"Dream a little dream of me"
Title: Dream a little dream of me
Author: Hevyyd
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: alternate ending to 5x22
Warnings: heavy-handed angst
Word Count: 3,406
Summary: Castiel and Bobby are at their wits end as Dean sinks further and further into himself
in the aftermath of Stull Cemetery. When all seems lost, something strange happens to Dean,
but is it a blessing or a curse?
A/N: This was written while listening to the song 'Dream a little dream of me'. Don't you live some
good, old-fashioned foreshadowing? :D
MASTERPOST
"Hello Dean."
Two words, that was all it ever took to make his beaten and weary hunter lift his face from the pane of glass upon which it rested and look up at Castiel. Two words and the man came alive again, if only just so. Ever since Stull Dean had fallen to pieces, at first Castiel and Bobby thought that it was just grief-after having to kill his brother to save the world, Dean deserved grief-but no. The man had slipped into a deep, silent depression, his appetite waned until he could barely consume solid foods, his dreams were so riddled with evil that he could no longer sleep.
More than once Castiel had walked into Dean's dream world in an attempt to steer his human towards kinder, more restful dreams, only to be banished from Deans mind with angry shouts and curses, one of which had stung most deeply.
"You don't know me, you don't care about me, you never cared, I was like a lab-rat to you." The first time Castiel heard those words, thick with sorrow and venom his vessel almost began to shed tears.
Two months had gone by before Bobby had given up, he couldn't stand Dean wallowing in misery and had to do something. At first the human had tried approaching Dean kindly, trying to gain a rapport and build the young hunters confidence back up. Nothing. Anger didn't fare much better, Bobby raged and tried every guilt tactic he could to inspire some fight in Dean, all it earned were a few silent tears and Dean curling into a ball and rocking himself back and forth. When they had tried everything they could Bobby finally checked Dean into a hospital.
The doctors there were very kind an patient with Dean, and they assured Castiel, who was loathe to leave his hunters side despite having to constantly return to heaven to keep things in order, that Dean would be well taken care of and hopefully would heal. Castiel relented but insisted on visiting his human every three months on the dot. Today was one such visit.
Dean slowly lifted his head from against the cool glass and looked at Castiel. The angel hated seeing him like this, it had been a year now since Sam's death and the ravages of Dean's sadness had destroyed him, his skin was sickly and lacked the glow of health it used to, his eyes were hollow and sunken-in, he had lost more weight than as healthy due to lack of sleep and proper nutrition, where once he had been muscular and toned, Dean Winchester was now thin and frail. But the worst was his soul. It had always been so bright, even in his darkest hour it shone with an uncommon radiance, but now it sputtered, like a candle about to extinguish. Sometimes it became so dim Castiel could no longer even see it.
Castiel sat on the opposite end of the table and tried his best to smile for Dean, not that it mattered, nowadays Dean was either unresponsive or held the same expression to such a degree one couldn't even be sure if he was wholly present at any given time.
"So Dean, how have you been?
Nothing.
"Heaven moves well these days, I am confident within another years time it will have settled to the point where I can visit you more often, would you like that?"
Nothing.
"Sam is happy you know, but also worried. I visit him in heaven, and he does not blame you for what happened. He worries for you Dean, he wishes for you to be happy too."
Dean closed both eyes at the mention of Sam's name and two tears rolled down his cheeks before opening them again, his face deadpan as before.
"Do you not wish to be happy Dean?"
Nothing.
"I miss the friendship we once shared, I do not wish to lose you."
Nothing.
"I understand, you do not wish to talk about feelings. Perhaps a walk then? The weather is quite beautiful and a book I read says sunlight is good for humans."
Dean responded by reaching for the walking-aid he used now, he had grown too weak to support his own weight, and standing up. Castiel smiled at him and took his human outside. The two of them walked around the small, enclosed park for ten minutes, Castiel talking about anything at all simply to let the hunter hear his voice, before Dean grew tired and needed to sit once more. They found a park bench and Castiel helped ease the human into a sitting position.
It pained Castiel to see Dean like this, to see his human so weak. He wished to soothe him and to tell the hunter of his feelings. But he had missed his chance, and now would never feel those soft lips against his. When he confided in his closest brothers and sisters of what had awakened in his heart, some were shocked, others offered advice of how he might still have a chance, others simply didn't know enough about emotion to respond.
He had prayed to his father for guidance, he knew that the love he felt for Dean was a gift, but he had no idea what to do with it or how to proceed. Surely just a little guidance was not so much to ask? Apparently it was, for his father had never answered his prayers.
He looked over at Dean and looked thoughtful for a moment. Perhaps this was penance, a punishment of sorts even? He had brought so much misery into Deans life with just his presence alone, he had asked so much, and never showed the human quarter or compromise. Perhaps his father wanted Castiel's love to go unrequited, as a lesson that one cannot expect a human to simply bear the punishment that Dean had and then simply bounce back. If this was the case, Castiel vowed he would do whatever it took to make the rest of Deans life comfortable and happy, and if that meant nursing him back to health and finding a way for him to live a peaceful life with woman and child, he would do it. For this human, Castiel could abandon himself and his desires.
"Would you like something to eat Dean?"
Nothing.
"I have been learning how to cook you see, it fascinates me what artistry humans can make from such base ingredients." Castiel left out the part where he had refused to his powers to aid in the task and had almost caught Bobby's kitchen aflame several times in the learning curve. Dean didn't care about Castiel or his mistakes anyway, so why bother him?
"I figured something rich and solid would not be good for your stomach, but perhaps homemade apple sauce? Would this be sufficient?"
Nothing. Then Deans stomach growled and he looked over at Castiel, his expression unchanged, and nodded once.
Castiel smiled again and pulled out a small jar of the apple sauce he had made as well as a spoon. He used a small fraction of his power to ensure it was clean and free of germs, Deans immune system was very weak these days and he caught sickness easily, and began to spoon-feed his hunter. The moment passed between them but Dean refused more after only a handful of swallows. Castiel wished to comment on this but held his tongue, Dean cared not for his concerns. Instead he turned his attention to the nurse walking across the grass towards him.
"Oh, you got him to eat, that's wonderful! Maybe you should bring him some home-cooked food more often, I'm sure that will just warm him up." Castiel liked this nurse, she was pretty and the sun made her rich brown skin glow healthfully. But most importantly she was very gentle and kind with Dean and he seemed to like her more than the other nurses.
"I shall do that then." Castiel smiled up at the nurse.
"We have to cut your visit short toady I'm afraid, it's Deans quiet time and if he doesn't get to his room by a certain time he gets rather uncooperative, I hope you understand."
"Oh, oh. Of course, I will go now."
The nurse led Dean back to his room as Castiel watched in silence. When they were out of sight he tuned his gaze towards the sky, towards the golden sun and said aloud, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Please Father, I beg of you. I will pay any price, just give him back to me."
*
Dean sat alone in his room, staring at the mirror, his hands were rested comfortably on his knees, but all he cared about was the man sitting in front of him. The man had green eyes, short brown hair and a strong jaw. His body was muscled and his skin had a healthy glow, it was Dean Winchester.
"Hey." Dean said, his voice calm and his position on the chair relaxed.
Dean simply stared.
"Stop it Dean," the mirror said to him, "killing us wont solve anything, shit we'd probably wind up in hell since suicides don't go to heaven."
Dean continued to stare at himself in the mirror, a raw ache in the center of his chest throbbed dully.
"DAMNIT DEAN!" The mirror was now yelling at him, his reflection stood up and threw the chair across the room angrily. "Don't you care about anything anymore? Does any of it matter? You saved the god-damn world and Sammy even got to go to heaven! He. Is. Not. Suffering. You. Moron! Cas said it himself."
The expression Dean gave the mirror said differently.
"What, now your doubting Cas? He's only ever done what's best for us, fuck Dean did you not realize he fucking made you food? MADE IT. HIMSELF. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
Nothing.
"Dean please," now the mirror was crying, he was begging with himself, "Don't do this man, I don't want to die. Your killing us both, don't you care? Dean?"
Dean closed his eyes and tears ran down his cheeks. In the center of his chest, a black maelstrom roared hungrily. It had started after he had ended the Apocalypse.
Death had offered Dean two choices, one was to lock Lucifer away, with Sam still his puppet, and the other was to kill Lucifer, ending all possibility of another Apocalypse ever starting. Dean had chosen the latter, but he learned in retrospect the price had been to great. In order to ensure Lucifer's demise he would have to don the horseman ring of death and shoot his brother in the heart. At the very last moment he tried to back out, but his pact with Death kicked in and, against is will, he drew th Colt and murdered his brother.
The pit in his stomach began to grow as he grieved, it swallowed up his insides, and slowly everything else as well. After two months the pit was still hungry, but Dean was hollow, every fiber of his body was in constant, throbbing pain, and his ability to feel any emotion but constant sadness was drowned out. He would have gone to sleep and never waken except that his nightmares could still make him wake, screaming in terror.
Now there was nothing that did not hurt Dean, no soft touch on the shoulder that made him recoil, no soothing word that reminded him of his incinerated mother, no kind glance that made him think of Sammy. Oh Sammy, Dean would think, What have I done to you.
Dean was a murderer, he had never thought of himself as such, even after countless monsters and demons and tortured souls. But the moment he put a bullet in his brothers heart, he was a murderer.
And murderers deserved an empty life and a slow death.
His reflection had disappeared and now Dean stared at himself again, uncaring.
*
Castiel had just returned from heaven when his phone rang. He had been there for but a day and quickly checked the device to see who needed him, it was Bobby.
"Hello." Castiel said calmly, but warmly.
"Cas, I think you need to get to the hospital it's Dean, he-" Bobby wasn't able to finish his sentence. At the mere mention of Deans name the angel had already flown to the older hunters side and materialized in front of him.
The man suppressed the urge to jump.
"What is the matter with Dean." Castiel asked, less question and more statement, his blue eyes were burning defensively, if these human doctors had let anything happen to his Dean he would smite this entire building.
"He's eating."
"What?"
"Yeah," Bobby said, sounding just as amazed as Castiel felt. "I got a call from the hospital, they say Dean is up and about, more energetic than usual. He still don't like people touching him much, but they say he's eating so I came to check on him and then thought you should be here too."
"Can we see him now?" Castiel asked, impatiently.
Bobby nodded and led the way to the small cafeteria where Dean sat, wolfing down oatmeal as though it was the last meal he would ever eat. Castiel simply stared, it was as though overnight the weight of Deans despair had been lifted from his shoulders, his skin had regained some of it's glow, and his eyes, still sunken in, were more attentive than ever. In fact he could hardly keep track of them as they darted from place to place drinking in every minor detail as hungrily as Dean attacked the soft food lain before him.
One of the nurses walked over to Dean and attempted to get his attention, eliciting no response. It wasn't until she gently touched his shoulder that he snapped back and scooted his chair away from her as though she had struck him.
"I'm sorry Dean." The nurse began, trying to placate him, "I didn't mean to scare you, just wanted to tell you your friends are back."
Dean tilted his head to one side in a manner that was all too familiar to Castiel, he had performed the same gesture countless times when he had first begun to interact with Dean. It seemed so long ago now, like another lifetime. He took a moment to peer beyond Deans skin and his breath caught, causing Bobby to look at him questioningly.
"What is it Cas?" The older hunter inquired.
"His soul," Castiel began slowly, "before it flickered and sputtered, it's light being weighed down by whatever evil tormented Dean, but now it's glow is consistent again, steady. But something is different."
"Different? How does a soul change overnight?"
"It doesn't, at least not usually. I have heard tales of souls taking on drastic changes, usually in response to trauma or perhaps a genuine desire to repent for past sins can cause a person to undergo a massive change, but this? It's like what I see now is Dean, but at the same time is not Dean." He wished to say more, but the nurse walked back over to them so he held his thoughts.
"I'm sorry, I'm really not sure what to say." She looked rather dejected, Castiel assumed it was because Dean didn't mind her as much before, but now seemed terrified of the kind woman. "He wont let anyone near him, not even the doctors. All he wants to do is eat and stare at everything."
"May I," Castiel began, choosing his words slowly, "may I attempt to speak with him? It is entirely possible he will simply recoil, but please..." He had to know for certain, had to confirm the doubts plaguing his mind.
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."
Castiel thanked the nurse while Bobby took a seat and watched from afar. The angel slowly stalked over the Dean and sat a ways away from him, echoes of his lesson on personal space ringing in his ears. He made sure to stay at least three feet away and then looked towards Dean, the human stared at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.
"Hello Dean." Castiel said, hoping his tried and true greeting would evoke a response.
Dean tilted his head to the side again, but said nothing.
A knot twisted in Castiel's stomach as he set his hand on the table before Dean. "I would like to place two fingers on your forehead, may I do this?" He said, pantomiming the action in case Dean couldn't, for whatever reason, understand his meaning.
Dean didn't reply, but when Castiel reached out to touch the human, he simply closed his eyes and did not flinch away. Castiel's fingers brushed up against the sickly, slightly clammy skin and he attempted to sink his consciousness within Dean, attempting to find rhyme or reason within the hunters thoughts and memories.
But there were none.
Castiel's eyes went wide as he recoiled from Dean and stood up suddenly, his heart was thundering in his chest and it was all he could do to prevent himself from hyperventilating. Bobby rushed to his side immediately.
"Cas?" The older hunter inquired, "What's the matter?"
"It's Dean, or should I say, it's not Dean."
"Come again?" Bobby raised an eyebrow at Castiel, clearly needing more of an explanation than that. The angel could hardly blame him.
"It's his mind, it's been wiped clean, I could find no traces of him within his consciousness."
"What in the world..." Bobby trailed off, lost in thought.
Castiel looked down towards Dean, still gazing at the two of them in wonder, and something clicked in his head. Perhaps this was his fathers answer to his plea, a poor excuse for a miracle, but Dean no longer seemed to be in pain. Perhaps this was a second chance for the frail hunter, with no memory of his previous life, perhaps Bobby could take him in, rehabilitate him. Perhaps they could guide him towards wife and child, a simple existence unaware of real danger.
A life without me, Castiel despaired inwardly at his Fathers cruel verdict. So this is to be my penance, I must care for Dean and raise him as one might raise a child, and then I must let him go his own way. If that was the case, at least Dean would be free of pain. Castiel silently wished his emotions could have been erased along with Deans memories, but knew that in order to serve sentence he needed to actually suffer for his transgression. After all, an angel in love with a human? Castiel was a fool.
He walked over to Dean and knelt before him. "Hello Dean." He began again.
The hunter titled his head in response, perhaps he did not know his name was Dean?
Castiel considered how to proceed, but before he could stop himself he had lifted a hand and placed it gingerly upon the hunters chest, over his heart. "Dean." He said softly, eyes glistening with the potential for tears even as his face remained stoic.
"Dean." The hunter repeated.
"Yes, Dean." Castiel smiled, he then took on of the hunters hands and placed it upon his own breast, letting the human feel his steady, gentle heartbeat. "Castiel." He said, gently depressing Deans fingers upon his chest.
"Cas." Dean said, Castiel stifled a bitter sob as a cough and then smiled back at Dean. Even with no memories he could still be Cas to his human, perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. "Cas." Dean said again, playing with the words on his tongue, his eyes glazed as though trying to recall something that simply wasn't there.
Then, much to Bobby's surprise and Castiel's horror, Dean lifted Castiel's hand from his chest and placed it on his shoulder, the angels fingertips brushing against raised skin, the mark of an angel seared into human flesh. Dean spent several seconds aligning the fingers just right before firmly pressing the hand into his skin and exhaling pleasurably, his eyes closing and a warm smile began to glow across the hunters face.
"Cas." Dean said again, his voice rich with a mix of what Castiel could only imagine to be serenity, ecstasy, and reverence, "Cas."
"Yes Dean," Castiel chocked, his gravelly voice bottoming out as tears began to roll down his cheeks. "Cas."
Author: Hevyyd
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: alternate ending to 5x22
Warnings: heavy-handed angst
Word Count: 3,406
Summary: Castiel and Bobby are at their wits end as Dean sinks further and further into himself
in the aftermath of Stull Cemetery. When all seems lost, something strange happens to Dean,
but is it a blessing or a curse?
A/N: This was written while listening to the song 'Dream a little dream of me'. Don't you live some
good, old-fashioned foreshadowing? :D
MASTERPOST
"Hello Dean."
Two words, that was all it ever took to make his beaten and weary hunter lift his face from the pane of glass upon which it rested and look up at Castiel. Two words and the man came alive again, if only just so. Ever since Stull Dean had fallen to pieces, at first Castiel and Bobby thought that it was just grief-after having to kill his brother to save the world, Dean deserved grief-but no. The man had slipped into a deep, silent depression, his appetite waned until he could barely consume solid foods, his dreams were so riddled with evil that he could no longer sleep.
More than once Castiel had walked into Dean's dream world in an attempt to steer his human towards kinder, more restful dreams, only to be banished from Deans mind with angry shouts and curses, one of which had stung most deeply.
"You don't know me, you don't care about me, you never cared, I was like a lab-rat to you." The first time Castiel heard those words, thick with sorrow and venom his vessel almost began to shed tears.
Two months had gone by before Bobby had given up, he couldn't stand Dean wallowing in misery and had to do something. At first the human had tried approaching Dean kindly, trying to gain a rapport and build the young hunters confidence back up. Nothing. Anger didn't fare much better, Bobby raged and tried every guilt tactic he could to inspire some fight in Dean, all it earned were a few silent tears and Dean curling into a ball and rocking himself back and forth. When they had tried everything they could Bobby finally checked Dean into a hospital.
The doctors there were very kind an patient with Dean, and they assured Castiel, who was loathe to leave his hunters side despite having to constantly return to heaven to keep things in order, that Dean would be well taken care of and hopefully would heal. Castiel relented but insisted on visiting his human every three months on the dot. Today was one such visit.
Dean slowly lifted his head from against the cool glass and looked at Castiel. The angel hated seeing him like this, it had been a year now since Sam's death and the ravages of Dean's sadness had destroyed him, his skin was sickly and lacked the glow of health it used to, his eyes were hollow and sunken-in, he had lost more weight than as healthy due to lack of sleep and proper nutrition, where once he had been muscular and toned, Dean Winchester was now thin and frail. But the worst was his soul. It had always been so bright, even in his darkest hour it shone with an uncommon radiance, but now it sputtered, like a candle about to extinguish. Sometimes it became so dim Castiel could no longer even see it.
Castiel sat on the opposite end of the table and tried his best to smile for Dean, not that it mattered, nowadays Dean was either unresponsive or held the same expression to such a degree one couldn't even be sure if he was wholly present at any given time.
"So Dean, how have you been?
Nothing.
"Heaven moves well these days, I am confident within another years time it will have settled to the point where I can visit you more often, would you like that?"
Nothing.
"Sam is happy you know, but also worried. I visit him in heaven, and he does not blame you for what happened. He worries for you Dean, he wishes for you to be happy too."
Dean closed both eyes at the mention of Sam's name and two tears rolled down his cheeks before opening them again, his face deadpan as before.
"Do you not wish to be happy Dean?"
Nothing.
"I miss the friendship we once shared, I do not wish to lose you."
Nothing.
"I understand, you do not wish to talk about feelings. Perhaps a walk then? The weather is quite beautiful and a book I read says sunlight is good for humans."
Dean responded by reaching for the walking-aid he used now, he had grown too weak to support his own weight, and standing up. Castiel smiled at him and took his human outside. The two of them walked around the small, enclosed park for ten minutes, Castiel talking about anything at all simply to let the hunter hear his voice, before Dean grew tired and needed to sit once more. They found a park bench and Castiel helped ease the human into a sitting position.
It pained Castiel to see Dean like this, to see his human so weak. He wished to soothe him and to tell the hunter of his feelings. But he had missed his chance, and now would never feel those soft lips against his. When he confided in his closest brothers and sisters of what had awakened in his heart, some were shocked, others offered advice of how he might still have a chance, others simply didn't know enough about emotion to respond.
He had prayed to his father for guidance, he knew that the love he felt for Dean was a gift, but he had no idea what to do with it or how to proceed. Surely just a little guidance was not so much to ask? Apparently it was, for his father had never answered his prayers.
He looked over at Dean and looked thoughtful for a moment. Perhaps this was penance, a punishment of sorts even? He had brought so much misery into Deans life with just his presence alone, he had asked so much, and never showed the human quarter or compromise. Perhaps his father wanted Castiel's love to go unrequited, as a lesson that one cannot expect a human to simply bear the punishment that Dean had and then simply bounce back. If this was the case, Castiel vowed he would do whatever it took to make the rest of Deans life comfortable and happy, and if that meant nursing him back to health and finding a way for him to live a peaceful life with woman and child, he would do it. For this human, Castiel could abandon himself and his desires.
"Would you like something to eat Dean?"
Nothing.
"I have been learning how to cook you see, it fascinates me what artistry humans can make from such base ingredients." Castiel left out the part where he had refused to his powers to aid in the task and had almost caught Bobby's kitchen aflame several times in the learning curve. Dean didn't care about Castiel or his mistakes anyway, so why bother him?
"I figured something rich and solid would not be good for your stomach, but perhaps homemade apple sauce? Would this be sufficient?"
Nothing. Then Deans stomach growled and he looked over at Castiel, his expression unchanged, and nodded once.
Castiel smiled again and pulled out a small jar of the apple sauce he had made as well as a spoon. He used a small fraction of his power to ensure it was clean and free of germs, Deans immune system was very weak these days and he caught sickness easily, and began to spoon-feed his hunter. The moment passed between them but Dean refused more after only a handful of swallows. Castiel wished to comment on this but held his tongue, Dean cared not for his concerns. Instead he turned his attention to the nurse walking across the grass towards him.
"Oh, you got him to eat, that's wonderful! Maybe you should bring him some home-cooked food more often, I'm sure that will just warm him up." Castiel liked this nurse, she was pretty and the sun made her rich brown skin glow healthfully. But most importantly she was very gentle and kind with Dean and he seemed to like her more than the other nurses.
"I shall do that then." Castiel smiled up at the nurse.
"We have to cut your visit short toady I'm afraid, it's Deans quiet time and if he doesn't get to his room by a certain time he gets rather uncooperative, I hope you understand."
"Oh, oh. Of course, I will go now."
The nurse led Dean back to his room as Castiel watched in silence. When they were out of sight he tuned his gaze towards the sky, towards the golden sun and said aloud, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Please Father, I beg of you. I will pay any price, just give him back to me."
*
Dean sat alone in his room, staring at the mirror, his hands were rested comfortably on his knees, but all he cared about was the man sitting in front of him. The man had green eyes, short brown hair and a strong jaw. His body was muscled and his skin had a healthy glow, it was Dean Winchester.
"Hey." Dean said, his voice calm and his position on the chair relaxed.
Dean simply stared.
"Stop it Dean," the mirror said to him, "killing us wont solve anything, shit we'd probably wind up in hell since suicides don't go to heaven."
Dean continued to stare at himself in the mirror, a raw ache in the center of his chest throbbed dully.
"DAMNIT DEAN!" The mirror was now yelling at him, his reflection stood up and threw the chair across the room angrily. "Don't you care about anything anymore? Does any of it matter? You saved the god-damn world and Sammy even got to go to heaven! He. Is. Not. Suffering. You. Moron! Cas said it himself."
The expression Dean gave the mirror said differently.
"What, now your doubting Cas? He's only ever done what's best for us, fuck Dean did you not realize he fucking made you food? MADE IT. HIMSELF. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
Nothing.
"Dean please," now the mirror was crying, he was begging with himself, "Don't do this man, I don't want to die. Your killing us both, don't you care? Dean?"
Dean closed his eyes and tears ran down his cheeks. In the center of his chest, a black maelstrom roared hungrily. It had started after he had ended the Apocalypse.
Death had offered Dean two choices, one was to lock Lucifer away, with Sam still his puppet, and the other was to kill Lucifer, ending all possibility of another Apocalypse ever starting. Dean had chosen the latter, but he learned in retrospect the price had been to great. In order to ensure Lucifer's demise he would have to don the horseman ring of death and shoot his brother in the heart. At the very last moment he tried to back out, but his pact with Death kicked in and, against is will, he drew th Colt and murdered his brother.
The pit in his stomach began to grow as he grieved, it swallowed up his insides, and slowly everything else as well. After two months the pit was still hungry, but Dean was hollow, every fiber of his body was in constant, throbbing pain, and his ability to feel any emotion but constant sadness was drowned out. He would have gone to sleep and never waken except that his nightmares could still make him wake, screaming in terror.
Now there was nothing that did not hurt Dean, no soft touch on the shoulder that made him recoil, no soothing word that reminded him of his incinerated mother, no kind glance that made him think of Sammy. Oh Sammy, Dean would think, What have I done to you.
Dean was a murderer, he had never thought of himself as such, even after countless monsters and demons and tortured souls. But the moment he put a bullet in his brothers heart, he was a murderer.
And murderers deserved an empty life and a slow death.
His reflection had disappeared and now Dean stared at himself again, uncaring.
*
Castiel had just returned from heaven when his phone rang. He had been there for but a day and quickly checked the device to see who needed him, it was Bobby.
"Hello." Castiel said calmly, but warmly.
"Cas, I think you need to get to the hospital it's Dean, he-" Bobby wasn't able to finish his sentence. At the mere mention of Deans name the angel had already flown to the older hunters side and materialized in front of him.
The man suppressed the urge to jump.
"What is the matter with Dean." Castiel asked, less question and more statement, his blue eyes were burning defensively, if these human doctors had let anything happen to his Dean he would smite this entire building.
"He's eating."
"What?"
"Yeah," Bobby said, sounding just as amazed as Castiel felt. "I got a call from the hospital, they say Dean is up and about, more energetic than usual. He still don't like people touching him much, but they say he's eating so I came to check on him and then thought you should be here too."
"Can we see him now?" Castiel asked, impatiently.
Bobby nodded and led the way to the small cafeteria where Dean sat, wolfing down oatmeal as though it was the last meal he would ever eat. Castiel simply stared, it was as though overnight the weight of Deans despair had been lifted from his shoulders, his skin had regained some of it's glow, and his eyes, still sunken in, were more attentive than ever. In fact he could hardly keep track of them as they darted from place to place drinking in every minor detail as hungrily as Dean attacked the soft food lain before him.
One of the nurses walked over to Dean and attempted to get his attention, eliciting no response. It wasn't until she gently touched his shoulder that he snapped back and scooted his chair away from her as though she had struck him.
"I'm sorry Dean." The nurse began, trying to placate him, "I didn't mean to scare you, just wanted to tell you your friends are back."
Dean tilted his head to one side in a manner that was all too familiar to Castiel, he had performed the same gesture countless times when he had first begun to interact with Dean. It seemed so long ago now, like another lifetime. He took a moment to peer beyond Deans skin and his breath caught, causing Bobby to look at him questioningly.
"What is it Cas?" The older hunter inquired.
"His soul," Castiel began slowly, "before it flickered and sputtered, it's light being weighed down by whatever evil tormented Dean, but now it's glow is consistent again, steady. But something is different."
"Different? How does a soul change overnight?"
"It doesn't, at least not usually. I have heard tales of souls taking on drastic changes, usually in response to trauma or perhaps a genuine desire to repent for past sins can cause a person to undergo a massive change, but this? It's like what I see now is Dean, but at the same time is not Dean." He wished to say more, but the nurse walked back over to them so he held his thoughts.
"I'm sorry, I'm really not sure what to say." She looked rather dejected, Castiel assumed it was because Dean didn't mind her as much before, but now seemed terrified of the kind woman. "He wont let anyone near him, not even the doctors. All he wants to do is eat and stare at everything."
"May I," Castiel began, choosing his words slowly, "may I attempt to speak with him? It is entirely possible he will simply recoil, but please..." He had to know for certain, had to confirm the doubts plaguing his mind.
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."
Castiel thanked the nurse while Bobby took a seat and watched from afar. The angel slowly stalked over the Dean and sat a ways away from him, echoes of his lesson on personal space ringing in his ears. He made sure to stay at least three feet away and then looked towards Dean, the human stared at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.
"Hello Dean." Castiel said, hoping his tried and true greeting would evoke a response.
Dean tilted his head to the side again, but said nothing.
A knot twisted in Castiel's stomach as he set his hand on the table before Dean. "I would like to place two fingers on your forehead, may I do this?" He said, pantomiming the action in case Dean couldn't, for whatever reason, understand his meaning.
Dean didn't reply, but when Castiel reached out to touch the human, he simply closed his eyes and did not flinch away. Castiel's fingers brushed up against the sickly, slightly clammy skin and he attempted to sink his consciousness within Dean, attempting to find rhyme or reason within the hunters thoughts and memories.
But there were none.
Castiel's eyes went wide as he recoiled from Dean and stood up suddenly, his heart was thundering in his chest and it was all he could do to prevent himself from hyperventilating. Bobby rushed to his side immediately.
"Cas?" The older hunter inquired, "What's the matter?"
"It's Dean, or should I say, it's not Dean."
"Come again?" Bobby raised an eyebrow at Castiel, clearly needing more of an explanation than that. The angel could hardly blame him.
"It's his mind, it's been wiped clean, I could find no traces of him within his consciousness."
"What in the world..." Bobby trailed off, lost in thought.
Castiel looked down towards Dean, still gazing at the two of them in wonder, and something clicked in his head. Perhaps this was his fathers answer to his plea, a poor excuse for a miracle, but Dean no longer seemed to be in pain. Perhaps this was a second chance for the frail hunter, with no memory of his previous life, perhaps Bobby could take him in, rehabilitate him. Perhaps they could guide him towards wife and child, a simple existence unaware of real danger.
A life without me, Castiel despaired inwardly at his Fathers cruel verdict. So this is to be my penance, I must care for Dean and raise him as one might raise a child, and then I must let him go his own way. If that was the case, at least Dean would be free of pain. Castiel silently wished his emotions could have been erased along with Deans memories, but knew that in order to serve sentence he needed to actually suffer for his transgression. After all, an angel in love with a human? Castiel was a fool.
He walked over to Dean and knelt before him. "Hello Dean." He began again.
The hunter titled his head in response, perhaps he did not know his name was Dean?
Castiel considered how to proceed, but before he could stop himself he had lifted a hand and placed it gingerly upon the hunters chest, over his heart. "Dean." He said softly, eyes glistening with the potential for tears even as his face remained stoic.
"Dean." The hunter repeated.
"Yes, Dean." Castiel smiled, he then took on of the hunters hands and placed it upon his own breast, letting the human feel his steady, gentle heartbeat. "Castiel." He said, gently depressing Deans fingers upon his chest.
"Cas." Dean said, Castiel stifled a bitter sob as a cough and then smiled back at Dean. Even with no memories he could still be Cas to his human, perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. "Cas." Dean said again, playing with the words on his tongue, his eyes glazed as though trying to recall something that simply wasn't there.
Then, much to Bobby's surprise and Castiel's horror, Dean lifted Castiel's hand from his chest and placed it on his shoulder, the angels fingertips brushing against raised skin, the mark of an angel seared into human flesh. Dean spent several seconds aligning the fingers just right before firmly pressing the hand into his skin and exhaling pleasurably, his eyes closing and a warm smile began to glow across the hunters face.
"Cas." Dean said again, his voice rich with a mix of what Castiel could only imagine to be serenity, ecstasy, and reverence, "Cas."
"Yes Dean," Castiel chocked, his gravelly voice bottoming out as tears began to roll down his cheeks. "Cas."