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tracy_loo_whoYesterday I was gonna write more AIWWOW, but then I started listening to "Play Crack the Sky" by Brand New (this song always puts me in weird moods) and took a nap and when I woke up, I wrote this instead. SORRY. Posted because ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ibroketuesday and strangeandcharm said I should, but I dunno, I've slept on it now and I am still unsure. Whatever. Don't judge me.
Title: Without Which Not
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dub con? Severe mental... issues. I am not entirely sure how to warn for this fic, but suffice to say it's dark and mindfuck-y.
Word Count: ~3,100
Notes: This is possibly the most fucked up thing I've ever written, and definitely the strangest. Let me know if it doesn't make sense? :|
Summary: Castiel can never give up on Dean.
Dean hasn't made a sound since Sam said yes to Lucifer.
You're not sure how long it's been. Time means little to you anyway, and lately it's been moving strangely in a way you don't quite understand, almost like something has disrupted its flow and made it choppier, messier. You're not clear on everything that happened in the holes it's left behind; all you know is that something has shifted out of place, but you're not worried about time.
You're worried about Dean.
He's given up. He sits there in a chair all day with his vacant eyes fixed on the wall and doesn't speak, doesn't eat, doesn't even acknowledge anyone or anything with even the smallest response. It's like you aren't even there at all, hovering around him and trying to talk to him. Or maybe he's the one who isn't there.
You can't stand that. You want Dean to come back and fight. You need Dean to come back and fight, because he's not Dean if he's not fighting, and you need Dean because you gave up everything for him. Without him, you are nothing.
Chuck is saying something to you about Michael, but you don't want to hear it. Michael can't have Dean. He can't. If Michael takes Dean, you will lose him forever, because no human soul can come into contact with an archangel and survive unscathed. You saw Raphael's vessel. In Michael's case, that human soul might not survive at all, even if it is one as strong as Dean's, and the thought terrifies you completely. You tell Chuck that you will never let Michael take Dean. Chuck looks confused and unhappy, but you don't care.
The next time he tries to talk to you about Michael, you get angry. The world doesn't need Michael because Dean will come back and fight Lucifer, you're sure of it. That's just the way things have to go. You don't understand why Chuck doesn't have the kind of faith in Dean that you have.
When Chuck starts talking about Michael a third time, you shut him out completely. But later, when it's just you and Dean in the cabin, you're struck with the awful thought that maybe Chuck was talking about a prophecy. Maybe he has seen a vision of Michael taking Dean. The thought makes you panic.
You have to do something to stop it. You try to talk to Dean, to make him promise he won't say yes, but Dean isn't listening to you. For the first time, you worry that he might choose Michael over fighting after all.
Your only option, as far as you can see, is to find God before Dean gives in completely. You stopped searching two years ago because Dean needed you by his side, but now Dean needs God more than he needs you. God is the only one who can give him his Sammy back.
The only problem is, you're afraid Dean will say yes while you're gone. You eye Chuck and everyone else who sits with Dean suspiciously because you're worried they'll whisper things into his ear and convince him to let Michael in. Some of them may even try to manipulate him; you've seen how they look at him now, like he's useless but for his potential to be Michael's vessel. It makes you restless whenever anyone comes near Dean.
So, you decide you can't leave him with them while you're off searching for God. You put two fingers against Dean's forehead and take him halfway across the country, to a nondescript apartment that's long since been abandoned. They'll never find him here, and you didn't bring any cell phones.
Dean doesn't seem to notice the change in setting. He sits in his chair which you also brought along and stares at the new wall. After a moment's thought, you turn his chair so that he's facing a window. There isn't much of a view outside since this city is just as empty and bleak as the one you left, but at least it's more interesting than the dirty wallpaper with its faded yellow flowers. Dean hates that sort of wallpaper.
Before you leave, you want to make Dean eat something because he hasn't eaten anything in days. You find some year old canned food in the kitchen and heat it up in your hand, but as always, when you try to hand a bowl of it to Dean, he doesn't even look at the food. This time, you're not going to just let him refuse it. You take Dean's jaw between two fingers, open his mouth, and bring a spoonful up to it. To your surprise and delight, Dean eats it without fuss. He chews and swallows dutifully, and you feed him another spoonful, and then another, until it's all gone. The apartment has running water, somehow, and he even drinks a glass of it when you hold it up to his lips.
You smile at Dean and promise him that it's going to be okay, and that you'll take care of him, and that he won't have to fight anymore because you're going to find God and then he can have Sam back. All he has to do is not say yes. Dean doesn't reply, but your spirits are higher when you leave him.
When you come back empty handed twelve hours later, Dean has sullied himself where he sits. You sigh and clean him up with a thought, and then notice that his eyelids are drooping. You remember that in addition to not eating, he also hasn't been sleeping, so you carry him into the bedroom and deposit him gently on the bed. After a moment you cover him with the blanket, and he falls asleep almost instantly.
You stay by his bed because you're sure he'll have a nightmare, but he sleeps soundly through the night.
Dean's eyes open in the morning and he sullies himself again, but you clean him up again. Then you pull him into a sitting position and place some pillows behind his back so that he can rest against them comfortably while you feed him breakfast. When he's finished, you leave to resume your search for God.
It doesn't go any better than it did two years ago, but you don't give up. You can't. You promised Dean you would find Him, so of course you will. Days and weeks and months pass, and still you search, stopping only a couple of times a day to come back and tend to Dean's needs.
You talk to him when you're with him, even though he still never responds and always just stays there in the bed. Sometimes, though, you'll come back to find him lying down when you'd left him sitting, or sitting when you'd left him lying down. You draw hope from this, and also from the fact that Dean still hasn't said yes. He's waiting for you to find God. As long as he doesn't give up, you won't either, so you keep searching.
Then the other angels leave. It happens over the course of several days, but you can feel your brothers and sisters withdraw from this world, one by one, cutting you off from their divine presence until you can barely feel it at all anymore. You have no idea how many of them stayed, if any, or why they left.
In truth they forsook you years ago when you forsook them to side with Dean, but at least you could still sense them with you. Now there are no words to describe the despair you feel at being left so alone and desolate, possibly the last of your kind on Earth except for Lucifer. Actually, you can't feel Lucifer's presence either, but you're sure he's still out there somewhere.
That night, instead of sitting beside Dean's bed, you crawl in with him. He doesn't protest, not even when you press up against him and wrap his arms around yourself. You've never been more grateful for his company, and you bury your face in his neck.
By morning, something has occurred to you. If the angels are gone, then Michael won't try to take Dean anymore. This comes as a relief to you and you hug Dean possessively, but you promise him you'll keep searching anyway because he still hasn't come back to you yet and you know he won't until he gets Sam back.
As the days get colder, though, you get weaker. It becomes more and more difficult to fly anywhere, and one day, you simply can't do it anymore. You panic because you're two states away from Dean and in the several days it will take you to walk back to him, he will have no one to take care of him. But in the end, you resign yourself to walking because you have no choice. You're in the middle of a deserted town and haven't seen a single person all day, the buses stopped running years ago, and the very few people who do have cars never stop to take hitch hikers because in these times, no one can even trust their friends.
That's why you're so surprised when a man in a pickup pulls up beside you while you're walking and offers you a lift. You're immediately suspicious that he's a demon because with your Grace almost gone, no one looks like a demon to your eyes anymore, but he laughs and asks if you've been living under a rock. You don't reply, so he gets out, walks back to where there's a large bag of road salt in the bed of his truck, and sticks half his arm into it to prove his point. After that you believe him and climb into his truck, but aside from thanking him, you don't have much to say. The man takes you all the way back to your town even though it's slightly out of his way because he says you'll freeze otherwise in just your trench coat, and even though you can't really feel the cold yet, you let him believe what he wants to because it means you'll get back to Dean sooner.
By the time you do get back, it's well past midnight and Dean is huddled into a shivering ball in bed because you left the windows open that morning. You close them quickly and then climb into bed with Dean, murmuring apologies to him over and over again as he curls into you instinctively, seeking out your body heat. You're not apologizing for leaving him in the cold so much as you're apologizing for not being able to continue your search, but he doesn't seem to blame you, so you wrap the blanket securely around him and hold him through the night, long after he stops shivering and drifts off to sleep.
You start spending your days with Dean too since you have nowhere else to go and no means of traveling farther than a few miles. When you try to coax him out of bed, you find that he's perfectly capable of walking and will follow you anywhere as long as you lead him by the hand. He'll even use the toilet when you take him there, which you're grateful for especially when you stop being able to clean him with a thought. You learn how to bathe him in the shower and how to brush his teeth and how to dress him, and when the food you stored up for him begins to run low, a soup kitchen opens not too far from your apartment. This development surprises you because you have no idea how they're able to keep it running when the world is ending, but you're hardly about to complain. You're slowly beginning to need food too.
All in all, you and Dean are getting by okay despite your descent into the ranks of humanity.
But he still won't come out of his stupor no matter how much you beg him to, and it tears you apart because now you can't even count on finding God to bring him back. You have no more ideas about how to do it except to beg him. To make him feel loved and cherished because that's all he ever wanted, really. He wanted his family to love and cherish him but his parents died and his brother chose Lucifer over him. You're not sure if he ever wanted you to love and cherish him, but you do, you do, above all else and to the exclusion of all else, and you keep thinking that if only you can make him see how true it is, he'll be moved to come back to you. He has to.
It hasn't worked so far. You can shout in his face that you love and need him until you're hoarse and he still won't even look at you. The only times you ever elicit any responses from Dean at all are when you're taking care of him in some physical capacity, which makes you realize that he only responds to tactile stimuli.
So one day, you kiss him.
Dean doesn't quite kiss you back, per se, but he does open his mouth and his lips and tongue move slightly to accommodate yours. It's something, at least, and you're grateful for everything you can get. So you keep kissing him and kissing him and kissing him and whispering over and over into his mouth that you love him, and he keeps letting you.
When he gets hard, you don't hesitate to take care of him because you've been taking care of all of his physical needs for months now, so you don't see why this one should be the exception. You take off his clothes and have to admit that you're a little curious as you wrap your hand around him and squeeze. Dean bucks up into your fist, and the more you stroke him, the harder he pants and writhes. He even grunts low in his throat when he comes in your hand, and it's the first sound he's made since Sam said yes to Lucifer. You're absolutely enthralled, and your hope spikes higher than ever.
After that, you pleasure Dean as often as he can stand it just to hear the noises he makes, just to have him moving against you, feeling alive and responsive. Wanting you. You always tell him you love him when he comes, and sometimes he curls up around you afterward of his own accord. You don't stop telling him how much you love him, and you don't stop hoping that the next time you say it, he'll care.
Then the day comes when you want to show him how much you love him in an even more intimate way, so you find some oil to coat your fingers with and Dean is perfectly fine with you opening him up and stretching him. After awhile, he even seems to enjoy it. You take your time because you don't want to hurt him, and your patience pays off because when you finally push into him, Dean is pliant under you and even makes a soft sound of pleasure. It doesn't take long to learn what Dean likes best, and you hit that spot on every thrust as you stroke him with one hand. When Dean comes, he moans louder than he ever has before and you come too, for the very first time, deep inside his body. You hold him close for hours afterward and beg him to come back to you.
He doesn't, but the closest you get to being able to pretend he does is when you coax him into fucking you. It's a little tricky since Dean is so passive -- he only ever reacts, never initiates -- but you find that if you tease him enough, he'll get up, follow your hand, and try to grab you and rub himself against you. So all you have to do is back into him and guide him to where you want him to be, and he finally thrusts into you.
It hurts. Dean isn't slow and gentle with you like you are with him. He's all carnal instinct, and he bucks and rocks into you with no regard for your pleasure, only his own. You don't mind, because Dean actively wanting you in any way at all is well worth any amount of pain, even if you've long since lost the ability to heal yourself. After Dean finishes, he's the one who holds on to you, and you enjoy every moment of it.
That's the first night you ever fall asleep, and it's so disorienting that you have a moment of panic when you wake up to Dean trying to push into you again. You're so surprised you shove him away hard before you can even string together a thought, but then he curls in on himself like he's scared and you're immediately sorry. So you wrap your arms around him and whisper soothing things to him, and you let him fuck you again even though you're still hurting because he wants to and because you want to encourage him to take what he wants. You love him, after all. And you're grateful that what he wants is you; it gives you hope.
Over the next few months a lot of new buildings start popping up around town and the population increases noticeably. You distantly register this as strange but have no interest in anything or anyone except for Dean, so you never stop to talk to anyone on your way to or from the soup kitchen.
The only thing that catches your attention is when a church throws open its brand new doors. You pause because inside is a large tapestry depicting none other than Dean Winchester, and all the people gathered are gazing upon it reverently. For a moment you have no idea what's going on, especially since Dean has a sword in the tapestry that stirs a familiar feeling, somehow, but you're sure you've never seen him carry it. Then you wonder if these people have come to take Dean away from you, and you forget about the sword because you're hurrying back home with your heart in your throat.
Dean is still there, to your utter relief, and he kisses you when you walk in the door. You immediately close all the blinds in the apartment, and then you and Dean fall into bed together. He stares up at you with vacant eyes as you thrust into his body, over and over and over, and tell him that you love him, over and over and over.
fin.
ibroketuesday and strangeandcharm said I should, but I dunno, I've slept on it now and I am still unsure. Whatever. Don't judge me.Title: Without Which Not
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dub con? Severe mental... issues. I am not entirely sure how to warn for this fic, but suffice to say it's dark and mindfuck-y.
Word Count: ~3,100
Notes: This is possibly the most fucked up thing I've ever written, and definitely the strangest. Let me know if it doesn't make sense? :|
Summary: Castiel can never give up on Dean.
Dean hasn't made a sound since Sam said yes to Lucifer.
You're not sure how long it's been. Time means little to you anyway, and lately it's been moving strangely in a way you don't quite understand, almost like something has disrupted its flow and made it choppier, messier. You're not clear on everything that happened in the holes it's left behind; all you know is that something has shifted out of place, but you're not worried about time.
You're worried about Dean.
He's given up. He sits there in a chair all day with his vacant eyes fixed on the wall and doesn't speak, doesn't eat, doesn't even acknowledge anyone or anything with even the smallest response. It's like you aren't even there at all, hovering around him and trying to talk to him. Or maybe he's the one who isn't there.
You can't stand that. You want Dean to come back and fight. You need Dean to come back and fight, because he's not Dean if he's not fighting, and you need Dean because you gave up everything for him. Without him, you are nothing.
Chuck is saying something to you about Michael, but you don't want to hear it. Michael can't have Dean. He can't. If Michael takes Dean, you will lose him forever, because no human soul can come into contact with an archangel and survive unscathed. You saw Raphael's vessel. In Michael's case, that human soul might not survive at all, even if it is one as strong as Dean's, and the thought terrifies you completely. You tell Chuck that you will never let Michael take Dean. Chuck looks confused and unhappy, but you don't care.
The next time he tries to talk to you about Michael, you get angry. The world doesn't need Michael because Dean will come back and fight Lucifer, you're sure of it. That's just the way things have to go. You don't understand why Chuck doesn't have the kind of faith in Dean that you have.
When Chuck starts talking about Michael a third time, you shut him out completely. But later, when it's just you and Dean in the cabin, you're struck with the awful thought that maybe Chuck was talking about a prophecy. Maybe he has seen a vision of Michael taking Dean. The thought makes you panic.
You have to do something to stop it. You try to talk to Dean, to make him promise he won't say yes, but Dean isn't listening to you. For the first time, you worry that he might choose Michael over fighting after all.
Your only option, as far as you can see, is to find God before Dean gives in completely. You stopped searching two years ago because Dean needed you by his side, but now Dean needs God more than he needs you. God is the only one who can give him his Sammy back.
The only problem is, you're afraid Dean will say yes while you're gone. You eye Chuck and everyone else who sits with Dean suspiciously because you're worried they'll whisper things into his ear and convince him to let Michael in. Some of them may even try to manipulate him; you've seen how they look at him now, like he's useless but for his potential to be Michael's vessel. It makes you restless whenever anyone comes near Dean.
So, you decide you can't leave him with them while you're off searching for God. You put two fingers against Dean's forehead and take him halfway across the country, to a nondescript apartment that's long since been abandoned. They'll never find him here, and you didn't bring any cell phones.
Dean doesn't seem to notice the change in setting. He sits in his chair which you also brought along and stares at the new wall. After a moment's thought, you turn his chair so that he's facing a window. There isn't much of a view outside since this city is just as empty and bleak as the one you left, but at least it's more interesting than the dirty wallpaper with its faded yellow flowers. Dean hates that sort of wallpaper.
Before you leave, you want to make Dean eat something because he hasn't eaten anything in days. You find some year old canned food in the kitchen and heat it up in your hand, but as always, when you try to hand a bowl of it to Dean, he doesn't even look at the food. This time, you're not going to just let him refuse it. You take Dean's jaw between two fingers, open his mouth, and bring a spoonful up to it. To your surprise and delight, Dean eats it without fuss. He chews and swallows dutifully, and you feed him another spoonful, and then another, until it's all gone. The apartment has running water, somehow, and he even drinks a glass of it when you hold it up to his lips.
You smile at Dean and promise him that it's going to be okay, and that you'll take care of him, and that he won't have to fight anymore because you're going to find God and then he can have Sam back. All he has to do is not say yes. Dean doesn't reply, but your spirits are higher when you leave him.
When you come back empty handed twelve hours later, Dean has sullied himself where he sits. You sigh and clean him up with a thought, and then notice that his eyelids are drooping. You remember that in addition to not eating, he also hasn't been sleeping, so you carry him into the bedroom and deposit him gently on the bed. After a moment you cover him with the blanket, and he falls asleep almost instantly.
You stay by his bed because you're sure he'll have a nightmare, but he sleeps soundly through the night.
Dean's eyes open in the morning and he sullies himself again, but you clean him up again. Then you pull him into a sitting position and place some pillows behind his back so that he can rest against them comfortably while you feed him breakfast. When he's finished, you leave to resume your search for God.
It doesn't go any better than it did two years ago, but you don't give up. You can't. You promised Dean you would find Him, so of course you will. Days and weeks and months pass, and still you search, stopping only a couple of times a day to come back and tend to Dean's needs.
You talk to him when you're with him, even though he still never responds and always just stays there in the bed. Sometimes, though, you'll come back to find him lying down when you'd left him sitting, or sitting when you'd left him lying down. You draw hope from this, and also from the fact that Dean still hasn't said yes. He's waiting for you to find God. As long as he doesn't give up, you won't either, so you keep searching.
Then the other angels leave. It happens over the course of several days, but you can feel your brothers and sisters withdraw from this world, one by one, cutting you off from their divine presence until you can barely feel it at all anymore. You have no idea how many of them stayed, if any, or why they left.
In truth they forsook you years ago when you forsook them to side with Dean, but at least you could still sense them with you. Now there are no words to describe the despair you feel at being left so alone and desolate, possibly the last of your kind on Earth except for Lucifer. Actually, you can't feel Lucifer's presence either, but you're sure he's still out there somewhere.
That night, instead of sitting beside Dean's bed, you crawl in with him. He doesn't protest, not even when you press up against him and wrap his arms around yourself. You've never been more grateful for his company, and you bury your face in his neck.
By morning, something has occurred to you. If the angels are gone, then Michael won't try to take Dean anymore. This comes as a relief to you and you hug Dean possessively, but you promise him you'll keep searching anyway because he still hasn't come back to you yet and you know he won't until he gets Sam back.
As the days get colder, though, you get weaker. It becomes more and more difficult to fly anywhere, and one day, you simply can't do it anymore. You panic because you're two states away from Dean and in the several days it will take you to walk back to him, he will have no one to take care of him. But in the end, you resign yourself to walking because you have no choice. You're in the middle of a deserted town and haven't seen a single person all day, the buses stopped running years ago, and the very few people who do have cars never stop to take hitch hikers because in these times, no one can even trust their friends.
That's why you're so surprised when a man in a pickup pulls up beside you while you're walking and offers you a lift. You're immediately suspicious that he's a demon because with your Grace almost gone, no one looks like a demon to your eyes anymore, but he laughs and asks if you've been living under a rock. You don't reply, so he gets out, walks back to where there's a large bag of road salt in the bed of his truck, and sticks half his arm into it to prove his point. After that you believe him and climb into his truck, but aside from thanking him, you don't have much to say. The man takes you all the way back to your town even though it's slightly out of his way because he says you'll freeze otherwise in just your trench coat, and even though you can't really feel the cold yet, you let him believe what he wants to because it means you'll get back to Dean sooner.
By the time you do get back, it's well past midnight and Dean is huddled into a shivering ball in bed because you left the windows open that morning. You close them quickly and then climb into bed with Dean, murmuring apologies to him over and over again as he curls into you instinctively, seeking out your body heat. You're not apologizing for leaving him in the cold so much as you're apologizing for not being able to continue your search, but he doesn't seem to blame you, so you wrap the blanket securely around him and hold him through the night, long after he stops shivering and drifts off to sleep.
You start spending your days with Dean too since you have nowhere else to go and no means of traveling farther than a few miles. When you try to coax him out of bed, you find that he's perfectly capable of walking and will follow you anywhere as long as you lead him by the hand. He'll even use the toilet when you take him there, which you're grateful for especially when you stop being able to clean him with a thought. You learn how to bathe him in the shower and how to brush his teeth and how to dress him, and when the food you stored up for him begins to run low, a soup kitchen opens not too far from your apartment. This development surprises you because you have no idea how they're able to keep it running when the world is ending, but you're hardly about to complain. You're slowly beginning to need food too.
All in all, you and Dean are getting by okay despite your descent into the ranks of humanity.
But he still won't come out of his stupor no matter how much you beg him to, and it tears you apart because now you can't even count on finding God to bring him back. You have no more ideas about how to do it except to beg him. To make him feel loved and cherished because that's all he ever wanted, really. He wanted his family to love and cherish him but his parents died and his brother chose Lucifer over him. You're not sure if he ever wanted you to love and cherish him, but you do, you do, above all else and to the exclusion of all else, and you keep thinking that if only you can make him see how true it is, he'll be moved to come back to you. He has to.
It hasn't worked so far. You can shout in his face that you love and need him until you're hoarse and he still won't even look at you. The only times you ever elicit any responses from Dean at all are when you're taking care of him in some physical capacity, which makes you realize that he only responds to tactile stimuli.
So one day, you kiss him.
Dean doesn't quite kiss you back, per se, but he does open his mouth and his lips and tongue move slightly to accommodate yours. It's something, at least, and you're grateful for everything you can get. So you keep kissing him and kissing him and kissing him and whispering over and over into his mouth that you love him, and he keeps letting you.
When he gets hard, you don't hesitate to take care of him because you've been taking care of all of his physical needs for months now, so you don't see why this one should be the exception. You take off his clothes and have to admit that you're a little curious as you wrap your hand around him and squeeze. Dean bucks up into your fist, and the more you stroke him, the harder he pants and writhes. He even grunts low in his throat when he comes in your hand, and it's the first sound he's made since Sam said yes to Lucifer. You're absolutely enthralled, and your hope spikes higher than ever.
After that, you pleasure Dean as often as he can stand it just to hear the noises he makes, just to have him moving against you, feeling alive and responsive. Wanting you. You always tell him you love him when he comes, and sometimes he curls up around you afterward of his own accord. You don't stop telling him how much you love him, and you don't stop hoping that the next time you say it, he'll care.
Then the day comes when you want to show him how much you love him in an even more intimate way, so you find some oil to coat your fingers with and Dean is perfectly fine with you opening him up and stretching him. After awhile, he even seems to enjoy it. You take your time because you don't want to hurt him, and your patience pays off because when you finally push into him, Dean is pliant under you and even makes a soft sound of pleasure. It doesn't take long to learn what Dean likes best, and you hit that spot on every thrust as you stroke him with one hand. When Dean comes, he moans louder than he ever has before and you come too, for the very first time, deep inside his body. You hold him close for hours afterward and beg him to come back to you.
He doesn't, but the closest you get to being able to pretend he does is when you coax him into fucking you. It's a little tricky since Dean is so passive -- he only ever reacts, never initiates -- but you find that if you tease him enough, he'll get up, follow your hand, and try to grab you and rub himself against you. So all you have to do is back into him and guide him to where you want him to be, and he finally thrusts into you.
It hurts. Dean isn't slow and gentle with you like you are with him. He's all carnal instinct, and he bucks and rocks into you with no regard for your pleasure, only his own. You don't mind, because Dean actively wanting you in any way at all is well worth any amount of pain, even if you've long since lost the ability to heal yourself. After Dean finishes, he's the one who holds on to you, and you enjoy every moment of it.
That's the first night you ever fall asleep, and it's so disorienting that you have a moment of panic when you wake up to Dean trying to push into you again. You're so surprised you shove him away hard before you can even string together a thought, but then he curls in on himself like he's scared and you're immediately sorry. So you wrap your arms around him and whisper soothing things to him, and you let him fuck you again even though you're still hurting because he wants to and because you want to encourage him to take what he wants. You love him, after all. And you're grateful that what he wants is you; it gives you hope.
Over the next few months a lot of new buildings start popping up around town and the population increases noticeably. You distantly register this as strange but have no interest in anything or anyone except for Dean, so you never stop to talk to anyone on your way to or from the soup kitchen.
The only thing that catches your attention is when a church throws open its brand new doors. You pause because inside is a large tapestry depicting none other than Dean Winchester, and all the people gathered are gazing upon it reverently. For a moment you have no idea what's going on, especially since Dean has a sword in the tapestry that stirs a familiar feeling, somehow, but you're sure you've never seen him carry it. Then you wonder if these people have come to take Dean away from you, and you forget about the sword because you're hurrying back home with your heart in your throat.
Dean is still there, to your utter relief, and he kisses you when you walk in the door. You immediately close all the blinds in the apartment, and then you and Dean fall into bed together. He stares up at you with vacant eyes as you thrust into his body, over and over and over, and tell him that you love him, over and over and over.
fin.
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no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:22 pm (UTC)Curse you for making me a fan of somnophilia. Curse you!
Also, if that's the most fucked-up thing you've ever written, you've obviously completely wiped The Forty-First Year out of your head. ^_^
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:24 pm (UTC)Hahhaha, maybe that one's more fucked up, I'm not sure. But at least it ended better. ish. :P
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:32 pm (UTC)I really like that line.
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:34 pm (UTC)Well done! <3
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:48 pm (UTC)but -- I also feel very stupid because I couldn't understand what's going on with the tapestry and the church and the people and....
can you please explain that?
Sorry....
(i have an idea but I really am feeling extremely stupid right now...)
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:49 pm (UTC)hrrg goddammit fix hiiimmm
::needs happy!fic now::
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:49 pm (UTC)very well done, as usual my pretty sadist! *gives you a little black crown*
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:50 pm (UTC)edit: now the part with the church makes sense! haha.
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:51 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it anyway, though, thank you!
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:54 pm (UTC)Dean is unfixable, sorry, Castiel did say it would be much worse for him than it was for Raphael's vessel.. :(
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:55 pm (UTC)*giggles*
No, I really liked it. Poor, poor Castiel. And poor Dean - but at least he has Cas to take care of him...
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:56 pm (UTC)Dean isn't even there anymore, just an empty vessel..
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Date: 2009-11-08 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 05:57 pm (UTC)Castiel tries so hard, and that is absolutely the worst part. Believing that Dean can't come back to him because he's choosing Sam. *sad sigh*
I was hoping I'd get some resolution to this question at the end, but it didn't come, so maybe I can ask? Did Castiel choose to forget the time Michael was possessing Dean? (I mean to say, was it a sufficiently traumatizing experience for him?) Or did Michael whammy him into forgetting? And if he did, why?
ETA: Reading over other comments, I'd like to put in my two cents to say that the reveal was perfect and I understood exactly where you were going from the beginning. It was a nice build, the foreshadowing was great, and I was with you every step of the way. I'd count this as a success.