FIC: Tripping (NC-17) Chapter 06/13
What do you do when the Universe itself seems to have decided you belong with your very stoic, very angelic, very MALE hunting companion?
Dean's about to find out.
Chapter 06 - Knock, knock, knockin'
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The days following were hell. When Dean wasn't listening to his brother's pained cries at the foot of the basement stairs he was outside, wandering the broken down paths of Bobby's junkyard, bottle of jack in hand. Not that the alcohol helped. Nothing did. Nothing except...
But no - he wasn't going there.
He'd avoided Cas as much as he could given their close quarters. There were times though, when he could feel the angel's eyes on him; following him - watching for the tell-tale signs of Dean's skirmish with Famine and what it had revealed. It never failed to make Dean grind his teeth. The blowup was bound to happen sooner or later but even Dean couldn't have predicted the biting ferocity to it when it did.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Stop looking at me like that," Dean growled, voice rough with liquor. Across from him, leaning against the door of Sam's self imposed prison, Castiel cocked his head. For once Dean's little brother was silent beyond the steel door, making Cas's reply ring clear.
"How am I looking at you?" he asked quizzically, his calm tone grating across Dean's already fired nerves, spilling gasoline.
"Like you're waiting for me to drop dead at any moment," Dean said roughly. "Stop it, I'm fine."
"You are not fine," Castiel said surely, his voice brooking no argument.
Dean took a deep pull of the bottle in his hand - Wild Turkey today - uncaring that the action all but proved Cas's point. "It's none of your damn business how I am," he said gruffly.
Cas frowned at the statement, something Dean struggled not to feel bad for. "It is my business-" Castiel began, only to pause as Dean snorted harshly.
"Why, because God's decided we belong together?" he said angrily, words cutting and wrong but not finding it within himself to stop. "Going to be a good little soldier and follow this order too?"
For a long moment Castiel only glared as him and Dean looked away despite himself. "Just do us both a favour and stay the fuck away from me," he said, uncaring that his voice sounded broken and harsh. Uncaring too that nothing within him could back up the statement with anything other than apology and horror. He didn't indulge the feelings though - not even when the sound of wings pervaded the silence and he looked up to find himself alone in the dark.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dean was upset. This was nothing inherently new to Castiel - Dean had been upset from the moment Castiel met him. The hunter had even sometimes been upset with him, particularly in the early days when Castiel was still among the legion. But never before had he borne the brunt of such unbridled anger.
Castiel was alarmed to find the sensation prickled at him like nothing else he'd experienced. The frustration and ire he felt directed at him seemed to seed in his mind and grow it's likeness. He found himself wanting to rage and yell himself. And so he'd left, lest his emotions drag him into losing control.
Emotions. It was a trivial word, or it had been once upon a time. Ever since he'd rebelled - perhaps even a time before that - Castiel had felt his susceptibility to the range of them growing. After living his life in a calm shell of obedient stability it was a painful shock to find his thoughts and feelings raging around him. Even more surreal was the certainty that this, him feeling - almost as humans did - shouldn't have been possible.
He was not human, he knew that. And he was not falling. His grace was intact even with his powers diminished by his isolation from heaven. He was still an angel. And yet he was achieving what angel's should not. He was feeling.
If his increased awareness of Dean wasn't proof enough, his own reaction to Dean's angry words certainly was. Cas wanted to punch something. And so, he flew to the Himalayas and caused an avalanche. In his defence it was a rather small one and there had been no people in the area. All in all, taking his temper out on the environment could probably be forgiven.
The fact that he'd had to in the first place...likely not.
He wondered idly what his angelic brethren would make of him now. A broken traitor with filthy mortal habits. And tied to a human no less.
Of course that was probably the biggest of his problems right now.
He'd thought on it from every angle. For good nor ill there was no logical reason for God to have ordered he and Dean marked. And even if he had, he must have known that Dean at least would rebel against it the moment he found out it had been orchestrated. Castiel himself...well, he didn't quite know how he...yes, how he felt about things.
Contrary to Dean's harsh jab, he was not willing to simply fall into line with this particular order, even if it had come from God himself. Something which had utterly and thoroughly horrified him the moment he'd realised it of course. It had been one thing to rebel against 'upper-management' as Sam had once called his superiors, but to go against the will of God...
Castiel was in unknown and utterly terrifying territory. And he was alone.
He hadn't realised how much he'd come to rely on the Winchesters to keep him grounded; keep him sane. Being cut off from heaven had done more than cull his power, it had isolated him from everyone and everything he'd ever known. Dean and Sam, even Bobby to an extent - they had been his only connection; his only reminder of why he'd rebelled in the first place.
And he was losing them. All because God had chosen to try and force events. For the first time in his millennia of existence Castiel found himself angry at his father. In retrospect it was that anger that drove him to find the Cupid. Anger and frustration. Because while he certainly couldn't fix the situation, he could try to understand it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Brother!” the Cupid enthused upon spotting Castiel, only to get a rude shock a moment later as the other angel grabbed him - dragging him through flight to an empty lot behind the club the cherub had been haunting. The Cupid thought it rather rude, particularly as he hadn’t even managed to find the couple he’d been assigned yet. One look at the expression on Castiel’s face though and the Cupid hastily re-shuffled his priorities.
It wasn’t like he was going off job after-all - Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel were his charges too. Contrary to popular belief his job didn’t end with the prick of the proverbial arrow, oh no. Fixing his smile in place the Cupid turned to face his glowering charge.
“What can I do for you brother?” he asked cheerfully.
“You are going to tell me what was done to us,” Castiel ordered. “Exactly.”
“Done to you?” the Cupid asked in confusion.
“How did you mark Dean Winchester and I?” Castiel growled and the Cupid was a bit taken aback at the bubbling emotion in his brother’s voice. He would be the first to admit it, when he’d first heard tell of the job of Castiel and Dean he’d been rather dubious. Dean Winchester was one thing - though obviously extraordinary, the man was still human and so subject to human attachment; human emotions. Castiel however…
The Cupid raised his brows at the angel even now glaring at him in very real frustration. The Cupid was a guru of human emotion - it was in his job description. It took only one look at Castiel to know where his brother's current anger stemmed from. Turmoil, frustration…unrequited love. This…should not have been possible.
“Oh no,” the cupid said, unable to hide the startled tone in his voice. “We didn't mark you guys.”
And they hadn’t. Something that made what was happening even more incredible. The Cupid found the happiness bubbling up inside of him, as it always did upon a job well done.
“You said-” Castiel frowned only to be cut off as the cupid slapped him jovially on the back.
“The directive was matchmaking you silly goose,” the cupid said with a grin, pausing when Castiel's frown didn't let up. It was unsurprising in a way - the higher ranks of his brethren were nothing if not lacking in subtlety. Given the task he and his fellow Cupids had been assigned they probably would have just twisted the emotions into the right shape and been on their merry way. Poor, short-sighted ducks.
"Each couple requires something different," the cupid explained. "Sometimes you can change the people but...well, you two?" the Cupid laughed lightly. "With everything you are and all you've seen - messing with your emotions was just going to end in tears."
Not to mention blood, the Cupid thought, thinking back to the dark look in Dean's eyes when he'd been told of the match. Scary human that one. He could see why the universe had chosen him as Michael’s vessel.
"So what did you...mess with?" Castiel asked, as though testing the phrase out. No doubt Dean Winchester’s influence. The Cupid grinned.
"Why, everything else silly," he said happily causing Castiel's frown of confusion to deepen.
"What does that mean?" the angel asked, glaring in the face of the Cupid’s proud euphoria.
"We gave the universe a little nudge," the Cupid explained. "Made the world believe you two belonged together. Which you do of course."
It had been a dickens to organise as well. He’d not known why Father had gone to so much trouble for something that had such little hope of success. Until now of course. The unbridled emotion playing across his brother’s face was totally and utterly worth it all. As all love was in the end.
“You...” Castiel stumbled incredulously. “You changed the fabric of reality?”
“Mmmhmm,” the Cupid said happily. “It was a big job.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
An hour later Castiel was still processing things. Perched high in the Himalayas, he idly trailed one hand through untouched snow as his mind worked.
His mind. His emotions. They hadn't been touched by the Cupid's power. Castiel didn't know if he was relieved or more upset. Because if he hadn't been marked, that meant everything he was experiencing...everything he was feeling, truly was his.
It was foolish of course to have thought they weren’t. If he was being completely honest with himself, something he’d never really had to consciously try for before now, he could admit that the possibility of these feelings had always been there inside of him. Loyalty, devotion…and something else that made his breath stutter in his throat when he thought on it. They had always been there - the Cupids had just nudged his interest in a certain direction.
In a way it was rather ingenious. The Cupid had been right when he'd said that altering Dean's thoughts or perceptions would not have been taken well - case in point their situation right now. And so the Cupids had orchestrated events to simply...suggest the possibility.
The power of suggestion. Castiel suddenly understood quite clearly what the phrase meant.
Because the Cupids had succeeded - at least on Castiel's end. His reaction to Famine's power had been proof enough of that. He could still remember the hunger ripping into him - the need. Need to save Dean; need to keep him; need to make him his.
Dean should know what the Cupid had told him; Castiel knew that much. To leave the hunter under false impressions was only going to lead to chaos. Mind made up, Castiel spread his wings and flew on to Bobby's. The old hunter would know where the boys were.
Of course when he found them, Sam and Dean were dead.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sam had been having thanksgiving dinner - his first thanksgiving dinner - when he'd heard Cas's voice filtering in from the lounge. To say the news of his death had come as a shock would have been a bit of an understatement, particularly when Cas had told him where he'd ended up.
Because really, him? In heaven? After everything he'd done?
To his chagrin Cas had seemed as surprised at the fact as he was but his sarcastic 'gee thanks' had been wasted on the angel whose deadpan reply had simply been 'your welcome'. Cas had then gone on to direct him to follow the road, find Dean and talk to Joshua - the only angel in heaven currently lending an ear to god. Easy as pie.
Ha!
The road - that had been easy enough. Finding Dean however... God, Sam severely wished he hadn't. He really should have known to turn back when he walked through a doorway into Chuck's living room. Failing that he should have bolted upon spotting Dean and Cas, the only two occupants. As it was he was too late to announce himself. Too late to plug his ears, close his eyes and hum his way through it like a three year old ignoring a scolding.
No, in the end he caught his brother making out with Castiel as a full frontal, surround sound experience. And proper making out it was too. When Sam had pictured - despite trying very, very hard not to - his brother and Cas's kiss the night of the Becky fiasco, he'd imagined a pained peck on the lips - probably followed by a lot of swearing and epic embarrassment. Not...not THIS.
This was... Sam watched as Castiel's fingers carded through Dean's hair causing his brother to moan - actually freaking moan... This was watching two people with a very real attraction to each other just discovering the fact. This was Castiel, a freaking VIRGIN for Christ’s sake, kissing his brother with such skill that he was making the damn guy shake. This was watching his brother fall for a freaking DUDE.
Holy mother of FUCK.
He watched incredulously as Castiel bailed Dean up against the invisible barrier, pressing impossibly closer and causing his brother to make another of those god-awful sounds Sam really could have lived his whole life without ever, ever hearing thankyouverymuch.
Despite the horror of the situation though, Sam couldn't seem to look away. It was just too fucking surreal, watching Dean Emotional-Wall-of-China Winchester let go of himself so thoroughly. Sam had seen Dean with women - as much as he wished he hadn't - but his brother had never looked like this. Completely undone and entirely...involved.
Sam had no illusions about his big brother. He knew Dean knew his own emotions about as well as he knew Russian Ballet. And getting him to talk about them? Just...no. To that end Sam had had to become a bit of an expert on the emotional range and cues of Dean Winchester. What he was witnessing here though...this was wholly new.
Sam had to wonder if his brother even knew what he was feeling. Likely not considering what he'd heard of Dean and Cas's parting words after the whole Famine catastrophe.
Sam had been confused as Dean had related the reason for Cas's sudden absence. Or rather the lack of reason. His brother was nothing if not painfully stubborn on uncomfortable matters and so Sam had received a vague ‘he'll come when we call’ and that had been it. Watching this now though and knowing what he did about the Cupid's mark, Sam was putting together a fairly full picture of what had happened. And why.
Dean was a stubborn, stupid fucking moron.
The scene before Sam shifted suddenly as the barrier of the spell dropped, sending Dean and Cas crashing into the back of Chuck’s couch. Dean yelped hilariously and Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing - God knew, he needed to find some part of this situation funny or he was going to go mental. Then he caught sight of the look on Dean's face as Castiel smirked at him and Sam lost it, snorting loudly enough that Dean just about broke his neck whipping around to face him. Sam made a point of plastering his biggest shit-eating grin on as Castiel disappeared with a lingering sound of wings.
"So," he said happily. "This is your heaven."
The look on Dean's face almost made the entire horrific situation worth it.
"My what?!"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dean hated heaven. It was a harsh stand to take but there you go.
If having Sam witness one of the most humiliating moments of his life wasn't bad enough, tracking down Joshua and hearing with his own two ears that God didn't give a rats ass was just the icing on the whole fucked cake.
“God saved you already. He put you on that plane. He brought back Castiel. He passed down an order to the Cupids…”
“Yeah, thank him for that by the way,” Dean had growled. “I'm just dancing in my petticoats.”
Joshua had just looked at him, serious and sure for what seemed an age and Dean had suddenly and uncomfortably known where Castiel got the talent from. He hadn’t even been able to ask Joshua why God had seen fit to match him up with an angel. They’d been given the friggin' celestial brushoff.
But possibly worst of all had been the look on Cas's face when they'd related what Joshua had told them. Cas's heart had split in two, right there in front of him and Dean had been about to reach out despite himself before Cas had suddenly disappeared in a flurry of wings.
They didn't see him for days. And Dean couldn't even bring himself to be disgusted at the worry that gnawed at his insides because of it.
Fucking heaven.
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