Dean's back hits the wall, and he feels something crack, jarring and sharp. He falls to the floor, mind awash with shock and panic. It's cold cement, and somehow that helps. Not hot. Not vapor. Not metal and chains and the soft, skin-like membrane between them...But Alastair is there, right there, and reaching towards Dean's face with a hand like
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beautiful
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I love the imagery with Castiel as the sun.
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