Method of Loci
Originally posted here.
Title: Method of Loci
Wordcount: ~1800
Rating: Hard R for some sex and disturbing images
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Genre: Angst
Warning: (highlight to reveal) Character death
Beta: pyjamagurl
Notes: The warning is a big spoiler, so highlight it with care. And... Here, have a Prozac.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Summary: He needs him there. Needs him to come closer, to warm him, to make him forget just how cold he is.
The rain hits the windshield faster than the wipers can clear it. Falls like sheets of water on the asphalt, making the night darker than it already is. Dean hits the gas.
Sam is talking to his right, but whatever he's saying gets drowned by Robert Plant's voice blasting from the speakers.
Suddenly there's a curve ahead and Dean tries to slow the Impala, but the tires block and they go skidding sideways. Dean clutches the steering wheel and all he can see in front of him are telephone poles and they’re getting closer.
~~~~~
Dean jolts awake and almost chokes on the sheet covering his face. He struggles with it until he's finally able to throw it back. He looks around the motel room and sees Cas sitting on the other bed, the afternoon sun coming through the window behind him.
"You had a nightmare, Dean," he says.
Dean rubs his temple. He has a weird headache, tiny pinpricks of pain around his forehead and nape, reaching his neck. It's a sunny summer’s day. There should be no reason why he's feeling so cold.
~~~~~
The interstate is empty, just as Dean likes it. A beautiful day and the road ahead straight, perfect for driving faster, for driving more. Sam is… somewhere, but Cas is at his side.
Dean turns the heat up and rubs his sore neck.
"Hey, Cas, pass me one of those tapes."
Cas picks one and puts it in the player.
"Zeppelin, huh?"
"You enjoy it, don't you?" Cas says, giving him a small smile. Dean grins at him, before looking ahead.
Son of a bitch, is that a crack on the windshield?
~~~~~
"Cas, I think I've been in this motel room before."
"You've spent most of your life in motel rooms, Dean. I'm sure you've been more than once in many of them."
~~~~~
Dean raises an eyebrow as Cas places the Styrofoam box between them on the bed.
"Key lime pie," he says, answering Dean's question.
Dean snorts, amused.
"Why?"
Cas makes a gesture that could be a shrug.
"You have been feeling unwell and it's one of your favorites. I thought it would be good for you."
Dean grins and opens the box. Inside the slice of pie is perfect and for a split second Dean feels it's a shame to stab it with a fork. He forgets it as soon as he takes the first bite.
"Oh, god," he moans.
"Is it good? I was told it was the best in town."
Dean wants to ask what town is it, again, because he can't remember it, but the pie is too good.
"Good? Cas, this is the best fucking pie I've ever had!" He scoops up another piece with the fork. "Here. You have to try it."
Cas eyes the piece of green and white pie Dean is almost shoving at his face, before opening his mouth. He chews for a few moments and swallows. He smiles.
There’s a bit of meringue on Cas' lip and Dean reaches out to wipe it with his thumb. It's one of those gestures done without thinking and the moment Dean's finger touches his lips, Cas' eyes go wide.
Dean shivers from the cold.
~~~~~
"Cas, I think I may be coming down with something. My head and my neck hurt and I'm always cold."
~~~~~
He can't stop the car. The tires keep skidding on the wet road and the telephone poles keep getting near.
Sam is screaming. Sam is crying and he is in so much pain. Dean wants to tell him its ok, for him to stop being such a bitch, but there's too much noise around them. The lights of the Impala are out, but there are bright colors all around, making his head hurt even more.
Dean wants to scream, wants to tell them, whatever they are, to let go of him, but no sound comes out of his mouth.
~~~~~
"Dean. Dean! Wake up! You're having a nightmare."
Dean takes a deep breath. He feels like he hasn't been breathing in forever. Cas is holding him, his hands clutching him tight. Dean lunges forward. He's so cold and Cas' hands feel so warm on his arms and Dean needs more, needs more heat, needs Cas.
~~~~~
"Cas, I can't remember where I left my car."
"It's parked outside, Dean." Cas kisses him between his shoulder blades and pulls him closer, but Dean is still cold. "You're tired. Go to sleep."
~~~~~
The room's wallpaper is striped, made to look like actual fabric. It's white, with thick bright green stripes and thin orange ones. Dean knows he has been there before, but it's not the room he remembers.
They are in a new room, in a new town, but Dean doesn't remember when they got there. He doesn't remember paying for the room. Maybe Sam did it? Maybe he got too drunk somewhere and that's why he doesn't remember getting there. Maybe that's how the Impala got that dent in the fender.
And Cas' lips brush his hips, while his hand wraps around his cock and Dean forgets what he was thinking.
~~~~~
Dean grabs the headboard of a bed he has slept in before. He spreads his knees wider, giving Cas more space to settle between them. He rolls his shoulder, trying to relax the strained muscles on his neck, but that just makes his head pound more.
The tip of Cas' cock presses against him and Dean lets out a shuddering groan.
"Come on, Cas." He needs him there. Needs him to come closer, to warm him, to make him forget just how cold he is.
Cas slides home with a jerk of his hips and Dean almost cries out from the sudden burn, but there's no air on his lungs. Cas licks a path along Dean's spine before wrapping himself around him, his chest warm (so warm, like Dean doesn't think he'll ever be again) against his back. Dean sobs.
~~~~~
Sam is crying and the lights of the Impala are out. The night is dark and without moon and Dean knows it's raining, but he can't feel the rain on his skin.
~~~~~
"Dammit!" Dean yells, hitting the steering wheel. On the passenger seat Cas tilts his head.
"Are you sure it has gas?"
"Of course I am." He turns the ignition again, but the motor is dead. He presses his forehead against the wheel, his neck too sore for him to sit straight. The midsummer sun is shining right above them, and all Dean wishes is that he could turn the heat on.
~~~~~
Dean is looking out of the window, wondering if they're paying less for the room since they have a telephone pole for view.
He can hear kids outside playing in the dirty swimming pool, the clear late summer air carrying their voices.
"We haven't been outside for so long, Cas."
"What do you mean, Dean? We have been driving across the country for the past weeks."
Dean wants to ask for how many weeks they have been traveling, where they have been staying, where they are going. He figures he should call Sam. He hasn't heard from him since… he doesn't remember.
"I want to be outside. In the sun."
"You haven't been well, Dean."
He knows he hasn't and he knows his head and neck still hurt and he still feels cold, but it's not the same. It's something he acknowledges, like background noise. Like the cheerful noises of the children outside.
"I'm feeling better, now."
~~~~~
The view in front of them opens like a wound in the planet. They are surrounded by people, all looking in the same direction, but the only sound around them is made by the cicadas. It's too overwhelming for them to talk, to make a noise. It's glorious, making them feel tiny and at the same time part of something bigger. Something more.
"How do you like it?" Cas whispers, bumping shoulders with him.
"It's everything I thought it would be." Dean answers, unwilling to raise his voice. Beneath them the Grand Canyon expands into the horizon, their presence a grain of sand.
"You know what? I've always wanted to come here with Sammy, but now I'm really glad I came with you."
Cas' face lights up. Dean brushes Cas' cheek with the back of his hand. This has been one of the best days of his life. These have been some of the best weeks of his life and Dean again regrets that they didn't do this before. That all this time, since he met Cas, he's been too afraid of what the universe might have in store for him if made a pass on the angel. Still, they now have their whole lives ahead of them to make up for lost time.
Dean steps into Cas’ personal space and presses his face into the crook of Cas' neck. He's warm and comfortable, his headache and neck pain finally gone.
"Do you remember where we parked the car?" he asks, laughing, Cas' arms around him.
~~~~
The rain is falling so hard Dean can hardly tell how many ambulances and fire-trucks are around them. One of the ambulances casts the lights over the Impala and Dean feels a bang on his chest when sees that his baby is wrapped around a telephone pole, her windshield broken, blood all over her hood.
Sam is sitting on the sidewalk curled-up on himself, his head in his hands. He looks so ridiculously small, just as tiny as he was when Dean could still pick him up. A paramedic is crouching in front of him, a hand on his shoulder saying something that Dean can't hear over the noise and the mess of the rain, the people and the sirens. Sam is rocking back and forth, his shoulders shaking.
A stretcher is being wheeled inside one of the ambulances, a body covered by a sheet on it.
Oh, god, what has he done? Did he run over someone? Did he kill an innocent civilian?
Cas is looking at him, his shoulders slumped, his eyes dark.
"Cas, what happened?"
"I'm sorry, Dean."
"What do you mean, Cas? What's going on?" Fear is starting to coil in Dean's stomach, but Cas doesn't answer. He just looks impossibly sad.
"Cas?" He steps forward and there's something like guilt etched on his face. "Cas? What did you do, Cas?"
"I just wanted you to be able to remember me." Dean opens his mouth to say something, but Cas just looks somewhere to the left of Dean's shoulder and nods. "Thank you," he says.
Dean turns to his left. She's smiling softly, her hand reaching out to him.
"It's time, Dean," Tessa says.
The End
Title: Method of Loci
Wordcount: ~1800
Rating: Hard R for some sex and disturbing images
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Genre: Angst
Warning: (highlight to reveal) Character death
Beta: pyjamagurl
Notes: The warning is a big spoiler, so highlight it with care. And... Here, have a Prozac.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Summary: He needs him there. Needs him to come closer, to warm him, to make him forget just how cold he is.
The rain hits the windshield faster than the wipers can clear it. Falls like sheets of water on the asphalt, making the night darker than it already is. Dean hits the gas.
Sam is talking to his right, but whatever he's saying gets drowned by Robert Plant's voice blasting from the speakers.
Suddenly there's a curve ahead and Dean tries to slow the Impala, but the tires block and they go skidding sideways. Dean clutches the steering wheel and all he can see in front of him are telephone poles and they’re getting closer.
~~~~~
Dean jolts awake and almost chokes on the sheet covering his face. He struggles with it until he's finally able to throw it back. He looks around the motel room and sees Cas sitting on the other bed, the afternoon sun coming through the window behind him.
"You had a nightmare, Dean," he says.
Dean rubs his temple. He has a weird headache, tiny pinpricks of pain around his forehead and nape, reaching his neck. It's a sunny summer’s day. There should be no reason why he's feeling so cold.
~~~~~
The interstate is empty, just as Dean likes it. A beautiful day and the road ahead straight, perfect for driving faster, for driving more. Sam is… somewhere, but Cas is at his side.
Dean turns the heat up and rubs his sore neck.
"Hey, Cas, pass me one of those tapes."
Cas picks one and puts it in the player.
"Zeppelin, huh?"
"You enjoy it, don't you?" Cas says, giving him a small smile. Dean grins at him, before looking ahead.
Son of a bitch, is that a crack on the windshield?
~~~~~
"Cas, I think I've been in this motel room before."
"You've spent most of your life in motel rooms, Dean. I'm sure you've been more than once in many of them."
~~~~~
Dean raises an eyebrow as Cas places the Styrofoam box between them on the bed.
"Key lime pie," he says, answering Dean's question.
Dean snorts, amused.
"Why?"
Cas makes a gesture that could be a shrug.
"You have been feeling unwell and it's one of your favorites. I thought it would be good for you."
Dean grins and opens the box. Inside the slice of pie is perfect and for a split second Dean feels it's a shame to stab it with a fork. He forgets it as soon as he takes the first bite.
"Oh, god," he moans.
"Is it good? I was told it was the best in town."
Dean wants to ask what town is it, again, because he can't remember it, but the pie is too good.
"Good? Cas, this is the best fucking pie I've ever had!" He scoops up another piece with the fork. "Here. You have to try it."
Cas eyes the piece of green and white pie Dean is almost shoving at his face, before opening his mouth. He chews for a few moments and swallows. He smiles.
There’s a bit of meringue on Cas' lip and Dean reaches out to wipe it with his thumb. It's one of those gestures done without thinking and the moment Dean's finger touches his lips, Cas' eyes go wide.
Dean shivers from the cold.
~~~~~
"Cas, I think I may be coming down with something. My head and my neck hurt and I'm always cold."
~~~~~
He can't stop the car. The tires keep skidding on the wet road and the telephone poles keep getting near.
Sam is screaming. Sam is crying and he is in so much pain. Dean wants to tell him its ok, for him to stop being such a bitch, but there's too much noise around them. The lights of the Impala are out, but there are bright colors all around, making his head hurt even more.
Dean wants to scream, wants to tell them, whatever they are, to let go of him, but no sound comes out of his mouth.
~~~~~
"Dean. Dean! Wake up! You're having a nightmare."
Dean takes a deep breath. He feels like he hasn't been breathing in forever. Cas is holding him, his hands clutching him tight. Dean lunges forward. He's so cold and Cas' hands feel so warm on his arms and Dean needs more, needs more heat, needs Cas.
~~~~~
"Cas, I can't remember where I left my car."
"It's parked outside, Dean." Cas kisses him between his shoulder blades and pulls him closer, but Dean is still cold. "You're tired. Go to sleep."
~~~~~
The room's wallpaper is striped, made to look like actual fabric. It's white, with thick bright green stripes and thin orange ones. Dean knows he has been there before, but it's not the room he remembers.
They are in a new room, in a new town, but Dean doesn't remember when they got there. He doesn't remember paying for the room. Maybe Sam did it? Maybe he got too drunk somewhere and that's why he doesn't remember getting there. Maybe that's how the Impala got that dent in the fender.
And Cas' lips brush his hips, while his hand wraps around his cock and Dean forgets what he was thinking.
~~~~~
Dean grabs the headboard of a bed he has slept in before. He spreads his knees wider, giving Cas more space to settle between them. He rolls his shoulder, trying to relax the strained muscles on his neck, but that just makes his head pound more.
The tip of Cas' cock presses against him and Dean lets out a shuddering groan.
"Come on, Cas." He needs him there. Needs him to come closer, to warm him, to make him forget just how cold he is.
Cas slides home with a jerk of his hips and Dean almost cries out from the sudden burn, but there's no air on his lungs. Cas licks a path along Dean's spine before wrapping himself around him, his chest warm (so warm, like Dean doesn't think he'll ever be again) against his back. Dean sobs.
~~~~~
Sam is crying and the lights of the Impala are out. The night is dark and without moon and Dean knows it's raining, but he can't feel the rain on his skin.
~~~~~
"Dammit!" Dean yells, hitting the steering wheel. On the passenger seat Cas tilts his head.
"Are you sure it has gas?"
"Of course I am." He turns the ignition again, but the motor is dead. He presses his forehead against the wheel, his neck too sore for him to sit straight. The midsummer sun is shining right above them, and all Dean wishes is that he could turn the heat on.
~~~~~
Dean is looking out of the window, wondering if they're paying less for the room since they have a telephone pole for view.
He can hear kids outside playing in the dirty swimming pool, the clear late summer air carrying their voices.
"We haven't been outside for so long, Cas."
"What do you mean, Dean? We have been driving across the country for the past weeks."
Dean wants to ask for how many weeks they have been traveling, where they have been staying, where they are going. He figures he should call Sam. He hasn't heard from him since… he doesn't remember.
"I want to be outside. In the sun."
"You haven't been well, Dean."
He knows he hasn't and he knows his head and neck still hurt and he still feels cold, but it's not the same. It's something he acknowledges, like background noise. Like the cheerful noises of the children outside.
"I'm feeling better, now."
~~~~~
The view in front of them opens like a wound in the planet. They are surrounded by people, all looking in the same direction, but the only sound around them is made by the cicadas. It's too overwhelming for them to talk, to make a noise. It's glorious, making them feel tiny and at the same time part of something bigger. Something more.
"How do you like it?" Cas whispers, bumping shoulders with him.
"It's everything I thought it would be." Dean answers, unwilling to raise his voice. Beneath them the Grand Canyon expands into the horizon, their presence a grain of sand.
"You know what? I've always wanted to come here with Sammy, but now I'm really glad I came with you."
Cas' face lights up. Dean brushes Cas' cheek with the back of his hand. This has been one of the best days of his life. These have been some of the best weeks of his life and Dean again regrets that they didn't do this before. That all this time, since he met Cas, he's been too afraid of what the universe might have in store for him if made a pass on the angel. Still, they now have their whole lives ahead of them to make up for lost time.
Dean steps into Cas’ personal space and presses his face into the crook of Cas' neck. He's warm and comfortable, his headache and neck pain finally gone.
"Do you remember where we parked the car?" he asks, laughing, Cas' arms around him.
~~~~
The rain is falling so hard Dean can hardly tell how many ambulances and fire-trucks are around them. One of the ambulances casts the lights over the Impala and Dean feels a bang on his chest when sees that his baby is wrapped around a telephone pole, her windshield broken, blood all over her hood.
Sam is sitting on the sidewalk curled-up on himself, his head in his hands. He looks so ridiculously small, just as tiny as he was when Dean could still pick him up. A paramedic is crouching in front of him, a hand on his shoulder saying something that Dean can't hear over the noise and the mess of the rain, the people and the sirens. Sam is rocking back and forth, his shoulders shaking.
A stretcher is being wheeled inside one of the ambulances, a body covered by a sheet on it.
Oh, god, what has he done? Did he run over someone? Did he kill an innocent civilian?
Cas is looking at him, his shoulders slumped, his eyes dark.
"Cas, what happened?"
"I'm sorry, Dean."
"What do you mean, Cas? What's going on?" Fear is starting to coil in Dean's stomach, but Cas doesn't answer. He just looks impossibly sad.
"Cas?" He steps forward and there's something like guilt etched on his face. "Cas? What did you do, Cas?"
"I just wanted you to be able to remember me." Dean opens his mouth to say something, but Cas just looks somewhere to the left of Dean's shoulder and nods. "Thank you," he says.
Dean turns to his left. She's smiling softly, her hand reaching out to him.
"It's time, Dean," Tessa says.
The End