The Question
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all the characters from Supernatural are not mine.
Title: The Question
Pairing: pre Dean/Castiel
Rating: G
Summary: Dean is asking the wrong question.
Notes: This began as an idea and I just need to write this down before I lost it. It's incomplete and I'm not happy with the format, But at the moment I'm not really sure where this piece will go or what shape it will took or even where it fits in the canon timeline. Maybe between season 4 and season 5. Maybe... Also, I'm not a native speaker so grammatical errors might ensued.
Key: Dean, Castiel, Dean's motion, Castiel's motion
The Question
Why me Cas? Why saved me?
You're asking the wrong question Dean.
Just answer the damn question!
A look of disapproval.
Sigh of desperation.
Please... I need an answer. Without knowing, I don't think I can go on.
You've always moved on. You've always pulled through everything the universe throws at you.
A bitter chuckle.
Yeah, sure I pulled through. I mean, hey, what haven't the universe throws at me? Heck, I've been to hell and back, thanks to you. After all, you're the one who gripped me tight and raised me from perdition.
A rueful laugh, soon turned into a choked sob.
a slight rustle as the angel stepped closer to The Righteous Man.
Hands raised up defensively.
Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space?
You'll be fine. You'll get through this.
An anguish groan.
Not this time, not any more. Not like this...
Like what Dean?
A huff. A shrug.
Lost? Scared? Clueless?
A confused look.
But you've felt those before.
A snort.
Yeah, but never in the biblical apocalyptic proportion!
Eyes squinted. An intense stare that pierced the soul.
You're asking the wrong question.
Emphasizing tone.
I told you before, God has work for you. My Father chose you. He sent thousands of angels to lay siege on hell, to try ro get you out. None of them succeeded. Thousands of angels and none succeeded. But for some reason, I made it. I pulled you out. Me.
Hand reached out, palm pressed against the beating heart.
My Father chose you for you are The Righteous Man. You're important. Your soul is important.
A moment of silent.
The real question, Dean, is why you chose me? Why did your soul choose me?
A sudden gasp.
Think about it.
Wing rustled and the angel was gone.
Title: The Question
Pairing: pre Dean/Castiel
Rating: G
Summary: Dean is asking the wrong question.
Notes: This began as an idea and I just need to write this down before I lost it. It's incomplete and I'm not happy with the format, But at the moment I'm not really sure where this piece will go or what shape it will took or even where it fits in the canon timeline. Maybe between season 4 and season 5. Maybe... Also, I'm not a native speaker so grammatical errors might ensued.
Key: Dean, Castiel, Dean's motion, Castiel's motion
The Question
Why me Cas? Why saved me?
You're asking the wrong question Dean.
Just answer the damn question!
A look of disapproval.
Sigh of desperation.
Please... I need an answer. Without knowing, I don't think I can go on.
You've always moved on. You've always pulled through everything the universe throws at you.
A bitter chuckle.
Yeah, sure I pulled through. I mean, hey, what haven't the universe throws at me? Heck, I've been to hell and back, thanks to you. After all, you're the one who gripped me tight and raised me from perdition.
A rueful laugh, soon turned into a choked sob.
a slight rustle as the angel stepped closer to The Righteous Man.
Hands raised up defensively.
Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space?
You'll be fine. You'll get through this.
An anguish groan.
Not this time, not any more. Not like this...
Like what Dean?
A huff. A shrug.
Lost? Scared? Clueless?
A confused look.
But you've felt those before.
A snort.
Yeah, but never in the biblical apocalyptic proportion!
Eyes squinted. An intense stare that pierced the soul.
You're asking the wrong question.
Emphasizing tone.
I told you before, God has work for you. My Father chose you. He sent thousands of angels to lay siege on hell, to try ro get you out. None of them succeeded. Thousands of angels and none succeeded. But for some reason, I made it. I pulled you out. Me.
Hand reached out, palm pressed against the beating heart.
My Father chose you for you are The Righteous Man. You're important. Your soul is important.
A moment of silent.
The real question, Dean, is why you chose me? Why did your soul choose me?
A sudden gasp.
Think about it.
Wing rustled and the angel was gone.