[Fic] Dean/Castiel - Things yet to pass are better left forgotten
Title: Things yet to pass are better left forgotten
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 864
Spoilers: 5x4 'The End'
Prompt: Dean/Castiel, gun training (think Torchwood style)
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Kripke is the lord and master
Authors Note: Written for cs_whitewolf. In a small contribution to raise money for the Haiti disaster relief A comment fic that got slightly too long. Oh and the Angst totally snuck up on me. Un-beta'd
Castiel's head is tilted at Dean and the gun the hunter is holding out to him, a look that could be utter confusion or utter contempt spread across his features. Dean isn't wholly sure which one it is.
“Dean, I have no need for such weapons.”
“Listen Cas, I know your Angel mojo isn't working as well as it used to before...well you know.” Dean spread his arms out in a gesture that Castiel assumed meant his death at the hands of Raphael, and subsequent resurrection, but the actions aren't exactly evocative of such an experience.
“ I figured that it would be better if you had some gun training, you know, just in case.” Dean shrugged his shoulders, his eyes downcast, the gun being passed back and forth in his hands.
“You think I am no longer equipped to keep you safe?” There's a hint of distress in Castiel's eyes, his fading grace had become troubling, but he'd tried not to think about it too much, to dwell on it would be to admit that soon he will be completely useless in this war, useless to Dean, and that pained him more than he would like to admit, more than he knew he could feel.
Sighing Dean took a step towards Cas, “Shit Cas no. I don't think that, forget I said anything.”
“Show me.” Cas' voice is low, almost timid, well as timid as Cas could ever be described as.
“Cas you don't have to.”
“No Dean you are right, I should have knowledge in such things.”
A shiver runs down Dean's spine as he hands the gun over to Castiel. The Angel holds it in his hands like it is the most curious thing in the world, his eyes scanning every inch of it almost as if he's figuring out all the inner workings, hell he probably is.
Dean hadn't even realised it when he'd first thought about getting Castiel trained with firearms, the memories buried deep down where he didn't have to think about them, didn't want to think about them. But Castiel standing there holding a gun had brought the memory to the forefront. Cas human and broken, drifting between the next high and the next orgy. Perpetually stoned and completely disillusioned with the world. His future self sending his once glorious Angel into inevitable death, a gun held comfortably in his hands, a familiarity with such a weapon that only comes from extended use.
It's another step towards the future that Dean cannot let happen, won't let happen, and it makes him feel sick.
“Dean am I holding it correctly?” Castiel looks at Dean with such openness and naivety that it breaks his heart.
He hasn't really got much of a choice though. Teach Castiel how to use a gun, equipping him with the skills that keep him safe with his diminishing grace, and start moulding him into the man that he saw in the future. Or take the gun away, never let him learn how to use one, and potentially have a future that doesn't include Cas at all.
Either way Dean thinks this entire situation is pretty fucked up, and wishes that he'd never even started thinking about this at all.
“Your grip is too tight, you need to loosen up your hand.” Dean stood next to Castiel, his hand closing over the Angel's. Decision made then, he thinks to himself grimly. “If your grip is too tight your hand could cramp up, you need to be ready to fire at any time.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah,” Dean smiled reassuringly, “now place your other hand over it, makes for a steadier aim, and recoil can be a bitch.”
Dean's hand lingers on Castiel's for a fraction too long, his mind not quite registering that in order for Castiel to do what instructed, his hand would have to be elsewhere.
Turns out, the elsewhere is on Castiel's hip, and before he even registers what he's doing he's turning Castiel's body to the side, and lining up behind him.
Dean swallows hard as another shiver goes down his spine, this one though is not built of fear.
“Now raise your arms up, lining the gun up with the target.”
Castiel is silent in his compliance, taking everything in and doing exactly what Dean asks.
“Now Squeeze the trigger gently.”
Dean's used to the sound of gunfire, and the force of recoil, but his hands tighten on Castiel's hips as the gun goes off, his eyes looking straight ahead, focusing in on the remains of the bottle left standing on the fencepost.
He forces a smile, “you're a natural.” He can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing, so he just stands there, his hands still resting on Castiel's hips. The future can wait.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 864
Spoilers: 5x4 'The End'
Prompt: Dean/Castiel, gun training (think Torchwood style)
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Kripke is the lord and master
Authors Note: Written for cs_whitewolf. In a small contribution to raise money for the Haiti disaster relief A comment fic that got slightly too long. Oh and the Angst totally snuck up on me. Un-beta'd
Castiel's head is tilted at Dean and the gun the hunter is holding out to him, a look that could be utter confusion or utter contempt spread across his features. Dean isn't wholly sure which one it is.
“Dean, I have no need for such weapons.”
“Listen Cas, I know your Angel mojo isn't working as well as it used to before...well you know.” Dean spread his arms out in a gesture that Castiel assumed meant his death at the hands of Raphael, and subsequent resurrection, but the actions aren't exactly evocative of such an experience.
“ I figured that it would be better if you had some gun training, you know, just in case.” Dean shrugged his shoulders, his eyes downcast, the gun being passed back and forth in his hands.
“You think I am no longer equipped to keep you safe?” There's a hint of distress in Castiel's eyes, his fading grace had become troubling, but he'd tried not to think about it too much, to dwell on it would be to admit that soon he will be completely useless in this war, useless to Dean, and that pained him more than he would like to admit, more than he knew he could feel.
Sighing Dean took a step towards Cas, “Shit Cas no. I don't think that, forget I said anything.”
“Show me.” Cas' voice is low, almost timid, well as timid as Cas could ever be described as.
“Cas you don't have to.”
“No Dean you are right, I should have knowledge in such things.”
A shiver runs down Dean's spine as he hands the gun over to Castiel. The Angel holds it in his hands like it is the most curious thing in the world, his eyes scanning every inch of it almost as if he's figuring out all the inner workings, hell he probably is.
Dean hadn't even realised it when he'd first thought about getting Castiel trained with firearms, the memories buried deep down where he didn't have to think about them, didn't want to think about them. But Castiel standing there holding a gun had brought the memory to the forefront. Cas human and broken, drifting between the next high and the next orgy. Perpetually stoned and completely disillusioned with the world. His future self sending his once glorious Angel into inevitable death, a gun held comfortably in his hands, a familiarity with such a weapon that only comes from extended use.
It's another step towards the future that Dean cannot let happen, won't let happen, and it makes him feel sick.
“Dean am I holding it correctly?” Castiel looks at Dean with such openness and naivety that it breaks his heart.
He hasn't really got much of a choice though. Teach Castiel how to use a gun, equipping him with the skills that keep him safe with his diminishing grace, and start moulding him into the man that he saw in the future. Or take the gun away, never let him learn how to use one, and potentially have a future that doesn't include Cas at all.
Either way Dean thinks this entire situation is pretty fucked up, and wishes that he'd never even started thinking about this at all.
“Your grip is too tight, you need to loosen up your hand.” Dean stood next to Castiel, his hand closing over the Angel's. Decision made then, he thinks to himself grimly. “If your grip is too tight your hand could cramp up, you need to be ready to fire at any time.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah,” Dean smiled reassuringly, “now place your other hand over it, makes for a steadier aim, and recoil can be a bitch.”
Dean's hand lingers on Castiel's for a fraction too long, his mind not quite registering that in order for Castiel to do what instructed, his hand would have to be elsewhere.
Turns out, the elsewhere is on Castiel's hip, and before he even registers what he's doing he's turning Castiel's body to the side, and lining up behind him.
Dean swallows hard as another shiver goes down his spine, this one though is not built of fear.
“Now raise your arms up, lining the gun up with the target.”
Castiel is silent in his compliance, taking everything in and doing exactly what Dean asks.
“Now Squeeze the trigger gently.”
Dean's used to the sound of gunfire, and the force of recoil, but his hands tighten on Castiel's hips as the gun goes off, his eyes looking straight ahead, focusing in on the remains of the bottle left standing on the fencepost.
He forces a smile, “you're a natural.” He can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing, so he just stands there, his hands still resting on Castiel's hips. The future can wait.