What makes you different?
Title: What makes you different?
Author: fate_incomplete
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None. Set sometime mid to late season 4.
Characters: Dean, Castiel
Word Count: 420
A/N: Written for lonewytch's prompt of season 4 Dean/Cas - healing. It has been a long time since I wrote for Supernatural. I hope you enjoy this hun.
Summary: Every instinct screamed at Dean not to trust this damn angel, even as some part of him already did.
.......................
Dean flinched as Castiel raised his hand, every instinct screaming not to trust this damn angel, even as some part of him already did. He shoved that part of himself aside, that bit that fought against every instinct he had ever known.
He didn't trust the angels, full stop. Yet no matter how much he told himself that, he couldn't help the footnote that continued to attach itself to that statement. There was something different about Castiel, even if he had no idea exactly what that was.
That conflict made him push back, made him push Castiel further then was strictly sane, testing and prodding to see just how far he could go.
Castiel didn't yield, he didn't snap either, or mostly not anyway.
There was that threat hanging in the air between them, but there was doubt as well. This being that could kill him without a thought, yet didn't. Maybe it was on orders, orders Dean didn't even bother to try and understand, or maybe it was something else entirely.
The thing was, Dean just didn't know, and he hated not knowing. Monsters were meant to be monster. Angels, well angels weren't even meant to exist, yet they did.
He wished he had never met one, even as he knew he was grateful he had. Hell still clung to him, still had it claws in him even as he shoved every memory of it down into some dark part of himself. Maybe that was all it was, some debt he could never repay, had never asked for that made him see this angel different.
He knew that wasn't true either.
There was just something different, something familiar, a common ground they both found themselves standing on that forged some bond he refused to acknowledge.
Dean watched as Castiel tilted his head in that infuriating way as his hand paused, hanging awkwardly in mid gesture, blue eyes wide and curious. Waiting for some signal from Dean, even though there was nothing Dean could do to stop him anyway. Dean didn't say anything, didn't try to stop him, so Castiel moved his hand, gently placing fingers to Dean's forehead.
The cuts, abrasion, every bruise and ache disappeared from Dean's body.
No, Dean didn't trust the angels as far as he could throw them, but Castiel? Dean didn't know when it was he started to see his angel as being different. There was something there, something between them that he didn't understand, but maybe he didn't need to.
.......................
Author: fate_incomplete
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None. Set sometime mid to late season 4.
Characters: Dean, Castiel
Word Count: 420
A/N: Written for lonewytch's prompt of season 4 Dean/Cas - healing. It has been a long time since I wrote for Supernatural. I hope you enjoy this hun.
Summary: Every instinct screamed at Dean not to trust this damn angel, even as some part of him already did.
.......................
Dean flinched as Castiel raised his hand, every instinct screaming not to trust this damn angel, even as some part of him already did. He shoved that part of himself aside, that bit that fought against every instinct he had ever known.
He didn't trust the angels, full stop. Yet no matter how much he told himself that, he couldn't help the footnote that continued to attach itself to that statement. There was something different about Castiel, even if he had no idea exactly what that was.
That conflict made him push back, made him push Castiel further then was strictly sane, testing and prodding to see just how far he could go.
Castiel didn't yield, he didn't snap either, or mostly not anyway.
There was that threat hanging in the air between them, but there was doubt as well. This being that could kill him without a thought, yet didn't. Maybe it was on orders, orders Dean didn't even bother to try and understand, or maybe it was something else entirely.
The thing was, Dean just didn't know, and he hated not knowing. Monsters were meant to be monster. Angels, well angels weren't even meant to exist, yet they did.
He wished he had never met one, even as he knew he was grateful he had. Hell still clung to him, still had it claws in him even as he shoved every memory of it down into some dark part of himself. Maybe that was all it was, some debt he could never repay, had never asked for that made him see this angel different.
He knew that wasn't true either.
There was just something different, something familiar, a common ground they both found themselves standing on that forged some bond he refused to acknowledge.
Dean watched as Castiel tilted his head in that infuriating way as his hand paused, hanging awkwardly in mid gesture, blue eyes wide and curious. Waiting for some signal from Dean, even though there was nothing Dean could do to stop him anyway. Dean didn't say anything, didn't try to stop him, so Castiel moved his hand, gently placing fingers to Dean's forehead.
The cuts, abrasion, every bruise and ache disappeared from Dean's body.
No, Dean didn't trust the angels as far as he could throw them, but Castiel? Dean didn't know when it was he started to see his angel as being different. There was something there, something between them that he didn't understand, but maybe he didn't need to.
.......................