting Dean do whatever he wanted without putting up a fight. Dean wanted to make it go away, somehow, because Castiel had done enough for him and shouldn't have to keep fighting his battles, but he didn't know how to make it go away, and his fists clenched and unclenched in the lapels of Castiel's trench coat in frustrated inaction.
"Let me come with you, at least," Dean said eventually, a hint of pleading in his voice.
Castiel's calm expression didn't change one iota as he said, "No."
And even though Dean had been expecting that, it didn't make him any less angry. "Go to hell," he growled bitterly. Castiel lowered his gaze at that, and seemed to be looking down at where Dean's hands were still fisted in his clothes and pressing him against the car. Dean knew he should step back to give him some space, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of Castiel now that he finally had him right here, even though he still had no idea what to do with him. "I didn't mean it," he said after a beat.
Castiel lifted his eyes to Dean's again and he replied, "I know."
Dean wanted something here -- maybe to punch Castiel, maybe to smooth hands over his face, maybe to cling to him or hold him, but more likely it was all of those things or something else entirely, something nameless -- but whatever it was, it was dancing just out of his reach. He thought that if only Castiel stayed here with him for long enough then maybe he could figure it out, this compelling but elusive itch, and then he could scratch it and make everything a bit more bearable, but just as Dean opened his mouth to say something that might keep Castiel there, Castiel put a palm against his forehead and sent him hurtling back into Bobby's study.
The old man grunted in surprise, but it was drowned out when Dean swore in frustration and a strange sense of loss. He glared out the window at Castiel, but Castiel had resumed his spot on top of the Impala and was looking away from the house, up at the quickly darkening sky. Dean knew it would be useless to go back outside even if he'd wanted to.
So, maybe he couldn't quite put a finger on everything he wanted, but he did know that he wanted out, and no one was going to keep him here against his will, not even an angel. He just had to wait for an opening.
***
Dean was surprised that Castiel was still just outside the next day, sitting on the Impala right where he'd left him. Bastard was probably keeping an eye on him, Dean thought with a fresh wave of frustration. As if Sam and Bobby didn't already do enough of that.
What frustrated him even more was the fact that even though Castiel staying in Dean's sight should have eased his constant fretting a little, it was actually shooting his concentration to hell even more than his restlessness from the day before had. Dean couldn't read up on all the lore surrounding Michael's sword when he kept glancing up every few minutes, unbidden, to check that Castiel was still there.
He had half a mind to go out there and tell Castiel off, but the next time he looked out the window, Castiel was no longer alone. There was another guy there, and Dean tensed and would have studied him more closely, but his attention was drawn toward Castiel, who was now standing and facing the newcomer with what looked a lot like terror. It was an expression not even Lucifer had been able to put on Castiel's face, and Dean didn't need to know anything else.
He grabbed Ruby's knife and left the safety of the house without a thought for anything other than getting to Castiel. He didn't even pause to wonder if he should find Sam and Bobby for backup.
Dean kept the knife behind his back as he snuck up behind the intruder, and it was a mark of how distraught Castiel was that he barely even looked at Dean. His eyes were wide and trained on whoever the fuck Dean was seconds away from stabbing as the guy demanded in a sharp British accent, "Answer me, Castiel!" Thunderous power curled around his words in a way that wasn't unlike the way Lucifer spoke when he got angry, but this wasn't Lucifer.
Regardless of who it was, Dean tapped him on the shoulder and when the demon or angel or whatever turned, he said, "Answer to this, you son of a bitch." Then he plunged Ruby's knife straight into the vessel's heart and gave it a vicious twist.
"Dean!" Castiel yelled, sounding furious and panicked at the same time, but he didn't make a move.
The guy Dean had stabbed merely looked bemused as he glanced down at the handle of the knife protruding from his chest. Angel, then. Dean swore under his breath and braced himself for whatever was coming to him, but the angel only pulled the knife out of his chest and handed it back to Dean. He'd chosen a good looking guy -- short hair and sharp, militaristic features -- and he was shorter than both Dean and Castiel, but he was well built and raw power that had nothing to do with the vessel seemed to thrum around him. Dean took the knife back because it made him feel a bit more in control when he had a weapon in his hand, even a useless one, and swallowed nervously.
"Dean Winchester," the angel said, with some amusement, as he eyed Dean up and down. The casual appraisal made Dean feel uncomfortably like a piece of meat, but he didn't get to dwell on it because the bastard continued in his prissy British voice, "This is not how I expected our first meeting to go, but I hear you're full of surprises. I'm Michael."
Dean didn't choke, but it was a close thing. "Michael? What, the archangel?" The guy whose sword he'd been trying to read up on, even. The one who'd defeated Lucifer. Dean swallowed again.
Michael inclined his head in assent, but Dean was done being impressed with him because he looked over Michael's shoulder and saw that Castiel still looked mildly terrified. Then he realized why -- Lucifer had said that Michael and Gabriel had been sent to destroy Castiel after he'd rebelled, and Dean was suddenly furious because the son of a bitch had almost killed his Cas and then hadn't done a single fucking thing to stop Lucifer in the months since he'd risen. And now he was probably here to finish what he'd started, but if he thought Dean was going to let that happen, well, he would have to fucking think again. "You're here for Cas?" Dean growled dangerously.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel shift uncomfortably, but Dean ignored him. Michael arched an eyebrow and said, "Yes. But--"
But Dean didn't wait for it. He stabbed the fucker again.
"Dean," Castiel hissed again, and stepped toward them, but he suddenly froze mid-stride, looking helplessly furious, and Dean got the impression Michael was keeping him still with his mind even though the archangel hadn't turned to spare him a glance.
Dean could still move, though, and when Michael simply stared at him with a puzzled expression that seemed to demand he explain himself, he began angrily, "Why the fuck are you here when you should be out there killing Lucifer? Lost a bit of your touch, have you? Decided to pick on Cas instead of someone your own size, and for what, an ego stroke?" He sneered down at Michael, but not even his height advantage could make him feel anything but tiny and insignificant under that forceful stare that was beginning to look slightly annoyed. Still, Dean's bravado wasn't all false, because he still had his temper, and even though Michael opened his mouth to say something, Dean found he didn't want to hear it.
He continued, "I've got an idea for you, buddy, why don't you fuck off and leave Cas alone before I kick your ass? Bully someone who actually deserves it. Go save the world instead of waiting around for some human who doesn't have a chance in hell of winning against Lucifer to do it for you. You've got a big, shiny sword, right? Where is it, did it get lost somewhere up there in your ass when you were having drinks and popcorn with your old buddy Zach while you guys watched the rest of us run around trying to stop the apocalypse?"
Castiel made a muffled, strangled sound from where he still stood frozen, probably in an attempt to warn Dean about his impending death, but it wasn't like Dean couldn't tell it was coming from the way Michael narrowed his eyes at him. Instead of smiting him, though, the archangel only wrenched the knife out of his chest in an irritated gesture and handed it off to Castiel this time before simply disappearing.
"What did you think that would accomplish?" Castiel snapped at him the moment Michael was gone, as he crossed the distance between himself and Dean in the blink of an eye and crowded him threateningly.
Dean took an unconscious step back, eyes wide as he tried to wrap his mind around the sudden turn of events. It didn't take too long, and then he snapped back at Castiel and regained the ground he'd lost, bringing their faces only inches apart. "He nearly killed you, Cas! And then he left you to the demons, what the hell was I supposed to do, greet him with a smile and a fucking kiss?"
"No, but he's Michael," Castiel said, in a tone that made it quite clear how much he feared and respected him. Dean remembered the way he'd talked about archangels before, about how they were fierce and absolute and Heaven's most terrifying weapon, blah blah fanboy blah, and Michael was the big shot. Dean didn't give a damn.
"Yeah, well, until he does something impressive, like, say, kill Lucifer, he's just a glorified bully to me," he sneered.
"You will show him some respect!" Castiel hissed at him, actually surprising Dean with the strength of his anger. Dean had never seen him this worked up before, to the point where he was actually vibrating from it, and he had no idea why Castiel was like this now, except perhaps because the memories of what Michael had done to him might have put him on edge.
In any case, while Castiel might have intimidated Dean at one point, he couldn't anymore. Pissiness aside, Castiel was still his Cas, and Dean snorted and challenged, "Or what?"
Castiel made a small, angry noise in his throat and threw Ruby's knife down at Dean's feet before disappearing himself, which made Dean want to punch something. "Angels," he barked at the empty air in frustration, wondering what it was about those slippery sons of bitches that made it so impossible for them to stay and work things through instead of just blinking out at the first sign of an argument.
After a few moments of seething impotently out in the yard, though, two things occurred to Dean. The first was that no one was keeping an eye on him at the moment, and the second was that he had keys to the Impala on him, Ruby's knife, and a whole trunk full of weapons. After a quick glance around to make sure of the first point, Dean slid into the car as quietly as he could and drove off.
The freedom of sitting behind the wheel of his baby and the anticipation of finally being able to kill something pushed Castiel and Michael from Dean's mind, and he turned the music up when he hit the main road that led through town. His opening had come sooner than he'd expected.
***
At some point while Dean glanced around at the seven demons surrounding and closing in on him, though, he had to admit to himself that he might have bitten off a bit more than he could chew. He'd followed a lead he'd overheard Sam and Bobby discussing the day before, but they'd thought there were only two demons running this family diner. There were also five kids in the family, apparently, and all of them were black-eyed and menacing. It was too late to back out now, though, and Dean only had a moment to take stock of where all the doors and windows were before they were on him.
Dean managed to take out the first two with the knife, but one of the kids kicked him in the shin, hard enough to make him yelp. He was momentarily distracted, and the wife threw a punch to his throat that sent him flying backwards to crash against a table, where he lay wheezing in pain. Then he groped for his salt gun and fired off a few rounds to keep the demons at bay, but they vanished before any of the salt hit them and simply reappeared closer to him. Dean tried to sit up and slash at them with his knife, but the wife caught his wrist and pried the knife from his hand while the husband punched him in the stomach, twice. Right about then, Dean would have given up on holding onto his pride and called for Castiel if he hadn't been so winded, but he was winded, and he couldn't say a damned thing.
Right before he was about to be stabbed with his own knife, though, he heard Sam shout, "Dean!" and there were more rounds of salt being fired left and right.
Dean breathed in relief, and was about to get off the table and try to help, but then he saw that Castiel was there, too, taking out demons with even more deadly efficiency than usual, and figured that maybe he could take a break to rub his bruises.
All of the demons were either dead or gone in under a minute, mostly thanks to Castiel, and then Sam was at his side, all wide-eyed concern and making sure he was okay. Dean glanced past him at Castiel, who stayed where he was some ways off and stared back with a stony expression on his face that Dean wanted to smooth away, and closed his eyes briefly so he wouldn't have to look at it. He'd fucked up this time, but Dean opened his eyes again and gave Sam a small, tight smile. "I'm alright, Sam," he assured his brother, and didn't accept help walking out to the car. He was a bit battered and bruised, but it was nothing compared to some of the injuries he'd sustained before.
Castiel didn't join them on the drive back, and Sam didn't lecture him about sneaking out and almost getting killed, but Dean was still kind of ashamed of himself for botching up such a simple hunt and proving right their assessment that he was best off locked away in Bobby's house.
"Dean--" Sam began when they neared the house, but Dean shook his head.
"I know, Sam," he cut in with his lips pursed. "You don't have to say it."
Sam rolled his eyes. "No, I mean, I was gonna say, I don't think being at Bobby's is accomplishing anything. We've gone through all the books he has on Heaven and Hell and haven't found anything, so we should hit the road again soon."
Dean blinked and glanced over at him, surprised and more than a bit hopeful. "You think that?"
"What, you think I haven't noticed that you've been going stir-crazy?"
"But what happened to needing to stay safe, blah blah blah?" Dean asked dubiously.
Sam snorted. "Is this what you call 'staying safe'?" Dean looked away, embarrassed, and Sam continued, "Look, I'm sure we can figure something out that doesn't involve keeping you locked up, Dean." There was a pause before he muttered, "I know how that feels."
Dean felt a small pang of guilt, but mostly just a warm rush of affection for his stupid brother. This kid really was the best after all, and when Dean smiled at him, Sam glanced over and smirked. "I get to drive and pick the music, though."
"No," Dean said automatically, with a glare that he only hoped was intimidating.
Sam wasn't intimidated, and when they pulled up to a stop in front of Bobby's house, he insisted, "Yes! Come on, Dean."
"No!"
They stared at each other, and then, at the same time, held out their fists for a rock-paper-scissors contest. Dean picked scissors and lost (again), and swore at the same time that Sam whooped in triumph. He tried to cuff his little brother over the ear, but Sam ducked, laughed, and opened his door to escape.
Dean watched his retreating hulk with a small smile, and then sighed and climbed out of the car himself to sit on the hood and wait for Castiel, because even though he shouldn't care, the thought that Castiel might actually be pissed at him bothered Dean. And he wanted to make sure Castiel was okay, too, because he hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him at all after the Michael incident.
He sat there quietly for well over an hour before Castiel appeared, looking even more worn and fidgety and unhappy than usual.
"Hey, Cas," Dean said, trying to sound as conciliatory as possible. "You alright?"
Castiel's eyes narrowed at him and for a second Dean thought he might tell him to go inside where it was safe, but then Castiel asked, "What do you want?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Come on, Cas, you aren't really pissed at me, are you?"
Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line and asked, "Are you aware of how insolent, reckless, and annoying you are?"
Even though Dean tried not to smile, he couldn't quite help it. "Yes. But I'll make it up to you," he offered, running down his mental list of delicious things he still wanted to make Castiel try but then discarding it for something more simple. When Castiel didn't reply, Dean beckoned him over. "C'mere."
"Why?" Castiel tilted his head suspiciously.
"Cas," Dean wheedled, "just come here."
He was still sitting up on the hood of the Impala, and when Castiel approached to stand dubiously before him, Dean took him by the shoulder and turned him around, ignoring the way Castiel still felt a little shaky under his touch despite his efforts to hide it. Then he pulled Castiel back until he was leaning against the car, and Castiel simply let him even though he couldn't see him. He didn't even object when Dean slid his trench coat and suit jacket off of his shoulders. The implicit trust there warmed Dean, and he brought both of his hands up to Castiel's shoulders and began massaging them.
"Dean?" Castiel asked, voice suddenly small and kind of hesitant.
"Shhh, just relax," Dean told him as his hands worked at Castiel's tense muscles. "And stop being pissed at me."
Castiel huffed but did relax a bit under his hands, especially when Dean moved up to the back of his neck to rub small circles there. He let his hands roam all over Castiel's neck and shoulders, massaging firmly but slowly and thoroughly, and he could feel the vibrating tension slowly bleed out of Castiel's body. They were both quiet, but after several minutes Castiel told him, "You're still insolent and reckless."
But at least he wasn't annoying anymore, which Dean felt was a small victory, and he grinned a bit. "I know."
It seemed to satisfy Castiel, because then he nodded and leaned in even further, between Dean's legs, and tilted his head back to rest it against Dean's chest with a small sigh of pleasure. His face was turned up to the sky, and was so close Dean could have counted his eyelashes if he'd wanted to, dark against his pale skin as he let his eyes fall shut and his expression go lax. Dean's hands kept working on Castiel's shoulders without pause, but his breath caught a little, because this was exactly what he'd wanted all this time. To have Castiel here with him again, melted into him like when Dean had held him and trusting Dean to take care of him and make him feel good. Dean reveled quietly in this moment and wanted it to last forever, but he also wanted more of it. He wanted to be even closer, to make Castiel feel even better, to hear him make that soft, pleased sound again.
Maybe he'd do it if Dean touched him more, all over, or even kissed him--
Dean jolted out of his thoughts and pushed Castiel away from him, hastily and a bit more roughly than he'd intended. Castiel turned to look at him, the question in his eyes mixing with something that looked like disappointment, and his lips parted to say something. Dean didn't want to look at his lips, though, so he said hastily, "Sorry. Just thought of something. I should go back in before Sam starts getting all mother hen on me again anyway." He got off the car as he talked, avoiding Castiel's gaze and pushing past him so he could hurry back to the house and be safe from those searching eyes.
As soon as Dean was inside and had closed the door, he leaned back against it and let out a shaky breath. His cheeks were hot with embarrassment, and Dean knew this one would take awhile to figure the fuck out.
Part 9
ibroketuesday and I spent hours fleshing out the rest of it on the train back from Vancouver, so hopefully the next bits will go faster? She even wrote me an outline of all the things we talked about so I wouldn't forget. *g*Title: And I Will Walk On Water (8/18)
Characters: Dean and Castiel, Sam, Bobby
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~7,300
Summary: Things take a turn for the less sweet, and Dean finally realizes something.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Castiel didn't tell anyone about Dean's falling-asleep-on-an-angel stunt, but then again, he didn't have to. Dean woke to the warm, heavy weight of a blanket draped around him, the even warmer angel still pressed firmly against and supporting him, and the sound of Bobby's gruff voice not far off. The blanket and the angel made Dean want to burrow deeper and sleep some more, but Bobby won and Dean could feel the haziness of sleep clear from his mind as the old man talked. The early morning sun helped.
"What in the Lord's name have you done to him?" Bobby was asking, in a tone that Dean was glad wasn't directed at himself.
"I haven't done anything to him," he heard Castiel reply above his head, and it amused Dean that he sounded almost defensive. "He fell asleep."
"So you let him sleep out here?"
Castiel insisted, "I would not have let anyone harm him."
"I wasn't worried about anyone harming him, you idjit angel," Bobby snapped. "You may not, but we humans catch colds, you know, and it can get pretty chilly at night, even in the summer."
Dean couldn't help it. He forgot to be embarrassed or cramped from sitting here all night and actually giggled (it was a manly giggle, naturally). Then he blinked open his eyes to see Castiel turn his head and look imploringly down at him, like he wanted Dean to save him from Bobby. Dean looked past him, up at Bobby's glaring expression and frowning beard, and then back at Castiel, and laughed again, silently this time but also harder, his body shaking against Castiel's as he sank lower to hide behind him. Of all the ridiculous things Dean had ever woken up to, Bobby lecturing an angel like he was a naughty schoolboy might just take the friggin' cake. Castiel gave him a faintly despairing look and turned back to Bobby.
"I would not have let any virus harm him either," he said carefully. "And he has a blanket to combat the temperature drop."
"Oh, quit arguing and justifying, what are you, a Winchester?" came Bobby's annoyed response. "It ain't right, sleeping out here on the porch like some homeless schmuck."
Castiel did as he was told and didn't argue, and Bobby huffed. "Idjit boy probably deserves an idjit angel," he muttered to himself as he went back inside the house, screen door clanging shut in his wake.
Dean would have smiled at that if he hadn't still been laughing, and now Castiel turned to him and said sourly, "You owe me extra ice cream for this."
***
After Dean had gone in to wash up and change (he avoided Bobby's study), he took Castiel to the convenience store for ice cream. He bought two cones for Castiel, one chocolate and one strawberry, and one chocolate cone for himself. Castiel seemed more than appeased now that he had an ice cream cone in each hand and was licking them alternately, and it was Dean's turn to be annoyed.
He'd foolishly thought giving Castiel twice the amount of ice cream would lead to twice the amount of mess, but the damned angel's ice cream wasn't melting at all, while Dean sat beside him on the porch once more, wondering suspiciously if his own ice cream was melting more quickly than normal and trying to catch the little streams of melted chocolate with a napkin. A bit of it dripped onto his jeans anyway.
"Don't you dare say a thing," Dean groused, pointing a sticky finger at Castiel in warning.
Castiel only licked smugly at his perfectly frozen ice cream in reply. Dean gave him a dirty look and tried to wipe the ice cream from his jeans, but only really succeeded in smearing it. He gave up eventually and just as more of it came dangerously close to dripping off the tip of the cone, Dean shoved the last of it into his mouth. It didn't quite fit and made his cheeks puff out sharply, and parts of the cone dug uncomfortably into his gums as he tried to chew it, but apparently it was enough to make Castiel smile, so Dean figured it had to be worth it.
When he was done and had licked and wiped his fingers clean, Castiel offered him the rest of his strawberry ice cream. Dean paused and pursed his lips, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell Castiel that people didn't do that -- didn't give their half-eaten ice cream that they'd licked all over to their friends -- because that just wasn't the socially accepted thing to do, but Castiel misunderstood the look and assured him, "It won't melt this time."
And he was so earnest about it that Dean decided he didn't care if Castiel was socially inept. Castiel's life was complicated enough that he shouldn't have to worry about remembering and following arbitrary rules of human etiquette, and anyway Dean liked him best in these simple little moments when he was free of cares and restraints and did whatever he wished, like offer up his half-eaten ice cream. It was actually kind of sweet. And Dean wasn't even grossed out by it for some reason, though he felt he probably should be, and chalked it up to being just that comfortable with Castiel. He accepted the cone, and Castiel said blandly, "You should hurry, I was lying when I said it wouldn't melt."
Dean glared and elbowed him in the ribs, though not hard enough to startle Castiel or bruise his own elbow. "Don't make me smush this into your hair, Cas," he growled.
Castiel tilted his head and pointed out, "You couldn't even you tried."
"Is that what you think?" Dean challenged, rising to the bait even though he knew he didn't have a hope of winning. He met Castiel's eyes and stared him down for a few seconds before he moved suddenly, bringing the cone up and trying to upturn it over Castiel's head.
Castiel caught his wrist easily and Dean struggled in vain, unable to break free at all even though Castiel's grip was quite loose. Then he half got up and lunged forward, trying to use his other hand to grab the ice cream instead, but Castiel caught that wrist, too, and prevented Dean from losing his balance and falling on top of him in the process. Dean huffed and stilled, and they both watched a bit of the strawberry ice cream melt onto his fingers. He glared at Castiel again, only just resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at the angelic bastard.
"Bully," he said instead, sounding more whiny than he usually allowed himself to sound.
Castiel smirked and pushed him back down into a sitting position, and then Sam opened the door to stick his head out. He arched his eyebrows at them, and Castiel quickly let go of Dean's wrists and schooled his expression into his usual serious one. Dean snorted.
"You guys were out here all night?" Sam asked, glancing between Dean and Castiel.
Dean rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Bobby and his big friggin' mouth."
Sam ignored him. "We heard reports of increased demonic activity around here just now, Dean, you shouldn't be out here if you don't have to be. And Cas, what's the point of putting wards on the house if Dean just ends up sitting outside it?"
Castiel looked chastised, and the easy atmosphere of only a moment ago vanished completely under Sam's serious expression. Dean narrowed his eyes, feeling both indignant and guilty. "Are you saying I should hide out in the house while people get slaughtered?"
"Dean," Sam began, exasperated. "We came out here to lie low, you're not going to achieve anything by rising to Lucifer's bait."
"We're not going to achieve anything by hiding with our tails between our legs!" Dean replied angrily. "Come on, Sam, you're really going to let all those people die?"
"You were the one who said we should pick our battles, Dean," Sam reminded him. "And you were right. We're not ready to face Lucifer, and if you do anything stupid before we are ready, a lot more people are gonna die."
"Still, if you think I'm gonna--"
"Sam is right," Castiel interrupted him firmly. "You should go inside."
Dean turned to glare at him and snap, "You don't get to tell me what to do, Cas." He turned back to Sam. "And neither do you."
"We're asking, Dean," Sam said with a sigh. "Come on. Please. You know I'm right." Dean had never been good at saying no to Sam when he looked at him like that, all wide eyed and plaintive, and he gritted his teeth. The worst thing was, Sam was right, and Dean knew it. He couldn't play right into Lucifer's hand.
Still, he hesitated until Castiel said, "I will see what I can do about the demons in the area."
Dean narrowed his eyes. "If you get your angel ass hurt--"
"I won't," Castiel said, a bit disdainfully, and handed Dean the rest of his chocolate ice cream cone. Dean took it automatically, and then Castiel was gone.
"You want some ice cream?" Dean asked Sam, his worry for Castiel making it come out a bit more scathingly than he'd intended.
Sam eyed both ice cream cones and snorted. "Just come inside, okay?"
"Fine," Dean snapped, and stood up to push past Sam so he could get through the door. He ended up finishing the ice cream by himself in the kitchen, while he paced in agitation.
***
Dean spent most of the day throwing himself into research to distract himself from thinking about all the people he wasn't out there saving, wondering how the hell he was supposed to save the world, and being concerned for Castiel. It didn't work for him nearly as well as it apparently worked for Sam.
At least his concern for Castiel turned out to be unwarranted, though, because in the evening Dean looked out the window to see Castiel sitting on top of the Impala with his legs hanging over the side, watchful but perfectly fine. He breathed a little easier and decided he'd had enough of being indoors all day, so he went outside with a couple of beers.
But Castiel shook his head when Dean tried to hand him one and said tightly, "We have been too lax lately. We need to concentrate on the war." There was something different about him; something that reminded Dean of the old Castiel, all serious angel business and no fun and games. It wasn't a realization Dean enjoyed having.
He studied Castiel for a moment, but on the outside there was nothing about Castiel's appearance that gave Dean the impression he'd been out fighting demons all day, except for maybe the unruliness of his hair. So he opted to ask instead, "What's going on out there, Cas?"
"Nothing I can't deal with yet," Castiel replied vaguely, "but Lucifer will not be content to idle for long, and you cannot stay here forever. We will need to prepare ourselves."
"You think I don't know that?" Dean asked, unable to keep the irritation and frustration out of his voice. "It's been hanging over my head ever since you first told me I had to stop him, and no amount of cheesecake or chocolate or alcohol is ever gonna make me forget that, Cas, trust me."
Castiel looked down at him, and he seemed troubled. After awhile he confessed softly, "There were moments when I almost did forget."
It bled out Dean's irritation for the time being, and he sighed. "It's alright, Cas. I'm glad, actually. You deserve a break every once in awhile." He spared a second to be inwardly pleased that he could do that much for Castiel, at least, fleeting as it was.
"But Lucifer--"
"Is not going to drop dead even if we kill ourselves trying to kill him," Dean finished for him. "All we'll succeed in doing in that case is killing ourselves."
Castiel wasn't convinced. "We should try harder," he insisted.
And Dean agreed with him, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he had no idea where to even begin coming up with a plan to kill Lucifer. "What do you want me to do, Cas?" he snapped, because his irritation had returned along with his helplessness, and there was a lot more of it now. "If you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them, because I'm fresh out. We got here, and you've protected the house, but now what? I've just spent all day staring at old textbooks until my eyes went cross, but nobody ever wrote an instruction manual on how to kill the devil, because it's never been fucking done before. There aren't even stick figure diagrams! Sam and Bobby haven't found anything either, so tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."
"I don't know, Dean," said Castiel, clearly just as frustrated as Dean was. Then he lowered his eyes and repeated, more quietly and sounding kind of helpless himself, "I don't know."
Dean blew out a long breath, suddenly feeling unaccountably weary and trying his damnedest not to despair now that he'd finished ranting but not knowing how to have hope, especially when he dropped his gaze from Castiel's somber expression to glance at his own reflection, which stared back at him from the car window. The sun hadn't set yet, so Dean could see himself clearly. The man he saw was just some guy with freckles on his nose and a twenty in his back pocket. He was Dean, but Dean was a regular nobody; one ordinary person among six billion. How was he meant to save the world?
"I really think you've got the wrong guy, Cas," he said with a slight shake of the head, suddenly feeling small in a huge, huge world.
"No," Castiel replied above him, and some of his old assurednesss had returned. "You are the one who will stop it."
"How can you be so sure?" Dean asked, a little desperately. "What the hell do you see in me?" Because he was looking, but he couldn't see it. He was just Dean.
"I see you," Castiel said simply, but Dean didn't look up at him. "Dean Winchester."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Everything."
Dean rolled his eyes. Fucking angel with his fucking cryptic answers that didn't mean shit. They didn't make Dean feel better at all, but then suddenly Castiel was no longer sitting on the Impala but standing close behind him. Dean turned his head to look over his shoulder at him and Castiel said, "Have faith, Dean."
"In what?" Dean asked, barely above a whisper. "God's divine prophecy?"
Castiel glanced up at the sky for a moment and let out a long breath, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched it, but then he dropped his gaze again and met Dean's. "In yourself."
Dean sneered a little, bitterly, but when he turned to look at his reflection again, it was no longer alone in the window but had an angel over its shoulder, and that made him feel a tiny bit less hopeless, maybe. He still wasn't a superhero, but ordinary guys didn't have angels, right? Dean had one, and even though Castiel didn't seem to have faith in much of anything these days, apparently he still had faith in Dean, and the part of Dean that wasn't completely sure he'd let Castiel down was actually glad for that faith. At least one of them had it, and that had to be better than nothing.
They stared at each other's reflections for a long time, and when Dean next looked up, it was noticeably darker. "You should go back in," Castiel said.
"Right," Dean sighed, and glanced down at the two bottles of unopened beer that were still in his hand. He had a feeling Castiel's days of following him around and simply soaking up all the best human experiences Dean could offer him were over, and that came with a faint pang. "Whatever."
He turned without another glance at Castiel and trudged back inside to put the beers back in the fridge and then go upstairs to throw himself down onto his bed. Dean stared up at the shadows on the ceiling for a long time before restless sleep finally overcame him.
***
When Dean looked out his window the next morning, the Impala was still there but Castiel wasn't. Off fighting demons again, Dean supposed. It niggled at him, his concern for Castiel, but of course, Castiel eventually came back. It didn't stop him from worrying again the next day, though, and the day after that, silly as it was. Dean knew Castiel could take care of himself and wouldn't walk into any unnecessary danger, but he couldn't help wanting him around just so he could keep an eye on him. The sight of Castiel sitting on top of his car put Dean's mind at relative ease. Every day he couldn't help but think that if only Castiel would come back again that night, everything could be almost okay for a day longer. But when Castiel did come back, Dean always wondered if they were pushing their luck, and began worrying about the next day.
Sometimes Dean would go outside to lean against the Impala and talk with Castiel, but he'd been right when he'd guessed that Castiel wouldn't be much fun anymore. His expression varied from day to day in terms of how tight and drawn it was, and he did keep Dean updated on what was going on, for the most part, but Dean had a feeling he always downplayed the danger. So, he learned to judge the difficulty of Castiel's battles by how badly his hair was rumpled.
Things were still friendly between them, and they were still close in a way that let them be comfortable in each other's presence without having to say a word for long stretches of time, but still, sometimes Dean caught himself missing the Castiel that ate sweet things with him and teased him and occasionally even smiled at him. Castiel didn't smile anymore, and he always sat up on the top of the car, just out of reach. Dean didn't know why, but this bothered him, somehow, because he'd gotten used to Castiel being right there, always just a finger brush away. He wanted Castiel to be closer, more human, more his, and he wanted to touch Castiel and wipe away the increasingly haunted shadows under his eyes that may or may not have been Dean's imagination and make sure that he was really okay. Mostly, he just wanted to make Castiel smile again.
But Dean couldn't do any of those things -- he could barely even make Sam smile, these days, because the world was dying and Sam walked around with guilt as palpable as his own -- and after a week of this, he was going stir-crazy. He didn't want to be stuck in the house with books while Castiel was out there battling the endless onslaught of demons and Lucifer was out there destroying whole cities at a time, now, maybe just to spite him. Dean was a goddamned hunter, and he needed to hunt. The circular arguments he kept having with Sam over the issue only added to his frustration, and even Bobby had started telling him how important it was that he stay safe until they were ready. It was worst when Castiel said it, though, because Dean knew that Castiel could keep him here by force, if necessary.
He decided to test that theory out one day, after he'd just spent ten hours not being able to concentrate on a damned thing he'd read and snapping at both Sam and Bobby whenever they'd talked to him. His foul mood bled into the way he told Castiel, "I'm not your fucking prisoner, and I'm not Sam and Bobby's rebellious teenager, either. They actually ask me where I'm going when I leave the room, can you believe that?"
Castiel sighed as he regarded him. "They only want to keep you safe, Dean."
"I don't want to be kept safe," Dean snapped, his ire spiking. "It's supposed to be the other way around, me hunting and keeping others safe, remember? Not me sitting around like some goddamned invalid. You're the nerd, why don't you go read some friggin' books and let me take care of the demons for a change?"
"You cannot fight the demons in this town," Castiel said seriously. "They will only take you to Lucifer."
"Then let them!" Dean wasn't entirely sure that he meant it, but he also wasn't entirely sure he cared anymore. Even if his fight with Lucifer was pathetic and brief, at least he'd be doing something, and that was better than nothing.
Castiel's eyes narrowed in warning. "No."
Dean sneered at him and opened the car door on the driver's side, but before he could get in, Castiel had gotten off the car and slammed the door shut again, all in the blink of an eye. He stood between Dean and the Impala, challenging him, and Dean was furious enough to shove him up against the side of the car. Castiel flinched a little and Dean immediately felt guilty and started to pull away, but then Castiel seemed fine after his initial reaction and Dean stopped worrying about it because this was the closest they'd been to each other in over a week and he could see that the stress was wearing on Castiel. It hadn't put any more wrinkles in his face or grey hairs on his head, but still, Dean could tell from the tense weariness in his eyes as he looked up at Dean and the way he was letting Dean do whatever he wanted without putting up a fight. Dean wanted to make it go away, somehow, because Castiel had done enough for him and shouldn't have to keep fighting his battles, but he didn't know how to make it go away, and his fists clenched and unclenched in the lapels of Castiel's trench coat in frustrated inaction.
"Let me come with you, at least," Dean said eventually, a hint of pleading in his voice.
Castiel's calm expression didn't change one iota as he said, "No."
And even though Dean had been expecting that, it didn't make him any less angry. "Go to hell," he growled bitterly. Castiel lowered his gaze at that, and seemed to be looking down at where Dean's hands were still fisted in his clothes and pressing him against the car. Dean knew he should step back to give him some space, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of Castiel now that he finally had him right here, even though he still had no idea what to do with him. "I didn't mean it," he said after a beat.
Castiel lifted his eyes to Dean's again and he replied, "I know."
Dean wanted something here -- maybe to punch Castiel, maybe to smooth hands over his face, maybe to cling to him or hold him, but more likely it was all of those things or something else entirely, something nameless -- but whatever it was, it was dancing just out of his reach. He thought that if only Castiel stayed here with him for long enough then maybe he could figure it out, this compelling but elusive itch, and then he could scratch it and make everything a bit more bearable, but just as Dean opened his mouth to say something that might keep Castiel there, Castiel put a palm against his forehead and sent him hurtling back into Bobby's study.
The old man grunted in surprise, but it was drowned out when Dean swore in frustration and a strange sense of loss. He glared out the window at Castiel, but Castiel had resumed his spot on top of the Impala and was looking away from the house, up at the quickly darkening sky. Dean knew it would be useless to go back outside even if he'd wanted to.
So, maybe he couldn't quite put a finger on everything he wanted, but he did know that he wanted out, and no one was going to keep him here against his will, not even an angel. He just had to wait for an opening.
***
Dean was surprised that Castiel was still just outside the next day, sitting on the Impala right where he'd left him. Bastard was probably keeping an eye on him, Dean thought with a fresh wave of frustration. As if Sam and Bobby didn't already do enough of that.
What frustrated him even more was the fact that even though Castiel staying in Dean's sight should have eased his constant fretting a little, it was actually shooting his concentration to hell even more than his restlessness from the day before had. Dean couldn't read up on all the lore surrounding Michael's sword when he kept glancing up every few minutes, unbidden, to check that Castiel was still there.
He had half a mind to go out there and tell Castiel off, but the next time he looked out the window, Castiel was no longer alone. There was another guy there, and Dean tensed and would have studied him more closely, but his attention was drawn toward Castiel, who was now standing and facing the newcomer with what looked a lot like terror. It was an expression not even Lucifer had been able to put on Castiel's face, and Dean didn't need to know anything else.
He grabbed Ruby's knife and left the safety of the house without a thought for anything other than getting to Castiel. He didn't even pause to wonder if he should find Sam and Bobby for backup.
Dean kept the knife behind his back as he snuck up behind the intruder, and it was a mark of how distraught Castiel was that he barely even looked at Dean. His eyes were wide and trained on whoever the fuck Dean was seconds away from stabbing as the guy demanded in a sharp British accent, "Answer me, Castiel!" Thunderous power curled around his words in a way that wasn't unlike the way Lucifer spoke when he got angry, but this wasn't Lucifer.
Regardless of who it was, Dean tapped him on the shoulder and when the demon or angel or whatever turned, he said, "Answer to this, you son of a bitch." Then he plunged Ruby's knife straight into the vessel's heart and gave it a vicious twist.
"Dean!" Castiel yelled, sounding furious and panicked at the same time, but he didn't make a move.
The guy Dean had stabbed merely looked bemused as he glanced down at the handle of the knife protruding from his chest. Angel, then. Dean swore under his breath and braced himself for whatever was coming to him, but the angel only pulled the knife out of his chest and handed it back to Dean. He'd chosen a good looking guy -- short hair and sharp, militaristic features -- and he was shorter than both Dean and Castiel, but he was well built and raw power that had nothing to do with the vessel seemed to thrum around him. Dean took the knife back because it made him feel a bit more in control when he had a weapon in his hand, even a useless one, and swallowed nervously.
"Dean Winchester," the angel said, with some amusement, as he eyed Dean up and down. The casual appraisal made Dean feel uncomfortably like a piece of meat, but he didn't get to dwell on it because the bastard continued in his prissy British voice, "This is not how I expected our first meeting to go, but I hear you're full of surprises. I'm Michael."
Dean didn't choke, but it was a close thing. "Michael? What, the archangel?" The guy whose sword he'd been trying to read up on, even. The one who'd defeated Lucifer. Dean swallowed again.
Michael inclined his head in assent, but Dean was done being impressed with him because he looked over Michael's shoulder and saw that Castiel still looked mildly terrified. Then he realized why -- Lucifer had said that Michael and Gabriel had been sent to destroy Castiel after he'd rebelled, and Dean was suddenly furious because the son of a bitch had almost killed his Cas and then hadn't done a single fucking thing to stop Lucifer in the months since he'd risen. And now he was probably here to finish what he'd started, but if he thought Dean was going to let that happen, well, he would have to fucking think again. "You're here for Cas?" Dean growled dangerously.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel shift uncomfortably, but Dean ignored him. Michael arched an eyebrow and said, "Yes. But--"
But Dean didn't wait for it. He stabbed the fucker again.
"Dean," Castiel hissed again, and stepped toward them, but he suddenly froze mid-stride, looking helplessly furious, and Dean got the impression Michael was keeping him still with his mind even though the archangel hadn't turned to spare him a glance.
Dean could still move, though, and when Michael simply stared at him with a puzzled expression that seemed to demand he explain himself, he began angrily, "Why the fuck are you here when you should be out there killing Lucifer? Lost a bit of your touch, have you? Decided to pick on Cas instead of someone your own size, and for what, an ego stroke?" He sneered down at Michael, but not even his height advantage could make him feel anything but tiny and insignificant under that forceful stare that was beginning to look slightly annoyed. Still, Dean's bravado wasn't all false, because he still had his temper, and even though Michael opened his mouth to say something, Dean found he didn't want to hear it.
He continued, "I've got an idea for you, buddy, why don't you fuck off and leave Cas alone before I kick your ass? Bully someone who actually deserves it. Go save the world instead of waiting around for some human who doesn't have a chance in hell of winning against Lucifer to do it for you. You've got a big, shiny sword, right? Where is it, did it get lost somewhere up there in your ass when you were having drinks and popcorn with your old buddy Zach while you guys watched the rest of us run around trying to stop the apocalypse?"
Castiel made a muffled, strangled sound from where he still stood frozen, probably in an attempt to warn Dean about his impending death, but it wasn't like Dean couldn't tell it was coming from the way Michael narrowed his eyes at him. Instead of smiting him, though, the archangel only wrenched the knife out of his chest in an irritated gesture and handed it off to Castiel this time before simply disappearing.
"What did you think that would accomplish?" Castiel snapped at him the moment Michael was gone, as he crossed the distance between himself and Dean in the blink of an eye and crowded him threateningly.
Dean took an unconscious step back, eyes wide as he tried to wrap his mind around the sudden turn of events. It didn't take too long, and then he snapped back at Castiel and regained the ground he'd lost, bringing their faces only inches apart. "He nearly killed you, Cas! And then he left you to the demons, what the hell was I supposed to do, greet him with a smile and a fucking kiss?"
"No, but he's Michael," Castiel said, in a tone that made it quite clear how much he feared and respected him. Dean remembered the way he'd talked about archangels before, about how they were fierce and absolute and Heaven's most terrifying weapon, blah blah fanboy blah, and Michael was the big shot. Dean didn't give a damn.
"Yeah, well, until he does something impressive, like, say, kill Lucifer, he's just a glorified bully to me," he sneered.
"You will show him some respect!" Castiel hissed at him, actually surprising Dean with the strength of his anger. Dean had never seen him this worked up before, to the point where he was actually vibrating from it, and he had no idea why Castiel was like this now, except perhaps because the memories of what Michael had done to him might have put him on edge.
In any case, while Castiel might have intimidated Dean at one point, he couldn't anymore. Pissiness aside, Castiel was still his Cas, and Dean snorted and challenged, "Or what?"
Castiel made a small, angry noise in his throat and threw Ruby's knife down at Dean's feet before disappearing himself, which made Dean want to punch something. "Angels," he barked at the empty air in frustration, wondering what it was about those slippery sons of bitches that made it so impossible for them to stay and work things through instead of just blinking out at the first sign of an argument.
After a few moments of seething impotently out in the yard, though, two things occurred to Dean. The first was that no one was keeping an eye on him at the moment, and the second was that he had keys to the Impala on him, Ruby's knife, and a whole trunk full of weapons. After a quick glance around to make sure of the first point, Dean slid into the car as quietly as he could and drove off.
The freedom of sitting behind the wheel of his baby and the anticipation of finally being able to kill something pushed Castiel and Michael from Dean's mind, and he turned the music up when he hit the main road that led through town. His opening had come sooner than he'd expected.
***
At some point while Dean glanced around at the seven demons surrounding and closing in on him, though, he had to admit to himself that he might have bitten off a bit more than he could chew. He'd followed a lead he'd overheard Sam and Bobby discussing the day before, but they'd thought there were only two demons running this family diner. There were also five kids in the family, apparently, and all of them were black-eyed and menacing. It was too late to back out now, though, and Dean only had a moment to take stock of where all the doors and windows were before they were on him.
Dean managed to take out the first two with the knife, but one of the kids kicked him in the shin, hard enough to make him yelp. He was momentarily distracted, and the wife threw a punch to his throat that sent him flying backwards to crash against a table, where he lay wheezing in pain. Then he groped for his salt gun and fired off a few rounds to keep the demons at bay, but they vanished before any of the salt hit them and simply reappeared closer to him. Dean tried to sit up and slash at them with his knife, but the wife caught his wrist and pried the knife from his hand while the husband punched him in the stomach, twice. Right about then, Dean would have given up on holding onto his pride and called for Castiel if he hadn't been so winded, but he was winded, and he couldn't say a damned thing.
Right before he was about to be stabbed with his own knife, though, he heard Sam shout, "Dean!" and there were more rounds of salt being fired left and right.
Dean breathed in relief, and was about to get off the table and try to help, but then he saw that Castiel was there, too, taking out demons with even more deadly efficiency than usual, and figured that maybe he could take a break to rub his bruises.
All of the demons were either dead or gone in under a minute, mostly thanks to Castiel, and then Sam was at his side, all wide-eyed concern and making sure he was okay. Dean glanced past him at Castiel, who stayed where he was some ways off and stared back with a stony expression on his face that Dean wanted to smooth away, and closed his eyes briefly so he wouldn't have to look at it. He'd fucked up this time, but Dean opened his eyes again and gave Sam a small, tight smile. "I'm alright, Sam," he assured his brother, and didn't accept help walking out to the car. He was a bit battered and bruised, but it was nothing compared to some of the injuries he'd sustained before.
Castiel didn't join them on the drive back, and Sam didn't lecture him about sneaking out and almost getting killed, but Dean was still kind of ashamed of himself for botching up such a simple hunt and proving right their assessment that he was best off locked away in Bobby's house.
"Dean--" Sam began when they neared the house, but Dean shook his head.
"I know, Sam," he cut in with his lips pursed. "You don't have to say it."
Sam rolled his eyes. "No, I mean, I was gonna say, I don't think being at Bobby's is accomplishing anything. We've gone through all the books he has on Heaven and Hell and haven't found anything, so we should hit the road again soon."
Dean blinked and glanced over at him, surprised and more than a bit hopeful. "You think that?"
"What, you think I haven't noticed that you've been going stir-crazy?"
"But what happened to needing to stay safe, blah blah blah?" Dean asked dubiously.
Sam snorted. "Is this what you call 'staying safe'?" Dean looked away, embarrassed, and Sam continued, "Look, I'm sure we can figure something out that doesn't involve keeping you locked up, Dean." There was a pause before he muttered, "I know how that feels."
Dean felt a small pang of guilt, but mostly just a warm rush of affection for his stupid brother. This kid really was the best after all, and when Dean smiled at him, Sam glanced over and smirked. "I get to drive and pick the music, though."
"No," Dean said automatically, with a glare that he only hoped was intimidating.
Sam wasn't intimidated, and when they pulled up to a stop in front of Bobby's house, he insisted, "Yes! Come on, Dean."
"No!"
They stared at each other, and then, at the same time, held out their fists for a rock-paper-scissors contest. Dean picked scissors and lost (again), and swore at the same time that Sam whooped in triumph. He tried to cuff his little brother over the ear, but Sam ducked, laughed, and opened his door to escape.
Dean watched his retreating hulk with a small smile, and then sighed and climbed out of the car himself to sit on the hood and wait for Castiel, because even though he shouldn't care, the thought that Castiel might actually be pissed at him bothered Dean. And he wanted to make sure Castiel was okay, too, because he hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him at all after the Michael incident.
He sat there quietly for well over an hour before Castiel appeared, looking even more worn and fidgety and unhappy than usual.
"Hey, Cas," Dean said, trying to sound as conciliatory as possible. "You alright?"
Castiel's eyes narrowed at him and for a second Dean thought he might tell him to go inside where it was safe, but then Castiel asked, "What do you want?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Come on, Cas, you aren't really pissed at me, are you?"
Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line and asked, "Are you aware of how insolent, reckless, and annoying you are?"
Even though Dean tried not to smile, he couldn't quite help it. "Yes. But I'll make it up to you," he offered, running down his mental list of delicious things he still wanted to make Castiel try but then discarding it for something more simple. When Castiel didn't reply, Dean beckoned him over. "C'mere."
"Why?" Castiel tilted his head suspiciously.
"Cas," Dean wheedled, "just come here."
He was still sitting up on the hood of the Impala, and when Castiel approached to stand dubiously before him, Dean took him by the shoulder and turned him around, ignoring the way Castiel still felt a little shaky under his touch despite his efforts to hide it. Then he pulled Castiel back until he was leaning against the car, and Castiel simply let him even though he couldn't see him. He didn't even object when Dean slid his trench coat and suit jacket off of his shoulders. The implicit trust there warmed Dean, and he brought both of his hands up to Castiel's shoulders and began massaging them.
"Dean?" Castiel asked, voice suddenly small and kind of hesitant.
"Shhh, just relax," Dean told him as his hands worked at Castiel's tense muscles. "And stop being pissed at me."
Castiel huffed but did relax a bit under his hands, especially when Dean moved up to the back of his neck to rub small circles there. He let his hands roam all over Castiel's neck and shoulders, massaging firmly but slowly and thoroughly, and he could feel the vibrating tension slowly bleed out of Castiel's body. They were both quiet, but after several minutes Castiel told him, "You're still insolent and reckless."
But at least he wasn't annoying anymore, which Dean felt was a small victory, and he grinned a bit. "I know."
It seemed to satisfy Castiel, because then he nodded and leaned in even further, between Dean's legs, and tilted his head back to rest it against Dean's chest with a small sigh of pleasure. His face was turned up to the sky, and was so close Dean could have counted his eyelashes if he'd wanted to, dark against his pale skin as he let his eyes fall shut and his expression go lax. Dean's hands kept working on Castiel's shoulders without pause, but his breath caught a little, because this was exactly what he'd wanted all this time. To have Castiel here with him again, melted into him like when Dean had held him and trusting Dean to take care of him and make him feel good. Dean reveled quietly in this moment and wanted it to last forever, but he also wanted more of it. He wanted to be even closer, to make Castiel feel even better, to hear him make that soft, pleased sound again.
Maybe he'd do it if Dean touched him more, all over, or even kissed him--
Dean jolted out of his thoughts and pushed Castiel away from him, hastily and a bit more roughly than he'd intended. Castiel turned to look at him, the question in his eyes mixing with something that looked like disappointment, and his lips parted to say something. Dean didn't want to look at his lips, though, so he said hastily, "Sorry. Just thought of something. I should go back in before Sam starts getting all mother hen on me again anyway." He got off the car as he talked, avoiding Castiel's gaze and pushing past him so he could hurry back to the house and be safe from those searching eyes.
As soon as Dean was inside and had closed the door, he leaned back against it and let out a shaky breath. His cheeks were hot with embarrassment, and Dean knew this one would take awhile to figure the fuck out.
Part 9
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-09-04 12:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 05:44 am (UTC)Amazing
Date: 2009-09-04 01:40 am (UTC)Re: Amazing
Date: 2009-09-04 05:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 01:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 05:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 01:45 am (UTC)Anyway, before i get commenting on this AMAZING chapter i i just have to say....hug and coffee sharing scenes = EPIC WIN and unbelivable adorableness <333
Ok...so first things first...chastisedbyBobby!Cas and giggling!Dean may just be the best things ever...but you see, then there's..more food sharing and ice cream this time which is also the best thing ever...so i'm at a loss. XD SO SO cute and i loved the fact that it just didn't bother Dean. OMG the cute-semi-wrestling-holding wrists and giggling killed me with it's awesomeness. And this time it was Sam's turn to come out and catch them and tell them off like mischeivious school kids. HAHA! So great.
I loved how antsy Dean was without Cas being there. The way that to us readers the reason for the events you've written...Dean feeling a need to do something but not knowing what, his wish for the fun loving Cas to come back and his extreme reaction to Michael (N.B WOOHOO there's Michael in this fic now too!!!)...are super obvious but for Dean he's like WTF is awesome!!
And then of course the penny drops. Holy crapola that was the hottest massage EVER! Just the fact that that's what Dean wanted to do...WOW! I don't know what to say..just wow! And then his realisation, and the huge HUH! moment...so well written, seriously!! But now, poor Dean. I fear a somewhat major freak out is on the cards....and Cas know doubt left all oblivious.
Phew! So yeah, AMAZING!!
Ok, i remembered more stuff...
THIS: Castiel didn't smile anymore, and he always sat up on the top of the car, just out of reach. Dean didn't know why, but this bothered him, somehow, because he'd gotten used to Castiel being right there, always just a finger brush away. He wanted Castiel to be closer, more human, more his, and he wanted to touch Castiel and wipe away the increasingly haunted shadows under his eyes that may or may not have been Dean's imagination and make sure that he was really okay. Mostly, he just wanted to make Castiel smile again.
= <33333 BEAUTIFUL!!
As was the description of the reflection of both Dean and Cas in the impala and how just having Cas standing there next to him gave Dean that little bit more strength and faith in himself. And finally, Sam and Dean brotherly bonding!!!! Thank you so much for that scene, especially the Rock Paper Scissors because that's has to be one of my favourite brotherly interactions!
Ok..i really think that is all now. I hope you can forgive me for not commenting before...and also for what has turned out to be an extremely long and rambling comment. I cannot wait for the next chapter XD
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Date: 2009-09-04 05:56 am (UTC)So, I guess you really like all the food sharing, huh? *grins* As I'm sure you've guessed, I have a huge soft spot for that as well. And hugs, too, because nobody needs hugs like that damned angel.
It's kind of a fine line between Dean being too oblivious and Dean being too understanding because I know where things are going and what's going on with Castiel, so I'm just really happy the Dean's journey side of things works for you!
I kind of also adore the image of Dean giving Castiel a massage to distract him from being mad at him, hahahha what a sneak. And I'm so glad you liked his moment of realization, too, yay! I always worry that the moment things start turning slashy, it's no longer going to be in character or whatever.
Anyway, I'm thrilled you liked the rest of it too, with the reflection and Sam and everything, seriously, THANK YOU so much for this amazing review! I am floored and totally grinning so hard right now, eeeeeeeee. :D :D :D ♥!
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Date: 2009-09-04 02:09 am (UTC)In fakeland, that would happen. But no doubt, there will be amazing angst in between. I love this story. I love this story so much, my dear.
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Date: 2009-09-04 06:49 am (UTC)Thank you so much! :D :D
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Date: 2009-09-04 02:59 am (UTC)And I agree with spacemonkey, you can't beat true love!
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Date: 2009-09-04 06:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 03:32 am (UTC)&& the last bit with Dean giving Cas a message....~FLAILS~ Totally love where their ~relationship~ is heading. :')
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Date: 2009-09-04 06:50 am (UTC)I also kind of adore the idea of Dean giving Cas a massage, heee.
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Date: 2009-09-04 03:37 am (UTC)So, so, this comment if probably going to be insanely long and fangirly and horribly rambling and I'm sorry for geeking out on you, BUT. I have four whole parts to squee over!
FIRST OF ALL:
Dean.
It's hard to write Dean, in Dean/Castiel, because he's an asshole, and he's blasphemous and he doesn't know how to fall in love, and he doesn't trust easy and he doesn't believe in Cas. He does, because it's Cas, but in a very real way he can't, because Cas believes in him and Dean CAN'T believe in himself, which means he thinks, on some level, that Castiel is fundamentally incorrect. And he would never let himself entertain the thoughts of romance with Cas because Cas is an angel and Dean is Dean.
Generally what this results in is an out-of-character Dean, a Dean wearing a Dean-like mask in order to make out with Castiel. And I'm okay with that, because, hey, hot angel lovin', but it doesn't make me think it's any likelier to happen in canon.
What you've done, though (and canon helped you with this), is made Castiel into the only thing that Dean knows how to love: Someone who needs his help, his protection, his teaching. You've let the piece of Castiel that needs Dean more than anything shine out, and let Dean see it.
The "only thing Dean knows how to love" thing brings me to the next point: Sam.
Sam often gets gypped in Dean/Cas fics. Either he doesn't appear at all, he's evil, or Dean gets so fed up with him so as he barely has a speaking role. Writers sometimes think that Dean can't possibly love Castiel as much as he clearly does if Sam is there to be loved as well.
But Sam is Sam. He's always been Sam, and he always will be Sam, and he's not going away and Dean is never going to stop loving him. And you've kept that intact, and managed to make him a part of Dean in a way that I think he really is, even in the scenes where he doesn't appear.
Lines like this:
"I mean, sure, it's the end of the world and all, shit happens, but sometimes a hot chick will buy you a drink, or your little brother will sleep through an entire night, or you'll save someone and they'll look at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened to them and thank you for it, or you'll discover that not all angels are dicks after all..."
Break my heart and make me grin with how Dean they are.
Thirdly: Castiel. I don't quite know how to explain just how much your Castiel has wormed his angelic little way into my heart. At first I was concerned because he seemed almost TOO broken to the point of almost being out of character (which is so easy a trap to fall into) but but but this part solved ALL of my worried because he gets mad at Dean and it's perfect.
Fourthly: Pacing.
It's interesting! Because I feel as if...if this weren't fanfiction of a TV show, the pacing wouldn't work at all for me. But it's paced precisely like a TV show. Not in terms of what happens in each chapter, but in terms of the major events of the plot? And that only adds to how canonical it feels. I don't even know if that's intentional, but well done anyways.
There are other bits and pieces, but mostly the requisite squees over the HUG, obviously, and the backrub, here.
And the COFFEE SCENE. Where his care for Cas is so offhand as to be instinctual. ::grins a lot::
For this part!
Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael, just. Holy crap. I sometimes forget that I am in love modern interpretations of angels in general, not just Castiel, and things like "militaristic features" make me SO HAPPY, and I freaking ADORE that he's British. Makes me think of Empires, and Imperialist bastards and and oh goodness. ::starts geeking out over angels and history and everything, now::
...::shuts up::
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Date: 2009-09-04 07:11 am (UTC)Dean: You know, I've had a lot of the same thoughts about Dean, actually. It's really pretty hard to reconcile the Dean on the show with a Dean who could fall in love with Cas, for the very reasons you mentioned. I actually gave this quite a bit of thought, how to make Dean come to love Castiel believably, because it's easy on Castiel's part, but not so much Dean's. And, well, that's exactly the conclusion I came to, that Dean needs to be needed, and he loves those who need to be loved by him. So really, you have no idea how excited it makes me to know that you've picked up on this enough to comment on it.
Sam: Will, of course, always have the #1 spot in Dean's heart, and is such an integral part of who Dean is that I can't help but feel his exclusion makes Dean automatically out of character, in most cases. I know I don't write him much, but I'm thrilled the mentions of him that are there work for you! \o/
Castiel: When this fic was originally conceived, it was meant to be a story about trauma recovery, because
In general, though, I find it more difficult to judge whether he's IC or OOC in post-s4 fics, because his rebellion stunt threw such a huge wrench into his entire life that it leaves millions of possibilities, none of which he's ever encountered or explored before, so who's to say what changes it'll bring about in his character until s5 comes along?
Pacing: Heh, it was not my intention to fit pacing with canon, and actually I don't really get the same impression as you do in that regard, but I'm very flattered and thrilled that you think so! I think the pacing is quite slow, but like I said, this was meant to be a slow recovery fic, so I guess that's unavoidable.
Michael: *grins* I'm SO RELIEVED you like him, he's as close to an OC as I've ever written, actually, and I adore the images you've associated with him. ♥
In conclusion: EPIC REVIEW IS EPIC, and I am unbelievably floored. THANK YOU x 100000, seriously, ILU. ♥♥♥!
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Date: 2009-09-04 03:47 am (UTC)Dean jolted out of his thoughts and pushed Castiel away from him
EEHEEHEEHEE FINALLY. Whee! I knew Dean was feeling some good old-fashioned sexual tension, I just knew it! *cuddles him* Yay! Not that I don't still love the frickin' slow pace that you have of Dean finally starting to clue into it, because I totally do.
And the ice cream scene was ADORABLE. Until Castiel started feeling guilty about staying outside with Dean, that is. I'm guessing that's why he's being so business-like/grumpy?
And ooh, is Dean going to angst about the kissing thing now? Sexually confused!Dean is one of the more fun Deans around!
Hee, this comment is less of a review and more of a random drive-by squee. But you know I loooove it!
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Date: 2009-09-04 07:16 am (UTC)Hmm, in my mind Castiel was business-like and grumpy because Lucifer has upped his game a little now (even though that only got a brief mention), and Dean having to take the measure of going into hiding kind of gave him a reality check. Plus, yes, like you said, since Dean can't spend any time with Castiel anymore without being outside of the wards, it makes Castiel guilty about the time they do spend together.
I haven't actually decided how much Dean will angst yet since these things always sort of go in whatever direction they want when I sit down to write them, but I'm sure there will be some, at least!
Anyway, eeee, THANK YOU for the lovely comment! ♥
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Date: 2009-09-04 04:01 am (UTC)Diabolically dirty thought of the fic: Yes, Dean, lick the ice cream. Lick it where the angel just licked, Dean, yesss. I kinda just creeped myself out O.o.
The rest was just so good; especially the massage/Dean's "kiss" reaction scene. The massage was just so perfectly seemingly non-sexual affection edging into a physical attraction that's keeps getting exponentially more compelling. In short, 'tis awesome :).
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Date: 2009-09-04 07:18 am (UTC)Aww, I LOVE that you think it gets more and more compelling, that's exactly what I was going for, thank you so much!
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Date: 2009-09-04 04:04 am (UTC)The scene at the beginning with Bobby lecturing Castiel and Dean giggling was perfect. I adore it so much.
The bit with the ice cream is made of win. It's such a fun little moment.
Everyone being over protective of Dean warms me as does Dean being so tense when Cas isn't around and then unsure of what it is he wants from Castiel exactly. And the stabbing of Michael is so many kinds of wonderful and oh so very Dean.
Also, I think I very nearly squeed at the fact that Dean is coming to think of Cas as his. This bit especially did it; the son of a bitch had almost killed his Cas. Oh, Dean.
And the end with the massage and Dean contemplating kissing Cas, then freaking out about it is just awesome and I can't wait for the next part to see how it's going to play out.
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Date: 2009-09-04 07:22 am (UTC)Heh, I always wanted to write Castiel getting lectured by a human, and Bobby just does it so well. XD
I'm so happy you liked the rest of it too, especially Dean's slow process of realization! It's always kind of tricky keeping him in character when there are any overt slash vibes, so it's so good to hear that you think it works. :D
And Dean being possessive of Cas is kind of one of my own favorite things, hee.
Anyway, THANK YOU so much for reading and liking this! :D :D
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Date: 2009-09-04 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 07:24 am (UTC)And let me just take a moment to squee about Olympia's fic here too. fjkdlsjfkdslfjs FAVORITE DEAN/CASTIEL FIC EVER. !!!
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Date: 2009-09-04 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 07:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 04:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 07:29 am (UTC)Hmm, Castiel's feelings are a lot more complicated, I think, due to his negative associations with sex etc. I kind of know how it will go, but I'm not sure which category it'll fall under, perhaps both? or neither?
Anyway, thank you SO MUCH, especially for the comment on Castiel's recovery from trauma! That was the whole point of this fic to begin with, actually, though it's grown into a bit more than that since the beginning. ♥
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Date: 2009-09-04 04:50 am (UTC):D
more likely it was all of those things or something else entirely, something nameless -- but whatever it was, it was dancing just out of his reach.
This is the point when I being screaming at my computer, "You want to kiss him! That's what you want to do!!!"
Maybe he'd do it if Dean touched him more, all over, or even kissed him--
:D :D :D
I love this fic SO MUCH! It has such a slow build that gets me into everyone's heads and it is perfect. Wonderful.
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Date: 2009-09-04 07:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 05:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 07:32 am (UTC)I always feel like I should write more Sam, but it's very heartening to know that even though I don't write much of him, the little bits that are there actually count. Thank you so much for saying that, and everything else, too! ♥
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Date: 2009-09-04 07:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 07:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-09-04 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 11:00 am (UTC)This is still great, and it's delightful reading Dean's thought process and how it's leading to angel kissing. I'm looking forward to freaked!out!Dean in the next part :D
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Date: 2009-09-04 09:53 pm (UTC)Thank you so much! I do hope you'll like the next bit. :D
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Date: 2009-09-04 09:54 pm (UTC)Thank you so much, whee!
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Date: 2009-09-04 01:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 01:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 09:56 pm (UTC)Can you blame Dean for wanting to be close to Cas? XD ♥
Thanks again, seriously, I always glee when you comment. :D
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Date: 2009-09-04 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 02:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 09:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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