FIC: Afraid of Heights
My second SPN fic attempt.
Title: Afraid of Heights
Pair: Dean/Castiel
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1900
Summary: Post 5.18. Dean is uncomfortable being on a pedestal. Cas returns for talky-time. And hugs tiem.
Dean propped his feet up on a chair and leaned back as he looked between a dog-eared leatherbound Bible and several newspapers scattered across the table. His father had always been exceptionally good at spotting the strategic pattern behind demonic activity. Dean had always been more of the feel-it-in-your-gut type. Sammy did the studying and research. He was smart. He was good at it.
(Dean wasn’t supposed to call him Sammy anymore, though. Had to remember that. The kid was all grown up now.)
Dean lifted the corner of the burger Sam had brought back for him, then set it back down with disinterest and got up to go get another beer. When he turned toward the refrigerator, he stopped abruptly, face to face with a sharp nose and two smoldering, dark eyes.
He swallowed. Castiel stared.
“Wanna dance?” Dean asked flippantly. He felt a twinge of discomfort in his stomach. Castiel tilted his head to the side.
Then it got weird.
Castiel flung his arms around Dean and hugged him with a preternatural strength. Dean looked up at the ceiling. He’d been expecting another beating. He wasn’t sure if this was worse.
“Good to see y-”
“You didn’t,” Castiel said gruffly. “You didn’t say yes. I was afraid. You seemed so determined.”
“Well, I had a change of heart. Changed my mind. I’m known for it, actually.” Dean breathed in slowly, then out. Awkward. His heart was starting to pound from the close proximity. “So, while you were gone, did you become a Cupid, or...?”
Castiel let go. “No, I did not have a change of station. I prefer to wear clothing. Dean. Michael, whatever he told you... if you said yes to him, you would be lost to us forever.”
“I know.” Dean shrugged. “Sam and I have had this talk.”
“I should not have been so hard on you. It wasn’t... just you.” Castiel shook his head, then walked toward the refrigerator. “My father let me down. My faith in him, all the bowing and scraping, has all been for naught. Hearing what you intended to do so soon after that...” He opened the door and pulled out two beers.
“Cas, I think I get you better than you get yourself.” Dean accepted the beer Castiel handed him. “It’s done. It’s forgiven.”
“No.”
Dean blew air out of his lips, making a soft buzzing sound. Then he twisted the cap off his beer and took a drink.
“You’ve never believed that you deserved to be saved. You still don’t believe you deserve to be here, or that you’re worth enough on your own to warrant protecting your body from destruction.” Castiel walked toward him again. “Sam’s anger makes him vulnerable, and the way you feel about yourself, that’s what they are able to use against you. You believe others are more valuable than you are. That their lives mean more than yours.”
“So, not a Cupid, hm? A shrink now?” Dean cocked a brow and turned away.
Castiel appeared in front of him again. “I’m serious.”
“I dunno what to tell you. I’ve been daddy’s little blunt object my whole life. Now I’m a potential angel condom. How am I supposed to feel?”
“You are a good man. A righteous man,” Castiel said firmly.
“Y’know, Cas, this pedestal is gettin’ a little high.” Dean moved to motel bed and sat on it, looking away as he took another sip.
“You are also a deeply flawed man, but no more than any other on this planet,” Castiel continued. He sat next to Dean and wrapped his hands around his bottle. “Your point is taken. I have looked to you for guidance, perhaps a bit too much recently. I find myself... lost.”
“Well. Know the feeling.” Dean lifted his head and looked at Castiel, who was now chugging his beer like a pro. He had a sudden vision of Castiel, generally high, lolling his back and telling Dean “how he rolls.”
Castiel pulled the beer from his lips and looked at the empty bottle as though disappointed in it for not providing the numbness he longed for.
“Cas, you said you didn’t want to watch me fail. There’s a good chance you’ll have to watch me do that anyway. I hate to say it, but... we haven’t figured out our battle strategy yet. We still have two Horsemen to worry about, people and... things hunting all three of us, whatever power plays Mikey and Lucy have up their sleeves to try to get us to commit yesicide...”
“The odds are stacked against us, yes. This has always been true.”
“I don’t want you falling apart if I can’t conjure up some freakin’ miracle. The last time we saw each other, I get it, you were pissed at me-”
“I was afraid,” Castiel corrected.
“Yeah, you were. But you lost it. And you’ve been tryin’ to numb yourself before that, and I don’t want you to do that.” Dean shook his head. “I know it’s what I do, but I think you can probably see that doing that doesn’t lead to good things for you. In your head, I mean. I want you to do better than me. I can’t teach you how to be the perfect human, but if anything, you need to start trying to balance a little.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Castiel grumbled.
“Well, neither do I. Obviously.” Dean licked his lips slowly. “I need to know that if I don’t live up to being this hero you see me as, you won’t break down completely. You need to look a little to Sam and Bobby, too, and whoever we pick up in our band of we screwed few.”
“It wasn’t just you failing, Dean. It was you failing because you’d given up.”
Castiel turned his head and looked Dean in the eyes. That was always an intensely uncomfortable thing, because Castiel was always looking at him. Looking at him. Staring, gazing, as though he were waiting for something from Dean. It was an unremitting need, or maybe just a fervent adoration.
“I’ll try not to... fall apart. If you promise not to kill yourself.”
Dean broke the gaze and chuckled bitterly.
“I do not find that funny.”
“I don’t guess it is, really.” Dean sighed. “I don’t mean to get that way. I just get so tired.”
“Then lean on me. On Sam,” Castiel suggested. “The way we all lean on you.”
Dean shrugged.
Castiel scowled at him. “We do. We all do. We all take our strength from you. I don’t think I can articulate what you’ve done for me. You raised Sam. You apparently kept Bobby from suicide.”
“Yeah. Too bad I can’t give myself an intervention.” Dean rubbed his cheek with one hand.
“People need you. Not because you were chosen by destiny or because you are a blunt object to be used for our purposes, but because of the things you do, and because of who you are. You have so much strength, to keep going as you have for so long with no faith. I don’t want to take so much that you no longer have any left for yourself.”
“You can have some. I’ll try to spare it,” Dean said, trying to lift his voice for a joke. It didn’t fly, and clearly, Castiel didn’t get it.
Castiel’s hand moved over to Dean’s, took it, and squeezed it. “Maybe if I give you some now, you’ll have some to give to me, when I need it again.”
“Careful, Cas. You’ll get in on this codependent thing Sam and I got goin’ on.”
Castiel seemed to consider that for a moment, pursing his lips slightly and creasing his brow. “I don’t really understand what codependent means.”
“Hm. And I don’t understand jokes about breeding in goats’ mouths.”
“Heh heh.” Castiel covered his mouth in amusement.
Dean looked down and noticed that they were still holding hands. “Thanks for coming back.”
“I shouldn’t be angry with you for the choices I’ve made,” Castiel replied. “And even now, even having seen you in Hell or struggling in the depths of your depression, I would follow you to the ends of the Earth.”
“That is a little... um...”
“Deal with it.”
“Okay.” Dean held his other hand up defensively. “Just don’t beat me up again.”
“You need to see yourself the way I see you.”
“Can’t promise.”
“Hm.”
Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to read Castiel’s expression. He was becoming more human, going native, sort of, the longer he was down here. There was some pain in that, and Dean didn’t want to undermine what Cas was going through. His eyes moved over Castiel’s form, and he realized that Cas hadn’t replaced his tie yet. He found himself staring at Castiel’s exposed neck.
“But I can’t change how I see you,” Castiel continued. “I’ve seen too much of you.”
“Guess you’ve seen more than most. Just know I’m trying right now. It’s not easy to keep getting up. I am trying.”
“I can see that.”
Castiel leaned over, and Dean froze. He felt Castiel’s dry lips pressing against the corner of his mouth. Castiel squeezed his hand again.
“You... didn’t learn that from the Cupids.”
“No, I did not.”
Dean might have been imagining it, but he thought Cas sounded pretty damn pleased with himself.
The door opened, and Sam stepped through. His eyes swept over the room, noticing Dean’s uneaten dinner, the Apocalypse guide (Bible) and papers on the table, and Dean and Castiel on the bed. Holding hands.
He blinked twice, then frowned, looked away, then looked back at them.
Dean and Castiel moved their hands away from one another.
“So... you guys kiss and make up?” Sam asked, rolling his shoulders back.
“Yes, we did.” Castiel nodded and stood.
Sam looked between the two men once again. “Good. Cause we could use you.”
“Sam told me you would be here.” Castiel walked over to the table, tore the burger in half, then handed one half to Dean. “You should eat.”
Dean scowled at Cas and screwed up his lips. Castiel just took a bite of his half of the burger and turned to the table.
“What do we have?” Castiel asked.
Dean looked at the burger in his hand, sniffed it, and took a modest bite before walking over to the table. Castiel raised his hand and pressed it against Dean’s back, on the spot just below his neck and shoulder. Somehow, the weight of it made him feel more grounded.
“We’re looking for the Horsemen’s next move,” Dean explained. “I know a little from what Zach showed me.”
“Yeah,” Sam put in. “So we’re trying to extrapolate from there.”
Castiel nodded. He looked at Dean pointedly to get him to take another bite, then took a chair himself, and the three sat down around the table to make plans to thwart the end of the world.
Title: Afraid of Heights
Pair: Dean/Castiel
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1900
Summary: Post 5.18. Dean is uncomfortable being on a pedestal. Cas returns for talky-time. And hugs tiem.
Dean propped his feet up on a chair and leaned back as he looked between a dog-eared leatherbound Bible and several newspapers scattered across the table. His father had always been exceptionally good at spotting the strategic pattern behind demonic activity. Dean had always been more of the feel-it-in-your-gut type. Sammy did the studying and research. He was smart. He was good at it.
(Dean wasn’t supposed to call him Sammy anymore, though. Had to remember that. The kid was all grown up now.)
Dean lifted the corner of the burger Sam had brought back for him, then set it back down with disinterest and got up to go get another beer. When he turned toward the refrigerator, he stopped abruptly, face to face with a sharp nose and two smoldering, dark eyes.
He swallowed. Castiel stared.
“Wanna dance?” Dean asked flippantly. He felt a twinge of discomfort in his stomach. Castiel tilted his head to the side.
Then it got weird.
Castiel flung his arms around Dean and hugged him with a preternatural strength. Dean looked up at the ceiling. He’d been expecting another beating. He wasn’t sure if this was worse.
“Good to see y-”
“You didn’t,” Castiel said gruffly. “You didn’t say yes. I was afraid. You seemed so determined.”
“Well, I had a change of heart. Changed my mind. I’m known for it, actually.” Dean breathed in slowly, then out. Awkward. His heart was starting to pound from the close proximity. “So, while you were gone, did you become a Cupid, or...?”
Castiel let go. “No, I did not have a change of station. I prefer to wear clothing. Dean. Michael, whatever he told you... if you said yes to him, you would be lost to us forever.”
“I know.” Dean shrugged. “Sam and I have had this talk.”
“I should not have been so hard on you. It wasn’t... just you.” Castiel shook his head, then walked toward the refrigerator. “My father let me down. My faith in him, all the bowing and scraping, has all been for naught. Hearing what you intended to do so soon after that...” He opened the door and pulled out two beers.
“Cas, I think I get you better than you get yourself.” Dean accepted the beer Castiel handed him. “It’s done. It’s forgiven.”
“No.”
Dean blew air out of his lips, making a soft buzzing sound. Then he twisted the cap off his beer and took a drink.
“You’ve never believed that you deserved to be saved. You still don’t believe you deserve to be here, or that you’re worth enough on your own to warrant protecting your body from destruction.” Castiel walked toward him again. “Sam’s anger makes him vulnerable, and the way you feel about yourself, that’s what they are able to use against you. You believe others are more valuable than you are. That their lives mean more than yours.”
“So, not a Cupid, hm? A shrink now?” Dean cocked a brow and turned away.
Castiel appeared in front of him again. “I’m serious.”
“I dunno what to tell you. I’ve been daddy’s little blunt object my whole life. Now I’m a potential angel condom. How am I supposed to feel?”
“You are a good man. A righteous man,” Castiel said firmly.
“Y’know, Cas, this pedestal is gettin’ a little high.” Dean moved to motel bed and sat on it, looking away as he took another sip.
“You are also a deeply flawed man, but no more than any other on this planet,” Castiel continued. He sat next to Dean and wrapped his hands around his bottle. “Your point is taken. I have looked to you for guidance, perhaps a bit too much recently. I find myself... lost.”
“Well. Know the feeling.” Dean lifted his head and looked at Castiel, who was now chugging his beer like a pro. He had a sudden vision of Castiel, generally high, lolling his back and telling Dean “how he rolls.”
Castiel pulled the beer from his lips and looked at the empty bottle as though disappointed in it for not providing the numbness he longed for.
“Cas, you said you didn’t want to watch me fail. There’s a good chance you’ll have to watch me do that anyway. I hate to say it, but... we haven’t figured out our battle strategy yet. We still have two Horsemen to worry about, people and... things hunting all three of us, whatever power plays Mikey and Lucy have up their sleeves to try to get us to commit yesicide...”
“The odds are stacked against us, yes. This has always been true.”
“I don’t want you falling apart if I can’t conjure up some freakin’ miracle. The last time we saw each other, I get it, you were pissed at me-”
“I was afraid,” Castiel corrected.
“Yeah, you were. But you lost it. And you’ve been tryin’ to numb yourself before that, and I don’t want you to do that.” Dean shook his head. “I know it’s what I do, but I think you can probably see that doing that doesn’t lead to good things for you. In your head, I mean. I want you to do better than me. I can’t teach you how to be the perfect human, but if anything, you need to start trying to balance a little.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Castiel grumbled.
“Well, neither do I. Obviously.” Dean licked his lips slowly. “I need to know that if I don’t live up to being this hero you see me as, you won’t break down completely. You need to look a little to Sam and Bobby, too, and whoever we pick up in our band of we screwed few.”
“It wasn’t just you failing, Dean. It was you failing because you’d given up.”
Castiel turned his head and looked Dean in the eyes. That was always an intensely uncomfortable thing, because Castiel was always looking at him. Looking at him. Staring, gazing, as though he were waiting for something from Dean. It was an unremitting need, or maybe just a fervent adoration.
“I’ll try not to... fall apart. If you promise not to kill yourself.”
Dean broke the gaze and chuckled bitterly.
“I do not find that funny.”
“I don’t guess it is, really.” Dean sighed. “I don’t mean to get that way. I just get so tired.”
“Then lean on me. On Sam,” Castiel suggested. “The way we all lean on you.”
Dean shrugged.
Castiel scowled at him. “We do. We all do. We all take our strength from you. I don’t think I can articulate what you’ve done for me. You raised Sam. You apparently kept Bobby from suicide.”
“Yeah. Too bad I can’t give myself an intervention.” Dean rubbed his cheek with one hand.
“People need you. Not because you were chosen by destiny or because you are a blunt object to be used for our purposes, but because of the things you do, and because of who you are. You have so much strength, to keep going as you have for so long with no faith. I don’t want to take so much that you no longer have any left for yourself.”
“You can have some. I’ll try to spare it,” Dean said, trying to lift his voice for a joke. It didn’t fly, and clearly, Castiel didn’t get it.
Castiel’s hand moved over to Dean’s, took it, and squeezed it. “Maybe if I give you some now, you’ll have some to give to me, when I need it again.”
“Careful, Cas. You’ll get in on this codependent thing Sam and I got goin’ on.”
Castiel seemed to consider that for a moment, pursing his lips slightly and creasing his brow. “I don’t really understand what codependent means.”
“Hm. And I don’t understand jokes about breeding in goats’ mouths.”
“Heh heh.” Castiel covered his mouth in amusement.
Dean looked down and noticed that they were still holding hands. “Thanks for coming back.”
“I shouldn’t be angry with you for the choices I’ve made,” Castiel replied. “And even now, even having seen you in Hell or struggling in the depths of your depression, I would follow you to the ends of the Earth.”
“That is a little... um...”
“Deal with it.”
“Okay.” Dean held his other hand up defensively. “Just don’t beat me up again.”
“You need to see yourself the way I see you.”
“Can’t promise.”
“Hm.”
Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to read Castiel’s expression. He was becoming more human, going native, sort of, the longer he was down here. There was some pain in that, and Dean didn’t want to undermine what Cas was going through. His eyes moved over Castiel’s form, and he realized that Cas hadn’t replaced his tie yet. He found himself staring at Castiel’s exposed neck.
“But I can’t change how I see you,” Castiel continued. “I’ve seen too much of you.”
“Guess you’ve seen more than most. Just know I’m trying right now. It’s not easy to keep getting up. I am trying.”
“I can see that.”
Castiel leaned over, and Dean froze. He felt Castiel’s dry lips pressing against the corner of his mouth. Castiel squeezed his hand again.
“You... didn’t learn that from the Cupids.”
“No, I did not.”
Dean might have been imagining it, but he thought Cas sounded pretty damn pleased with himself.
The door opened, and Sam stepped through. His eyes swept over the room, noticing Dean’s uneaten dinner, the Apocalypse guide (Bible) and papers on the table, and Dean and Castiel on the bed. Holding hands.
He blinked twice, then frowned, looked away, then looked back at them.
Dean and Castiel moved their hands away from one another.
“So... you guys kiss and make up?” Sam asked, rolling his shoulders back.
“Yes, we did.” Castiel nodded and stood.
Sam looked between the two men once again. “Good. Cause we could use you.”
“Sam told me you would be here.” Castiel walked over to the table, tore the burger in half, then handed one half to Dean. “You should eat.”
Dean scowled at Cas and screwed up his lips. Castiel just took a bite of his half of the burger and turned to the table.
“What do we have?” Castiel asked.
Dean looked at the burger in his hand, sniffed it, and took a modest bite before walking over to the table. Castiel raised his hand and pressed it against Dean’s back, on the spot just below his neck and shoulder. Somehow, the weight of it made him feel more grounded.
“We’re looking for the Horsemen’s next move,” Dean explained. “I know a little from what Zach showed me.”
“Yeah,” Sam put in. “So we’re trying to extrapolate from there.”
Castiel nodded. He looked at Dean pointedly to get him to take another bite, then took a chair himself, and the three sat down around the table to make plans to thwart the end of the world.