Things Fall Apart [Part 4b/?]
Title: Things Fall Apart [Part 3/?]
Authors: kimisgirl (wrote Cas, future!dean and Future!Cas) and doubledgedsword (wrote Dean)
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Rating/Warnings: NC17 this part. Non.Con (not this part but this story will include rape at one point) Mental and Physical abuse hinted at.
Summary: The future Dean finds himself in thanks to Zachariah is not like the past he has just left. He and Castiel are no longer together and he is shocked to find out just how bad it's gone for them. He is horrified by his future self and how broken he has become. Can he do anything
AN: This is a continuation of the "A love story" verse. It can stand alone if you don't want to read the previous story. But parts of it will make more sense if you do read it :D. This story is completely written and parts will be put up ever second day or so! Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: None of the supernatural characters or storylines belong to us :( -sad face-
Dean had been rather pleased with how the meeting went. Cas hadn't seemed nearly as empty as he had in the cabin, and his Future Self was sporting a rather shiny bruise from the punch he had given him. Dean's knuckles still stung from the impact, but every time he felt them smart, he felt an undeniable sense of smugness. He had punched his future self as hard as he could for being such a dick, and for hurting Cas. Knowing that Cas could see the evidence of it during the meeting made him feel slightly better. Seeing Cas dressed (albeit in the very same check shirt he had wrapped him in to keep him warm) and smiling weakly did Dean some good. At least Cas was somewhat avenged, and was looking a little brighter than when Dean had last seen him. Even in this state, Dean couldn't help but look at him and feel love.
What frightened him, however, was hearing Cas say, "I like past you," with a bitterness that spoke volumes, and then seeing the black look of rage that flashed on his future self's face like a bolt of lightning illuminating something ugly you never knew was lurking in the darkness. Dean didn't like seeing that expression on his own face. It made his flesh creep, and he knew that someone was going to pay for the knuckle sandwich Future Dean had received. Whether it was past him, or Cas... Dean felt apprehensive of what revenge might be taken.
Wanting to reassure himself, as well as provide Cas with a little bit of protection (no matter how flimsy it might prove) he made his way to his cabin under cover of darkness. He wanted to talk to Cas for time, and make sure that he was starting to piece himself back together, or at the very least wasn't in the same pit he had been in when Dean had left him earlier that day. Every little noise in the night freaked him out. He wasn't sure if the bestial shrieks he could hear were Crotes or something else, and for once Dean Winchester found himself jittery in darkness. He patted his coat pocket, grateful to feel the comforting weight of his gun there.
As he reached the cabin and glanced at the window, he saw weak light within, as though it was lit by all the weird scented candles that Cas seemed to favour since he went mortal. Dean grinned, starting to warm to this future Cas, even if he wasn't like the one he loved back home. His grin faded when he realised that there were two shadows moving within the cabin, and to his horror, he could hear his own voice twisted with rage snarling inside.
Feeling sickened that he hadn't got there sooner, Dean ran to the door and kicked it open out of instinct rather than necessity. What he saw made him almost throw up on the spot. Cas was sobbing silently on the bed, his face plainly speaking his pain, and his future self was... oh Jesus... he couldn't be doing that! His stomach seemed to drop out of him, and the sudden wave of anger that surged through him made him literally see red. Beating Cas was awful enough, but this... this was a million times worse.
"You sick sonofabitch!" Dean bellowed, and lunged at his future self. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him off the suffering angel, and flung him against the wall. "I ought to shoot you right now, you disgusting bastard," he snarled, meeting his own eyes and hating his own self more than he ever thought possible. He raised his gun and brought it down sharply on his future self's head, a practiced move that should knock him straight out. He watched as the monster that he didn't want to become sank to the floor, out cold. Dean kicked him in the ribs, and while he made a grunt of pain, he made no move to get back up.
Dean turned his attention back to Cas, frightened and sickened in equal measure by the blood. "Cas, baby," Dean said, trying to keep the fear from his voice so Castiel wouldn't realise how bad things looked. "Jesus, this is my fault, isn't it? Because I told him how sick he was to be beating on you. Precious, I'm so sorry." He wasn't sure what to do, so he knelt by the bed and stroked Castiel's face softly.
"Let's get you fixed up, okay?" Dean asked, still focusing on Castiel's face, stroking his hair and neck, trying desperately to soothe the vile touch that had left him this way. He hooked one arm around the angel's waist and pulled his lower half upwards and onto the bed as gently as he could. He knew he'd be hurting him even with that slight movement, and he winced in sympathy for the pain that Cas was undoubtedly feeling.
~*~
He.... this... can't... god make it stop... Cas' thoughts were jumbled and scattered, blinded by pain and hurt as he lay limp across the bed all he could bring himself to do was try and block out the pain. Try to not think at all. It wasn't working, the pain ripped through him, made him want to scream and beg and plead for him to stop.... just make it stop... stop hurting me Dean his mind pleaded but the thoughts never became words. If he let himself react even a little, if he withdrew out of his shell right now he would break, it would all be to much. The pain and hurt and sadness of what Dean was doing to him would kill him and he knew it.
Maybe that would be a good thing, maybe dying was the answer.... but this death would be worse than a physical one. He was so close already, but something about how past him had treated him this morning had broken through to him that day. Was it hope... who knew all he knew was that when he had gone to the meeting tonight he felt a little less broken than he had the day before...
But now...
He felt the silent tears falling from his eyes, the pain and burning was easing now, he was too numb from shock to feel it so much now. He could tell he was bleeding, the movement of the man behind him... he couldn't, wouldn't think of him as Dean anymore, only 'the man'... became smoother as the blood eased the friction.
He didn't move, couldn't... his only defense was to shut down completely and he had had a lot of practice at it. Never like this though... god never like this. How was he meant to be ok after this.... he knew the answer, he wouldn't be. Couldn't be.
He was so deep inside himself he didn't notice the other Dean enter, didn't notice him pull the man off him, didn't notice as the man was knocked out, that it was over, that it had stopped.
Not until he felt someone pulling him up onto the bed, running a gentle hand through his hair, talking to him softly. He finally allowed himself to come back, flinching away from the touch when he saw who was touching him, for a moment he thought it was him, the one who'd done this to him. It only took a few moments for his brain to register that this wasn't him, this was someone who cared, who wanted to help and keep him safe. He curled toward Dean and his whole body began to shake uncontrollably as he finally let out a gut wrenching sob.
"Dean" he choked out hoarsely as his body collapsed into violent sobs. He couldn't control it, now that he was feeling the pain it was too much for him to handle and he cried out as he curled up in a fetal position against what ever part of Dean was close enough to touch. He felt just a little safer when this man was close to him. He could feel the warmth and love. The men may have had the same face but they were not same. To Cas, they were completely different, he could feel it when they were close. This morning he had fled from this Dean because the love he had for Cas hurt more than anything ever had, now he wanted to cling to it, to hold him close and never let go. Anything to feel a little less dead, a little less lost...
He could feel the pain in his ass but it wasn't really anything he'd not felt before. It was the emotional side of it that was really killing him. He wanted to get stupidly stoned and drunk and work really hard to forget everything that has happened here tonight... but first...
He rose his head off the mattress and his eyes traveled to the form of the other man slumped on the ground against the wall where Dean had knocked him out. His eyes grew cold, dangerous as he took the gun Dean still had near him, he didn't even look at the Dean beside him as he slowly rose the gun and aimed it right between the asshole's eyes. He wanted to do it, wanted to kill him, shot him dead right now. End his suffering, get his revenge. It would be so easy, the man wouldn't even know what had happened. He would just be gone....
But he couldn't, he sat, gun aimed for minutes, hours, days, hell he didn't know, but he couldn't squeeze the trigger. His hand began to shake and the gun dropped slowly from his fingers onto the bed between himself and the Dean he didn't want dead.
"Just... get him the fuck out of here please Dean... I can't... I need him out..." he whispered desperately as he sunk back onto the bed and curled up again.
He wanted, needed a shower, he felt dirty and unclean. Almost in the same way he remembered feeling when that Succubus had touched him. He could remember that night, the shower he and Dean had shared afterward. How Dean had help him feel clean and holy again. How special that night had been... God, how had it all gone so wrong...?
Eons he'd lived as an angel, millennia, and now in five years on earth among humans, he was reduced to this.... how had it gone so wrong? Maybe Lucifer had it right all along, maybe humans were the enemy. Cas had fallen in love with one and look where it had gotten him...
No a small voice told him from deep inside as he opened his eyes and gazed at the Dean beside him. Looking at the hurt and concern in his beautiful eyes. He had been worth it, would always be worth it. Even if the Dean now was the one hurting him. He would always love the Dean that lay beside him... he would always be worth it he thought to himself and clenched his eyes closed as this realisation hit him deep in the chest and he had to gasp for breath....
~*~
Dean felt ill. Seeing himself doing something so cruel and heartless to Castiel made him think that maybe he should say yes to Michael, if only to avoid this future. Better for Cas to never know what he'd have to suffer through in five years than to hope he could change things himself. He shuddered at the thought that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried that maybe one day he would end up turning into the beast he had just knocked out. The angels were so certain that the future was set, and that nothing would change no matter how many details he altered. He couldn't believe that. He had to believe there was hope. He had to believe that he was a better man than his future had made him.
Castiel flinched from his touch, not realising which Dean was trying to calm him. Dean knew it was an instinctive response, rather than a planned one, but it stung nevertheless. He didn't let it show on his face, and he made shushing sounds as he tried once again to soothe the broken former angel before him. When he sobbed... oh, Christ. Dean felt his heart break clean in two. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and whispering, "It's okay, baby... it's okay..." over and over again. "He's not going to hurt you again, I promise," Dean said softly, kissing Castiel's cheekbone, his hair, his shoulder.
He looked around for a blanket, or a first aid kit, anything he could use to keep Cas warm and to try do something with the blood. The bed was filthy as it was, it couldn't have been hygienic for Cas to be on it when he was injured and bleeding. While he was distracted, Castiel sat up and grabbed his gun, and pointed it straight at his future self.
Dean heard the click of the safety being turned off, and snapped his head up to see who Cas was pointing the gun at. Dean felt strangely calm when he realised it was pointing at the bastard on the floor, and that Cas wasn't pointing it at himself. He wondered should he just let Cas take his revenge, punish him for all the awful things he had put him through. He knew he would be allowing Cas to kill him, and he didn't care. He wanted that monster gone, put down and dead so he could never again hurt another person.
Cas broke then, dropping the gun and falling back down on the bed. Dean stroked his head once more and said, "Will do. But I've gotta take care of you first. You're more important than that douchebag." He reached over to the cupboard near the bed and opened it, smelling patchouli and the musty scent of old fabric. There were several coarse woollen blankets in there. Perfect. Dean pulled them all out and dropped them on the floor by the bed. "Baby, can you stand up for a second?" he asked softly. Without waiting for a response, he carefully scooped Cas up into his arms and awkwardly managed to pull the disgusting soiled bedsheets from the mattress. He let them drop to the floor in a stinking heap, and set Cas down beside him, keeping one arm around his waist to support him. Quickly, and not caring about it being a neat job, he threw one of the blankets over the mattress. "Lay down, precious, and I'll get rid of that mook," Dean said, helping Cas back onto the bed. He placed another one of the blankets over Cas, wanting to keep him warm, and squeezed his hand lightly, just once.
"Now to take out a stinking piece of trash," Dean growled, all the concern leaving his eyes as he turned his gaze on his slumped future douchebag self. His jeans were still around his ankles, and Dean found it weird looking at his own half naked self from this angle. He grunted as he lifted him, and his body flopped against him like a rag doll. Dean awkwardly tried to pull up the man's pants, and once he had mostly succeeded he slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He moved quickly, carrying the asshole out, away from Cas, and dumping him on the steps of what he believed to be an empty cabin. He kicked him again for good measure, and wondered if he should at least put him inside the cabin so coyotes wouldn't eat him. He thought long and hard about it, and then decided that the only thing that separated him from this monster was the fact that he gave a crap about saving people. He wrenched open the cabin door and kicked the man's prone body through it, slamming the door closed and leaving him passed out cold on the floor of the place.
He walked quickly back to Castiel's cabin and closed the door softly behind him, the beaded curtain clicking as he walked through it. "Castiel?" he said. "Is there a shower we can get you into? We need to clean off that blood." He crouched down next to the bed again and took the angel's hands in his, kissing them. His fingers were cold, the nails encrusted with grime, but Dean just wanted to let him know that he was still loved. Even though five years had damaged and changed him completely, Dean still loved him. He was still his angel, even without his grace, even without his wings. Castiel was his, no matter what form he was in.
~*~
Cas pulled in closer to this Dean and let his warmth was through him. He knew it was wrong, knew in the long run it would hurt him. But he decided that while he could have this Dean close to him, he would do. He had experienced the worst pain ever imaginable and he had survived thanks to this man. Now he was going to allow himself to have this... even if it is just for a moment before life gets back in the way.
He whimpered, actually whimpered when Dean stood up off the bed, but he knew he wasn't leaving. Cas had asked him to get him out of here. So he just glued his eyes to Dean's form and lay on the bed quietly watching him. Like a puppy watching it's mother. Hoping she's not just going to up and disappear and leave them alone. He begins to protest when Dean cames back with blankets and pulls him up off the bed instead of getting the other man out of his cabin. He doesn't have the strength left anymore to fight and the blood loss is making him woozy. So he simply wraps both arms around Dean and clings to him as tight as he can, which at present isn't very tight at all.
As Dean stripped the bed and lay out new blankets Cas couldn't help but be touched by how caring and kind this Dean still was. It was always the little things that had made Cas feel loved. The squeeze of a hand, that special smile he only gave to Cas, giving up a night out at the bar just to spend some alone time with Cas. They were the things he remembered that had made him feel special. And seeing this Dean changing the sheets so he wouldn't be lying on dirt was one of those things and it made tears well up in his eyes. Though these were different from the ones before. Horrifically sad, yes, but not painful like the others. These were tears of regret and loss.
When he felt Dean lay him back down he clung to the man for a moment not wanting to relinquish the contact of him. He finally let go though when he's eyes feel on the other Dean and a flash of pain crossed his face. He curled up under the blankets shivering uncontrollably and was once again in the fetal position. Something about it made him feel a little safer. He listened rather than watched Dean taking the other man out of the cabin. And as soon as he was gone it was like a weight had been lifted and Cas felt himself breath a little easier. It was cold and lonely and he shook and trembled. He was hurt and scared. He didn't know if Dean, the one he still considered to be his Dean, was going to come back. And a moment of panic rushed through him. What if he had got Cas in bed and removed the other Dean and thought his job was done for the night...
Cas was crying again when Dean came back and Cas could feel him before he saw him. He could aways feel this Dean. It was the love he thought, it was something strong and tangent almost.
He opened his eyes when he felt Dean take his hands, and he almost sobbed at the thought of a shower. He wanted one so bad it hurt. And he nodded quietly eyes never leaving Deans.
"Yes, over there" he pointed behind Dean's head to a small door that lead to a small shower. There was no hot water in this shower but it worked well enough and Cas couldn't handle the thought of going to the main communal showers. Not at the thought someone might see him, or worse that he might be there.
He hoped Dean would realise this and help him to shower here, even if the icy water might do more harm than good. Though Cas at this point thought that even an icy lake would be preferable to staying like he was now. He had to was, had to be clean for this Dean, for himself.
"Will you... will you help me?" he asked weakly as he stared up into Dean's eyes, love and child like exhaustion playing in his wide eyes. Along with more than a little pain and fear.
He gripped at Dean's hands and curled his fingers with his, cling to them far to hard and he had to be hurting him but he couldn't stop himself he needed to feel the contact to know Dean was there, that he was safe, protected. Even if it was just for a little while. Cas had felt for a long time he wouldn't survive this battle with Lucifer, so all he needed was to cling to this Dean for a little while longer, then he could let go and play his final part in this whole fucked up mess. Maybe with this Dean hear his last days on earth wouldn't be the pointless, painful days he had thought they would... well they would still be painful, but maybe they would not be pointless... maybe Cas could help Dean as he is helping him.
TBC
Comments are love - Sorry for the wait for this chapter folks, been busy :D
Authors: kimisgirl (wrote Cas, future!dean and Future!Cas) and doubledgedsword (wrote Dean)
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Rating/Warnings: NC17 this part. Non.Con (not this part but this story will include rape at one point) Mental and Physical abuse hinted at.
Summary: The future Dean finds himself in thanks to Zachariah is not like the past he has just left. He and Castiel are no longer together and he is shocked to find out just how bad it's gone for them. He is horrified by his future self and how broken he has become. Can he do anything
AN: This is a continuation of the "A love story" verse. It can stand alone if you don't want to read the previous story. But parts of it will make more sense if you do read it :D. This story is completely written and parts will be put up ever second day or so! Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: None of the supernatural characters or storylines belong to us :( -sad face-
Dean had been rather pleased with how the meeting went. Cas hadn't seemed nearly as empty as he had in the cabin, and his Future Self was sporting a rather shiny bruise from the punch he had given him. Dean's knuckles still stung from the impact, but every time he felt them smart, he felt an undeniable sense of smugness. He had punched his future self as hard as he could for being such a dick, and for hurting Cas. Knowing that Cas could see the evidence of it during the meeting made him feel slightly better. Seeing Cas dressed (albeit in the very same check shirt he had wrapped him in to keep him warm) and smiling weakly did Dean some good. At least Cas was somewhat avenged, and was looking a little brighter than when Dean had last seen him. Even in this state, Dean couldn't help but look at him and feel love.
What frightened him, however, was hearing Cas say, "I like past you," with a bitterness that spoke volumes, and then seeing the black look of rage that flashed on his future self's face like a bolt of lightning illuminating something ugly you never knew was lurking in the darkness. Dean didn't like seeing that expression on his own face. It made his flesh creep, and he knew that someone was going to pay for the knuckle sandwich Future Dean had received. Whether it was past him, or Cas... Dean felt apprehensive of what revenge might be taken.
Wanting to reassure himself, as well as provide Cas with a little bit of protection (no matter how flimsy it might prove) he made his way to his cabin under cover of darkness. He wanted to talk to Cas for time, and make sure that he was starting to piece himself back together, or at the very least wasn't in the same pit he had been in when Dean had left him earlier that day. Every little noise in the night freaked him out. He wasn't sure if the bestial shrieks he could hear were Crotes or something else, and for once Dean Winchester found himself jittery in darkness. He patted his coat pocket, grateful to feel the comforting weight of his gun there.
As he reached the cabin and glanced at the window, he saw weak light within, as though it was lit by all the weird scented candles that Cas seemed to favour since he went mortal. Dean grinned, starting to warm to this future Cas, even if he wasn't like the one he loved back home. His grin faded when he realised that there were two shadows moving within the cabin, and to his horror, he could hear his own voice twisted with rage snarling inside.
Feeling sickened that he hadn't got there sooner, Dean ran to the door and kicked it open out of instinct rather than necessity. What he saw made him almost throw up on the spot. Cas was sobbing silently on the bed, his face plainly speaking his pain, and his future self was... oh Jesus... he couldn't be doing that! His stomach seemed to drop out of him, and the sudden wave of anger that surged through him made him literally see red. Beating Cas was awful enough, but this... this was a million times worse.
"You sick sonofabitch!" Dean bellowed, and lunged at his future self. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him off the suffering angel, and flung him against the wall. "I ought to shoot you right now, you disgusting bastard," he snarled, meeting his own eyes and hating his own self more than he ever thought possible. He raised his gun and brought it down sharply on his future self's head, a practiced move that should knock him straight out. He watched as the monster that he didn't want to become sank to the floor, out cold. Dean kicked him in the ribs, and while he made a grunt of pain, he made no move to get back up.
Dean turned his attention back to Cas, frightened and sickened in equal measure by the blood. "Cas, baby," Dean said, trying to keep the fear from his voice so Castiel wouldn't realise how bad things looked. "Jesus, this is my fault, isn't it? Because I told him how sick he was to be beating on you. Precious, I'm so sorry." He wasn't sure what to do, so he knelt by the bed and stroked Castiel's face softly.
"Let's get you fixed up, okay?" Dean asked, still focusing on Castiel's face, stroking his hair and neck, trying desperately to soothe the vile touch that had left him this way. He hooked one arm around the angel's waist and pulled his lower half upwards and onto the bed as gently as he could. He knew he'd be hurting him even with that slight movement, and he winced in sympathy for the pain that Cas was undoubtedly feeling.
~*~
He.... this... can't... god make it stop... Cas' thoughts were jumbled and scattered, blinded by pain and hurt as he lay limp across the bed all he could bring himself to do was try and block out the pain. Try to not think at all. It wasn't working, the pain ripped through him, made him want to scream and beg and plead for him to stop.... just make it stop... stop hurting me Dean his mind pleaded but the thoughts never became words. If he let himself react even a little, if he withdrew out of his shell right now he would break, it would all be to much. The pain and hurt and sadness of what Dean was doing to him would kill him and he knew it.
Maybe that would be a good thing, maybe dying was the answer.... but this death would be worse than a physical one. He was so close already, but something about how past him had treated him this morning had broken through to him that day. Was it hope... who knew all he knew was that when he had gone to the meeting tonight he felt a little less broken than he had the day before...
But now...
He felt the silent tears falling from his eyes, the pain and burning was easing now, he was too numb from shock to feel it so much now. He could tell he was bleeding, the movement of the man behind him... he couldn't, wouldn't think of him as Dean anymore, only 'the man'... became smoother as the blood eased the friction.
He didn't move, couldn't... his only defense was to shut down completely and he had had a lot of practice at it. Never like this though... god never like this. How was he meant to be ok after this.... he knew the answer, he wouldn't be. Couldn't be.
He was so deep inside himself he didn't notice the other Dean enter, didn't notice him pull the man off him, didn't notice as the man was knocked out, that it was over, that it had stopped.
Not until he felt someone pulling him up onto the bed, running a gentle hand through his hair, talking to him softly. He finally allowed himself to come back, flinching away from the touch when he saw who was touching him, for a moment he thought it was him, the one who'd done this to him. It only took a few moments for his brain to register that this wasn't him, this was someone who cared, who wanted to help and keep him safe. He curled toward Dean and his whole body began to shake uncontrollably as he finally let out a gut wrenching sob.
"Dean" he choked out hoarsely as his body collapsed into violent sobs. He couldn't control it, now that he was feeling the pain it was too much for him to handle and he cried out as he curled up in a fetal position against what ever part of Dean was close enough to touch. He felt just a little safer when this man was close to him. He could feel the warmth and love. The men may have had the same face but they were not same. To Cas, they were completely different, he could feel it when they were close. This morning he had fled from this Dean because the love he had for Cas hurt more than anything ever had, now he wanted to cling to it, to hold him close and never let go. Anything to feel a little less dead, a little less lost...
He could feel the pain in his ass but it wasn't really anything he'd not felt before. It was the emotional side of it that was really killing him. He wanted to get stupidly stoned and drunk and work really hard to forget everything that has happened here tonight... but first...
He rose his head off the mattress and his eyes traveled to the form of the other man slumped on the ground against the wall where Dean had knocked him out. His eyes grew cold, dangerous as he took the gun Dean still had near him, he didn't even look at the Dean beside him as he slowly rose the gun and aimed it right between the asshole's eyes. He wanted to do it, wanted to kill him, shot him dead right now. End his suffering, get his revenge. It would be so easy, the man wouldn't even know what had happened. He would just be gone....
But he couldn't, he sat, gun aimed for minutes, hours, days, hell he didn't know, but he couldn't squeeze the trigger. His hand began to shake and the gun dropped slowly from his fingers onto the bed between himself and the Dean he didn't want dead.
"Just... get him the fuck out of here please Dean... I can't... I need him out..." he whispered desperately as he sunk back onto the bed and curled up again.
He wanted, needed a shower, he felt dirty and unclean. Almost in the same way he remembered feeling when that Succubus had touched him. He could remember that night, the shower he and Dean had shared afterward. How Dean had help him feel clean and holy again. How special that night had been... God, how had it all gone so wrong...?
Eons he'd lived as an angel, millennia, and now in five years on earth among humans, he was reduced to this.... how had it gone so wrong? Maybe Lucifer had it right all along, maybe humans were the enemy. Cas had fallen in love with one and look where it had gotten him...
No a small voice told him from deep inside as he opened his eyes and gazed at the Dean beside him. Looking at the hurt and concern in his beautiful eyes. He had been worth it, would always be worth it. Even if the Dean now was the one hurting him. He would always love the Dean that lay beside him... he would always be worth it he thought to himself and clenched his eyes closed as this realisation hit him deep in the chest and he had to gasp for breath....
~*~
Dean felt ill. Seeing himself doing something so cruel and heartless to Castiel made him think that maybe he should say yes to Michael, if only to avoid this future. Better for Cas to never know what he'd have to suffer through in five years than to hope he could change things himself. He shuddered at the thought that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried that maybe one day he would end up turning into the beast he had just knocked out. The angels were so certain that the future was set, and that nothing would change no matter how many details he altered. He couldn't believe that. He had to believe there was hope. He had to believe that he was a better man than his future had made him.
Castiel flinched from his touch, not realising which Dean was trying to calm him. Dean knew it was an instinctive response, rather than a planned one, but it stung nevertheless. He didn't let it show on his face, and he made shushing sounds as he tried once again to soothe the broken former angel before him. When he sobbed... oh, Christ. Dean felt his heart break clean in two. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and whispering, "It's okay, baby... it's okay..." over and over again. "He's not going to hurt you again, I promise," Dean said softly, kissing Castiel's cheekbone, his hair, his shoulder.
He looked around for a blanket, or a first aid kit, anything he could use to keep Cas warm and to try do something with the blood. The bed was filthy as it was, it couldn't have been hygienic for Cas to be on it when he was injured and bleeding. While he was distracted, Castiel sat up and grabbed his gun, and pointed it straight at his future self.
Dean heard the click of the safety being turned off, and snapped his head up to see who Cas was pointing the gun at. Dean felt strangely calm when he realised it was pointing at the bastard on the floor, and that Cas wasn't pointing it at himself. He wondered should he just let Cas take his revenge, punish him for all the awful things he had put him through. He knew he would be allowing Cas to kill him, and he didn't care. He wanted that monster gone, put down and dead so he could never again hurt another person.
Cas broke then, dropping the gun and falling back down on the bed. Dean stroked his head once more and said, "Will do. But I've gotta take care of you first. You're more important than that douchebag." He reached over to the cupboard near the bed and opened it, smelling patchouli and the musty scent of old fabric. There were several coarse woollen blankets in there. Perfect. Dean pulled them all out and dropped them on the floor by the bed. "Baby, can you stand up for a second?" he asked softly. Without waiting for a response, he carefully scooped Cas up into his arms and awkwardly managed to pull the disgusting soiled bedsheets from the mattress. He let them drop to the floor in a stinking heap, and set Cas down beside him, keeping one arm around his waist to support him. Quickly, and not caring about it being a neat job, he threw one of the blankets over the mattress. "Lay down, precious, and I'll get rid of that mook," Dean said, helping Cas back onto the bed. He placed another one of the blankets over Cas, wanting to keep him warm, and squeezed his hand lightly, just once.
"Now to take out a stinking piece of trash," Dean growled, all the concern leaving his eyes as he turned his gaze on his slumped future douchebag self. His jeans were still around his ankles, and Dean found it weird looking at his own half naked self from this angle. He grunted as he lifted him, and his body flopped against him like a rag doll. Dean awkwardly tried to pull up the man's pants, and once he had mostly succeeded he slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He moved quickly, carrying the asshole out, away from Cas, and dumping him on the steps of what he believed to be an empty cabin. He kicked him again for good measure, and wondered if he should at least put him inside the cabin so coyotes wouldn't eat him. He thought long and hard about it, and then decided that the only thing that separated him from this monster was the fact that he gave a crap about saving people. He wrenched open the cabin door and kicked the man's prone body through it, slamming the door closed and leaving him passed out cold on the floor of the place.
He walked quickly back to Castiel's cabin and closed the door softly behind him, the beaded curtain clicking as he walked through it. "Castiel?" he said. "Is there a shower we can get you into? We need to clean off that blood." He crouched down next to the bed again and took the angel's hands in his, kissing them. His fingers were cold, the nails encrusted with grime, but Dean just wanted to let him know that he was still loved. Even though five years had damaged and changed him completely, Dean still loved him. He was still his angel, even without his grace, even without his wings. Castiel was his, no matter what form he was in.
~*~
Cas pulled in closer to this Dean and let his warmth was through him. He knew it was wrong, knew in the long run it would hurt him. But he decided that while he could have this Dean close to him, he would do. He had experienced the worst pain ever imaginable and he had survived thanks to this man. Now he was going to allow himself to have this... even if it is just for a moment before life gets back in the way.
He whimpered, actually whimpered when Dean stood up off the bed, but he knew he wasn't leaving. Cas had asked him to get him out of here. So he just glued his eyes to Dean's form and lay on the bed quietly watching him. Like a puppy watching it's mother. Hoping she's not just going to up and disappear and leave them alone. He begins to protest when Dean cames back with blankets and pulls him up off the bed instead of getting the other man out of his cabin. He doesn't have the strength left anymore to fight and the blood loss is making him woozy. So he simply wraps both arms around Dean and clings to him as tight as he can, which at present isn't very tight at all.
As Dean stripped the bed and lay out new blankets Cas couldn't help but be touched by how caring and kind this Dean still was. It was always the little things that had made Cas feel loved. The squeeze of a hand, that special smile he only gave to Cas, giving up a night out at the bar just to spend some alone time with Cas. They were the things he remembered that had made him feel special. And seeing this Dean changing the sheets so he wouldn't be lying on dirt was one of those things and it made tears well up in his eyes. Though these were different from the ones before. Horrifically sad, yes, but not painful like the others. These were tears of regret and loss.
When he felt Dean lay him back down he clung to the man for a moment not wanting to relinquish the contact of him. He finally let go though when he's eyes feel on the other Dean and a flash of pain crossed his face. He curled up under the blankets shivering uncontrollably and was once again in the fetal position. Something about it made him feel a little safer. He listened rather than watched Dean taking the other man out of the cabin. And as soon as he was gone it was like a weight had been lifted and Cas felt himself breath a little easier. It was cold and lonely and he shook and trembled. He was hurt and scared. He didn't know if Dean, the one he still considered to be his Dean, was going to come back. And a moment of panic rushed through him. What if he had got Cas in bed and removed the other Dean and thought his job was done for the night...
Cas was crying again when Dean came back and Cas could feel him before he saw him. He could aways feel this Dean. It was the love he thought, it was something strong and tangent almost.
He opened his eyes when he felt Dean take his hands, and he almost sobbed at the thought of a shower. He wanted one so bad it hurt. And he nodded quietly eyes never leaving Deans.
"Yes, over there" he pointed behind Dean's head to a small door that lead to a small shower. There was no hot water in this shower but it worked well enough and Cas couldn't handle the thought of going to the main communal showers. Not at the thought someone might see him, or worse that he might be there.
He hoped Dean would realise this and help him to shower here, even if the icy water might do more harm than good. Though Cas at this point thought that even an icy lake would be preferable to staying like he was now. He had to was, had to be clean for this Dean, for himself.
"Will you... will you help me?" he asked weakly as he stared up into Dean's eyes, love and child like exhaustion playing in his wide eyes. Along with more than a little pain and fear.
He gripped at Dean's hands and curled his fingers with his, cling to them far to hard and he had to be hurting him but he couldn't stop himself he needed to feel the contact to know Dean was there, that he was safe, protected. Even if it was just for a little while. Cas had felt for a long time he wouldn't survive this battle with Lucifer, so all he needed was to cling to this Dean for a little while longer, then he could let go and play his final part in this whole fucked up mess. Maybe with this Dean hear his last days on earth wouldn't be the pointless, painful days he had thought they would... well they would still be painful, but maybe they would not be pointless... maybe Cas could help Dean as he is helping him.
TBC
Comments are love - Sorry for the wait for this chapter folks, been busy :D