Fic: Supernatural: Dean/Future Cas: The Long Road Back (13/28)
Special thank you to weslyn For helping me a lot on understanding addiction, and for being an awesome beta.
Title: The Long Road Back
Author: Nicole
Rating: R (maybe NC-17 later to be safe)
Chapters: 13/28 (i'm still doing a lot of editing so this might change a bit)
Warnings: gore,language,violence, drug use, eventual slash
Spoilers: only up to 5 X 4 (but you'll see me draw from information we found out later)
Characters/Pairings: focus on Dean/Future Cas but also Risa, Chuck, OC's, LuciferSam, and future Dean.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine and I don't own anything but the errors.
Summary: AU 5 X 04 The End fic. In many ways this will be a fix it story (but not in all ways). Dean stops his future self from sending Cas and the others into a trap and Zachariah seems to be missing in action. Dean has to figure out where to go from here.
A/N: This fic has been consuming my brain in a good way. I really wanted to play around in this world, i love apocalyptic type settings, and i thought it would be a good way to keep myself busy during the hiatus. This story is going to have action,violence, and some death but the focus of this fic will be a slowly evolving love story in the middle of a world gone to hell between a certain hunter and a certain fallen angel. If you have a problem with that, don't read it.
Word count: 2190 (45,000 total)
Chapter One Chapter Eight
Chapter Two Chapter Nine
Chapter Three Chapter Ten
Chapter Four Chapter Eleven
Chapter Five Chapter Twelve
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Cas’s entire body started to tremble as the adrenaline high he’d been riding started to wear off. He struggled to keep the wheel steady.
His hands were shaking and he felt nauseas. Cas’s chest tightened and it got harder to breathe.
Cas slammed on the brakes, he needed out, he needed air. He ripped the door open ignoring Mike’s cries of alarm and leapt from the truck. He stumbled forwards several feet on the cracked pavement, then fell to his knees drawing in huge gulps of air that never seemed to be enough.
Mike came up behind him, his steps tentative.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” he hedged.
Cas ignored the stirrings of emotions the mention of Bobby caused within him. He ignored the little voice that whispered he’s dead. Cas swallowed it all down and buried it deep within himself. Now was not the time to go there. He couldn’t think about Bobby and make it back to the camp.
Cas pressed his hands to his temples trying to blot out the feeling that someone was screaming over and over in his head.
He heard the sound of Mike rummaging through something.
More tentative steps forward.
“This might help.”
Cas looked up, Mike was holding something in his outstretched hands.
A bottle.
Alcohol.
Why not? It was what Dean would do. Cas smirked; he still remembered what it felt like to be drunk as an angel. Cas reached for the bottle, unscrewed it-hesitated-and then the whispers of Bobby stirred in his thoughts.
Cas took a long drink and drowned them-every last one.
The liquid set his throat on fire. Like everything else, he managed to put aside the burn of the alcohol, and with every pull from the bottle, he noticed the sting less and less.
No wonder Dean and Bobby loved this shit so much.
Mike sat down next to him. “You mind?”
Cas shook his head and passed the bottle back.
Mike took a quick sip, smiled, and said, “Hit’s the spot, doesn’t it?”
Cas wasn’t in the mood for conversation. He gave a sharp nod.
Mike set the moonshine between them. Cas watched as Mike reached into his back pocket and pulled out a smaller bottle. Mike dumped a couple of pills into his palm, popped them in his mouth, then swallowed.
I guess I’m not the only one with a killer migraine.
The whispers started clawing at the back of his mind again. Cas grabbed the bottle and took another long drawl thinking that it would help. Eventually, if he drank enough, it would.
After a few minutes Mike said, “I’ll drive the rest of the way.”
Cas couldn’t bring himself to care one way or another. Mike took the keys from Cas’s free hand and walked towards the car.
Cas stood, clutching the bottle to his chest, and walked to the passenger side, then got inside.
****
Cas was feeling wonderfully oblivious when they got back to the camp.
He managed to get out of the car without falling flat on his face and didn’t look at anyone as he stumbled towards his cabin. Mike was at his side, his eyes worried.
That was the last thing he needed right now.
“Leave me alone,” Cas mumbled.
“I’m just going to make sure you get home okay,” Mike replied.
“Whatever,” Cas heard himself grunt. It was somewhat nice to not -give- a -damn about what came out of your mouth.
Mike gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re kinda trashed.”
“Aren’t you a genius,” he spat.
Mike laughed. “I like you better this way, you’re a hell of a lot funnier.
“So are you,” Cas said.
Cas reached his steps, Mike’s hand rested on his elbow as he guided him up. Cas meant to open the door but ended up running into it.
“Stupid door,” he muttered.
Mike chuckled. “I guess that door had it in for you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll do some remodeling,” or at least that’s what he meant to say, but his tongue kept getting in the way of clear speech. He got the thing opened and wobbled straight for his bed. He flopped onto it, keeping the half-empty bottle by his side.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Mike called.
Cas saw him hesitate at the door.
Please just leave.
He did.
The moment Castiel was alone those whispers came back - fighting their way back to the surface even through the glorious numbing effects of the alcohol.
Cas pulled the lid off and took another long drink, set the bottle on his nightstand, then passed out.
****
“Are you hung over?” Dean’s face loomed over him; he was more than a little annoyed.
Cas stayed silent. He felt like he’d been run-over by a truck. His vision swam as he struggled to kick his sluggish brain into gear.
Where the hell am I?
Cas felt the bed beneath him. Dean was hovering over him. He must be home; Cas just couldn’t remember getting there clearly.
“Unbelievable.”
Cas rubbed the grit from his eyes as he tried to figure out what the hell Dean’s problem was today.
“What happened? Did Bobby find anything in those books?”
Cas froze. Time stopped momentarily as memory came rushing back. The fog drifted away, leaving him all too aware.
His head pounded more intensely -his skin broke out in a cold sweat.
Dean didn‘t know.
“Haven’t you talked to Mike?” Cas managed.
“I just got back an hour ago. I was following another lead, remember?” Dean’s impatience only made it harder to breathe. The safety and warmth of the moonshine was gone-those whispers were starting to turn into roars.
With all that had happened, Cas had forgotten why Mike had been with him instead of Dean. He’d bailed at the last minute, claiming he had another idea where he might find the colt.
Cas blearily reached for the bottle on his bedside table-only to remember it was empty. His breathing became more rapid.
“Dude, what the hell is your problem? You gonna be sick?” Dean took a step back.
Cas looked up into Dean’s frustrated eyes. He didn’t want to tell him. Once Cas said it-it would be real.
He could already feel the weight of yesterday starting to crash down on him.
Dean made a sound of pure exasperation.
Rage flared from somewhere deep inside Castiel, breaking his silence. “What the hell’s my problem?” he whispered-his tone harsh and cutting. “You’re my problem,” Cas rasped.
Dean gaped at him. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You should have been there-not that damn rookie.” Cas pushed up off the bed using the end table for support-his legs felt rubbery.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Screw you, Cas. I had something more important to do than a freaking book run.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right, killing Sam is more important than holding onto what you already have.” Cas laughed bitterly, it turned into a sob.
Dean cringed. “I have no idea why you’re going all melodramatic on me, but I don’t have time for this sh-.” Dean blinked, his face paled as realization hit.
“Bobby?”
That was it. Hearing his fallen comrade’s name spoken out loud-it broke Cas. The despair was all consuming; he was drowning. His body started to shake as the tears blurred Dean’s image.
He was dimly aware of Dean backing away from him, his face a reflection of the agony Cas was experiencing.
“Stop it!” Dean’s voice was sharp and it broke through Castiel’s distress. “Stop crying like that,” he ordered.
Cas sucked in a breath, managing to hold back another sob. Following orders was something Cas had always excelled at - it sickened him. He felt weak as he lifted his gaze back to Dean and found him eyeing the door as if the sight of tears was a loathsome thing he wanted to escape.
“Dean,” his voice was ragged and desperate-Cas hated himself for it. He hated how much he wanted comfort by someone who obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Someone who hadn’t been there yesterday when he’d needed him-when Bobby had needed him. Cas sunk back to the bed, that anger he had held onto faded leaving him hollowed out by the pain.
“How did it happen?” Dean still didn’t look at him- his voice still rang with authority.
Cas licked his lips, and managed to get though it-his voice cracking and shuddering. He cried still, but since Dean wasn’t looking, he didn’t tell him to stop.
When he finished Dean finally looked at him, his eyes were hard and cold.
“You left him, not me.”
Cas felt like he’d been punched in the gut-he opened his mouth to speak but Dean was already out the door.
It slammed shut.
Cas wrapped his arms around his middle and sobbed. The pain rolled over him in waves making it impossible to stay afloat.
He reached for the emotional control he’d had for most of his angelic life.
It wasn’t there.
Cas swallowed another sob and felt his gaze drift back to the empty liquor bottle resting by his bed.
****
Cas was sitting on the steps to his cabin, eyes closed, head bent slightly forward. He had just left a meeting with Dean and Risa that had not gone well. Disagreeing with Dean’s insane plans put you on his shit list. Not that it mattered, he was going along for the ride anyway.
Just like he always did.
Another day, another town that might give Dean a clue where to find that damn colt.
“You’re looking pretty rough.”
Cas stiffened.
Mike sat down next to him on the steps. “Maybe I can help?”
“I don’t think so,” Cas rubbed at his temples.
No one can help me, Cas cringed at the thought. He’d been having many of those thoughts lately, but he seemed helpless to stop them from surfacing.
‘Look, you saved my life awhile back - let me return the favor. We‘re all going through some pretty rough times, but you…” Mike trailed off. He gave Cas a warm smile. “I like you. You’re a nice guy.” Mike leaned in and lowered his voice. “Not like some people in this camp. You know what I mean?”
Mikes words made him feel something he hadn’t in awhile. A sense of camaraderie.
Cas felt a small smile grace his lips. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Mike nodded. “I thought so.” Then his face turned serious and he glanced around, his body visibly relaxing when he realized they were alone. “I have something I’ve found to help me through the worst of it,” his voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I can’t tell you where I got them from, but trust me on this, okay?”
Cas raised a skeptical eyebrow; trusting people was not something he did much of anymore. “What are you talking about?”
Mike pulled an orange prescription bottle from his pocket. He shook out some pills for himself, stuffed them back in his pocket, and offered the bottle to Cas.
Cas lifted the bottle and read the label. “Adderall?” Cas wrinkled his forehead. “What is this for? I don’t have a headache.”
Mike chuckled. “It isn’t for headaches man. It’s for life. Helps make it a little more manageable,” Mike smiled encouragingly.
Cas’s eyes widened in understanding. Then he found himself really looking at Mike. His eyes were a bit glassy and his body language much more relaxed than he had been a month ago when Bobby…
Mike slapped him on the back. “Take two and call me in the morning. If you like it, I’ve got some other stuff you should try.”
Mike stood, stretched his arms over his head, and gave Cas another friendly smile, then left.
Cas eyed the bottle-debating. He popped the lid off and looked at the small pieces inside. They looked harmless enough. This was probably what he’d seen Mike take several times, Cas had always thought it was something for headaches. Mike seemed fine, better than fine. It made Castiel a little envious. More importantly, Mike liked him. The thought of having a friend felt better than what Cas wanted to admit.
Cas dumped a few into his palm. He found himself wondering if these little pills could help.
What do I have to lose?
He popped them into his mouth, swallowing them with a swig of alcohol from his flask.
It didn’t take long before Cas knew he’d found what he’d been looking for. The weight of the world wasn’t so heavy anymore and he felt strangely positive. Hell, he felt like he could go for a run. The guilt he carried with him everyday was barely noticeable. Cas leaned back and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face as he relished in feeling like he could fly.
He knew it was absurd, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
For the first time since Bobby died Cas felt like he could focus again.
It looked like he’d found another friend - one he could rely on not to leave him.
Next Chapter
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are loved and adored. It's nice to know people are reading/enjoying this :)
Title: The Long Road Back
Author: Nicole
Rating: R (maybe NC-17 later to be safe)
Chapters: 13/28 (i'm still doing a lot of editing so this might change a bit)
Warnings: gore,language,violence, drug use, eventual slash
Spoilers: only up to 5 X 4 (but you'll see me draw from information we found out later)
Characters/Pairings: focus on Dean/Future Cas but also Risa, Chuck, OC's, LuciferSam, and future Dean.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine and I don't own anything but the errors.
Summary: AU 5 X 04 The End fic. In many ways this will be a fix it story (but not in all ways). Dean stops his future self from sending Cas and the others into a trap and Zachariah seems to be missing in action. Dean has to figure out where to go from here.
A/N: This fic has been consuming my brain in a good way. I really wanted to play around in this world, i love apocalyptic type settings, and i thought it would be a good way to keep myself busy during the hiatus. This story is going to have action,violence, and some death but the focus of this fic will be a slowly evolving love story in the middle of a world gone to hell between a certain hunter and a certain fallen angel. If you have a problem with that, don't read it.
Word count: 2190 (45,000 total)
Chapter One Chapter Eight
Chapter Two Chapter Nine
Chapter Three Chapter Ten
Chapter Four Chapter Eleven
Chapter Five Chapter Twelve
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Cas’s entire body started to tremble as the adrenaline high he’d been riding started to wear off. He struggled to keep the wheel steady.
His hands were shaking and he felt nauseas. Cas’s chest tightened and it got harder to breathe.
Cas slammed on the brakes, he needed out, he needed air. He ripped the door open ignoring Mike’s cries of alarm and leapt from the truck. He stumbled forwards several feet on the cracked pavement, then fell to his knees drawing in huge gulps of air that never seemed to be enough.
Mike came up behind him, his steps tentative.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” he hedged.
Cas ignored the stirrings of emotions the mention of Bobby caused within him. He ignored the little voice that whispered he’s dead. Cas swallowed it all down and buried it deep within himself. Now was not the time to go there. He couldn’t think about Bobby and make it back to the camp.
Cas pressed his hands to his temples trying to blot out the feeling that someone was screaming over and over in his head.
He heard the sound of Mike rummaging through something.
More tentative steps forward.
“This might help.”
Cas looked up, Mike was holding something in his outstretched hands.
A bottle.
Alcohol.
Why not? It was what Dean would do. Cas smirked; he still remembered what it felt like to be drunk as an angel. Cas reached for the bottle, unscrewed it-hesitated-and then the whispers of Bobby stirred in his thoughts.
Cas took a long drink and drowned them-every last one.
The liquid set his throat on fire. Like everything else, he managed to put aside the burn of the alcohol, and with every pull from the bottle, he noticed the sting less and less.
No wonder Dean and Bobby loved this shit so much.
Mike sat down next to him. “You mind?”
Cas shook his head and passed the bottle back.
Mike took a quick sip, smiled, and said, “Hit’s the spot, doesn’t it?”
Cas wasn’t in the mood for conversation. He gave a sharp nod.
Mike set the moonshine between them. Cas watched as Mike reached into his back pocket and pulled out a smaller bottle. Mike dumped a couple of pills into his palm, popped them in his mouth, then swallowed.
I guess I’m not the only one with a killer migraine.
The whispers started clawing at the back of his mind again. Cas grabbed the bottle and took another long drawl thinking that it would help. Eventually, if he drank enough, it would.
After a few minutes Mike said, “I’ll drive the rest of the way.”
Cas couldn’t bring himself to care one way or another. Mike took the keys from Cas’s free hand and walked towards the car.
Cas stood, clutching the bottle to his chest, and walked to the passenger side, then got inside.
****
Cas was feeling wonderfully oblivious when they got back to the camp.
He managed to get out of the car without falling flat on his face and didn’t look at anyone as he stumbled towards his cabin. Mike was at his side, his eyes worried.
That was the last thing he needed right now.
“Leave me alone,” Cas mumbled.
“I’m just going to make sure you get home okay,” Mike replied.
“Whatever,” Cas heard himself grunt. It was somewhat nice to not -give- a -damn about what came out of your mouth.
Mike gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re kinda trashed.”
“Aren’t you a genius,” he spat.
Mike laughed. “I like you better this way, you’re a hell of a lot funnier.
“So are you,” Cas said.
Cas reached his steps, Mike’s hand rested on his elbow as he guided him up. Cas meant to open the door but ended up running into it.
“Stupid door,” he muttered.
Mike chuckled. “I guess that door had it in for you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll do some remodeling,” or at least that’s what he meant to say, but his tongue kept getting in the way of clear speech. He got the thing opened and wobbled straight for his bed. He flopped onto it, keeping the half-empty bottle by his side.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Mike called.
Cas saw him hesitate at the door.
Please just leave.
He did.
The moment Castiel was alone those whispers came back - fighting their way back to the surface even through the glorious numbing effects of the alcohol.
Cas pulled the lid off and took another long drink, set the bottle on his nightstand, then passed out.
****
“Are you hung over?” Dean’s face loomed over him; he was more than a little annoyed.
Cas stayed silent. He felt like he’d been run-over by a truck. His vision swam as he struggled to kick his sluggish brain into gear.
Where the hell am I?
Cas felt the bed beneath him. Dean was hovering over him. He must be home; Cas just couldn’t remember getting there clearly.
“Unbelievable.”
Cas rubbed the grit from his eyes as he tried to figure out what the hell Dean’s problem was today.
“What happened? Did Bobby find anything in those books?”
Cas froze. Time stopped momentarily as memory came rushing back. The fog drifted away, leaving him all too aware.
His head pounded more intensely -his skin broke out in a cold sweat.
Dean didn‘t know.
“Haven’t you talked to Mike?” Cas managed.
“I just got back an hour ago. I was following another lead, remember?” Dean’s impatience only made it harder to breathe. The safety and warmth of the moonshine was gone-those whispers were starting to turn into roars.
With all that had happened, Cas had forgotten why Mike had been with him instead of Dean. He’d bailed at the last minute, claiming he had another idea where he might find the colt.
Cas blearily reached for the bottle on his bedside table-only to remember it was empty. His breathing became more rapid.
“Dude, what the hell is your problem? You gonna be sick?” Dean took a step back.
Cas looked up into Dean’s frustrated eyes. He didn’t want to tell him. Once Cas said it-it would be real.
He could already feel the weight of yesterday starting to crash down on him.
Dean made a sound of pure exasperation.
Rage flared from somewhere deep inside Castiel, breaking his silence. “What the hell’s my problem?” he whispered-his tone harsh and cutting. “You’re my problem,” Cas rasped.
Dean gaped at him. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You should have been there-not that damn rookie.” Cas pushed up off the bed using the end table for support-his legs felt rubbery.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Screw you, Cas. I had something more important to do than a freaking book run.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right, killing Sam is more important than holding onto what you already have.” Cas laughed bitterly, it turned into a sob.
Dean cringed. “I have no idea why you’re going all melodramatic on me, but I don’t have time for this sh-.” Dean blinked, his face paled as realization hit.
“Bobby?”
That was it. Hearing his fallen comrade’s name spoken out loud-it broke Cas. The despair was all consuming; he was drowning. His body started to shake as the tears blurred Dean’s image.
He was dimly aware of Dean backing away from him, his face a reflection of the agony Cas was experiencing.
“Stop it!” Dean’s voice was sharp and it broke through Castiel’s distress. “Stop crying like that,” he ordered.
Cas sucked in a breath, managing to hold back another sob. Following orders was something Cas had always excelled at - it sickened him. He felt weak as he lifted his gaze back to Dean and found him eyeing the door as if the sight of tears was a loathsome thing he wanted to escape.
“Dean,” his voice was ragged and desperate-Cas hated himself for it. He hated how much he wanted comfort by someone who obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Someone who hadn’t been there yesterday when he’d needed him-when Bobby had needed him. Cas sunk back to the bed, that anger he had held onto faded leaving him hollowed out by the pain.
“How did it happen?” Dean still didn’t look at him- his voice still rang with authority.
Cas licked his lips, and managed to get though it-his voice cracking and shuddering. He cried still, but since Dean wasn’t looking, he didn’t tell him to stop.
When he finished Dean finally looked at him, his eyes were hard and cold.
“You left him, not me.”
Cas felt like he’d been punched in the gut-he opened his mouth to speak but Dean was already out the door.
It slammed shut.
Cas wrapped his arms around his middle and sobbed. The pain rolled over him in waves making it impossible to stay afloat.
He reached for the emotional control he’d had for most of his angelic life.
It wasn’t there.
Cas swallowed another sob and felt his gaze drift back to the empty liquor bottle resting by his bed.
****
Cas was sitting on the steps to his cabin, eyes closed, head bent slightly forward. He had just left a meeting with Dean and Risa that had not gone well. Disagreeing with Dean’s insane plans put you on his shit list. Not that it mattered, he was going along for the ride anyway.
Just like he always did.
Another day, another town that might give Dean a clue where to find that damn colt.
“You’re looking pretty rough.”
Cas stiffened.
Mike sat down next to him on the steps. “Maybe I can help?”
“I don’t think so,” Cas rubbed at his temples.
No one can help me, Cas cringed at the thought. He’d been having many of those thoughts lately, but he seemed helpless to stop them from surfacing.
‘Look, you saved my life awhile back - let me return the favor. We‘re all going through some pretty rough times, but you…” Mike trailed off. He gave Cas a warm smile. “I like you. You’re a nice guy.” Mike leaned in and lowered his voice. “Not like some people in this camp. You know what I mean?”
Mikes words made him feel something he hadn’t in awhile. A sense of camaraderie.
Cas felt a small smile grace his lips. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Mike nodded. “I thought so.” Then his face turned serious and he glanced around, his body visibly relaxing when he realized they were alone. “I have something I’ve found to help me through the worst of it,” his voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I can’t tell you where I got them from, but trust me on this, okay?”
Cas raised a skeptical eyebrow; trusting people was not something he did much of anymore. “What are you talking about?”
Mike pulled an orange prescription bottle from his pocket. He shook out some pills for himself, stuffed them back in his pocket, and offered the bottle to Cas.
Cas lifted the bottle and read the label. “Adderall?” Cas wrinkled his forehead. “What is this for? I don’t have a headache.”
Mike chuckled. “It isn’t for headaches man. It’s for life. Helps make it a little more manageable,” Mike smiled encouragingly.
Cas’s eyes widened in understanding. Then he found himself really looking at Mike. His eyes were a bit glassy and his body language much more relaxed than he had been a month ago when Bobby…
Mike slapped him on the back. “Take two and call me in the morning. If you like it, I’ve got some other stuff you should try.”
Mike stood, stretched his arms over his head, and gave Cas another friendly smile, then left.
Cas eyed the bottle-debating. He popped the lid off and looked at the small pieces inside. They looked harmless enough. This was probably what he’d seen Mike take several times, Cas had always thought it was something for headaches. Mike seemed fine, better than fine. It made Castiel a little envious. More importantly, Mike liked him. The thought of having a friend felt better than what Cas wanted to admit.
Cas dumped a few into his palm. He found himself wondering if these little pills could help.
What do I have to lose?
He popped them into his mouth, swallowing them with a swig of alcohol from his flask.
It didn’t take long before Cas knew he’d found what he’d been looking for. The weight of the world wasn’t so heavy anymore and he felt strangely positive. Hell, he felt like he could go for a run. The guilt he carried with him everyday was barely noticeable. Cas leaned back and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face as he relished in feeling like he could fly.
He knew it was absurd, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
For the first time since Bobby died Cas felt like he could focus again.
It looked like he’d found another friend - one he could rely on not to leave him.
Next Chapter
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are loved and adored. It's nice to know people are reading/enjoying this :)