Fiction: What May Come Never Comes - Dean/Castiel - PG-13
Title: What May Come Never Comes
Author: GothGirl
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: hints of Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Category: Angst
Notes: Thanks to off_that_bridge for the beta and for just being there. Remaining errors are mine. 1,400 words.
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 420
Feedback: is very much appreciated.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is the property of Eric Kripke. No infringement is meant.
Summary: Sam knows how to hurt Dean with words.
He tries not to think about Castiel as he paces across the room. He has more pressing concerns like his brother being a fucking demon-blood drinking vampire. What could be more pressing than that?
Dean stops pacing and pulls the peep door open. Sam is lying on the floor, curled up, clutching his gut. The screaming stopped just a few minutes ago, but the sound of his brother begging still rings in Dean's ears. He closes the hole and leans against the doorway, sliding down until his ass touches the cold concrete. How did it get to this?
Dean looks up, and remembers there's nothing there for him any more. He's gone. He said as much with words that cut deep. Dean's stomach grumbles and he can't remember the last time he ate. What does it matter? Nothing matters now. At times like this, Dean truly wishes he were still in hell. At least there he'd know what to expect. Things weren't so complicated in the pit. Dean has to laugh because he can't even believe this train of thought. But he doesn't laugh. Laughter isn't even on the agenda. A sigh of regret and so many other things he can't even name escapes his lips.
How could he have been so foolish? He tries not to think about the night he spent in a hospital bed with Castiel by his side, and how Castiel had reached out at one point to take Dean's hand in his. They'd stayed like that for hours. Castiel had squeezed Dean's hand again and again and when Dean had looked over at him, the depth of empathy in those eyes had startled Dean to his core. Dean couldn't deny the tingle Castiel's touch had sent through him even if he'd wanted to deny it. He'd finally come to terms with how that one touch had made him feel, and now this.
His feelings didn't matter now. Sam was all that mattered and Dean needed to stop thinking about what could have been and what will never be. He needs to get his head on straight (the word makes Dean grumble), for his brother's sake.
"How does it feel?" Sam says.
Dean stands when he hears Sam. His brother sounds almost normal. He opens the slot to find Sam standing in the center of the room, staring out at Dean. Sam doesn't look normal. Sam is smirking like he's just won a lottery jackpot.
"How does it feel to be dumped?" Sam says. This time Dean can hear the barely hidden mocking tone in his words.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sammy," Dean replies. He doesn't take his eyes off his brother. He watches as Sam takes a few steps closer to the door, and reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. Sam isn't blinking. That's just creepy and Dean wants to tell him so.
"We both know what I'm talking about," Sam sneers. He takes two more steps closer until he is right in front of the door, staring Dean directly in the eyes. There is nothing but anger in them now. It's an anger that Dean's never seen in Sam's eyes though if he is truthful he's seen it plenty of times.
"You should get some rest, Sammy," Dean says. He wants to look away, but he can't. If he does somehow Sam wins and Dean can't let that happen. He can't let Sam see that he's gotten to Dean.
"Jimmy was a nice guy, don't you think?" Sam says as he tilts his head sideways and smirks.
"I suppose he was," Dean says, blinking and unsure where Sam is going with this, but deep down his gut flips, because he's so sure what Sam's about to say, he should shut him out now and just go upstairs with Bobby.
"Nothing like Cas," Sam says, shaking his head and sighing. "You must have felt like a royal ass knowing what you'd done to that poor guy."
"What the hell? I didn't do anything to Jimmy," Dean says. He still feels a little bit ill and guilty when he thinks about Jimmy being shot and almost dying.
"I saw, Dean," Sam says, a gloat in his tone that made Dean's stomach drop.
"Saw?" Dean should go. He should go right now before they say things they'll both regret, but then they've already said so many things they both regret. Dean is still bleeding inside from the last regrets they shared.
"I saw what you and Castiel did in the hospital when you thought nobody was looking," Sam said. "I brought you a burger because I knew you'd hate the food in that place." Sam is right up against the slot now, and his feral eyes fill the hole.
Dean takes a few steps back, blinking, and his heart is pounding in his chest.
"Was he good? Were his lips soft as angel feathers, or were they as dry as they look?" Sam asks, moving his mouth to the hole. "Because seriously Dean. If you wanted to bat for the other team, you could have picked a better guy. Castiel is a fucking robot."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dean says, taking a few more steps back until he's up against the wall. Sam's mouth and teeth and tongue still fill the hole.
"You're always staring at him when he comes around," Sam said. "You and him making eyes at each other like you're love struck teenagers. It's disgusting. It makes me sick, Dean. My own brother sucking face with a dude and he's not even real. He's a fucking angel riding poor Jimmy's body."
Dean tries to take another step back, but he can't. He's up against a wall in more ways than one. He tries to tune Sam out. It's the addiction talking. Dean tells himself the addiction makes Sam a mean S.O.B.
"Now that you've met Jimmy, doesn't it make you feel just a little bit guilty? I mean he was married and had a kid. A cute kid too," Sam continues to taunt. He pounds on the door. "Why don't you let me out of this room, Dean?" He pounds the door again and sticks his tongue out, adding grotesque sounds as he wags his tongue at Dean.
"Shut up," Dean barely whispers.
"What was it? The fact that all the chicks we kept meeting wanted me and not you? Or maybe what should have clued me in was the succubus turning into a guy just for you. I mean, he said that you wanted him."
Dean covers his ears, but it doesn't help.
"How far did it go with Castiel, Dean?" Sam asks. His eyes are staring out at Dean now, dark and vicious. Dean can't help it. He looks and he can't look away. It's his brother, Sammy. It's his baby brother who Dean took care of all those years. "Did you suck his dick? Does he have a dick?" Sam laughs out loud and snorts because he's laughing so hard. "At least he has Jimmy's dick." The laughter is so loud now that it fills Dean's ears, and echoes through the room.
"Shut up," Dean says louder this time. He wants to go in the room and shut him up. He wants to open that door and shut him out right this second, but he can't move. He stands rooted to the spot.
"Tell me, Dean," Sam says after his laughter has died down. "Do you top or does he? Because I totally think you are a bottom. I bet Castiel is real forceful. Do his wings pop out when he..." Sam's mouth is back at the slot, lips making rude kissing noises.
"Shut up!" Dean shouts, rushing forward to pound on the door. Sam's mouth is still at the slot, his lips stretched wide with a lewd grin.
"I guess I hit a nerve," Sam said. "Open the door and we can talk about this face to face, man to homo."
Dean pounds his hands against the door a few more times, and then he reaches for the door handle, until Bobby grabs him and pulls him back.
"Don't, Dean," Bobby says. Dean hadn't even heard Bobby come downstairs. Bobby pulls Dean away and doesn't let go until they're upstairs. Dean collapses onto the sofa when Bobby finally releases him, and buries his face in his hands.
"He's going to say shit to get you riled up," Bobby says. "It don't mean nothing."
Dean takes a deep breath and throws his head back, exhaustion pulling him down. They can hear the screams from upstairs. Dean tunes them out. He wants to sleep. He wants to dream about the lake again, but he can never dream, because the dream is dead.
End
Author: GothGirl
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: hints of Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Category: Angst
Notes: Thanks to off_that_bridge for the beta and for just being there. Remaining errors are mine. 1,400 words.
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 420
Feedback: is very much appreciated.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is the property of Eric Kripke. No infringement is meant.
Summary: Sam knows how to hurt Dean with words.
He tries not to think about Castiel as he paces across the room. He has more pressing concerns like his brother being a fucking demon-blood drinking vampire. What could be more pressing than that?
Dean stops pacing and pulls the peep door open. Sam is lying on the floor, curled up, clutching his gut. The screaming stopped just a few minutes ago, but the sound of his brother begging still rings in Dean's ears. He closes the hole and leans against the doorway, sliding down until his ass touches the cold concrete. How did it get to this?
Dean looks up, and remembers there's nothing there for him any more. He's gone. He said as much with words that cut deep. Dean's stomach grumbles and he can't remember the last time he ate. What does it matter? Nothing matters now. At times like this, Dean truly wishes he were still in hell. At least there he'd know what to expect. Things weren't so complicated in the pit. Dean has to laugh because he can't even believe this train of thought. But he doesn't laugh. Laughter isn't even on the agenda. A sigh of regret and so many other things he can't even name escapes his lips.
How could he have been so foolish? He tries not to think about the night he spent in a hospital bed with Castiel by his side, and how Castiel had reached out at one point to take Dean's hand in his. They'd stayed like that for hours. Castiel had squeezed Dean's hand again and again and when Dean had looked over at him, the depth of empathy in those eyes had startled Dean to his core. Dean couldn't deny the tingle Castiel's touch had sent through him even if he'd wanted to deny it. He'd finally come to terms with how that one touch had made him feel, and now this.
His feelings didn't matter now. Sam was all that mattered and Dean needed to stop thinking about what could have been and what will never be. He needs to get his head on straight (the word makes Dean grumble), for his brother's sake.
"How does it feel?" Sam says.
Dean stands when he hears Sam. His brother sounds almost normal. He opens the slot to find Sam standing in the center of the room, staring out at Dean. Sam doesn't look normal. Sam is smirking like he's just won a lottery jackpot.
"How does it feel to be dumped?" Sam says. This time Dean can hear the barely hidden mocking tone in his words.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sammy," Dean replies. He doesn't take his eyes off his brother. He watches as Sam takes a few steps closer to the door, and reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. Sam isn't blinking. That's just creepy and Dean wants to tell him so.
"We both know what I'm talking about," Sam sneers. He takes two more steps closer until he is right in front of the door, staring Dean directly in the eyes. There is nothing but anger in them now. It's an anger that Dean's never seen in Sam's eyes though if he is truthful he's seen it plenty of times.
"You should get some rest, Sammy," Dean says. He wants to look away, but he can't. If he does somehow Sam wins and Dean can't let that happen. He can't let Sam see that he's gotten to Dean.
"Jimmy was a nice guy, don't you think?" Sam says as he tilts his head sideways and smirks.
"I suppose he was," Dean says, blinking and unsure where Sam is going with this, but deep down his gut flips, because he's so sure what Sam's about to say, he should shut him out now and just go upstairs with Bobby.
"Nothing like Cas," Sam says, shaking his head and sighing. "You must have felt like a royal ass knowing what you'd done to that poor guy."
"What the hell? I didn't do anything to Jimmy," Dean says. He still feels a little bit ill and guilty when he thinks about Jimmy being shot and almost dying.
"I saw, Dean," Sam says, a gloat in his tone that made Dean's stomach drop.
"Saw?" Dean should go. He should go right now before they say things they'll both regret, but then they've already said so many things they both regret. Dean is still bleeding inside from the last regrets they shared.
"I saw what you and Castiel did in the hospital when you thought nobody was looking," Sam said. "I brought you a burger because I knew you'd hate the food in that place." Sam is right up against the slot now, and his feral eyes fill the hole.
Dean takes a few steps back, blinking, and his heart is pounding in his chest.
"Was he good? Were his lips soft as angel feathers, or were they as dry as they look?" Sam asks, moving his mouth to the hole. "Because seriously Dean. If you wanted to bat for the other team, you could have picked a better guy. Castiel is a fucking robot."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dean says, taking a few more steps back until he's up against the wall. Sam's mouth and teeth and tongue still fill the hole.
"You're always staring at him when he comes around," Sam said. "You and him making eyes at each other like you're love struck teenagers. It's disgusting. It makes me sick, Dean. My own brother sucking face with a dude and he's not even real. He's a fucking angel riding poor Jimmy's body."
Dean tries to take another step back, but he can't. He's up against a wall in more ways than one. He tries to tune Sam out. It's the addiction talking. Dean tells himself the addiction makes Sam a mean S.O.B.
"Now that you've met Jimmy, doesn't it make you feel just a little bit guilty? I mean he was married and had a kid. A cute kid too," Sam continues to taunt. He pounds on the door. "Why don't you let me out of this room, Dean?" He pounds the door again and sticks his tongue out, adding grotesque sounds as he wags his tongue at Dean.
"Shut up," Dean barely whispers.
"What was it? The fact that all the chicks we kept meeting wanted me and not you? Or maybe what should have clued me in was the succubus turning into a guy just for you. I mean, he said that you wanted him."
Dean covers his ears, but it doesn't help.
"How far did it go with Castiel, Dean?" Sam asks. His eyes are staring out at Dean now, dark and vicious. Dean can't help it. He looks and he can't look away. It's his brother, Sammy. It's his baby brother who Dean took care of all those years. "Did you suck his dick? Does he have a dick?" Sam laughs out loud and snorts because he's laughing so hard. "At least he has Jimmy's dick." The laughter is so loud now that it fills Dean's ears, and echoes through the room.
"Shut up," Dean says louder this time. He wants to go in the room and shut him up. He wants to open that door and shut him out right this second, but he can't move. He stands rooted to the spot.
"Tell me, Dean," Sam says after his laughter has died down. "Do you top or does he? Because I totally think you are a bottom. I bet Castiel is real forceful. Do his wings pop out when he..." Sam's mouth is back at the slot, lips making rude kissing noises.
"Shut up!" Dean shouts, rushing forward to pound on the door. Sam's mouth is still at the slot, his lips stretched wide with a lewd grin.
"I guess I hit a nerve," Sam said. "Open the door and we can talk about this face to face, man to homo."
Dean pounds his hands against the door a few more times, and then he reaches for the door handle, until Bobby grabs him and pulls him back.
"Don't, Dean," Bobby says. Dean hadn't even heard Bobby come downstairs. Bobby pulls Dean away and doesn't let go until they're upstairs. Dean collapses onto the sofa when Bobby finally releases him, and buries his face in his hands.
"He's going to say shit to get you riled up," Bobby says. "It don't mean nothing."
Dean takes a deep breath and throws his head back, exhaustion pulling him down. They can hear the screams from upstairs. Dean tunes them out. He wants to sleep. He wants to dream about the lake again, but he can never dream, because the dream is dead.
End