FIC: Wonder What Befell (SPN: Dean/Castiel, PG-13)
TITLE: Wonder What Befell
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Supernatural
PAIRING: Dean/Castiel
WORDS: 1,202
SPOILERS: Vague for all Season 4 episodes aired so far.
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: violence, language
SUMMARY: "Is this God's experiment, in which we have no say? In which we live in Paradise - but only for a day."
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural, Dean or Castiel. I don't own Jensen or Misha and they're probably glad about that. "Written in the stars" is performed by LeAnn Rimes and Elton John. I make no money from this pleasure.
NOTES: I don't watch Supernatural. No, really, I don't. I watched about six episodes of the first season and quit.
However, two very insistent young women of my acquaintance (you know who you are) have been yammering on about Dean this and Castiel that for so long that my brain surrendered, exploded and spat out this.
I am here to tell you we can never meet again
Dean stepped out of the bathroom and grinned. "Cas! You're back. Miss me?"
When the angel failed to react to his leer, he shrugged and went to find clothes. "Oh, serious business! What do we have today? Ghosts in graveyards? Possessed chickens? Werewolf in need of the silver touch?"
"Dean-"
"Forget it - tell me on the way." Dean hurriedly pulled on his jeans, wondering where Sam had got to. "You can't ride shotgun o'course, but we can give you a pretty nice ride." He gave him the obligatory wink. "If you know what I mean."
Castiel still hadn't moved, had barely responded to anything he'd said. Dean folded his arms over his chest. "What? What have I done now?"
The angel did nothing, simply looked…lost, and Dean pursed his lips, crossing the room to view his angel up close. "Cas, you're scaring me, man. What's going on?"
Castiel opened his mouth but nothing came out and Dean reached for him, with a gentleness that betrayed his affection; Castiel flinched away.
Dean tried not to be hurt. It was cool - they'd just had a casual thing, a bit of fun while Sam was away with his demon chick. And Cas was having second thoughts, and that was fine-
"I cannot see you again."
His blood ran cold. "Come again?"
"I will no longer be your messenger. Uriel will-"
"What? WHAT?" Dean jerked away from him. "You'd better have a damn good explanation for this."
"I have been reassigned."
"Reassigned?" Dean said slowly, trying to rein in his temper. "You guys don't just get 'reassigned'. There's a war on and you're all playing musical chairs? I don't buy it. What's going on, Cas?"
And that holy son-of-a-bitch turned his back on him. "I cannot-"
"You can and you will," Dean grated out, forcing Castiel to turn and look at him.
"My Father sees all," he intoned and Dean's mouth went dry.
"And let me guess - the Big Man doesn't approve."
To his surprise, Castiel let out a hysterical little laugh. "Yes," he said. "Something like that."
Dean gripped the angel's shoulders with both hands. "Cas, snap out of it. Tell me where you're going."
The eyes that met his were despairing. "Goodbye, Dean."
"No, don't you-" And Castiel vanished from under his fingers, the faint rustle of feathers carrying to his ear.
With a roar, Dean picked up the lamp and flung it at the wall. It just missed his brother in the doorway and Dean was suddenly breathing hard, from fear and loss and pain.
"Mind telling me what's going on?"
He tried to speak without choking. "Cas is gone."
Sam frowned. "Gone? Gone where?"
"Fuck knows," Dean said, trying to be flippant, shrug it off. "We get the other guy now."
"What, Uriel?" Sam barely concealed his disgust. "Why?"
Dean started pulling on his t-shirt and then shrugged on his jacket. "Let's go kill something."
"Dean, wait-"
"Now, Sam."
He grabbed his keys and headed out to his baby. At least she wouldn't leave him.
~
Six weeks, four days and fifteen hours. Not that he was counting.
He pushed the apple pie around his plate, long since gone cold, and realised this really was pathetic. It was just sex. Pretty fucking awesome sex, yes, but then Cas was a dark horse.
Dean would swallow down his pie and get back on the road. Then, he'd find something to shoot before hitting a bar and a strip club. As far away as possible from anything that reminded him of…that man.
Leaving the last mouthful untouched, Dean slammed the door of the diner and went to find his brother. Maybe shouting at Sam would make him feel better, make him feel anything at all, but who could tell anymore?
Holy tax accountant had taken the rules with him when he vanished. Figured.
~
Three months and he'd stopped counting.
And stopped speaking to Uriel.
And stopped caring. Almost.
~
The dagger ripped through him and he bit back a scream. He slid down the wall, as the Latin all merged into one stream of nonsense and something snarled.
Then, quiet.
"Dean!"
The voice was Sam's but the hand on his cheek was…something else. He forced his eyes open to meet the panicked blue of a certain angel.
"Sonovabitch," he mumbled. "Yer late."
"I know. I am sorry."
And then there was Sammy, hovering, looking like Hell had come to earth already. "Breathe, bitch."
"Yeah, you too." Sam was not helping with this serious shit, and the angel boy was looking like he was about to have a coronary.
"I need your assistance, Samuel." And Sammy just nodded and moved closer. Since when did they become so chummy anyway?
"Why now?" he found himself saying, struggling to focus on Castiel's face.
"You need me," he said simply. Dean scowled.
"Great - duty. Fucking brilliant."
Hands pressed against the wounds - damn knife had gone all the way through - and Dean hissed, banging his head against the wall. And then Castiel's breath was hot against his ear, and the angel whispered, "No, Dean. Love."
Dean smiled and rested his head against him. "Aw, hell, man, don't get soppy on me now. No chick flick moments, okay?"
His vision started to swim and, as reality slid away, he heard the voice of an angel talking of love.
~
"…freaky shit." Dean opened his eyes and saw ceiling. How did he get here?
"He carried you."
Sam was sat on the other bed, looking worn but together, and Dean frowned.
"Who carried what now?"
"I carried you, Dean."
He turned to face the sound and found Castiel perched on his bed, smiling serenely.
"Just so we're clear, I am the man in this relationship. You got that?"
Sam made a strangled noise in the back of his throat but Dean ignored him, drinking in the sight of Castiel. Because no doubt the feathery bastard was going to up and leave, flitter back to his cloud or whatever dumbass assignment he had that was more important than Dean.
But the angel was just sitting there and staring. Dean sighed. "If you're gonna leave, just get on with it, Cas."
"I am not leaving, Dean."
"Because I just can't- what?"
"I have been returned to my assignment."
Dean couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. He blamed it on the blood loss.
"You serious?"
"Angels cannot lie."
"Yeah, Uriel's in trouble," Sam said, with a massive grin lighting his face.
"He was willing to sacrifice you," Castiel bit out, and Dean noticed how his hand was fisted in the sheets, betraying his anger.
"Yeah, well, got a guardian angel. No job too small, no job too-"
He was cut off by a kiss, something soft and chaste, yet claiming him, owning him. And he was surprisingly cool with that.
"Guys, I'm right here!" Dean flipped him the bird and continued the kissing. "Fine - I'll be outside."
Dean grinned into the kiss and reached up to Castiel, ruffling his hair before breaking away. "Yeah, man, guess I love you too," he muttered.
Castiel's smile could light the world.
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Supernatural
PAIRING: Dean/Castiel
WORDS: 1,202
SPOILERS: Vague for all Season 4 episodes aired so far.
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: violence, language
SUMMARY: "Is this God's experiment, in which we have no say? In which we live in Paradise - but only for a day."
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural, Dean or Castiel. I don't own Jensen or Misha and they're probably glad about that. "Written in the stars" is performed by LeAnn Rimes and Elton John. I make no money from this pleasure.
NOTES: I don't watch Supernatural. No, really, I don't. I watched about six episodes of the first season and quit.
However, two very insistent young women of my acquaintance (you know who you are) have been yammering on about Dean this and Castiel that for so long that my brain surrendered, exploded and spat out this.
I am here to tell you we can never meet again
Dean stepped out of the bathroom and grinned. "Cas! You're back. Miss me?"
When the angel failed to react to his leer, he shrugged and went to find clothes. "Oh, serious business! What do we have today? Ghosts in graveyards? Possessed chickens? Werewolf in need of the silver touch?"
"Dean-"
"Forget it - tell me on the way." Dean hurriedly pulled on his jeans, wondering where Sam had got to. "You can't ride shotgun o'course, but we can give you a pretty nice ride." He gave him the obligatory wink. "If you know what I mean."
Castiel still hadn't moved, had barely responded to anything he'd said. Dean folded his arms over his chest. "What? What have I done now?"
The angel did nothing, simply looked…lost, and Dean pursed his lips, crossing the room to view his angel up close. "Cas, you're scaring me, man. What's going on?"
Castiel opened his mouth but nothing came out and Dean reached for him, with a gentleness that betrayed his affection; Castiel flinched away.
Dean tried not to be hurt. It was cool - they'd just had a casual thing, a bit of fun while Sam was away with his demon chick. And Cas was having second thoughts, and that was fine-
"I cannot see you again."
His blood ran cold. "Come again?"
"I will no longer be your messenger. Uriel will-"
"What? WHAT?" Dean jerked away from him. "You'd better have a damn good explanation for this."
"I have been reassigned."
"Reassigned?" Dean said slowly, trying to rein in his temper. "You guys don't just get 'reassigned'. There's a war on and you're all playing musical chairs? I don't buy it. What's going on, Cas?"
And that holy son-of-a-bitch turned his back on him. "I cannot-"
"You can and you will," Dean grated out, forcing Castiel to turn and look at him.
"My Father sees all," he intoned and Dean's mouth went dry.
"And let me guess - the Big Man doesn't approve."
To his surprise, Castiel let out a hysterical little laugh. "Yes," he said. "Something like that."
Dean gripped the angel's shoulders with both hands. "Cas, snap out of it. Tell me where you're going."
The eyes that met his were despairing. "Goodbye, Dean."
"No, don't you-" And Castiel vanished from under his fingers, the faint rustle of feathers carrying to his ear.
With a roar, Dean picked up the lamp and flung it at the wall. It just missed his brother in the doorway and Dean was suddenly breathing hard, from fear and loss and pain.
"Mind telling me what's going on?"
He tried to speak without choking. "Cas is gone."
Sam frowned. "Gone? Gone where?"
"Fuck knows," Dean said, trying to be flippant, shrug it off. "We get the other guy now."
"What, Uriel?" Sam barely concealed his disgust. "Why?"
Dean started pulling on his t-shirt and then shrugged on his jacket. "Let's go kill something."
"Dean, wait-"
"Now, Sam."
He grabbed his keys and headed out to his baby. At least she wouldn't leave him.
~
Six weeks, four days and fifteen hours. Not that he was counting.
He pushed the apple pie around his plate, long since gone cold, and realised this really was pathetic. It was just sex. Pretty fucking awesome sex, yes, but then Cas was a dark horse.
Dean would swallow down his pie and get back on the road. Then, he'd find something to shoot before hitting a bar and a strip club. As far away as possible from anything that reminded him of…that man.
Leaving the last mouthful untouched, Dean slammed the door of the diner and went to find his brother. Maybe shouting at Sam would make him feel better, make him feel anything at all, but who could tell anymore?
Holy tax accountant had taken the rules with him when he vanished. Figured.
~
Three months and he'd stopped counting.
And stopped speaking to Uriel.
And stopped caring. Almost.
~
The dagger ripped through him and he bit back a scream. He slid down the wall, as the Latin all merged into one stream of nonsense and something snarled.
Then, quiet.
"Dean!"
The voice was Sam's but the hand on his cheek was…something else. He forced his eyes open to meet the panicked blue of a certain angel.
"Sonovabitch," he mumbled. "Yer late."
"I know. I am sorry."
And then there was Sammy, hovering, looking like Hell had come to earth already. "Breathe, bitch."
"Yeah, you too." Sam was not helping with this serious shit, and the angel boy was looking like he was about to have a coronary.
"I need your assistance, Samuel." And Sammy just nodded and moved closer. Since when did they become so chummy anyway?
"Why now?" he found himself saying, struggling to focus on Castiel's face.
"You need me," he said simply. Dean scowled.
"Great - duty. Fucking brilliant."
Hands pressed against the wounds - damn knife had gone all the way through - and Dean hissed, banging his head against the wall. And then Castiel's breath was hot against his ear, and the angel whispered, "No, Dean. Love."
Dean smiled and rested his head against him. "Aw, hell, man, don't get soppy on me now. No chick flick moments, okay?"
His vision started to swim and, as reality slid away, he heard the voice of an angel talking of love.
~
"…freaky shit." Dean opened his eyes and saw ceiling. How did he get here?
"He carried you."
Sam was sat on the other bed, looking worn but together, and Dean frowned.
"Who carried what now?"
"I carried you, Dean."
He turned to face the sound and found Castiel perched on his bed, smiling serenely.
"Just so we're clear, I am the man in this relationship. You got that?"
Sam made a strangled noise in the back of his throat but Dean ignored him, drinking in the sight of Castiel. Because no doubt the feathery bastard was going to up and leave, flitter back to his cloud or whatever dumbass assignment he had that was more important than Dean.
But the angel was just sitting there and staring. Dean sighed. "If you're gonna leave, just get on with it, Cas."
"I am not leaving, Dean."
"Because I just can't- what?"
"I have been returned to my assignment."
Dean couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. He blamed it on the blood loss.
"You serious?"
"Angels cannot lie."
"Yeah, Uriel's in trouble," Sam said, with a massive grin lighting his face.
"He was willing to sacrifice you," Castiel bit out, and Dean noticed how his hand was fisted in the sheets, betraying his anger.
"Yeah, well, got a guardian angel. No job too small, no job too-"
He was cut off by a kiss, something soft and chaste, yet claiming him, owning him. And he was surprisingly cool with that.
"Guys, I'm right here!" Dean flipped him the bird and continued the kissing. "Fine - I'll be outside."
Dean grinned into the kiss and reached up to Castiel, ruffling his hair before breaking away. "Yeah, man, guess I love you too," he muttered.
Castiel's smile could light the world.